I know I said I wouldn't put trigger warnings at the start anymore, but non-consensual sexual content will appear here!!! I kept it brief, but you'll know it happened. I'm not using it as an aesthetic or anything of that sort. This is a serious issue, and it's not to be taken lightly. If you don't feel comfortable reading it, or if it's triggering for you, I BEG YOU, SKIP IT!!!
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My breath hitched in my throat and I felt as if my eyes were about to fall out of their sockets as I continued staring ahead. My heart rate increased, I felt myself sweating, and everything else seemed to disappear.
I couldn't hear Chanyeol's voice as he spoke. I couldn't care less about the camera flashes or the looks of adoration coming from the guests. Hell, everyone in the room could be swallowed by the ground beneath their feet, and I doubted I would notice.
Because as soon as my eyes met the familiar brown orbs I've grown to love more than I could ever hope to love anything else, everything else ceased to exist. The ones I've been longing to see the most, and for which subconsciously looking for wherever I went to, were right there. At that moment, it was just me and you, even in the crowded room. It was you I could see, and everyone else became a blur.
It all came rushing back, all the memories I tried so hard to bury, they all came crashing down, suffocating me the second your gaze focused on mine and I no longer saw the girl who I loved with my whole heart looking back at me.
But one thing hasn't changed. Just how every time our eyes would connect, it would bring me into a world that was no longer reality. It brought me somewhere else, where time and space no longer existed, and everything was still. It was a different universe where no one existed but you and me. Where there were just the two of us surrounded by silence, only interrupted by the beating of our hearts. Because though I couldn't hear it, I felt as if I did. As if you were right here, your breath hitting my face as you were dumbstruck, yet your expression didn't let it on. It was almost as if you expected to see me, that it didn't even phase you.
I knew for a fact that was it not for the time I've spent with you during our last year of college, I would in fact not recognize you at all. Nothing about you seemed to be the same, even your face was different, colder. You were no longer the human version of sunshine, rather than one of the poles.
And then you turned around, not sparing anyone a glance, and all I could see was your hair flowing behind you as it was your turn to walk away this time.
I wanted to run, to scream, and to shout, anything. It hurts seeing you go as if I didn't matter, as if you didn't even know me. Because in just those few seconds I was granted a view at your face, I felt it all, all over again. All those feelings you ignited in me, creating a bonfire that only grew with each smile and word spoken, came rushing back. But this time, it didn't start with a simple spark, setting a few logs on fire, cracking in the quiet night. No, this time the fire grew into the raging one that was left inside me the day I left you. I had no chance to recuperate, to get used to the sensation I was sure I would never feel again. And yet, you looked as if you didn't even notice I was there.
However, it would be unfair of me to hold it against you. How could you care, after everything I've put you through? Why should you show any emotion other than hatred when you noticed I was standing tall in front of you, "happy" with my life as if I haven't ruined yours? And yet, I didn't see any hatred in your eyes. But that was exactly the thing that scared me most; I saw nothing in your gaze. And for a reason, that was even worse. Because if you hated me, if I was burning under your glare, I would at least know you acknowledged me. But you didn't, and I knew I no longer meant anything to you.
For you, it was nothing. A brief moment that passed sooner than it has begun. But for me, it was a moment where seconds turned to hours. A moment of absolute joy and happiness, only to realize I shouldn't be happy by seeing you. That I lost the right to be happy a long time ago.
Yet, I couldn't stop the flood of memories that your face brought, as I let my dam open for the first time in two years. And the water was strong. So much so, that it almost knocked me down to my feet, as I struggled to come up for air. But I didn't dare to close my eyes to compose myself, to bring myself back to reality when I was face to face with the most beautiful woman I've ever seen, even if it brought more pain than any harsh words or beatings that were brought up on me.
