Strawberries and Cream [10]
Title: Strawberries and Cream
Rating: PG-13/ R (caution: language and suggestive scenes/ideas)
Word count: 6,971
Author’s note: sorry darlings i wanted to make it up to you for not writing anything for a really long time; i didn't really feel all that well :c this is really messy and i didn’t want to put in effort and yet at the same time i just wanted to pour out of my feelings. this isn’t really an official chapter but just a bonus/filler thing?? so i might delete it later??? to avoid confusion, this is just random things plucked out for each character and going into more depth (somethings do refer back to events that happened in previous chapters) so it's not a plot-mover but it does reveal/hint at new things. and others, i kinda just ~tease~ because I'm like that :D again, it's messy but even so, try to make the best out of it, yeah? love to all of you<333
(and as always, let me know if there are any errors of any sort, so I can fix it~ oh, and don't forget to comment<333)
7.28.13-7.31.13
spilling- nondescript chapter
chansung I’ve watched him for too long. I’ve watched him from afar, miles away, I’ve watched him from my side, just inches apart. And it grew. Those feelings that started something like a drop in the ocean, and then it became oceans pouring into oceans. Something that flushed me inside and out, something that I couldn’t ever deny. I couldn’t stop myself from gravitating towards him. But more so than anything, I couldn’t stop worrying about him when he came back in the deepest abysses of the night with those wounds. The stark red blood endlessly dripping... I don’t know what dripped more-- his tears or his blood. And sometimes I could coax the words and tears out of him, and sometimes he would just block it off. And how I wanted to help him so much. To break him out of his vulnerable state. To see him laugh and smile genuinely, and not have any anxiety and guilt pull him under to drown himself. I didn’t want to witness anymore of his self-wallowing that forced himself to go back into hiding, to go back to harming himself.
He would put himself in those dangerous situations on purpose. He wouldn’t go out to get a knife or a bullet. No, he wouldn’t do that. He made sure it was by other means, long, slow, and tortuous, with other people hurting him. Other rivals, other murders, sex offenders, anyone, to beat him. He would crouch down and let them attack his back. There was a reason: it was because he had used his back to turn against Nichkhun.
And he would always return broken.
broken that he was
broken as ever
shattered, fragmented, crushed, hurt, sobbing, bloody, more sobbing, “I will never forgive myself”
and I cried for you. I cried that you would stop. How could I ever explain that I was hurt to see you in pain? How it tormented me that you wouldn’t let me help you... I clasped my fingers together with yours, binding them tightly, hoping, that the space that I eliminated between my fingers would somehow manage to remind you, that there is more. There is more to than just pain and blood and guilt. There is me. There is you. There is us.
Taecyeon, if you’re listening right now, I just need you to understand that I’m here. I need you to understand that I will always be here for you. I need you to understand that I would never leave you to suffer alone, and it hurts. It hurts how you close yourself off. Let me help you... don’t continue to hurt yourself, just so you could punish yourself for all those years ago. I wish... I wish I could find a way to soothe your restless heart. I wish I could pull you into my embrace, and carry you to sleep. And watch you wake up the next morning, with glittery eyes that spoke of happiness and delight. I know you won’t stop until you’ve punished yourself to the fullest extent for betraying Nichkhun. But hyung, it was so long ago and even now, he still can’t remember... Please, I beg you. Don’t do this to yourself. I know where you are right now, I know what you want to do. I know what limits you’re going to provoke, and I know what hell you’re trying to break loose.
Taecyeon, what more could it possibly take... isn’t 15 years of endless self-punishment enough? Are you going to hurt yourself until death? And even more after? Until when will you be satisfied with how much you’ve hurt yourself? Don’t you understand, even Nichkhun feels hurt with what you’ve done to yourself... if he knew what the reason was, I don’t know what will happen. Maybe he won’t be able to forgive you either. And this will be selfish, but what about me? When will you take a break, and look at me? When will you return a loving gaze that I’ve always had for you?
Taecyeon, please... I’m begging you. Please stop.
junhoMinjun.
