twenty-three suns | kang taehyun

TWO DAYS LEFT

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You weren't sure what the night sky looked like tonight. Usually you liked to keep your curtains wide open, letting the moonlight stream in across your bed in pale stripes. But tonight they were shut tightly; you'd taken the extra care to arrange them so that not a peep of light could make their way into your room. As you awkwardly turned over in bed, trying to ignore the way your bed frame squeaked as you pushed it a certain way, you closed your eyes and imagined what it might look like.

In your mind, it was completely clear, just like the night of the party, when you and Taehyun had laid on the roof of the house, kissing under the stars. But it wasn't chilly at all, no, it was warm, just like the night that he had driven you home.

You were so engrossed in your fantasy that you didn't hear the knocks on your window until it slowly began sliding open, and you sat up in bed, wide-eyed and cotton-mouthed. Quickly, you reached for the closest thing that could be used as a weapon, which just so happened to be a novel on your nightstand that had been recommended to you by Taehyun. As quietly as possible, you swung your legs over the edge of your bed, the wood of your floor horribly cold on your bare feet. You could feel the chill traveling up through your soles and wrapping around your ankles, sending a chill up your back. Goosebumps arose on all of your exposed flesh, and you slowly walked towards the window, eyes trained on the small movement behind your curtains. The hardcover book felt slippery in your clammy palms, but you gripped it as tight as possible, making sure that it wouldn't budge. Gritting your teeth, you raised the book above your head, ready to bring it down upon the figure behind the curtain, but then they whipped it open, and you were so stunned that you hesitated, arms jerking and tensing up as you immediately stopped the harsh movement. "Taehyun!?" you whisper-yelled, arms shaking, "what the fuck?"

The silver-haired man nearly face-planted onto your floor as he wobbled, off-balance on your narrow windowsill. "You weren't responding to my texts," he hissed, finally managing to plant his feet firmly onto your floor, "I got worried!"

"Worried about what, exactly?" you asked sourly, finally loading the thick book, "no more sex?"

Taehyun huffed indignantly, turning around to close your window and pull the curtains shut again. "No," he drawled, "about you."

Your eye twitched from the unexpected softness, and you shifted, slightly uncomfortable and unsure how to respond. "Oh," you said finally, lamely.

"Can I?" he asks, motioning towards the bed, and you nod. He sits down on your bed, just a little awkwardly, and reaches over to your lamp, switching it on, bathing your room in a pale light. "Are you gonna come sit too?" he asks, patting the spot next to him.

You still feel weird seeing him in your bedroom. It's a mixture of your childhood, and he looks almost cut and pasted out of a different image. But you comply and sit down on your bed, though it's not right next to him. His gaze drifts down to the book in your lap, and he smiles, though it's only with his mouth and not his eyes. "You actually read it?"

"I haven't yet. I'm going to though," you said, hugging it to your chest.

"Will you tell me what you think once you do read it?"

"In a letter I'll never mail, maybe." He catches onto your salty tone and pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue, obviously knowing the source of your bitterness.

"Oh," he said.

"I'm almost ready to go," you mumbled, changing the subject, and Taehyun finally takes a look around your room. His expression is almost unreadable, though you think you catch a flash of hurt.

"I can see that." He swallows hard, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down. "Are you... ready?"

"I'm well prepared, if that's what you're asking." You don't recognize your cold tone. It's so unlike you.