It hurt more than the pure torture that I couldn't get rid of for a year after I've left, because every time I closed my eyes, I saw you. I saw you sad and disappointed. I saw you hurt, crying tears that I could no longer wipe away. Hearing sobs, I could no longer swallow as I'd press my lips against your quivering ones. Because even when I reached forward, my hand fell right through you like you were just a projection. Yet you kept crying, hurting, and showing me just what I've done until I was begging for mercy and only then, was I allowed to wake up.
But that wasn't what would save me each time. How could it, when I woke up without you, with only the knowledge I wouldn't see you again? That I cause you pain I could never take away. One that would stay with you, instead of me.
And though I had the time to feel all the things I gave up on feeling a long time ago, the time to relive the most painful moment of my life thoroughly, I knew it couldn't be longer than ten seconds. Because as soon as I blinked my tears away, hoping the prying flashes of the cameras wouldn't catch them, I was already watching your back as you retreated away from the stage, a camera dangling down your side.
That's when I let my tears flow. When all I could feel was the same pain all over again, as I felt more alone than ever. And I had no one else to blame but myself. I did this; I left only to be left by you with nothing but an empty stare.
I was falling again, yet I was someone you didn't care about anymore. In my head, I wrote songs for you, hundreds of them. Cried oceans of tears, hoping at least one would reach you once you would dip your toes into the salty water. And I know you will never need me again, not the way I will forever need you.
So what am I now?
A pathetic woman, standing on a stage where I can't reach you, falling all over again. A woman that wakes up in a stranger's bed every night, only to realize you're not there. I was nothing without you. Nothing but a lifeless body moving around like a puppet moved around by silver strings.
I shed tears for you, just like you've done countless times for me. But just the way I wasn't there to wipe yours, you weren't there to wipe mine. Instead, I was pulled closer by a forceful hand on my waist and felt a kiss being pressed to my temple. But I wasn't present.
There was rough skin of someone's thumb wiping my tears away that only kept on flowing with every step you took.
I was hoping, praying, for a sign you cared. I saw you turn around, your eyes connecting with mine as you'd smile the way used to. I saw it in my mind as I've tried manifesting the moment I so desperately needed as if to just make sure it was in fact you, I saw. That it wasn't a ghost of you that haunted me every night for months after I've left, in whose embrace I ended up crying my eyes out, the shards left of my heart slipping away out of my eye sockets that were their only escape.
But you never did.
You didn't spare me a second glance.
...
I remembered little of what happened afterward. The room went black for a second as I lost my footing, only to be caught by the hand of my attentive husband. Yet, everything remained blurry and not just for the tears that haven't stopped falling since the moment I saw you.
Of course, Chanyeol, not knowing the reason behind my sudden change of mood, assumed it must've been because of the hormones and happiness, so he didn't question it even when I remained in my broken down state hours later. It came and went in waves, really.
Obviously, I cried the whole time on stage and had to suppress my sobs so the tears would look at least somewhat happy, instead of the cry of a broken soul. Yet, even though hours have passed since then, I couldn't stop myself from crying my eyes out some more, as my heart bled with every flashback of your face.
And when I thought it was over, that I was done wailing because about ten minutes have passed since salty droplets slid across my now hollowed cheeks, they came right back proving me I still had more tears to shed. That all those years of suppressing them were catching up to me without giving me a break longer than a few minutes.
For the first time, I was actually grateful for the baby growing inside my womb for has it not been for it, Chanyeol would grow frustrated, angry, and way too curious. And if he wanted something, he would get it. So if he decided to find out the reason for my sudden breakdown, he would. No matter how hard I would try not to. And despite it being years, I knew it wouldn't end well.
I mean, he knew I had a girlfriend before as he "oh so mercifully decided to forgive me for such a sin", and loved me despite all the horrible mistakes I've made. Yet, I don't think he would like to see me still so affected by her when I was supposed to be head over heels in love with him. I wondered if he truly thought I was, or whether he was still trying to make me fall. If the latter, he was surely doing a horrible job, and in the case of the former, then he must've been the most oblivious, narcissistic person I knew.
