I'd expected Wonwoo to bombard me with questions as to what his idiotic brother had done that had caused me to come crumbling in tears at his feet after my eyes had dried. I'd anticipated an onslaught of demands as to what Seungcheol had said, what Seungcheol had done, what had transpired. But they never came and he didn't ask. After I mumbled a humiliating apology, wiping at my damp face with the back of my hand and avoiding looking at his moist t-shirt where my face had been pressed moments prior, he simply smiled, stood to his feet, and offered me a hand.
"Come on," he pulled me up with him, rubbing my shoulder in a gentle, affectionate manner. "Let's get some breakfast."
Even when we'd arrived at a small café near their loft and sat down at a table in a fairly isolated corner , he never once mentioned his brother or the incident that had occurred hours ago. He hummed to himself lightly, flipping his menu over to scan his options behind an oversized pair of sunglasses. He wore a zip-up hoodie over his tee, and the hood of the sweatshirt was pulled up, concealing his eccentric dark hair and part of his face.
"Embarrassed to be seen with me?" I teased wryly, glancing at his camouflaged attire.
He shook his head, still humming as he scanned through the breakfast items. "The sunlight bothers me," he smiled sheepishly. "I can't burn this perfect complexion of mine, you know."
I cast a confused glance out the window at the streets around us. "But it's cloudy outsi- "
"I think I'll have the banana pancakes," he interrupted with an affirmative nod, setting his menu down, ignoring my observation. He leaned forward on two bony elbows, cradling his chin in his hands. "What're you going to get?"
My eyebrows furrowed as I studied his face for a long moment, confused as to why he'd so abruptly dropped the topic of his efforts to conceal part of his countenance, but eventually let my eyes fall back down to my own menu.
"I don't know," I shrugged. "I'm not very hungry."
"You should eat something," he suggested gently, extending a long finger to point at an item on my menu. "The pecan waffles are pretty good."
"I'm allergic to nuts."
He frowned slightly. "Are you? Huh." He chewed his lower lip, his head bowed down to glance at his menu again. "Well ... what are you in the mood for? Something sweet, something fruity?"
I glanced down at my menu. "The chocolate chip pancakes look good."
Wonwoo grimaced.
I sighed heavily, "Don't tell me you hate chocolate too."
"I detest it," he scowled, his nose wrinkling. "It's too sweet. Hurts my teeth."
I cocked an eyebrow playfully, leaning forward on my own two elbows. "And Skittles don't?"
He grinned then, exposing his brilliant smile, and opened his mouth to retaliate. The waitress interrupted him, however, and approached our table to take our orders. I wasn't surprised when she ogled Wonwoo - he was beautiful, the epitome of near-perfection with his flawless skin and angular, symmetrical features. But the apprehensive look she gave me was bothersome, and the quick little glances she kept shooting at the seemingly oblivious Wonwoo made me feel uneasy. Nevertheless, she took our orders and was off, glancing over her shoulder one last time at Wonwoo's lanky, slender form sitting before me.
Wonwoo hummed to himself and reached for a roll in the basket between us, peeling back a pad of butter and retrieving his knife to smear the substance along the fleshy inside of the bread. I watched him quietly, and in that moment, as a brief dim ray of the sun cast in our window and illuminated his form, he appeared almost angelic. It was in that instant that I realized that Wonwoo was a security blanket to me - someone I could confide in and a trustworthy friend, and the decision to tell him was difficult.
Nevertheless, I decided to speak up, clearing my throat gently and swallowing hard.
"I love him."
He was quiet for a moment, which surprised me. I'd half expected his head to shoot up in my direction, his sunglasses to slide down the elegant slope of his nose, and his jaw to drop agape. What was even more unsettling was the fact that he continued to butter his roll as if what I'd said had absolutely no affect on him whatsoever. After a few long, unnerving moments, a subtle smile formed at the corner of his full mouth.
"I know."
My eyes widened and it was my mouth that slackened after he'd uttered the words. I blinked rapidly in an attempt to comprehend what he'd just said, and he bit noisily into his roll, chewing as he looked up at me.
"You say that as if it's a surprise," he continued. "I've known this, Jeonghan."
