Countdown -- 10.1
Measure it out in inches; Jinki/Minho; PG-13
note: Smut is too hard for me. So just...insert your own scene. Make up something. Imagine it. And I'm updating with only the first part of the chapter because it's taking too long to write bit by bit. = 3=
prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10.1
Chapter ten -- part i
I didn't know why I could so assuredly close my eyes.
I didn't know why I could so readily offer up my everything.
I was someone who, even as a child, had rarely held hands with my mother.
And yet tonight, without resistance, I was going all the way with a perfect stranger.
Chastity.
Fidelity.
Love.
Perhaps nothing really mattered anymore.
Only those who had a future ahead of them needed to worry about the consequences of their actions. And with merely a hundred and twenty days left, I had no use for prudence and reservations.
That makes sense.
I think.
As I was consumed from the inside out, I didn't feel much of anything.
My mind was absolutely blank.
It was peaceful.
So unbelievably peaceful.
......
Leaning against the cold varnished headboard, he and I silently gazed at each other's reflection in the large wall mirror. Only moments before, we'd been inextricably tangled up in one another. But now, in the aftermath, we were once again separated by the perfect distance that always quietly found its way between two strangers. The stark contrast was no surprise though: we were each acting in accordance with our own needs and reasons, making use of the other in every way we could.
Intimacy just happened to be the common means to our respective ends.
But even so, watching him through the mirror, some part of me felt complete.
Perhaps it was twisted to believe that, but I did.
Somehow.
I thought it was because of the way he looked back at me.
That he would look back at me at all.
His eyes were bottomless.
Even staring into them through the mirror made me feel like I was slowly falling. They drew me forward like a moth to flames. However, I caught myself in time and forced my eyes away from his. Regret had yet to catch up to me, but reason had. I knew I couldn't afford the fall.
I became a little uneasy. What should I do now? He didn't seem as if he wanted to lie back down and go to sleep. He also didn't show any intentions of getting up and kicking me out. Without a single cue from him, I had no idea how to go about wrapping up this one night stand.
Was it common practice to leave at my own convenience or must I wait till he gave me the signal? Should I get dressed here or would it be better to do it in the hallway? Did I have to remove myself from his sight as quickly as possible or could I to stay an extra moment, ask for a phone and call a taxi? And a shower maybe? A shower would be nice.
I didn't know.
I didn't know a thing.
And then I decided I didn't care.
The man sitting beside me finally stirred. Unconsciously licking the small cut on his bottom lip, he ran a hand through his tousled hair as he lifted his torso off the headboard. Bending over the edge of the bed, he picked up the designer charcoal blazer that he had nonchalantly tossed onto the floor hours ago. From an inside pocket, he fished out a pack of cigarettes and a metal case lighter. Then he easily threw the blazer onto the back of the armchair near the window.
Every single one of his movements was unhurried, effortless, graceful.
Turning towards me, he asked. "Do you mind?"
I blinked in surprise.
He had never asked me whether or not I minded. Not the first time it happened. And not once thereafter.
So my one-sided love was this wretched, huh?
Wretched enough that it took a stranger to finally ask about my feelings.
I numbly shook my head.
The man pulled out a cigarette, put it to his lips, and lit it with the lighter. The familiarly offensive scent soon intruded my nostrils. Having nothing better to do, I reached for the thread that had somehow become buried in the skin at the base of my throat. Tugging on it, I pulled the metal key back into its original position. There was probably a red mark now, I thought, absently playing with the blade of the key. The bittings glided smoothly over the pad of my index finger.
I knew he was watching my every move through the mirror. Glancing up at his reflection, for a moment, I thought it looked like the man had something he wanted to say.
But before he could fully open his mouth, I held out an empty hand in his direction.
He lowered his eyes to stare at my palm and for a good while, he gave no response.
I waited patiently despite the growing soreness in my arm.
In the end, he smiled.
"What? You want compensation? This is the first time that my judgment has erred. Didn't think you were like that." As he spoke, he leaned over the edge of the bed again, stretching out to pick up his pants so he could get out his wallet. "Oh well. Makes no difference I suppose. Name a price-"
It wasn't that I was particularly affronted by his assumption, but I still cut him off curtly. "Cigarette."