Naturally, the cameras ate it up. Thankfully. Because the second my first tear fell, the flashes returned in full vigor and an even faster frequency than before, as if each new tear deserved a new picture from each angle. Have it not been for the state I was in, it would have annoyed me. But seeing as all I could focus on was not falling into the endless loop that would only lead to my old friend, a panic attack, I couldn't make myself care.
However, just because I couldn't care less in the specific moment, I knew the time where I would actually give a damn would come. I hated it when so many people took so many pictures at once, even though there were just a few photographers scattered around the stage. And I especially hated it when I wasn't ready, completely dolled up, and looking "perfect". No, this time around, my eye makeup was probably all over the place and my eyes would be all red and swollen.
But on a positive note, at least this way, Chanyeol would keep off my back. Because as long as it was good press, he loved it. And of course, Park Chanyeol announcing his wife's pregnancy at his event, that's supposed to be about his achievements, was certainly good. Me weeping in the background, though, was a bonus he would appreciate. No beating for me tonight for looking "too stoic" or "too uninterested". No, this time around, I cried out of happiness for our unborn child and pride for the love of my life. At least that's what he seemed to believe, and I was thankful for as much because I didn't think I could handle any more pain tonight.
Well, not physical anyway. Because God knew I wouldn't be getting any sleep tonight and my mind would be filled with dark locks of the raven-haired girl I've seen earlier. And if I managed to fall asleep, I knew I would meet her in my dreams that would torment me the entire night until I woke up to the realization that dreams were the only place where I could see her. Because in real life, she hated me; she didn't know of me, and she couldn't care less what my life has become.
Knowing my husband though, he wouldn't leave me alone for the night and would definitely interfere with my evening plans. Surely, he would attempt to show me just how I wasn't the only one "oh so excited" about our baby. Because even he grew soft sometimes, caring and loving, though it was a rare occurrence. Yet, moments like that proved to me that he did indeed love me, at least to a certain extent, and it felt strange to know that he cared, while I was thinking of ways to escape the life he has given me. It almost made me feel guilty sometimes, but it wasn't like I could ever be honest with him, anyway.
It scared me, and I dreaded the moment that was to come once we decided to hit the bed. I knew saying I was tired wouldn't do anything because if he decided to show me his "love" there was no stopping him. Who cared if I wanted it or not, right? It didn't matter if he was being forceful or gentle, I still hated it and only hoped for the moment to pass as soon as possible.
I once did the mistake of telling him I wasn't up to it when I thought that while being in his more gentle state he would be understanding. Let's just say, I never tried to do it again. It was as if he was bipolar, his mood changing in a matter of seconds, and I really didn't enjoy being on the receiving end of his anger or feelings of rejection. Because he was Park Chanyeol and no one rejected him. Ladies kneeled in front of him and begged him to be intimate with them while he decided to shelter me and treat me as a charity case.
Yet, knowing he wouldn't, I still hoped he would be too tired to do anything this time. That perhaps, the ball and all the cameras have worn him out, but I knew better than to have high hopes of such. Especially after my performance that caught the attention of cameras almost instantly. No, he would want to "reward" his "perfect" wife.
And that was exactly what happened as we stumbled into the hotel room, his lips already on mine, and all I could do was pray for the moment to come to an end. But I already came to an understanding, I got used to it and adapted. This was just the start of something that would go on for what would feel like forever. That this was exactly what would cause the marks on my body to appear, that would hurt twice as much when I'd look at them when I'd shower the next morning.
"You're so perfect," he murmured as he sucked on my neck, eliciting a hiss from my lips because it was anything but nice.
