Author's note:
Same universe as ‘Someone wake me up’. Kind of. But not really. And I admit that I messed up with some facts and wasn't able to decide whether to use British or American English. Oh boy.


Predictable things



There are things that you can predict in life. Small things. Mundane things. Things that you hardly keep track of during your day. You can predict that you will wake up next morning, feel reluctant to leave the cocoon of warm sheets. You will brush your teeth; maybe even will have time to munch on a toast or two. You will have your coffee black, but most probably will add two sugars instead of one. Will be late to work and curse traffic all the while waiting for lift to take you to the twenty-seventh floor.


You will spend your eight hour shift thinking of nothing and everything at the same time. You will alternate between doing analytical reports and surfing facebook contacts. Two smoke breaks and one lunch and you can count on your day being almost over. Beating the traffic after six is predictably impossible, and you find yourself stuck at the same traffic lights as yesterday and as many days before.


The world seems to stand still around you. Nothing changes day after day. You think you are stuck. You think you are doomed to see the same faces and the same spreadsheets every single day until you die.


But then you blink and when you open your eyes you can see that the world has shifted.


There’s that much one can predict in life. Only small things. Mundane things. But then one day everything changes. You wake up and there is warm body pressed to yours and you are reluctant to leave the cocoon of warm sheets for all other reasons. You brush your teeth; discard all hopes of a decent breakfast. You have your coffee from a vending machine at office building, instant and disgustingly sweet. You are late to work because someone dragged you back into bed with the powerful persuasion of soft lips and bold hands.


You spend eight hours contemplating making a phone call, picking up and then putting down the receiver hundreds of times without dialing. You smoke through a whole pack and can’t stomach your lunch but the day seems to last forever. Beating traffic is a labour of Sisyphean variety, endless and totally pointless. You are stuck at the same traffic lights as yesterday, but this time it means you have only two more turns before you get home.


This time it’s just different.


The world has shifted.


Because he came into the picture.


It still feels strange to see Jaejoong in your kitchen cooking a dinner. Lasagna (of all things!), he says and smiles. It’s his clothes that lie on your bed in obscenely neat piles. His keys and his cell phone are on your bed night table and you think you have spotted an unfamiliar toothbrush at the bathroom. It’s strange and exciting and simply unpredictable.


Jaejoong’s words are like smiles and his smiles are like kisses. He seems to know everything about you and nothing about the world around you. He brings home a guitar and music sheets, while your brief case is full of business reports and engagement reviews. His jeans and t-shirts play hide and seek between your suits in the wardrobe. He can’t live without his iPod as much as you can’t without your Blackberry. And while you have expected to have disagreements and fights over groceries and TV channels and even dishes washing duties, you have none. And it’s strange and exciting and simply unpredictable how well Jaejoong has fitted in into your life and has become your most predictable thing.


World is full of small things. Mundane things. Things that you hardly keep track of during your day. But when you open your eyes in the morning and see him smiling down at you, you know that the world has shifted. And you have shifted with it.




May 12, 2009