Bruise (Chanyeol Angst) by peachykaix

BRUISE [ VIII ]

The jacket around your chest felt too loose, cheeks puffy as the cool air nipped at them while you shuffle your feet against the damp pavement. The snow had melted but the low temperature had stayed, the ground covered by thin patches of ice. It was far too late out to be alone in front of the convenience store, but the buzzing of your phone fifteen minutes before hand had been enough to drag you outside at the hour. You'd wanted to see Chanyeol for days, the both of you so busy you still hadn't gotten a chance to see eachother more than a few minutes for an entire week. You'd been trying to focus on the overwhelming amount of coursework professors were dumping on you, while Chanyeol was having a busy time at the studio; at least that's what he said.

Everytime he'd insisted he had to work, all you could picture was Jinah sitting across from him at the restaurant a week before. You could see her fingers on his chin and her palm encasing his when you shut your eyes for too long. You didn't want to push him, but you were beginning to feel like you were walking on eggshells around him, waiting for the inevitable bomb to drop when one of you went too far. You wanted to be patient, to wait for him to bring up seeing her on his own without you prompting the conversation, but you were at the end of your line. It was too taxing to let the anxiety build, and as much as you tried to be understanding, the worry was beginning to morph into agitation.

You'd been waiting for him to bring it up the few moments you'd spent together the past days, and so far he hadn't uttered a single word regarding her. It wasn't helping the growing dread in your stomach, if anything the negligence to even mention it was eating you alive, allowing your mind to think the absolute worst. The necklace that laid heavily against your chest led you to believe you were important enough to be told when he went to dinner with his ex, and yet he hadn't spared the thought a second of consideration. It may have been nothing, but being kept in the dark about it made you think of all possibilities.

Perhaps he'd been lying that evening when he insisted he had work to do and would be distracted if you came over. Perhaps he had planned to see her all along, right under your oblivious nose. Perhaps he had seen her without the intentions of telling you because he didn't want you to worry, or maybe he was hiding the lingering control she had over him. Perhaps he'd known you'd find out, the restaurant not far from your apartment, and secretly hoped you'd catch him and end things so he didn't have to. Perhaps it was all some cruel attempt on his end to hurt you, or perhaps it was none of the nasty thoughts that had brewed behind your eyelids.

You just wanted the truth from him and were tired of waiting for it, you'd been stressed enough with work and classes to also have to deal with a lying almost boyfriend. He was hot and cold so starkly that you were constantly nursing burns he'd left behind. Despite the agitation and anxiety, however, you missed him terribly: you had been longing for him for days. The few minutes you'd had together between courses or work hadn't been enough, like teases laid out to make you yearn for him more strongly.

Maybe that was why the small smile tugged at your lips when his headlights pulled into the parking lot of the glowing twenty- four hour miniscule store. The aggravation over the situation with Jinah receded down to a haze as his expensive SUV shut off, his hooded figure a mere shadow under the bright street lights. His hair was barely visible as he walked closer, the hood of his black sweatshirt pulled up to protect his ears and cheeks from the freezing winds, hands shoving his car keys into his back pocket. Your heart hammered in your chest as you opened your mouth to speak, silenced as his arms slid low around your hips, body crushing into his as his nose dipped to rest against your collarbone, inhaling deeply.

"Finally." His sigh made heat spread through your veins, eyes floating shut as your fingers fisted at the thick fabric shielding his skin from the weather. It was ironic how he could calm the waves inside you when he was one of the things stirring them to begin with. He could provoke you and talk you down so simply, his lips peppering the side of your throat with open mouthed kisses enough to turn the churning waves into a receding calm tied.