I didn't bother saying anything, nor protesting because I knew that would lead nowhere. He would still do what he desired. He would still ravish my body as if it wasn't mine at all, but then again, it wasn't. Not really. I belonged to him; he made sure to remind me of that any time I'd dare to forget, and whatever he wanted to do to me, whether I'd enjoy it or be in pain. He did as he pleased. Because he could. Because there was no one to stop him. I stopped trying, resisting. It was pointless anyway and only made everything worse. So why bother.
So as always, I'd tilt my head to the side to give him more access, hoping that making things easier for him would lead to an earlier ending. His greedy hands already found their way from my waist to the skirt of the dress as he fisted the fabric, bunching it up. And once the dress was up to my pelvis, he pushed himself between my legs, forcing his groin against my body as his hand kept rummaging my body.
Every touch, even though they started soft, felt forceful, and made me want to swat them away. I hated it. I did not appreciate it sliding across my skin, even if clothed one. I just wanted it to end as I felt uncomfortable and I had to resist the urge to claw at every part of my body he has touched. My skin felt hot, but not in the nice sense where I wanted to let my clothes fall to the ground. It felt hot because his fingertips, his tongue, his lips, and his palms felt like acid, burning through my skin.
I wanted to squirm, to protest, but I knew better than to do so, so I remained in place and shut my eyes close as his hands slid up my sides and cupped my breasts through the dress. I wanted to shout, to cry for him to stop, not to touch me, but his forceful lips, that found their way back to my lips, silenced all the words I wanted to yell into the quiet room.
Please stop, I cried, but as always, the words caught in my throat, and no sound left my mouth as I endured. His tongue was probing at my lips, silently telling me to open my mouth, but I refused to. I didn't want it, especially now, Don't touch me, please Chanyeol, stop.
I can't feel anything. That's what I kept telling myself as I tried to distract my mind from you, knowing where it would lead. I didn't want to think about your gentle caresses while his hands squeezed my flesh against my will. I didn't want to think about your soft lips kissing mine as if trying to remember their taste while his felt like sandpaper, his tongue slick with saliva, licking all around my lips and pushing through assertively.
No, Lisa, I didn't want to compare and think of the way you touched me while he pushed himself on me and bit on my lip so hard I tasted the metal taste of blood flooding through the newly created wound. It hurt, it hurt so much, and with each passing second, I thought I couldn't endure it any longer.
Please, someone, save me. Lisa, please save me. Come back to me. I need you.
This was what I deserved, this was payback for what I did to you. I had no right to complain, to hope for your hands tearing me away from his body leaning into mine. You were gone because I didn't give us a chance. Because I was scared to say goodbye. If only I have said something, things could've been different. But I fucked up, and this was my retribution.
"On your knees, slut," he growled into my ear as he pushed himself into me.
And when he uttered those words, I knew this night would be much worse than I anticipated. At first, I hoped I heard him wrong, but with the way he pushed on my head when his hands made their way to my hair, I knew he wasn't fucking around. Oh God, please no, I screamed on the inside as I sank to the ground, my knees on the hardwood floor, the zipper of his pants at my eye level.
...
"Hey, so I was thinking," Chanyeol spoke suddenly, as we were only covered by the crispy white hotel sheets, bare limbs touching.
"Hm?" I hummed in question, not really feeling up to having any kind of conversation with him after what happened. If it were up to me, I wouldn't even be right here, right now. I would be in a casket in a cemetery, but unfortunately for me, that wasn't an option.
"We should move," he said casually as if such a statement didn't mean a thing.
"What do you mean, move?" I asked alarmed and was about to rise when I remembered that I was nude and bruised underneath, and I didn't really want to give him the satisfaction of seeing the markings he left, "Like away from Korea? Or just a different city?" I hoped for the latter.
"No, I mean like, out of Seoul. Out of Korea,"
"Like where?" I questioned, already having an idea what he would say but dreading it, anyway. And with each millisecond of silence that passed, I became even more terrified that my suspicion would be right.
"Here," Shit, please no, "New York,"
"Why here?"