His fingers paused on the belt loops of his pants. "Cigarette?"
Yes. It was exactly this presumptuousness that was anathema to me.
But this man wasn't worth any bitterness or hatred.
He straightened himself and picked up the pack that he had tossed onto the bedside table. I took one from him, experimentally feeling the skinny white cylinder between my fingers. Placing it between my lips, I waited for him to help me light up. However, despite leaning over to my side of the bed with his lighter in hand, he made no further move.
A knowing smirk playfully decorated his lips. "So my judgment isn't wrong after all. And if my judgment isn't wrong, then you don't smoke, do you?"
I cast him an expressionless look. "There's a first time for everything."
He chuckled. "Is that so?"
He put his cigarette back in his mouth and lit up mine. Recalling the manner in which that person used to smoke, I tentatively drew a sizable breath. But before I could even finish inhaling, I had to take the vile thing out of my mouth as I doubled over, violently coughing till my whole body was quaking. I wouldn't have been astonished if I'd managed to cough up a lung. And with each shuddering tremor, a spear of pain shot up my spine.
The man was smiling almost affectionately as he ran a large hand up and down my back, soothing me. When the seemingly endless bout of coughs died down into intermittent wheezes, he started rubbing circles into my skin. Quietly, he murmured in that deep voice of his: "So tell me again, why do you do this to yourself?"
Why did I do this to myself?
I dug my fingers deep into the bedsheets and closed them into fists.
Because I was sick.
Because I was going to die.
Because if I didn't do something now, there might never be a next time.
Because I shouldn't care.
Because I didn't care.
Because-
"You're an idiot." He laughed.
I turned my face, ready to spear him with an indignant glare, but he was one step ahead of me. His hand stealthily slipped up to my nape and grasped the back of my head, pulling me towards him as he aggressively molded his lips over mine. A muffled F... was all that managed to escape; the rest was soundlessly lost in the moist cavern of his mouth.
......
____a/n: Don't ask me why he has a blazer even though it's summer. =_=
Picked a random spot to pause.
I'll post the rest when I can.
......
chapter 10.2
note: Smut is too hard for me. So just...insert your own scene. Make up something. Imagine it. And I'm updating with only the first part of the chapter because it's taking too long to write bit by bit. = 3=
prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10.1
Chapter ten -- part i
I didn't know why I could so assuredly close my eyes.
I didn't know why I could so readily offer up my everything.
I was someone who, even as a child, had rarely held hands with my mother.
And yet tonight, without resistance, I was going all the way with a perfect stranger.
Chastity.
Fidelity.
Love.
Perhaps nothing really mattered anymore.
Only those who had a future ahead of them needed to worry about the consequences of their actions. And with merely a hundred and twenty days left, I had no use for prudence and reservations.
That makes sense.
I think.
As I was consumed from the inside out, I didn't feel much of anything.
My mind was absolutely blank.
It was peaceful.
So unbelievably peaceful.
......
Leaning against the cold varnished headboard, he and I silently gazed at each other's reflection in the large wall mirror. Only moments before, we'd been inextricably tangled up in one another. But now, in the aftermath, we were once again separated by the perfect distance that always quietly found its way between two strangers. The stark contrast was no surprise though: we were each acting in accordance with our own needs and reasons, making use of the other in every way we could.
Intimacy just happened to be the common means to our respective ends.
But even so, watching him through the mirror, some part of me felt complete.
Perhaps it was twisted to believe that, but I did.
Somehow.
I thought it was because of the way he looked back at me.
That he would look back at me at all.
His eyes were bottomless.
Even staring into them through the mirror made me feel like I was slowly falling. They drew me forward like a moth to flames. However, I caught myself in time and forced my eyes away from his. Regret had yet to catch up to me, but reason had. I knew I couldn't afford the fall.
I became a little uneasy. What should I do now? He didn't seem as if he wanted to lie back down and go to sleep. He also didn't show any intentions of getting up and kicking me out. Without a single cue from him, I had no idea how to go about wrapping up this one night stand.