I swallowed hard, my cheeks flushing hotly in embarrassment, and let my gaze fall down to the smooth surface of the table. "Was it that obvious?"
He bit into his roll again, leaning back lazily in his chair. "I've seen the way you look at one another."
I was quiet for a moment as his words sunk in, but the rapid increase in my heart rate quickly shook me to my senses and I felt my mouth dry up substantially. "Wha - what?"
He sighed heavily then, popping the last bite of the bread into his mouth. "There are so many things I want to tell you," he spoke up in a quiet, gentle voice. "But it's not my place to say them."
I swallowed hard again, "What - what do you mean?"
"I think you and my brother need to have a long talk," he said after a moment. "I can't - it's just... it's not my place."
I felt that familiar heaviness in my chest and swallowed against the slowly forming lump along the insides of my throat. I shook my head, my words coming out a quiet near-whisper. "I don't want to talk to him."
Wonwoo didn't ask why. He didn't throw questions at me about what Seungcheol had done. He simply sat across from me patiently, his eyes more than likely their usual warm, gentleness behind the large lenses of his shades.
"I came home last night," I spoke up quietly, avoiding his gaze. "And found Seungcheol standing half-naked in my living room." I inhaled shakily, the overwhelmingly awful emotions that had consumed me hours ago reemerging. "He had sex with my roommate."
"He what?"
"I don't understand it," I continued, my voice shaking and my eyes feeling that familiar burning sensation along the sensitive inner linings. "He'd been over hours before I'd gone out ... a-and he - he ...I just - I don't understand. And let's not forget he told me he was straight alright." I trailed off, finding the words difficult to escape my mouth. I didn't know if I should tell Wonwoo that his brother had practically smashed me against the wall and kissed me, so I opted to keep that to myself.
"You went out last night," Wonwoo repeated quietly. "Where?"
I sniffed and shrugged, the image of Mingyu's face coming to my mind. The memory brought some temporary relief to the devastation flooding me. "That guy I had a drink with at Karma last week took me out."
Wonwoo stared at me for a long moment, his mouth slowly parting and then closing. The waitress intersected our conversation, her presence emerging as she set down our two steaming plates of breakfast foods. She had stared longingly at Wonwoo, whose gaze was still locked intently on my figure, and then asked if he needed anything more. He shook his head slowly, waving her off with a casual hand. She hesitantly retreated, her gaze flitting over her shoulder at Wonwoo's motionless form.
I stared at the stack of my chocolate chip pancakes with uneasiness. Wonwoo hadn't said anything since I told him of my date with Mingyu, and his gaze was searing into the depths of my body. Finally, I saw him move out of the corner of my eye. His hands reached for his fork and knife, bringing them to rest against his plate, and he poured a generous stream of syrup over the tops of his pancakes.
"When Seungcheol and I were in grade school," he spoke up finally, his voice eerily calm. "We must have been nine or ten or so - he was interested in a boy. Even at a young age he knew he wasn't like the rest."
I looked up with interest and watched him cut slowly into his pancakes. He brought a bite to his mouth, chewing slowly. "He was in love with him, or so he said." He chewed thoughtfully, pausing every so often to take a drink from his coffee mug. "I don't know what he saw in him. He wore these God-awful clothes and tacky shoes. Anyways, he was interested in him. He was interested in him too, and they flirted, I guess."
"Oh," I laughed under my breath slightly. "Playground flirting?"
"Yeah," he nodded through a mouthful of pancakes. "Yeah, exactly. They'd kick one another under the desks in the classroom. They'd pinch each other in the arm and push one another off swings, those sorts of things."
The thought of a ten-year old gay Seungcheol chasing after a small boy on an elementary school playground was brought to my mind, and despite my present feelings of resentment towards him, I couldn't help but allow a small smile to develop on my face.
"One day, he came to school and saw that the boy he liked was with a girl were pinching one another and kicking at one another under their desks," he continued. "That crushed him, I think. Because he knew that he wasn't like him."
I blinked rapidly and continued to listen to Wonwoo intently, leaning forward and neglecting my plate of cooling chocolate pancakes.
"The next day, while he was watching, Seungcheol went up to a different boy and pinched and kicked him just like he did with the other."