"Why not?"
"Too much noise, cars, pollution, a whole unknown country. I mean, we have friends back home-" I tried to reason but was cut off by the man lying beside me.
"All those are in Seoul and we have friends here too, so it's fine. Besides, I know you're more comfortable speaking in English so it could be nice for you too. And on top of all, Korea is so boring and conservative, with no competition. Here, there are so many big fish who could at least stand at my level rather than those incapable idiots back home. And with finally branching out here as well, it only makes sense we'd stay. Our baby," he reached for my tummy under the sheets, and as soon as I felt his touch I felt sad for the child that was going to be ours, "will have better opportunities here too,"
"Yeah but-"
"It wasn't a question, Chaeyoung," he snapped and I shut my mouth instantly in fear, knowing better than to talk back, "we're staying. I'll contact some people in Korea so they bring our things over. I already bought a penthouse in Manhattan. It's temporary until we find a nice house somewhere around here,"
I knew I should've stayed silent but I couldn't help but say something, as panic started building up inside me at a rapid pace and anxiety started creeping up on me, already enveloping me in its cold, bony arms, "Are you sure, I mean what about-?"
"Are you not grateful?" he asked angrily, "I provide for you. You don't have to move a fucking finger. I didn't ask for your fucking permission. We're moving and that's final," he paused after that only to scoff in disbelief a couple of seconds later, "One would think you'd be more grateful I've taken you under my wings despite the shit you pulled. Do you think anyone would want your pathetic ass after being with a woman? As much as I try to get over it, you keep reminding me of just how disgusting you used to be when you talk back to me like your opinion even matters. You're lucky you're with me, now you're at least somewhat normal, but clearly, still an ungrateful bitch,"
"I'm sorry," I muttered, but my mind has been on something else already, no longer on the tyrant in whose arms I was forced to lie.
"What was that?" he spat.
"I'm sorry, darling," I repeated louder this time, and he seemed to be content with the apology as he closed his eyes and his face relaxed, letting his head bury further into the soft pillow.
This couldn't be happening. Not here. Anywhere but here. I buried too many memories here, but obviously not as deep as I thought. Because just one look at her face, and they all came rushing back with the same vigor. Eliciting all those emotions I gave up on a long time ago.
No, I couldn't stay in this part of the world and certainly not in this country. Not when I knew she was roaming the same streets. I couldn't stay here when I knew she did too. It was too much for me; it wasn't fair. Why did I have to suffer even more? I would never forget, never forgive myself, and I'd torture myself with those thoughts forever. Wasn't that enough? Now I had to live with the fact she was so painfully close all the time.
Back in Korea, it was easier because I knew she was miles and miles away, but now, she could walk just under my window. And that thought was killing me. So close, but yet so far. And I hated both.
One might think they were just assumptions, and maybe they were, but I just knew she didn't stay in Los Angeles anymore. Not after what happened anyway. I knew her enough to know she would want to escape that place, the memories we made in each part of the city of angels. And the fact she was here was just proof of that. She must've worked for one of the more prestigious magazines here or else she wouldn't be allowed there. Not with a camera anyway.
It didn't surprise me, not the part about her being a part of a huge company. I mean, she was always an amazing photographer; it wasn't surprising she would find her place in a famous company, and yet, the thought of seeing her there hasn't crossed my mind once. There were too many things on my mind when we came here for me to focus on whether I'd see her. No, I was busy trying not to think about her, about my past life that ended. Too busy trying to kill any remains of old Chaeyoung that was screaming at me to look for her. Too busy trying to block her out.
But I guess as faith would have it, I'd meet her. I'd meet her and I wouldn't even have the chance to do anything. Not that I would have much to do if the situation was different. There was nothing I could say that would excuse the damage I caused.
