French
Italian
German

The car came through the gate and Doyoung came forward and offered to carry Mark's backpack up to his room. Mark shook his head with a "No thanks" hand motion. "Has Johnny left?"

"Yes, this morning."

"I, too, am saddened." Mark avoided Doyoung's eyes, not wanting to encourage him to say anything more and went inside. Mark met Jungwoo coming down the stairs. "I fixed up your room back to the way it was." Mark frowned before bowing with a fake, soft "thanks". Mark went up to his room, where Johnny had stayed. Alone now, Mark entered it and looked around.

Everything of his was put back, his clothes were in the closet and drawers. He dropped his backpack on the floor then threw himself down on the sunlit bed. The bedspread was the same, he closed his eyes. He was glad to be back in his old room that was now filled with sustaining memories of Johnny.

[~▪-▪~]

Professor Lee sat in his usual place but his chair was turned to face the garden. On his lap were proofs of his latest book, he drank some whiskey as he read through them. Three large citronella candles were next to him to keep the mosquitos away. Mark came into the room to say good night. His father put away his manuscript with a toss and lit his last cigarette of the day using one of the citronella candles.

"So? Welcome home. Did Johnny enjoy the trip?"

"I think he did." Professor Lee took a long drag from his cigarette then paused for a moment before speaking.

"You two had a nice friendship."

"Yes." Mark sounded somewhat evasive. There was another pause from his father and another drag on his cigarette before he spoke again. "You're too smart to know how rare, how special, what you two had was."

"Johnny was Johnny."

"Parce-que c'etait lui, parce-que c'etait moi." (Because it was he; because it was I.)

"Johnny may be intelligent-" Mark was trying to avoid talking about Johnny to his father but the professor wasn't backing down. "Intelligent? He was more than intelligent. What you two had was everything and it had nothing to do with intelligence. He was good and you were both lucky to have found eachother because you too, are good."

"I think he was better than me."

"I'm sure he'd say the same thing about you, which flatters both of you." He tapped his cigarette and leaned towards the ashtray. The professor's tone of voice changed. His tone was clear and it said: We don't have to speak about it but let's not pretend we don't know what I'm saying.

"When you least expect it, nature has cunning ways of finding our weakest spot. Just remember.. I am here. Right now, you may not want to feel anything. Perhaps you never wished to feel anything and perhaps it's not to me that you want to speak to about these things but feel something you obviously did." Mark looked at his father then dropped his eyes to the floor.

"You had a beautiful friendship. Maybe more than a friendship... and I envy you. In my place, most parents would hope the whole thing goes away, to pray that their sons land on their feet but I am not that parent. In your place, if there is pain, nurse it and if there's a flame, don't snuff it out. Don't be brutal with it. Pain takes time to heal but time makes us sentimental. Perhaps, in the end it is because of time that we suffer. We rip out so much of ourselves to be cured of things faster that we go bankrupt by the age of thirty and have less to offer each time we start with someone new... but to make yourself feel nothing so as not to feel anything- what a waste!" Mark was dumbstruck as he tried to take everything his father has just said in.

"Have I spoken out of turn?" Mark shook his head.

"Then let me say one more thing. It will clear the air. I may have come close but I never had what you two had. Something always held me back or stood in the way. How you live your life is your business. Remember, our hearts and our bodies are given to us only once and before you know it, your heart is worn out and for your body, there comes a time when no one looks at it, much less wants to come near it. Right now there's sorrow. Pain. Don't kill it and with it, the joy you felt." The professor took a breath.

"We may never speak about this again but I hope you don't hold it against me that we did. I would be a horrible father if one day, you'd want to speak to me and felt that the door was shut or not sufficiently open." Mark nodded with tears in his eyes.

"Does mom know?"

"I don't think she does." But his father's voice said "Even if she did, her attitude wouldn't be no different from mine".

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(a/n: double update!! i left the one saying in French because it is a direct quote from montaigne and it just makes me 😭. the full quote says "if you press me to say why i loved him, i can say no more than it was because he was he and i was i." it just makes me sit around in pain. next chapter will be the last chapter.)