He took a long drink from his mug of coffee and set it down, casting me a teasing smile. I felt confusion sweeping through me in massive waves, a frown decorating my mouth. I opened my mouth to ask him why he'd told me the story of Seungcheol and his grade-school crush, but the sudden light jolt of pain across my shin broke my thoughts. I looked down below the table and saw that Wonwoo's foot had kicked my leg gently, and when I looked up to ask him what the hell he was thinking, I saw a mischievous smile across his lips.
It occurred to me then.
I was the boy.
The waitress approached as I sat in astonishment, picking absently at my partially-eaten stack of pancakes. She sought out Wonwoo, as expected, with a piece of paper in her hands. Her fingers were trembling as she tentatively extended the paper towards him, her eyes gleaming in what appeared to be nervousness.
"Could you - ?" her voice wavered slightly and Wonwoo snatched the paper abruptly from her hands before I could see what was on it. She offered him a blue pen then, and he took it with a gentler haste, scribbling something on it quickly and returning both the paper and the pen to her. I still couldn't see what was on it.
She beamed at him, her eyes twinkling in excitement. "T-thank you."
As she retreated from the table, Wonwoo cleared his throat uncomfortably and then shoved another large bite of his nearly-finished breakfast into his mouth, chewing rapidly and looking everywhere but into my face.
"Wonwoo - " I spoke up quietly, my eyes hesitantly glancing into his. "Why did you sign something?"
He offered me a nervous half-smile. "It was the bill."
"You signed the bill?"
"Of course," he continued. "For security purposes - identification and whatnot."
I blinked rapidly. "I didn't think you even paid yet - " my words broke off and my eyebrows furrowed together as I continued to study his face with tremendous confusion. " - What is going on? Why are you and Seungcheol so secretive with me?"
He set his fork down gently, nodding his head as he pressed his lips together tightly. Looking up at me, he pushed his sunglasses up under his hood into his hair, exposing his eyes to my vision. They were soft, apologetic, almost, and flickered with other unreadable emotions as he stared at me. The words he responded with echoed from earlier in the breakfast and held a grim, remorseful context to them.
"There is so much I want to tell you."
I came home from my breakfast with Wonwoo in better spirits, despite the strange happenings involving his unusual concealing clothing and the bizarre interactions from the timid waitress. The sweet breakfast was a generous welcoming to my empty stomach, and Wonwoo had provided me with laughs and easy conversations that temporarily reminded me that I wasn't completely hopeless or as miserable as I'd thought. I was slightly disappointed when he'd announced we should depart, but I understood as he had errands to run and I, too had things to do.
He dropped me off with a firm, kind hug, demanding that I keep in touch and that we watch a movie or grab a bite to eat sometime soon, and drove off after seeing me open the front door to my complex. I shuffled up my stairs, feeling misery approaching steadily as I neared my door. I was terrified of opening it - what if Seungcheol and Junhui were rolling around on the couch? What if they were cooking together or watching a movie or not watching a movie and having their tongues down one another's throats? Even worse - what if they were curled up together, their limbs tangled intimately within each other's on the sofa, in my plain view?
I inhaled shakily and opened the door, my eyes preparing themselves to see the worst.
I was surprised when the worst never came.
I saw Junhui sitting at the kitchen table, humming lightly to himself with a bottle of wine next to him while holding a glass in his hand. He took a long chug of wine and finished it in one go, placing the glass onto the table. He looked up when I walked in, his eyes widening in recognition and surprise.
"Jeonghan!" he gasped, his voice carrying notes of relief. "Where the hell were you? You had me worried."
"Jihoon's."
I felt guilty about using Jihoon as my escape once again, but I couldn't tell him that I was with the brother of the man he'd fucked the night before. I felt my throat burn as the thought crossed my mind of Seungcheol's exposed body standing before me next to Junhui. Of his syrupy eyes burning into mine as my thoughts puzzled together the sequence of events that had occurred in his bedroom. I inhaled deeply and breezed past his into my bedroom. My eyes immediately locked in on the heavy black bag full of his clothing he'd dropped off near my closet. I needed to get it out of here - I couldn't stand it being in my room, in my sight. I could detect the slight scent of his cologne embedded into the bag and leaking out from the closed zipper and I was sure that I'd drive myself mad with the little reminder of Seungcheol mocking me in the corner.