That name has defined my other half for the longest time. And for that longest time, it was the best fragment of my life. The most memorable, the most loving, the most amazing. Minjun, I...
forgive me and don’t
love me and don’t
forget me and don’t
hate me and don’t
Minjun, I’m so sorry. Those are the four words I could only offer to you. Minjun, I’m so sorry. But hell, I’d say it for eternity knowing that I can’t say it enough to earn your forgiveness. I know you’ll never forgive me at this point, for rejecting you, for not caring that you cared for me, for not noticing your love for me, for not appreciating it, for never returning it. For never loving you the way you did to me. No, I did love you. I still love you. I will always love you. I’m not going to give you any more excuses, because you’re right, it’s intolerable. It shouldn’t have been tolerable at all in the first place, and yet you dealt with it, and you still kept me in your arms, and you protected me with kisses that I’ll never forget. Oh god Minjun, what have I done... How did I break us apart? I guess there is no possible way for me to fathom how hurt you were, for you to give your heart away to me. And I’m so utterly sorry. I want to apologize forever, I want you to hear me say sorry at the very least. I want you to hear me say that I love you. And I promise you with all my life, with all my heart, with everything that I hold dearest, that those words will not be filled with emptiness. They are filled with everything I have felt for you, from the day we first met. Just like your “I love you” was for me. And I want to show you like I never did before. I want to restore that connection between us that I have severed because of my mistakes. My own stupid stupid mistakes that I would never forgive myself for.
I can’t live without you. I can’t keep dragging out with my life without your presence by my side. I feel so alone and incomplete. There is no warmth to wake up to, blanketing me with affection. Minjun, when you walked out of that hospital, I drove to the beach and I almost committed suicide. It felt so horrible to think that I had lost you because of my own words, because of my fucking attitude towards you that you never did deserve. I hurt you. I hurt you so much. And I couldn’t forgive myself for that, so I wanted to hurt myself. No, actually it was worse. I wanted to end it quickly. Selfishly, without even thinking how Chansung or you would feel. And then we went back to Chansung’s room, and I locked myself in the bathroom and I cried for hours. And there were scissors in my hand, sterling silver glinting beneath the light. I could see myself, the mess that I had become. I’m the mistake that pulled us apart. I realized that while I saw myself on that blade, and I could have killed myself again. I would have been that bloody dead body in the bathroom who had a fiance whom, I know, would probably never forgive himself.
I thought about how you felt for me. I realized how many missed opportunities I had to thank you. To tell you that I loved you. And I wanted to reevaluate my life so that I’m not sacrificing my love for you over my career anymore. You had always sacrificed your job for me, to make me happy. You had always valued me over your business. And never once did I thank you. I was greedy and only ever wanted more. I’m wrong, hyung. I was so wrong to do that to you. And I don’t want to make you feel that everything is at your fault. It was mine. And mine alone.
I will cry and sob until you come back. I will beg for you on my knees, even though you told me not to. Even though you said those punishing black words that are engraved in my mind:
“Later on, don’t fucking come to me and beg on your knees to say that you were wrong-- “Oh Minjun, I’m so sorry, I actually do love you.” Because I mean, why would I want someone who willingly let themselves become a victim of harassment? And then when I try to help them, they won’t even acknowledge that I love them and I sincerely care about them?”
No Minjun, I will go to you and beg on my knees. I will wrap my hands on your legs and sob out the truth, and how I was mistaken, how I was wrong, and you were right. You were always there for me. And not me for you. How I should wallow in guilt and not you. Minjun, I do love you. I’ve always loved you. I’m forever yours but more so than anything, I’m forever sorry. I’ll plead for your forgiveness that I probably don’t even deserve, but for my own selfishness, for you, for us as an entity, I will do it. I have to do it. Because, I miss you. How I miss those lips that curved into a lavishing smirk. Those eyes with loving warmth that never dissipated for me. Your caressing touches, our long intimate nights together, how our hips met, how our lips crashed, how we touched each other’s hearts.
I miss that about you. I miss your voice, your whispers, your teasing. I miss the way you called me “jagiya.” Come back, Minjun. Please forgive me. I need you. Everything happened at the spur of the moment, I’m sure you could understand that too. Can’t you? Won’t you? Will you?
I l o v e y o u t o o m u c h.
Come back to me, jagiya. I miss you so much.
wooyoungA gunshot rang in the air and Wooyoung spun his head around, shrieking in horror. The man had his gun pointing at him. Why is it aimed at me?!! Wooyoung yelped to himself.
But he kept running as fast as his jelly legs could take him. He could feel the red blanket tied around his waist starting to loosen from his neck-breaking pace, so he clung to it, trying to hold it up the best he could. And he kept glancing back, the sight of the boy on the ground with the growing pool of blood fading away from his sight. All he could feel was fear and guilt and pain. Suddenly, darkness started creeping in, spiders crawling out from nowhere, engulfing his limbs and he screamed and screamed and screamed and there was nothing that he could do as he felt himself disintegrate--
That other half of the dream. This was the half that I rarely ever dreamed about, because it was always the sexual assault that came back and replayed over and over. It was never this. I always woke up before this part of the dream. But today it was different.
I had met him.
I.
