The Bouquet

Chapter 5

So, he had been watching you just like he promised. You couldn't deny that your heart quickened at the thought of that, your cheeks flushing as you hoped he hadn't seen you do anything embarrassing. You chewed your lip as you contemplated what you would do next, in fact, what should you do? You knew the right thing to do would be to call the authorities and have them deal with Hoseok. You should turn him in and go back to your life as it was before him. But you didn't want to do that, much like a child you wanted to have everything go your way. You kept trying to convince yourself that it was okay to want him and that he wasn't a bad person. If someone kills a horrible human being, does that really make it wrong? How many children had he saved by ending that man's life? Countless, you were sure.

Hoseok wasn't a bad guy, he was just as lonely as you were. So that's why you did what you did. Much like the first night you had encountered Hoseok, you crept downstairs and approached your front door. The temperature dropped the closer you got to the entrance, spurring you to cross your arms over your chest in an attempt to keep yourself warm. Before you could talk yourself out of it, you undid the lock of the door and scampered back up the stairs, wrapping the blanket that rested at the foot of your bed around your shoulders as you shuddered.

Now wrapped up in the warmth of your blanket you tiptoed back to your window, pushing the curtains aside to make sure the sleek black car was still situated across the street. It still was, appearing to not have moved an inch. With that, you withdrew from the window and crossed the room to your light switch. You slid a hand over your eyes, so you wouldn't blind yourself, and then proceeded to flick the lights on and off slowly and five times in a row. That way, hopefully, he would know it's deliberate and make his way inside. Because, as much as you wanted to see him, you really didn't feel like trudging back out into the frigid air and you were sure he would be more comfortable in the warmth of your room than the cramped cab of his undeniably gorgeous car.

After the final flash of light, you returned back to your window, peering outside like a child seeing their first snowfall. You waited with bated breath, hoping that he would realize what you were doing. And, for a few moments, nothing happened and you could feel your heart sinking in disappointment. That was of course until the engine cut and the driver-side door swung open. Your heart quickened in excitement as you watched him emerge from his car, his hair looked like a flame in the blizzard of snow that was coming down. He was impossible to miss.

You watched him cross the dark street and make his way to your front door like he had all those weeks ago when your arm had been wrapped around his own. You were sure your cheeks were flushed from the memory of how warm he had been pressed against your side. As soon as he made it to your front door, he peered up at your window situated to the top left of the door. So, he had been watching you all this time. He even knew which room was yours.

Why didn't that thought bother you in the slightest? Why did it make your heart skip a beat and your body erupt with tingles? You knew the answer, it was because it felt good to be wanted. To be wanted when you were so irrevocably alone felt akin to euphoria. You didn't care much at this point about what he had done, who he was, why he was watching you, you just knew you didn't want to feel so lonely anymore. But, for all you knew, he had been waiting for the opportune moment to kill you and you had just invited him into your home. And if that was what he had come to do, you would gladly welcome the angel of death with open arms.

Hoseok's dark eyes met your own in the veil of the night, a slight gleam shining in them. He was waiting for your permission. You looked back at him and replied with a swift nod, jerking your head in the direction of the door. And, with your permission, he entered your house and escaped the snowstorm raging on in the early hours of the morning.