"Jeonghan?"
My eyes fluttered closed and my jaw clenched. I leaned against the wall, swallowing hard as my breaths became shallow puffs off of my lips.
Shut up shut up shut up
"Could you come out here?"
I was near exploding. I was close to rushing into the kitchen and screaming in his face that I didn't want to talk to him or see him or have anything to do with him again - that he'd betrayed me on the deepest level. But after a few deep, therapeutic breaths, I calmly reminded myself that he was fairly oblivious to the complicated liaisons between Seungcheol and I, and I turned on a slow heel to walk into the kitchen.
He was still drinking his wine, the red liquid pouring into his glass and soon halted for him to continue drinking. I tore my eyes away from him, unable to look at him as my mind kept conjuring up possibilities of activities he had engaged in last night - what they did. I squeezed my eyes shut, feeling the sick, scorching sensation in the pits of my abdomen. He nodded towards the chair in front of him wordlessly and I slid into the seat slowly and stiffly, forcing myself to maintain the deep, relaxing breathing I'd reminded myself to do in the bedroom.
"I need your advice," he spoke up to me, his eyes locked on mine. He placed his glass back down onto the table. "About last night."
I inwardly groaned. "What about it?"
"Well - " he sighed, pausing to remind himself what had happened. A satisfied smile curled at the corner of his lips, his bright eyes finally locking on mine again. "It was - it was amazing, obviously - "
Breathe breathe breathe
"But - I... I don't know," he finished with a heavy, dramatic sigh. "I need your perspective on something."
"I don't think I'm the person you should be talking to this about," I responded evenly, swallowing thickly. And I wasn't. I'd rather be burned alive at this moment than to hear about his wild escapades in the sheets with the disgusting, vile man I pathetically had feelings for. "I'm not exactly an expert in that area."
"I'm not asking you because you're experienced," he replied, "I'm asking you because you're smart. You're logical."
I let my eyes flutter closed for a moment. Opening them slowly, I unclenched my jaw and exhaled heavily through my nose. "What is it?"
"Well, when we ... when we were - " he cleared his throat, shrugging. "- You know. It was good, you know? But there was something very strange about the entire ordeal."
I swallowed hard again, wanting someone to just come into our apartment and shoot me in the head right in that instant and end my misery. Nonetheless, I inhaled sharply and attempted to sound like I gave a damn. "What?"
"He wouldn't kiss me," he frowned with a sigh. "Not on the mouth, anyway."
This threw me off.
I blinked rapidly and stared at him in confusion. "What?"
"It's weird, right?" he questioned, taking another sip of his wine. "Every time I'd try for one, he'd move his head away. And it wasn't just a coincidence because I tried a lot."
I opened my mouth to reply, but I couldn't find words. My heart began pumping furiously within my chest again and I was sure he could hear it from his spot at our table.
"I don't know," I managed to murmur, my eyes dazed and my thoughts scattered as I struggled to figure out what the hell was happening in my mind, my heart, my body.
Junhui sighed lightly. "I don't know, either."
I paused, looking over my shoulder at my bedroom door. I had to get rid of that bag of laundry, but my initial proposal of chucking it out my window and scattering his precious clothing over the damp streets was ludicrous. I was fairly certain that those clothes were worth more than my entire apartment. I supposed that I could return them still dirty, but I didn't want to stir up any more conflicts.
I had to wash them.
I stood swiftly from my seat, making my way back towards my bedroom.
"Where are you going? I still need advice!"
I whipped my head around, my eyes hard as I stared at her. "I have laundry to do," I said evenly. "And I have nothing to say about your awkward fuck buddy."
His eyes widened at my cold words and I promptly turned into my bedroom, hauling Seungcheol's bag over my shoulder. My eyes glanced down at the bag and then up in determination.
I was done being nice.
