Losing Sleep

That night, Kangmo woke from his dreams with a sickening lurch. It was getting to be a familiar feeling. In the dark he lay there, waiting for his heart to ease off, waiting for the tension in his chest to uncurl. But it wasn’t happening.

Minutes passed, and stretched. It was a waste of time, lying here awake, too tense to fall back asleep. If he had to be awake, he may as well get some work done.

Kangmo sat up in the bed, and his eyes fell on the shape on the floor beside him.

It was a body.

He had to still be dreaming. Or his brain was making shapes after shadows. But he felt awake, with the air chilling on his back, the world in absolute silence.

As his eyes adjusted, he realised with a start that it was Jo Youngjae.

He had to be dreaming. It was too cruel a trick otherwise. He reached out with his hand, and was relieved to feel Youngjae’s breath on his fingers; he’d thought he was dead.

It was a relief, but it didn’t make things make any more sense. They made less sense even: Kangmo’s world had adjusted to include the possibility of finding people dead; Youngjae asleep on his floor was something different. And almost as unnerving.

Kangmo pulled his legs up to his chest. He wondered if he should wake him up. Somehow, that felt like it would end up getting turned around on Kangmo – he was the one who would get hit, even though Youngjae was the one who’d come into his room and fallen asleep on his floor.

It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that Youngjae was asleep, and Kangmo had to be awake with his stupid nightmares. Youngjae probably didn’t even have nightmares.

He twitched a little in his sleep, though, dreaming something.

Kangmo watched him. Eventually, he lay back down, his body turned to the edge of the bed where he could see if Youngjae moved.

It should have been harder, to get back to sleep with Youngjae there. Somehow it wasn’t.

---

In the morning, there was no-one there, just the morning light.

It must have been a dream. Either that or Kangmo was losing it. No way Youngjae would have been in his room, not if it wasn’t to harass him. It had to have been a dream.

He kept an eye on him during the day, and Youngjae seemed the same as ever. Which was to say obnoxious, although maybe not so much as he had been before everything had happened. As if he was warier now, even of Kangmo.

A stupid dream, that was all. His brain missing how awful Youngjae was.

And what a pathetic thing that was.

---

Kangmo woke again with his heart thundering, and Oh Junghye’s white face imprinted on his retinas. He rubbed his eyes, but he could still see her. He would always see her.

He let out his breath. And turned his head to look for Youngjae.

It hadn’t been a dream. There he was, fast asleep, like someone with no sin, no marks on his conscience. What was he even doing here?

Kangmo stepped over him as he got out of bed. It was typical, somehow; if Youngjae was less of a nuisance during the day, he had to be a bother at night instead.

Kangmo pulled out his processor and put it on. He’d forgotten his nightmare. He paused at his desk, looking at Youngjae’s guileless face. Then he reached for his camera.

It would look terrible, of course – Kangmo couldn’t exactly light the scene – but you could tell it was Youngjae. Kangmo moved toward the window, where the light was better. He wasn’t sure if he was looking for ammunition or proof.

Why had Youngjae come here? Two nights in a row, why had he come here?

The camera caught the moment when Youngjae woke up, too.

‘What do you think you’re doing?’

Kangmo backed up, holding his camera away from Youngjae.

‘What am I doing?’ He kept his voice hushed. ‘It wasn’t enough that you have to follow me around during the day – now you have to do it at night?’

‘I wasn’t doing anything,’ Youngjae said, anger slipping into peevishness. ‘Give me that.’ He sat up, hand out.

‘No way,’ Kangmo said, holding the camera behind himself. ‘You think I’d give something like this up?’

Youngjae leapt up then, discarding his duvet, and he tackled Kangmo against the bed. Kangmo tried to keep the camera out his reach, but it was hard to resist properly when you had something to protect.

‘You’re in my room!’ Kangmo said.

‘So? You think that gives you the right?’ Youngjae wrestled the camera off him.

‘Hey!’

‘Shh,’ Youngjae said. ‘Or you want us to get caught like this?’ He was still on top of Kangmo, and he turned the camera on him now. ‘Cameraman Yang, how the tables have turned.’

Kangmo gave him a dirty look. ‘Just tell me what you want.’

‘I just wanted to get some sleep,’ Youngjae said. ‘Is it my fault that I sleepwalk sometimes?’

‘Seriously?’ Kangmo wanted to sit up, but Youngjae kept him pinned with his knees. He was fiddling with the camera settings – probably messing it up. He didn’t answer Kangmo.

‘Wow,’ Kangmo said, ‘your subconscious must really like me for you to sleepwalk into my room two nights in a row. I must be honoured.’

Youngjae looked up from the camera screen. ‘Do you want me to hit you?’

‘Please,’ Kangmo said. He tipped his head back. ‘At least that would make some sense.’

‘Don’t you have a night mode on this? It looks like shit.’ Youngjae shook the camera.

‘Don’t – geez, are you an idiot? It won’t help.’

Youngjae did hit him then, slapping him across the cheek. Kangmo had had worse.

‘Do you want to get off?’ Kangmo asked. ‘You’re heavy.’

‘Not until you apologise.’

‘For what? You’re the one who came in here …’

‘Sleepwalked.’

‘You’re the one who sleepwalked into my room, and stole my camera, and hit me.’

‘You call that hitting you?’

‘Oh, right. Well, yes, I suppose I should be grateful you didn’t try and bash my brains in with a pipe. Again.’

Youngjae lowered the camera. ‘Are you still hung up on that?’

‘Yeah.’ Kangmo let the words drop. ‘Yeah, I’m still hung up on that.’

Youngjae swung off of Kangmo then, to sit on the edge of the bed. ‘It was a mistake. Obviously.’

‘Oh, obviously.’ Kangmo sat up on his elbows.

‘You were the most suspicious.’

‘Sure,’ Kangmo said. ‘Keep on going, why don’t you? Tell me why I deserved that.’

Youngjae looked down at the camera.

‘You should be the one to hit me,’ he muttered.

‘What?’

Youngjae didn’t repeat himself. He held the camera out to Kangmo, without looking at him. ‘Delete it.’

Kangmo took the camera back, gingerly. Delete it. Delete this conversation. Delete Youngjae’s sleeping face. Delete the recriminations and accusations.

Kangmo flicked through the files on the camera, and spoke without looking up. ‘I don’t care if you sleep here,’ he said. ‘Just don’t be a sneak about it.’

He should care, he knew. He was always going to be pissed off at Youngjae. But at the same time, he knew why Youngjae had done it. It was the same reason it had been a relief for Kangmo to wake up from a nightmare and not be alone.

Kangmo deleted the footage. He showed Youngjae, but Youngjae barely looked.

Kangmo got up and put the camera away. Youngjae stayed on the bed. Kangmo had the strange feeling like maybe he should offer to sleep on the floor. But it was his room, and Youngjae didn’t really look like he expected anything.

Kangmo sat back down. Youngjae didn’t move.

‘I’m taking this off now,’ Kangmo said, gesturing to his processor. Youngjae did look at him then.

‘Wait,’ he said. He flicked his eyes away, then back again. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. He sounded not so much regretful as reluctant, the words drawn out. ‘Happy now?’

‘Close enough,’ Kangmo said. He packed his processor away, and Youngjae slipped down to the floor, sitting curled up against the bed.

Once he was back in bed, Kangmo said goodnight. He wouldn’t know if Youngjae answered.

In the morning, Youngjae was gone. But somehow, Kangmo thought he’d be back.