Hero

"Thanks for last night. -Hero", he wrote it in a haste as he buckled his belt back on.

One more look. Just one last glance.

He stopped and sighed, crumpled the note and slipped it inside his pocket.  I better not.

Slowly, without a sound, he turns around. Images flashing before his dead eyes. He recalled everything.

The television, his smile, his eyes, the mole above his lips, the trivial things he say which captivates his attention, the way he waved at the camera before they switched to cornflakes advertisement, his silhouette from afar, his graceful walk, the animated gestures he make, the hot cup of coffee that fell on Jaejoong's feet while looking at him as he walked past, their chance meeting, and another one, and another one, the way he failed to remember Jaejoong's name on both accounts, the pounding music at the bar, the burn of the alcohol as it cruised down his throat, the smell of cigarette as he said his name on yet again another first meeting, the sturdy grip of his hand as they said hello, the stupor created by the social lubricant, the way their eyes met and sent signals that it was time to go home, his warm touches sliding into places that sent shivers down his bones, the gentle lips caressing his face, the rapid sway between languor and mad poundings that left them both in heated sweat, the way his arms felt strong and safe around him, the way he knew that tomorrow morning he would again be a face with no name.

He headed to the door with a sigh. Put his shirt on and bid farewell to the picture of Jung Yunho and his wife smiling from the frame hanging on the wall.Goodbye.