"I'm sorry, for everything"? That wouldn't cut it. That's not what she'd want to hear. Apologies were just meaningless words uttered for one's inner peace. You spoke those words when guilt was eating up on you so much you couldn't sleep, couldn't focus on anything else but the feeling inside your chest and the tiny voice reminding you of just how worthless you were. You spoke those in hopes you'd be forgiven so you could relax your mind.
No, the words of apology weren't for the ones you've hurt. They were for you. Because if you cared about the person whose feelings you've destroyed, you'd give them closure. You would explain your wrongdoings and the reason behind them. You wouldn't even bother with words such as "I'm sorry," because those did no one any good. Those words only reopened the wound that begun to close.
And it was never me to whom I wanted to bring peace. I didn't deserve it. She did.
But even if I got the chance to tell her what happened that night, I knew I wouldn't. I'd be too scared to open my mouth in her presence. Scared that my voice alone would trigger her. That she would snap at me. Rightfully so. And I was scared to hear what she would say. Because I knew that whatever would come out of her mouth would not be nice to hear. That it wouldn't make anything easier and they would stab my already dead heart with several more daggers, just to ensure that all parts of it were no longer functioning.
She wouldn't even stand to be in my presence, though. It was clear from the way she walked away. She wanted to have nothing to do with me. She wouldn't want to hear anything I'd have to say, and once I'd start speaking, she would probably ignore me and walk away. Because the Lisa I knew wouldn't have hit me or shout at me for what I've done. She always kept those feelings on the inside and stuck with ignoring the pain she felt.
But I knew I'd deserve that slap, those harsh words of reality to truly show me just how much I fucked her up. Because I knew that despite knowing I've hurt her, I could never phantom just how much until she showed me. And I knew it must've been worse than anything I could've imagined.
The truth was; I couldn't sleep. Couldn't eat. Couldn't play an instrument. Because each time I did, all I could do was think of you. And you were so far away. What was I supposed to do now, when you were here, in an arm's reach? What was I supposed to do, when all I wanted to was to reach out to you, take your hand as if to ensure you were real? What was I supposed to do when the single thought of you broke my heart?
You were my medicine, you always were, I admit that. And I couldn't quit, so now I was on my knees, sobbing and wishing you'd cure me again. That you'd wake me up once they built a time machine so I could go back. So that I could go back to the times when we were happy and in love. When things were easier and all I had to worry about was school and not spending as much time with you as I desired. You were my always, and forever. The only thing that mattered and the only thing that made me happy.
I wanted to go back. So please, wake me up when you're sleeping next to me. Because I really love you. Even when I thought I no longer did when I thought I forgot you. You were and always will be the only one on my mind. The only one to whom I'll want to come back to, even if the world comes crashing down. Because I wouldn't want to see the world end with someone else.
So though I lost it all in a blink of an eye, like a fire burning out in the night, and my heart stopped beating the second Siwon spoke those words, something inside me was screaming not to say goodbye because what if we found our ways to each other? I wouldn't want to have to say, "Hello, my name is Roseanne, but you used to call me Rosie,". I didn't want us to become strangers. Two souls that parted ways. I wanted to stay yours forever. I didn't want anyone else. I didn't want to explore the world, find myself, have a family, and be happy with anyone else.
People say things work out okay, that what's meant to happen will happen, and I wish that was true. But all we really know is that the sun will rise as the moon falls, only to dance the same way again once the sun sets.
I couldn't sleep anymore, because I didn't know whether you were safe and sound. I didn't know if you were passed out somewhere because you couldn't handle it.
And I thought I couldn't live without you. However, over time, I found out I could. But it could barely be called a life. Because I was walking around aimlessly, hoping I'd see you again. Even if just for a moment. I was hoping, praying, I'd catch a glimpse of your face among the thousands.
I knew I would if you were there because you always stood out. And yet, I never did. Not until today. And it broke me. Because despite not saying goodbye, we were strangers. I was not me, and you were not you. We were two strangers, sharing the same past, but not the same future. Yet, I would love you forever, for whoever you have become, knowing you'd hate me instead.
