It's already a week since Jaemin first showed up in his apartment. Renjun was still getting used to it. Some mornings he goes straight to the shower and when he comes out, Jaemin is on the couch. It's happened more times than he would care to admit and on the days that he didn't forget, he got dressed in the bathroom. There were times he ended up dropping a cup because Jaemin was right behind him when he turned around. He's had to buy a new set of mugs to replace them and he's left a post-it to remind himself not to use any of his favourite mugs in the event he drops those too.

Today, after stepping into the apartment having gotten back from class, Jaemin appeared before him, a wide grin breaking away at his face. He insisted he help Renjun with cooking dinner tonight, because really it's all he can do considering he can't cook (and apparently it's killing him. Which is how he figured out Jaemin used to cook a lot and guesses he was a great cook. Jaemin insists that if he follows his instructions precisely, he may be able to convey how good he really was.)

Despite knowing this information, he wants to know more. He's following Jaemin's instructions to mix lightly when he says, "So you cooked a lot at home."

Nothing else needs to be said for Jaemin to understand. His response comes after a momentary silence. "Yeah," he murmurs. "Mom was always busy or she was visiting dad in the hospital." His tone is soft in a way that Renjun can hear every ounce of emotion laced through. Renjun doesn't want to pry or ask any further questions about his dad, despite that being the only thing that rings through his head. When Jaemin looks up, his lips quirk at the corners. "You can ask."

"Your dad's in the hospital?"

He offers a brief nod of his head. "Was in an accident two years ago. He's been bed ridden ever since."

Renjun listens. It's all he can do because he doesn't know what to say. He doesn't want to give Jaemin false reassurances. The look in his eye when their gazes meet tells him that he knows. That he too doesn't want those false reassurances that he seems to know is on the tip of Renjun's tongue. All he can offer is an ear, but Jaemin has other ideas.

"What about you?"

Renjun startles. Glancing at Jaemin, who seems to be watching him tentatively, he tries for a smile and a nonchalant shrug. Turning back to the food he's preparing, he responds slowly, "My parents?"

"Yeah," he responds. His eyes haven't left Renjun, he can feel it.

"I should probably try and get a hold of them," he mumbles unintentionally. Lifting his head, he holds back a sigh. "They moved back to China after I graduated. Haven't really kept in touch as much as they promised or as much as we try. No resentment or anything, just the way it ended up, you know?" He hears Jaemin's hum which he takes as an 'okay' to continue speaking. He's almost done with the food, according to Jaemin and he's still diligently following the odd instruction or two between their conversation.

"I think our family just sucks at keeping in touch," Renjun says again. Jaemin opens his mouth as if to say something but the look Renjun shoots him has his lips smacking back together as he continues standing there. "My brother finished up years before me and I only ever heard from him a handful of times before I graduated. He went on with his life and mom, dad and myself went on with ours. I thought maybe I'd be different, but I guess not."

"Will you try and call them?"

"One day. Maybe soon." Renjun sucks in a breath as he stirs the food. "So with your mom gone, did it ever get lonely?"

He catches the small, knowing smile that curls across Jaemin's face. "My friends would come over and we'd spend the evening together." He sighs almost dreamily, leaning back against the counter with his head tilted up as he looks to the ceiling. "I wish I could have cooked for you," he comments softly, no real thought behind his words. Words that catch at Renjun's heart and tugs at it violently. It's like it's being squeezed so hard that he can feel the tingling of the sensation in his chest.

Because he wants that. He wishes he could have that; Jaemin cooking for him. Jaemin doing things for him and vice versa. Being able to actually be with his soulmate without the division of their worlds. To feel every touch, to be able to hold him and to hug him, even if it was just for a moment. It's all he wanted. Maybe it's the emotion dripping through Jaemin's voice that sends him into this sudden spiral of need. He's managed to avoid it all week, pulling himself away from the edge before he could plummet. Hearing Jaemin wish something so trivial yet so meaningful puts all those efforts of avoidance to a halt.

"I can imagine," Renjun responds, doing all he can to keep the tremor out of his voice.

There's a waft of air behind him and it takes him a moment to realize the reason behind it. Jaemin had made an act of slapping him on the back gently, but rather than him actually being able to feel it, it appears the action generates the breeze. Like something warm around him.

"But this is the next best thing!" Jaemin exclaims giddily, unfazed by the action. Renjun reminds himself that of course he would be unfazed considering he wasn't the one on the receiving end. "C'mon, finish up so you can eat!"

With a roll of his eyes, he follows through with the little excited demand. "Impatient much?" he teases softly.

"Excited actually."

When the food is done, Jaemin walks over to the table and takes a seat while Renjun dishes up for himself. His hand curls around a second plate, but he catches himself in time and pulls away, grabbing a fork instead. It was a simple dish; kimchi fried rice. Jaemin insisted they start somewhere, with something small and the more they cooked, the less simpler the dish would be. Renjun ended up agreeing.

"This is great!" he exclaims after a single bite. It's really good. He could only imagine how amazing it would be if Jaemin had been the one to make it. The thought brings back the heavy feeling in his chest.

"Of course it is," Jaemin responds, a proud look on his face. "I helped you make it."

"Yeah," he says softly. Nothing more than a murmur. There's this tinge of guilt in the pit of his stomach as he eats. It's sitting and it's weighing itself the more bites he takes because he can feel Jaemin looking at him. Just sitting there, watching him and not being able to eat. It sits with him. As much as Renjun knows it's not his fault Jaemin isn't alive, he still feels guilty.

"Jaemin, can I ask you something?"

The question has sat with him from the moment he found out, but he never had the courage to actually ask. Now, however, he wanted to know the answer to it more than anything else.

"Of course." His brows pinch together, curiosity gleaming in those dark orbs that felt as if they were looking right through him.

"How..." He trails off, releasing a shaky sigh before trying again. "How did you die?"

It's shit. The silence that follows after that. The question is heavy in the air and Renjun feels like he's suffocating; the question itself was sucking all the oxygen out of the room. His eyes keep darting to Jaemin and then darting away when he notes that Jaemin still hasn't looked away. He's staring with this expression that is so emotionless it almost hurts.

"I— I need to go," Jaemin murmurs.

Renjun wants to stop him but in the blink of an eye, he's already gone. Once again, Renjun is left alone in his tiny apartment with his cat and the excruciating silence.