The walk down Seungcheol and Wonwoo's hallway outside of their rooms had never been longer as I approached his door only a few yards away. And the bag of laundry swung over my shoulder suddenly felt a hundred pounds heavier, pulling my shoulder blade painfully towards the ground with each slow step. The overwhelming feeling of dread had begun to sink in, causing an awful sickness to spread from my stomach up through my chest and into the insides of my skull. I felt like I couldn't breathe, and by the time I'd stopped in front of his door, I was sure that my lungs had caved in within my chest.
I knocked with trembling knuckles, letting my arm drop to my side limply.
When the door opened in front of me, I only saw his face for a split instant. The surprise in his eyes was the first evident emotion that I observed, but I quickly averted my gaze to the floor as to avoid any other overpowering feelings to emerge. I knew he'd be surprised I was there - I'd come by with his clean laundry without him requesting it. But I wanted to dump off the clothing as soon as I could; seeing his bag slumped over near my closet brought forth too many painful memories and reminders of the despicable person that owned them.
He stood silently as I stared at the floor, and with a shaky arm, I let the strap of the bag slide down my shoulder. "Your laundry," I spoke quietly.
"Cleaned?" his voice held a tone of incredulity to it - he was more than astounded that I'd abided by his repulsive contract even after his sickening course of actions the night before.
"Yes."
He didn't reply, but I saw from the corner of my eye his feet shift. He'd moved over, allowing me access into the loft, and I'd wanted nothing more than to throw the bag at his face and turn on my heel to run as far away as possible. It was a shame that the damn bag was too heavy.
I hesitantly took a few steps forward, entering the familiar surroundings with the bag still hoisted over my sore shoulder blade. He closed the door quietly behind me and moved around me, standing a good distance from my body. I glanced up at him, avoiding his gaze, and saw that he was thankfully dressed in some dark, baggy pants and a white tee. His arms were to his side, his jaw tight and his facial expression severe as he studied me.
"Could you put them away?"
My eyes quickly flitted up to his, widening at his words. Because what he'd said wasn't the usual barked command, but what he'd said was a soft, almost kind request. I blinked quickly, gathering my thoughts as my blood pumped furiously through my veins, and managed to nod slowly.
"The closet or the dresser?" I asked quietly.
He glanced over his shoulder towards his bedroom door and then back to me, his brown gaze still holding the gentleness from when I'd come in.
"Both," he replied. "Uh, the, um - the pants go in the closet and - the shirts in the dresser."
I nodded almost to myself and moved to walk around him, letting the bag slide off my shoulder entirely and fall to the floor at my feet with a heavy thud. I inhaled deeply through my nose, staring around the room for a moment, and then crouched down to unzip his bag. I pulled out the first piece of clothing - a deep red, long-sleeved shirt, and stood with shaky knees to my feet. I approached the dresser and pulled out one drawer, folding the shirt to the best of my abilities and then tucking it inside. As I moved back to the bag, I felt his eyes continue to sear into me.
"Where did you go last night?" his deep voice echoed through the quiet room, causing my fingers to involuntarily jerk against the fabric. The fact that he had the nerve to bring forth a topic of conversation involving the hellish experience I'd been exposed to last night was infuriating.
I grit my teeth together and swiftly walked to the closet with a pair of his jeans in my arms. I pulled off a hanger and folded the jeans through the opening, sliding the hanger into the array of clothing. I inhaled sharply and muttered a calm reply, "A friend's."
"Oh."
I went back to the bag, retrieving another deep grey shirt, and made my way back to the open drawer of his dresser. I could still feel his gaze blistering into me.
"So ... what," he spoke up again. "You're going to give me the cold shoulder then?"
I didn't reply. I continued my task, retrieving, folding, and putting away. Retrieve, fold, put away. Retrieve, fold, put away.
I moved to fold away a smaller undershirt and opted to open one of the upper drawers, ready to shove that infuriating thin undershirt within the confines of the reminders of Seungcheol's previous escapades. I heard a sharp intake of breath from behind me, something that sounded like an attempt to say no don't, but I was bent on pissing him off. I opened the drawer with a quick yank, my mouth curled into a sneer. I was expecting to see the little perfumed slips of pink and blue and yellow papers sitting askew among one another inside of the drawer - and I was half-expecting to see Junhui's trademark stationary paper resting atop all of them, but my eyes widened as the drawer completely pulled open.