...
Chanyeol left a few minutes ago to go take care of some business-related stuff that I didn't bother listening to when he told me, and so now, I was left alone in the luxurious suite of a hotel room. I still found it a little over the top but it was comfortable so who was I to complain. Besides, after all, that I had to endure, even I deserved a little break, right? The baby deserved it too, seeing as it must've felt the stress he put me through on a daily basis.
But there was one thing that bugged me. Despite the room being beautiful and glamorous, with a breathtaking view of Manhattan right beneath my fingertips, its size made me feel more lonely than ever.
As usual, I was all alone. I was allowed to go out with a few guards to go shopping or do whatever housewives did, but I was not interested in that. Especially not with the unsettling, anxious feeling that took over me whenever I as much as imagined going outside. It wasn't the shops that made me nervous; it was the outside world. Because sure, a stroll in Central Park sounded nice, but as soon as I imagined walking around, it felt hard to breathe again as my hands became clammy and my heartbeat sped up. No, I couldn't leave this room without feeling that way. Hell, looking down at the streets below made me feel unsettled, and so I avoided the full-length windows as much as possible.
I was incredibly bored like this. If only I had a friend, I could call over, or at least on the phone, to pass time. But I had no one. I could've read a book, and I tried to, but whenever I tried to focus and let myself be engrossed in the fantasy world written across the pages, I was forcefully pulled out by memories of yesterday flashing before my eyes.
There was a grand piano in the corner that I was just itching to play. To let my fingers glide across the ivory keys gently. However, whenever I as much as let my hand slide across the black polished wooden surface of the piano, I felt myself shudder. I couldn't do it. As much as I wanted to, I couldn't. Not when you were the only thing my mind was drawn to. When all songs I played and all lyrics I've sung were for you. It brought more pain than pleasure, and I could no longer find peace in it as I used to.
Television was not an answer to my boredom either. It was filled with stupid shows, each of them having basically the same plot, just different characters, that I was really not interested in watching. Besides, my attention span wasn't that great, especially since yesterday and something as crappy as American television sure as hell wouldn't be able to hold it.
It was hell because I couldn't spread myself on the couch either and let my mind relax. Because as soon as I did so, it crawled back to you and all that filled my vision were beautiful raven locks and enticing, yet empty, brown irises.
So I was stuck pacing back and forth, looking for ways to entertain my mind that kept coming back to you. I couldn't let it. It would only fill me with further pain. Besides, thinking of you wasn't good for what was left of my sanity. No, I had to think about something else, do something else. Anything.
My head snapped to the double door, as a dull sound of knocking resounded through the enormous living room, and a small smile appeared on my lips, as I was thankful for any kind of distraction.
Practically skipping towards the door, I attempted to swing it open, but a firm hold on the knob from the other side kept me from opening it wide. There was just a small crack between the door that gave room just enough so I could see Michael's somewhat concerned face. I realized he was the one having his hand on the door, keeping it from opening further than just a few inches, and I raised a brow in question, not quite understanding the cautious stance he held.
"Mrs. Park, there's someone here asking for you,"
"Oh?"
It seemed like this came as a surprise to the both of us, seeing as he was, just like me, aware of just how alone I was. He knew I had no friends inside or outside Korea and that no one ever visited me (since Chanyeol took the liberty of telling him), so this was a new situation for the both of us. And it was clear, he wasn't sure how to handle it.
"Would you like to see them?" he asked, not sure if what he was doing was right and I could see the hesitancy in his eyes.
"Who is it?" I chuckled.
Obviously, I had to know who they were first, and it was somewhat comical how stressed out the muscular man appeared at the prospect of me having a visitor. It couldn't have been anyone dangerous because they wouldn't even be announced, so it must have been fine, right?
"It's-"
"It's me, Chaeyoung,"
And suddenly, my smile dropped.