hosu notices the absence before he notices the cold. it's a small thing, small enough that it almost slips past him, the space where something should be. his fingers pause mid-motion, hovering over the low table in the living room, eyes narrowing as if the object might materialise out of stubbornness alone. nothing.
he doesn't need long to decide who to blame.
im youngjoon had always come and gone with the seasons. summers, winters — never long enough to properly move in, always long enough to get too comfortable. he's only staying for a bit, haneul would say, like saying it over and over might make it true. hosu remembers counting days by the way cupboards emptied faster, how the apartment had adjusted itself around the younger man. hosu learned early that objecting only made him the difficult one.
it's stupid, really, the things that set him off. a blanket that isn't where he left it. drawers opened without asking, hosu's things shifted just enough to notice. borrowed and returned out of order, if they were returned at all. felt stupid back then, too, when haneul was still around to smooth it over with a look that asked hosu to let it go. just this once. hosu had always folded. grief has made him less generous.
morning creeps in pale and colourless, light thinning as it spills weakly across the floorboards and dulls. hosu's seated near the fireplace, nursing a cup of black coffee gone lukewarm, when movement draws his eye. it doesn't take much to pick youngjoon out, all long lines and easy sprawl, taking up space without the decency of hesitation.
hosu straightens, turning fully this time. "you wouldn't happen to have seen my lighter, would you?" the question is mild on the surface, but his eyes give him away, sharp. "could've sworn i had it with me last night." he doesn't say last time you stayed with us, or you always do this, or haneul used to cover for you. he knows he doesn't need to.
TOO MUCH OF A GOOD THING with @altairfall