My eyes didn't meet the sight of the little papers, instead, my gaze was locked on the smooth, wooden bottom of the drawer.
The drawer was empty.
I blinked rapidly, my thoughts racing at incredible force within my head, and I willed myself to comprehend what was happening.
Seungcheol's drawer was empty.
Was I losing my mind?
I shakily opened the drawer next to it, the one that had the girls that had "earned their spots" for future call-back references, and my entire throat and mouth dried at the sight of the same stark, empty container.
I stood back, my eyes shifting rapidly from one drawer to the other.
I felt his footsteps near me again, and I could feel the heat of his body radiating off of him into my back from behind me. We both stood unmoving, until I heard him exhale softly.
"I threw them away," he murmured quietly, his voice holding an unusual gentleness to it.
I felt my eyes fluttered closed.
God, I inwardly begged. God, please help me. I don't know what to do.
As my eyes fluttered back open, the images of Seungcheol in my living room and the sounds of Junhui's voice moaning loudly flooded my senses and I was reminded again of the awful things he'd done last night. Of the hell he'd put me through.
Turning quickly, I willed a stoic, indifferent expression onto my face and brushed past him, careful not to make any contact with his body as I moved by. I reached into his bag to pull out another pair of pants, striding to the closet to hang them among the others.
"You're not going to say anything?"
"What do you want me to say?" I replied coldly, hanging his pants up with aggravated force. "Did you want me to pat you on the back for tossing out your phone numbers? Did you want me to give you a gold star?" I swallowed thickly. "Is this supposed to mean something?"
He stood silently for a moment, his jaw clenched tightly and his eyes hardening into the cold brown orbs I'd been accustomed to since I'd met him. His eyes narrowed on me and he shook his head slowly. "You're being a dick because of last night, aren't you?"
I didn't respond. I turned quickly back to the closet as my throat had felt like it had begun to close again. I couldn't believe he'd bring this up, couldn't fucking believe -
"You're still hung up over me fucking your roommate."
Because that's something you get over in less than twenty-four hours, I wanted to yell at him, scream at him.
Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.
"You're a fucking hypocrite if you're angry about that," his voice was cold and callous behind me. "Considering what you did last night."
"What?" I turned to him, letting a bitter, humorless laugh escape my mouth. "What did I do, Seungcheol? Tell me."
"Oh please, don't play stupid," his upper lip curled into a sneer, his eyes flitting over me with disgust. "I know you fucked that faggot last night."
I stared at him for a long moment. His eyes were dark but almost unreadable as his gaze challenged mine, and I realized in that instant just how tense and stiff his body was.
"You really think I - "
"I know you did." His voice was eerily quiet as he spoke, his face unmoving and his body maintaining its rigid posture. He clicked his tongue, his eyes sweeping over me in a disapproving manner as he shook his head. "And to think that I thought you were different."
I let out a bitter laugh at this, shaking my head at the irony of the situation, and moved to brush past him to continue my task.
He moved with me, I could feel his footsteps walking in-step with mine behind me as I crouched down to pull out another article of clothing. I needed to finish. I needed to get out of there. My lungs were closing in, my heart was aching, my stomach was churning, my head was pounding. He made me miserable.
"So, was it at his place?" he taunted relentlessly from behind me. "Or in the car?"
I ignored him.
Finish. Finish. Finish.
"Was he rough?" he continued to ridicule, stepping closer behind me. "Or was it nice and sweet and gentle? Was it everything you hoped your first time to - "
"Shut up!" I whirled around, absolutely fuming, staring into his eyes with a viciously cold gaze. "You are out of your mind," I hissed. "You know nothing - " I paused, my breathing heavy and the rage floating through me at a rapid pace. Inhaling slowly, I met his gaze, and spoke slowly, carefully. "I didn't sleep with him."
His eyes widened slightly, his lips parting only a bit.
"That's right," I nodded, my eyes maintaining their coolness as they locked in on his. "That's right, Seungcheol. I didn't fuck the faggot. He kissed me goodnight and I came up to you and Junhui - " I inhaled shakily, my words breaking at the last few syllables. " - I... I heard you last night."
He was silent.
