Chapter 22: Chocolate.
"And sometimes I have kept my feelings to myself because I could find no language to describe them in."
Jane Austen—
My alarm is ringing, bothersome and so very irritating. I'm surrounded by coziness, and tranquility is the only emotion I currently know. There is this peace within me that the blaring noise my phone makes is trying to take away, but I'll hold on to it as long as I possibly can.
I'm hugging something, I realize. Something warm. It smells like chocolate with hints of my own mint scent, one that I'm aware I have and take with me all the time. But this sweet odor seems familiar and it's not mine, I just can't figure out what it belongs to. Nevertheless, I love the pleasant feeling it gives, the way it enters my nostrils to spread warmth all over my being.
I nuzzle my head closer, brain still foggy with a thin layer of sleep. That clouds any reasoning that might give me a hint to where I may be and why is it that I feel so calm and at home.
It's okay, for now, I don't pay any mind to my whereabouts.
I hug whatever is next to me tighter, pull it closer to me. The sound of the alarm is still present somewhere in the back of my mind, but maybe I'm just dreaming about it, maybe it really isn't blaring like I think.
Something moves next to me. The warmth is trying to get away. I don't let it. It groans.
Wait, groans?
"Min, lemme turn that phone off."
Oh.
I practically tear my eyes open and push myself out of Jisung's space.
Without enough time to actually think about the bed and its inevitable ending, I crawl as far away as my numb legs can take me. I end up on the floor, having hit my head on the nightstand first thing in the morning. I rub where the pain erupts from to somehow soothe it, but it isn't working very well.
When I look up, Jisung's eyes are on me, filled with worry. There isn't much light coming inside the room, the sun still isn't up to cast its light on the surface of our world and I'm pondering if that's a good thing or not, given that thanks to it Jisung probably isn't able to perceive the red color that paints my face in the characteristic shades of embarrassment. At the same time, it makes it impossible for me to know if the glint in his eyes is there to mock me or care about my wellbeing.
Jisung extends his arm for me to grab onto, as an invite to my own bed. I'm humiliated enough, so I don't take it, standing up on my own and dusting whatever dirt might have stayed on my pants with my hands, straightening the fabric. My head hangs low. I can't look Jisung in the eye without collapsing.
The alarm isn't blaring anymore. I don't know what to mutter, what snarky comment I should make, how I'm supposed to break this deafening silence that makes me want to cry.
Jisung is the one breaking the silence and I'm as grateful as one can be. "Why do you have an alarm at five in the morning?" he inquires with a smile as he plops back onto the mattress with a tired sigh. "The sun isn't even up yet."
His eyes are closed so I feel stupid when I shrug as if he could see me. "I just have a lot of things to do." I say, not seeing any point in lying.
He lifts his eyelids and his gaze falls on me. A lazy smile paints the curves of his lips and he carefully pats the spot next to him with his hand, a silent plead for me to lay back down there like how I was. But I don't think I should, not when I can't even remember how I ended up so comfortably sleeping in his warm embrace.
"C'mon." he speaks, his voice already carrying a coat of drowsiness I can't ignore. "Let's catch a bit more sleep before the girls wake up."
I shake my head. The alarm was set for something, I have a pile of homework I need to take care of and no other time of the day to do it. He sits up and stares at me for a second, then harshly tugs at my wrist, bringing my body down next to his on the bed.
His arms are around me in a second, strong and making it impossible for me to escape the embrace he's forced me into, but I'm not complaining. I can't, not when his fingers play with my hair softly, not when his breathing is so calm and comfortable, not when his warmth feels more like home than any other place I've ever been.
Hesitantly, I wrap my arms around Jisung's torso as well and he hums. His voice is deeper than usual and I find funny how he sounds like a hibernating bear.
A smile tugs at the corner of my lips when a memory let's itself be known, seen within my chaotic mind.
When Jisung was younger, he would sleep just like this too. He loved hugging me, I remember, and told me so at every chance he got. The bubbly boy that would tiptoe down the stairs of our bunkbed just to hold me tight as he slept is still there, burried beneath a deeper voice and a taller figure that give him a more mature appearance, one that doesn't quite resonate with the image my mind clings to of that child he once was, that child I once loved with my whole heart.
Then, as clear as a day, I see why I can't stand him some times while others I just want him between my arms. The reason I've been looking for all along has been right under my nose but I was too blind to see it.
My mind had this idea that I'd see him grow, that we would become old together. I lived in this illusion that Jisung would always be by my side, I deluded myself in it because it was what my heart wanted desperately.
It wanted someone that would stay next to me.
I can't accept the fact that it didn't go like I wanted to, like I wished it had gone.
Jisung has grown and it hasn't been by my side.
This mature appearance is a constant reminder. With every new thing I find about him there's this voice in the back of my head screaming how I didn't see it get there. It enrages me, the knowledge of his change.
He apologized for leaving me without any explanation and I thought I had accepted because, all this time, I thought I got over the damage it caused me; but the reality of the situation is way more complicated because the physical proof of my absence in his life, his absence in mine too, is too overwhelming sometimes.
Jisung is just not a kid anymore.
"Don't think about bad stuff."
His voice breaks the silence and the path my thoughts had taken. "I'm not." I reply. My head moves so I'm able to look at him. His round cheeks and that mole on his left one are still there, at least. Not everything has changed.
He pulls me closer to his chest and the scent of chocolate engulfs my nostrils, sending calm waves of comfort right to the stressed parts of my brain. His smell, familiar and warm, softens my tensed muscles and relaxes my overworked body. "Then why are you frowning?"
"I'm not." am I?
Jisung chuckles lightly at my response, then the room falls quiet again. I can listen to his heartbeat right next to my ear, a soothing melody that lulls me back to sleep once more, but I don't want to succumb. Instead, I'm curious as to what Jisung's life was while growing up. I want to know how he spent his years, if he thought of me.
With a hesitant hand, I tap his arm carefully. "Are you still awake?" I whisper.
There's no answer. Jisung is asleep again, I think. The slow rises of his chest tells that much.
I don't expect him to answer me, so when he hums after a while I'm not sure if I should satisfy my curiosity or just let it be.
Finally, I decide on the latter. I'll ask him some other time, it's okay.