how romantic

Part 9

Roksu woke with a dull throb in his head. He felt hungover. Worse. He felt like he was still half drunk, nauseous, and hung over.

An unpleasant sensation to endure when he hadn't even gone drinking.

At least I'm home.

Waking up with Naru's ceiling overhead would be too much right now...

Roksu expression wrinkled.

His last memory in the other world didn't end like normal. He would go to bed as Naru and wake up as Roksu and vice versa. The time he was in Naru's world was always the same, to the point that the both of them planned for the visits meticulously.

One moment he'd been on a 'date' with Han Barrow and the next he was... here.

Was that why his head hurt so much?

Roksu sat up with a groan and clutched his head, the jackhammer inside of his brain taking umbrage with his choice to move at all.

Well, this sucks.

Roksu collapsed back onto his mattress. No point in struggling against his illness when it was a rare opportunity to get really sleep, without jumping into another dimension. He was just about ready to doze off when the sound of his doorbell rang through the apartment.

Roksuu glared absently at the clock beside his bed.

Four thirty-seven in the morning.

I see. I see the truth now. This is hell. I'm in hell. I'm being punished for writing mediocre novels of self indulgence. Aigoo... my poor life.

Presuming that anyone at his door at four in the fucking morning couldn't be here for anything less than an emergency, Roksu dragged his body roughly out of bed and stumbled his way to the front door with a general feeling of fuck my life weighing on each step.

The doorknob was cool against his palm. It was a silly thing to focus on but he couldn't help but focus on the pleasant cool sensation as he thoughtlessly opened the door without even checking through the peephole.

...did I say hell? I meant super hell. Some sort of extra ultra hell.

Choi Han was breathless, sweating, and leaning against the door jam with a hunted expression on his otherwise handsome face.

There really couldn't be a single good reason for Choi Han to have rushed to his door like this in the middle of the night. That was the sort of urgency reserved for someone died or your house is on fire and the question of why Choi Han chose to come all the way across town in the middle of the night to Roksu's apartment–

A gentle hand touched his face, gingerly caressing Roksu's cheek with the barest of trembles.

"You're okay."

Choi Han slumped a bit, so relieved that the emotion was palpable but before Roksu could really grasp what the hell that emotion was coming from, he was swept up in a crushing hug full of all sorts of emotions that Choi Han was apparently brimming with.

Roksu swallowed thickly.

Just what the hell was going on?

"...Choi Han...?"

"You're okay." He repeated, his face buried in the nook of Roksu's neck and his breath tickling his skin. Roksu swallowed roughly, trying to grasp the situation.

Am I dreaming?

That made sense. After so long of popping into another world when his body would normally dream, it made a lot of sense to have a really weird dream to fill in the gaps.