We were inside that cold dark house. I had a heightened sense of awareness, darting my eyes back and forth, capturing all the details off the walls. I noted the hidden cameras and subtle listening devices. This was a few months after I met Ji Eun and realized that she was the little girl from that incident. I hated her guts. I wanted to shove the sex offender’s dick right down her throat. She deserved it. If it wasn’t for her, I wouldn’t have been this maimed crippled tormented piece of shit. I blinked sadly, realizing how depressing my life had become. As if I wasn’t learning this for the billionth time during my torturous 15 years of degrading self-esteem, every time I came to that realization, it just hit me harder than the last.
Why do I “tolerate” her? Call it revenge. No, call it justification. I had so many plans to bring her down to her knees. I wanted to stomp her life out, and watch her choke for mercy. I wanted her to live in shame as I had done for 15 years. Ji Eun, who was in front, turned around and gave me a glance. “Go fuck yourself over,” I mouthed. Her eyes crumpled up with a hurtful expression, but I wasn’t going to be fooled by her acting. She was as guilty as the next dead person writhing under the wrath of my own hands.
I was trailing her by six feet, because any closer would trigger my phobia, even with her back facing towards me. Just following her lead alone made me tensed up and anxious, and I could feel my lungs tightening in. I tried to tell myself to relax but no matter how persistent I was to myself and how many times I pinched myself to redirect the pain, I could not relax at all. The atmosphere of this house was not helping either. And again, did I realize too late, that I was listening to her words, following her fatally stupid instructions. And again, I was in a trapped nightmare. But this time there would be no hero to save me in his red cape. None at all. This time I probably wasn’t going to leave without getting raped... or maybe I wasn’t going to leave at all.
I pulled out my phone because I was becoming all the more anxious about this place. I wanted to leave. No, I needed to leave so desperately.
8:02pm. WY: Tell me why the fuck we’re here again?
Ji Eun shot a look at me, but I ignored her.
8:02pm. JE: Oppa, do you have to use that language?
8:02pm. WY: WHY. ARE. WE. HERE.
8:03pm. JE: Mr. Kim Bong Gu invited us for tea.
8:03pm. WY: Fuck you.
I despised that name so much. Ji Eun reached the end of the dim hall first and paused at intimidating looking doors. She looked at me with pained eyes, but I could care less. Heck, I’d love to see her eyes get torn out.
She pushed on the handle of the door and it swung wide open. I was still about five feet away from the entrance when I saw the dark silhouette and everything inside of me stopped working. All the springs broke loose and I felt panic rush in. No, I couldn’t deal with it today, who was I lying to? I couldn’t ever deal with this issue for my entirety of a shitty life that I would have to live. There was no way in hell I could ever stand in the existence of the monster who destroyed my life. I spun around and started running, running, running, like as if it was 15 years ago, and fuck! I heard a gunshot, just like 15 years ago-- my heart seizing up in absolute fear-- and I whipped my head around in horror, seeing that he had a gun in his hand aimed at me.
But no, it wasn’t him who had tried to shoot me 15 years ago. It was his assistant. But this time around... did he shoot, because he recognized me?! No no no no no. Oh god, no.
I had made a fatal mistake.
II.
So he did recognize me. Stupid idiot that I was to follow that dumb bitch of a girl into his house. I had about two hours of sleep every day for the past three weeks because of the nightmares that followed the day I visited his house. Every time, I woke up with tears in my eyes and I was shivering violently. Every single time, I wanted to go punch a wall for it. I wanted to wreak havoc for all the pent up anger and frustration I had bottled up in myself.
This time though, I woke up from my vibrating phone, before I even reached that part of the nightmare where I was entering the warehouse. In a way I felt relieved, until I saw who it was who texted me.
1:17am. BG: Jang Wooyoung. Such a shame we couldn’t have properly met; I had been looking forward to meeting you. I’m inviting you to a dinner today. I expect you to come. With regards, Kim Bong Gu.
I choked on my saliva, feeling anxiety consuming my entire being and I started coughing violently. I was reliving a nightmare again. This couldn’t be happening. To think that I was relieved to wake up before the nightmare went further... Only to find myself waking up to something as worse. I was about to throw my phone across the floor when it buzzed again... should I...? My fingers shook uncontrollably as I clicked open the new text, and felt my heart drop immediately.
1:19am. BG: Apologies, I forgot to mention the time. It will be at 7pm. Arrive punctually; we certainly have a lot to catch up since your last visit... from 15 years ago.
NO! What if I get raped?! I couldn’t... I didn’t know how to... The effects of my phobia were setting in again and I desperately reached for the pills, gasping for air, hot tears streaming down my cheeks. It hurt so badly. I just wanted to die, oh how I wanted to die. Angel of death, please come take me, before this becomes worse than it already is...
