SENA'S POV
I lean against Heeseung's couch and stroke Raven's soft pur while she nuzzles against my hand, her eyes half-closed in contentment. It's strange to think that just a weeks days ago, I was a complete stranger to this apartment, to Heeseung, to Raven. Now, it feels almost like home, like I belong here. I'm not here permanently, but I like taking pictures of Raven, of Heeseung's toothbrush and mine kissing, of our two matching cups and post them on my social media.
People believe this lie. Everyone thinks we're indeed together, they even think we're a perfect couple, him the famous racer and I, the successful influencer as they envision us. It's ironic, really, how effortlessly we can deceive the world with a few carefully edited photos and well-timed smiles. It reminds me not to trust appearances, to remember that things are not always as they seem.
Heeseung and I have fallen into a routine. I spend almost the whole day at my place, do my work and meet up with Steph and other stylists to decide on my outfits for every event I have on my schedule, and come to his place to spend time together and pretend that we're a couple. When I told Steph I was the one to suggest moving my things in his apartment, she almost screamed and immediately started asking about Ujin. Well, from where should I start? I haven't told her about the cheater yet, and I'm still thinking about how I'm going to tell her. I'm not even trying to convince myself that what I saw the other day was real, maybe if I don't anyone, it wouldn't be so true.
But it is, because when I stalked Hana's social media, I realized that the two had been dating for quite some time now. There are pictures of his hand, his shoulder, his back all over her spam account and it doesn't take me long to understand that Hana wasn't just copying me, she was trying to be me. But that's not possible, and if Ujin was too easy for her to steal then he was my problem, not my man. It's a bitter pill to swallow, of course it is, but I know I deserve better.
After a week of crying myself to sleep and staring at our pictures together, I come to this resolution. Better late than never, I guess.
Though I've been avoiding confronting Ujin about it. The thought of facing him, of hearing his excuses or worse, his apologies, makes my stomach churn with nausea. I don't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much he's hurt me. He's been calling over and over and over, but all I can do is stare at his name until the screen goes black and I can finally breathe again. "I'm a mess, right?" I tell Raven but all she does is snuggle closer, her soft fur a comforting presence against my skin. I bury my face in her fur, letting out a shaky breath. "At least you don't judge me." I usually chat with Raven, we gossip about Heeseung too.
I hear the sound of the door opening, and on cue, I look up to see Heeseung entering the apartment, looking like he just run a marathon. Maybe he did, knowing that all he had been doing while I was at his place was working out. "Oh, hey. I didn't think you were here." He says and I sit up, offering him a small smile.
"Yeah, I've been here for a little while," I reply, trying to sound casual despite the storm of feelings inside of me. I feel like crying and dying and throwing up, but all I do is force a smile and pretend everything's fine. Everything is not fine, but I guess we all just learn to put on a brave face and soldier on. "Raven was hungry so I gave her some food. I also filmed a video and edited a little." I don't know why I feel the need to tell him about my day but I do, and it's good to have something to talk about other than my crumbling love life.
"Really?" He breaks into the softest of smiles and I'm suddenly a melting mess. Red is dripping down my neck and I curse myself for blushing so easily. Heeseung looks so effortlessly handsome, so disarmingly charming, with his dewy skin and the sweat glistening on his forehead. "I'd love to see it sometime. You're so talented, Sena."
I can feel my cheeks heating up even more at his compliment, and I have to look away, focusing on Raven who's now rubbing her head against my leg. I'm not talented, at least that's what I think, anyone can just pick up a camera and take pictures. I'm just a girl who's smiling for pictures and playing dress up, it's not that special. My father's words replay in my mind and I realize that compared with my sibling's career, mine is a joke. "Thanks," I say, avoiding his eyes as he slowly approaches me.
"Are you okay?" He asks and it takes me off guard. Am I? Or am I just pretending to be okay? I plaster a smile on my face and nod.
"Yeah, I'm fine. Just tired, I guess." It's easier to brush off his concern than to admit the truth, easier to pretend that everything is okay when it's far from it. "How are you?" I'm sure he's not convinced because of the way he frowns, but he doesn't push it. Instead, he crouches down and Raven runs to him the way a child would run towards a parent, tail wagging enthusiastically. He strokes her fur, a small smile playing on his lips as he looks at her. "I'm alright." He says but I can see the cuts on his hand, the bruises on his knuckles, the way his smile doesn't quite reach his eyes. He's anything but alright.
"Wait here," I mutter, rising from the couch to go get the first aid kit and returning to Heeseung's side. He looks up at me with a quizzical expression as I sit down beside him, placing the first aid kit between us.
"What's this for?" He asks, still smiling faintly.
"You're not fooling anyone. I can see you're hurting." I open the kit and glance at him while he leans back slightly against the couch, watching me with eyes full of confusion and curiosity. I gently take his injured hand in mine, staring at it for a few solid seconds before looking back at him. "Does this look like the hand of someone who's alright?"
Heeseung's smile falters, and he looks away, unable to meet my gaze. "I guess not." I begin cleaning the cuts on his hand, my movements slow, feeling his gaze on me. It burns holes in my skin, making me acutely aware of his presence, of the warmth radiating between us. There's something oddly intimate about this moment, about the way he trusts me to take care of him, and it sends a shiver down my spine. I'm just a leaf and he's the wind and my emotions are all over the place. I never thought my heart could beat so fast, so wildly in the presence of someone else. But right now, it feels like drums are pounding in my chest. I forget how to breathe when I look up and our eyes meet.
For a second, my gaze drops to his lips and I gulp, my stomach filling with butterflies who seem to have suddenly awakened from a long slumber. I remember the first time he kissed me when we first met and how I couldn't stop thinking about it even if I tried to push the memory away. His lips were soft, his touch possessive, his presence intoxicating. And now, with him so close, I can't help but wonder what it would feel like to kiss him again, to lose myself in his warmth and forget about all the pain and heartache that's been consuming me.
"Sena," I can see the way he tightens his jaw and the way his eyes darken into two pools of desire. My name is a single word but it sounds like a plea, like a prayer, like everything he wants and fears wrapped into one. "It wasn't for the picture." My heart races in my chest, pounding so loudly I'm sure he can hear it. He reaches to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. "I kissed you because I wanted to."
I feel like I'm standing at the edge of a cliff, and no matter which way I turn, I'm bound to fall. I feel his words like a physical touch, like running your fingers across a page of a romance book that leaves you breathless and longing for more. His thumb traces a gentle path along my jawline and without another word, without another thought, I close the distance between us, pressing my lips to his in a kiss that feels like coming home. Like sunset, like the moon shining in the midnight sky, like the first warm breeze of spring after a long winter.
His lips meet mine and in that moment, there's no past, no future, only the exquisite present. His hand is halfway bandaged and he runs it gently across my back, the way you'd trace the lines of a map, the way you'd touch the petals of a delicate flower. I'm nothing but a mere whisper in the vast expanse of his touch, nothing but a ripple in the ocean of his existence. But I'm no longer standing at the edge of a cliff, I've already fallen and he was the one who caught me.