Lost and Found | Changmin & Himchan
Himchan was laying on his bed, mindlessly staring at the ceiling of his assigned cottage that he shared with two other guys. The days on the island seemed to pass extremely slow, and every minute felt like an entire hour. There wasnât much to do for him. He didnât have friends here he could see, nor did he have the energy and concentration to practice his ability 24/7. The only option left was trying to get as much sleep as possible before the daily stress would return. But there still was this something for the young man which would keep him from falling asleep: Voices. Just like now, just like every time.
Clutching his head with a hand, he let out a low and annoyed groan. He had hoped they would eventually disappear sometime, but they just didnât. He gave up.
Slowly, he sat up, his tired eyes now focused on the wall in front of him. Just then he realized that there actually was something to do. Before wasting the day away with doing nothing, learning a few new Korean terms wouldnât be wrong, he thought and nodded to himself as he already reached for his bag which was carelessly thrown to the floor next to his bed. He shifted in his seat to sit cross-legged and reached inside, surprised that what he pulled out wasnât his study book but more like⊠A book completely written in Korean.
He narrowed his eyes at the title, staring at the weird font for a moment as he tried to figure out what it said. He already knew who this book might belong to though, just what he didnât know was: How in the world did it get here? And what should he do with it? He could just keep it until they moved again, but then again⊠Why should he carry around extra weight when he could just return it immediately? Again, he realized how less there was to do in the first place and got up from his bed, stretching out a bit before slipping inside his shoes.
Changmin -they usually shared a tent when the circus was moving around- was the one reading a lot. It was either his or⊠well, someone elseâs obviously. They didnât talk often, so Himchan wouldnât know.
He opened the door and stepped outside. First things first, find out in which cottage this guy was staying at. It didnât take much of asking around until he got his answer - and he eventually was standing in front of the door of the other male and knocked exactly three times. But now that he stood there and waited for someone to open, Himchan wasnât sure anymore whether he should return it personally or just leave it at the doorstep. While he had been complaining that there was nothing to do, he didnât really want to talk right now either. And, as previously stated, they never really talked in the first placeâŠ
Home sweet home, Changmin thought earlier when he kicked all of the half-unpacked junk off his bed, dumped his travel bag on floor and flopped face-first onto the bed. The typical mustiness that was just a bit too strong to be considered subtle billowed around him. He let out a contented sigh. It was so wonderful to be back where it was relatively peaceful and he would not be called upon every five minutes to please help so-and-so with this or repair that.
It wasn't that Changmin minded being constantly on the go doing odds and ends, or the fact that extra hands were always needed somewhere. The feeling of being needed was fulfilling and his level of personal productivity during their touring times was at an all time high. Although there was still plenty of work to be done around here, Changmin at least didn't have to feel guilty about sneaking off to get some peace and quiet. After being home for a little bit, Changmin sprung into action, working his way down a mile-long list of chores that kept him busy all morning. It was well into the day by the time he managed to evict all of the resident spiders that had been stupid enough to show themselves to magazine-wielding tenant.
Changmin curled up on the bed, hugging a pillow to his chest and let his mind drift, intent on taking a nice cat-nap as his body adjusted to its new daytime schedule. He longed for his book which he had somehow managed to misplace. He remembered unpacking and realizing with aching disappointment that he must have left it back in Gwangju therefore the likelihood of him ever seeing it again was next to none.
A series of knocks on the door drew Changmin out of his doze. He considered just ignoring it, but his other current roommate wasn't present which left him by default In Charge. He groaned and forced himself out of bed. Answering the Door was unfortunately up there as one of the main duties of the one In Charge. Even more unfortunately was that whoever was at the door probably was not even looking for Changmin.
He was not entirely sure who he expected to see on the other side of the door, but he could honestly say it wasn't Himchan. A man of very few words. In all of the time that they shared a tent, Changmin could not recall a having a full length conversation with the other. Not that he was much of a chatterbox himself, so the combination of the both of them could probably be blamed for theirs lack of mutual social interactions.
As the seconds ticked on, Changmin became painfully aware of his less than stately attire: he was dressed in the most comfortable (unattractive) pants he owned and his shirt was probably due for a wash and his uncombed hair was fluffed out like a lion's mane.
Well this is awkward, Changmin thought and then realized a moment to late that he'd said that out loud. He spoke loudly, hoping to somehow cover the words he had just blurted. If he was lucky the other man wouldn't have heard them at all.
âHimchan, what brings you here?â
