CHAPTER 21

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It was as if God wanted to play some sort of twisted, sick joke on me. I wanted to regurgitate the warm coffee I'd sipped on with Jihoon just an hour before, wanted to rip my hair from my scalp, wanted to scream. To cry.

I had no chance to further react to the horrifying revelation presented through neatly-printed ink on the slip of paper before me, however, for the sound of the door at the front of Wonwoo's apartment echoed between us. Heavy, steady footsteps followed the noise of the door closing and moments later, the Devil himself appeared across the room from his bewildered brother and myself.

A smile spread across his mouth as his eyes locked on me, and I felt my chest clench painfully as he reached for the expensive, deep red patterned scarf draped loosely around his neck. He pulled the material away swiftly, the motion making a soft swishing noise as he dropped it onto the back of the leather sofa adjacent to him. He then proceeded to unbutton his jacket, sliding it off his arms with ease and dropping it to join the scarf. I closed my eyes tightly, turning away from him as the scent of his pricey cologne wafted into my senses. Even as the rage continued to boil away within my veins, disbelief flooded through my mind as a realization hit me. I was still reacting to the scent of him, the sight of him, the general presence of him being so close to me. My heart still hammered erratically and the ability to breathe comfortably diminished. I hated him - but I was still in love.
"I did the impossible," Wonwoo spoke as Seungcheol approached the kitchen. He grinned proudly, nodding at the plate sitting dangerously close to the car receipt I'd discovered just moments prior.

Seungcheol's eyebrows furrowed as he narrowed his syrupy gaze at the arrangement of muffins scattered across the ceramic plate. "What are - "

"Muffins!" Wonwoo grinned, clapping his hands together lightly. "I made them! No help at all!"

"No you didn't," Seungcheol murmured, his head shaking slowly as he continued eyeing the muffins with undeniable suspicion. "There's no way, you can't even make a bowl of cereal without messing it up."

"Shut up, don't be an ass," Wonwoo snapped, pushing the plate roughly towards his brother. "I did make them, ask Jeonghan."

My eyes closed again as I attempted to maintain a composed breathing pattern. My fingers were sprawled flat across the car receipt paper, anger bubbling within me as I tried to ignore the fact that the two of them were acting so casual around me. Both knew they were fooling me - lying to me, and Wonwoo especially recognized that I'd been bothered by the revelation of their identities. He knew something was up by the way I'd reacted to finding the paper yet here he was, joking light-heartedly about some fucking muffins he'd probably baked out of a quick-mix boxed good.
And then there was Seungcheol.

Oh, how there was Seungcheol.

He'd not only kept it a secret that he was an international rockstar, but he'd blatantly lied to my face for the past month about the supposed damages I'd inflicted upon his precious little car.

Seventy-five dollars.

Breathe, Jeonghan, I told myself. Breathe.

Seungcheol stepped near me, a smile playing at the corner of his full lips - I had to tear my eyes away from his mouth and remind myself that he'd spewed a horrifyingly grand lie from that same beautiful pair of lips.

"Well?" he murmured teasingly, leaning towards me. "Is it true? Did my brother succeed in the imposs - "

It was the feeling of his fingers gently reaching for my forearm, their calloused tips brushing so affectionately against my warm skin there. The fine hair on my arms immediately stood up and I practically ripped my body away from him, sliding off my seat and standing a good distance from him.

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