I let out a small, dry laugh, its sound laced with bitterness. "Do you know what the most fucked up part of the entire night was?" I swallowed hard, closing my eyes. "The entire - the entire time I was with him, I couldn't - I... I couldn't stop thinking - " my words were wavering, my voice was becoming softer, and I knew I was quickly deteriorating in front of him. "Nevermind," I swallowed thickly and turned around to avoid his gaze. "Nevermind, it doesn't matter anymore."
I heard him inhale softly from behind me. I knew the news that I didn't have sex with Mingyu more than likely astounded him - but did he really think that lowly of me? I have morals and I was disgusted that he threw those ideals out of the window for some outrageous assumptions about my excursions with Mingyu the night before.
"I'm almost done," I announced, my voice still trembling only slightly. "I - I have only a few things left." I reached down to pull out one of the last t-shirts, and when I stood to my full height, I felt his hand come to touch my arm.
"Jeonghan - "
I jerked at the contact and whirled around to face him, fury flooding me at an incredible rate.
"Don't!" I hissed, wrenching my arm back from the soft pressure of his long fingers. "Don't touch me - " I reached down to cradle at my forearm where his hand had been - it felt as if the contact had burned the flesh there. "Call me a hideous bitch... tell - tell me I'm w-worthless..." I whispered, curling away from him as he stared on with a wavering brown gaze. "- But... but don't you - don't ever touch me..."
He said something under his breath, but I couldn't understand it. My mind was too busy racing and causing me distress - my entire body was crumbling beneath me and I was powerless to stop it. Seungcheol's face looked almost pained, but I was having difficulty identifying anything with him anymore. I turned away. I felt my eyes lining with hot liquid and I could not let him see me fall apart in his bedroom.
"Do you have any - any idea - " my trembling voice gained momentum and volume as I spoke, and I turned again to face him, not caring that my eyes were probably near-leaking all over my face and that my cheeks were probably flushed an unappealing red color. " - How I felt seeing you - you... with - last night?" My voice shook and I felt the first thin drop of tears slide from my eyes down the flesh of my cheek. I stepped forward, a surge of courage sweeping through me. My voice cracked, but came out louder, a near-yell. "Do you know what it was like?"
"How do you think I felt?"
His voice was louder than mine, a sharp bark as he stepped forward to me. A storm was brewing in his infuriated brown gaze as he stared down at me, and I felt the air being ripped from the confines of my chest.
He was breathing heavily as he took another step forward near me. "How the fuck do you think I felt seeing you?" he panted, swallowing hard. "Seeing you - dressed up ... looking like - " his jaw tightened considerably. "- For him?"
We were both breathing heavily and the room was enveloped in a thick, uneasy silence as our staring contest never wavered. I swallowed hard, my mouth trembling and my tongue feeling heavy within the imprisonment of my dry mouth.
My words came out a hushed whisper. "Why did you care?"
His eyes were viciously hard on me and I saw his nostrils flare. "It was supposed to be me."
I blinked rapidly, my eyes still lined with those awful hot tears, threatening to fall out and over my face.
Seungcheol inhaled deeply. "Why did you care?"
I knew he was referring to the incident with Junhui.
I let out a shaky exhale of air, my eyes never breaking the contact. I swallowed back a heavy sob as the memory of Seungcheol in my living room was brought to my mind. "It - " my voice cracked. " - It was supposed to be me."
We stood in silence there, unmoving, our eyes never leaving one another's.
It might have been him, it might have been me, it might have been both of us at the same time that made the move, but moments later I found us pressed up against one another, my arms wrapped tightly around his torso, his arms tightened around my upper shoulders. His face was buried in my hair and my own face was pressed into his t-shirt in a similar way that I'd done with his brother after feeling the agony the night prior. I don't know how long we stood there, pressed together with our arms locked around one another, but I knew that my eyes were leaking over his shirt and that he smelled so wonderful and his arms felt so protective and perfect and I never wanted it to end.
I felt him sigh into the crook of my neck, a shaky and broken sound laced through his warm breath.
"What are you doing to me?"
I swallowed hard, pressing my face closer to him and tightening my arms around him. He followed suit, his lean arms squeezing me tighter, and in that moment I knew things had changed between the two of us.