Was it common practice to leave at my own convenience or must I wait till he gave me the signal? Should I get dressed here or would it be better to do it in the hallway? Did I have to remove myself from his sight as quickly as possible or could I to stay an extra moment, ask for a phone and call a taxi? And a shower maybe? A shower would be nice.
I didn't know.
I didn't know a thing.
And then I decided I didn't care.
The man sitting beside me finally stirred. Unconsciously licking the small cut on his bottom lip, he ran a hand through his tousled hair as he lifted his torso off the headboard. Bending over the edge of the bed, he picked up the designer charcoal blazer that he had nonchalantly tossed onto the floor hours ago. From an inside pocket, he fished out a pack of cigarettes and a metal case lighter. Then he easily threw the blazer onto the back of the armchair near the window.
Every single one of his movements was unhurried, effortless, graceful.
Turning towards me, he asked. "Do you mind?"
I blinked in surprise.
He had never asked me whether or not I minded. Not the first time it happened. And not once thereafter.
So my one-sided love was this wretched, huh?
Wretched enough that it took a stranger to finally ask about my feelings.
I numbly shook my head.
The man pulled out a cigarette, put it to his lips, and lit it with the lighter. The familiarly offensive scent soon intruded my nostrils. Having nothing better to do, I reached for the thread that had somehow become buried in the skin at the base of my throat. Tugging on it, I pulled the metal key back into its original position. There was probably a red mark now, I thought, absently playing with the blade of the key. The bittings glided smoothly over the pad of my index finger.
I knew he was watching my every move through the mirror. Glancing up at his reflection, for a moment, I thought it looked like the man had something he wanted to say.
But before he could fully open his mouth, I held out an empty hand in his direction.
He lowered his eyes to stare at my palm and for a good while, he gave no response.
I waited patiently despite the growing soreness in my arm.
In the end, he smiled.
"What? You want compensation? This is the first time that my judgment has erred. Didn't think you were like that." As he spoke, he leaned over the edge of the bed again, stretching out to pick up his pants so he could get out his wallet. "Oh well. Makes no difference I suppose. Name a price-"
It wasn't that I was particularly affronted by his assumption, but I still cut him off curtly. "Cigarette."
His fingers paused on the belt loops of his pants. "Cigarette?"
Yes. It was exactly this presumptuousness that was anathema to me.
But this man wasn't worth any bitterness or hatred.
He straightened himself and picked up the pack that he had tossed onto the bedside table. I took one from him, experimentally feeling the skinny white cylinder between my fingers. Placing it between my lips, I waited for him to help me light up. However, despite leaning over to my side of the bed with his lighter in hand, he made no further move.
A knowing smirk playfully decorated his lips. "So my judgment isn't wrong after all. And if my judgment isn't wrong, then you don't smoke, do you?"
I cast him an expressionless look. "There's a first time for everything."
He chuckled. "Is that so?"
He put his cigarette back in his mouth and lit up mine. Recalling the manner in which that person used to smoke, I tentatively drew a sizable breath. But before I could even finish inhaling, I had to take the vile thing out of my mouth as I doubled over, violently coughing till my whole body was quaking. I wouldn't have been astonished if I'd managed to cough up a lung. And with each shuddering tremor, a spear of pain shot up my spine.
The man was smiling almost affectionately as he ran a large hand up and down my back, soothing me. When the seemingly endless bout of coughs died down into intermittent wheezes, he started rubbing circles into my skin. Quietly, he murmured in that deep voice of his: "So tell me again, why do you do this to yourself?"
Why did I do this to myself?
I dug my fingers deep into the bedsheets and closed them into fists.
Because I was sick.
Because I was going to die.
Because if I didn't do something now, there might never be a next time.
Because I shouldn't care.
Because I didn't care.
Because-
"You're an idiot." He laughed.
I turned my face, ready to spear him with an indignant glare, but he was one step ahead of me. His hand stealthily slipped up to my nape and grasped the back of my head, pulling me towards him as he aggressively molded his lips over mine. A muffled F... was all that managed to escape; the rest was soundlessly lost in the moist cavern of his mouth.
......
____a/n: Don't ask me why he has a blazer even though it's summer. =_=
Picked a random spot to pause.
I'll post the rest when I can.
......
chapter 10.2