* * *
They say you’d get killed by the bullet marked with a wine bottle if you failed to comply with the words of Mr. Kim Bong Gu. I didn’t believe it. Until seven hours later, in the morning, when I opened the door and found a dead man on my front porch. So... much... blood... I spun around and immediately gagged, retching the contents out of my stomach. My hands wrung my face in contorted pain, the agony washing over my whole body as it convulsed. Why?! Why me?! I lamented to myself silently. My knees buckled and I sobbed for hours, remembering that horrific incident, the endless amounts of blood, the pain my lower half of my body had to suffer through. I sobbed until my voice was hoarse and my eyes were red, and no more tears could fall. I sobbed until his haunting eyes and laugh faded away, until everything blackened out and I slumped to the floor out of exhaustion.
It was the worst wait. The fucking waiting, the anxiety, everything. And then came 5:30pm and I found myself so edgy and paranoid that I couldn’t even sit anymore without jumping up and screaming from hallucinating that I saw or felt something. I went to change clothes, to something a bit more formal. I told myself lies. I’m going to meet a very beautiful girl. I’m going to a five-star restaurant and the first thing I’m going to order is ice cream. I’m going to drown myself in that ice cream. It’s going to be vanilla, chocolate, and all fucking flavors to ever exist that I don’t really want to name right now. Actually forget about the girl. I’m just going to eat ice cream. Then I’m going to go to the club and dance. Dance dance dance like it’s my floor, my good life, my everything. God yes. Well yeah, it is my floor. I own my company anyway. I actually found myself smiling for the first time in three weeks. And just as I realized, the reality sunk in and the taunting devilish eyes screeched right through the mirror and clawed at my eyeballs, piercing right through the back of my eyelids. I couldn’t even recognize the screams that escaped my lips as I fell backwards in absolute terror.
I. can’t. live. this. life. anymore.
* * *
I didn’t want to comply. I didn’t want to go. I could feel the panic and fear setting in, prickling up against my insides and churning my stomach in nausea. I had a headache panging across my mind, ringing against my temples with pulsating distress. As much as I didn’t want to see that motherfucker, I also didn’t want to die, or end up on someone else’s porch. (Wow, to think I had a nice enough heart after all the crap I’ve gone through.) Which also meant that, if I went to the dinner, I wasn’t going to get killed... nah, who I was lying to?
I can count myself on getting raped. Check. I can count myself on dying this evening. Check. What a morbid reality. But hey, at least on the bright side, I wasn’t going to suffer insomnia for my entire life. I mean, if I were to have nightmares for the rest of my life, I could do with a little more variety. In the grave.
I found myself crying again. Even when I was a mile away from that bastard’s home, I stopped by the side of the road and put my head against the steering wheel because the tears wouldn’t stop. I felt so pitiful for myself. And there was nothing I could do about it and no one who could care enough about me to even notice if I disappeared. So many hundreds of times that I weeped over this. Even to this day, I couldn’t get over it. I felt so alone and useless and... so then why did I care if I was selling my body over to him? I was already ruined, so what more did I have to live for? Even money couldn’t buy me happiness anymore... Thanks to my phobia, I couldn’t even buy myself girls to fuck with because whenever they tried to touch me I’d--
Hey, is that Ok Taecyeon?
It was him. He was crouching on the ground, seemingly talking to someone on the phone and he was... crying? My own eyes were blurry from my tears, so I rubbed them hard, finding it hard to believe such a sight. Ok Taecyeon, leading businessman in South Korea, crouching on the ground, crying. That was a rather peculiar sight. As much as I hated him, he did look rather vulnerable, and so broken. I slipped out of my car silently, and edged in closer, hiding behind a tree. I could overhear his conversation.
“Yes, I know... It seemed... no, that’s not what happened,” Taecyeon mumbled. He wiped his face a little but the tears kept streaming down his cheeks.
“Chansung, yes, I’m not kidding. I swear, I heard him on the phone. Well, most of it, at least. I overheard the phone conversation, word for word... Yes. He is coming back to South Korea...” Suddenly Taecyeon broke into a grin and laughed softly.
“Chansung-ah, no, I really would wait at the airport all day for him.... So? It doesn’t matter if I don’t know when the flight arrives... Yes, my god, yes, I keep telling you, he is coming! I’m sure of it... Of course I waited my whole life for this! 15 years of endless searching... Ha. Ha. You’re so funny,” Taecyeon deadpanned. But he was still smiling. There was a long silence and suddenly his smile vanished. And then he was shaking his head furiously.
“I’m not sure if he knows... No, I can’t tell him that. I can’t,” Taecyeon murmured. His face was completely drenched in tears now, and they just kept coming.
“Chansung, I can’t! I can’t tell him his mother is dead!” Taecyeon raised his voice. There was more silence again and he wept silently for a long time. Eventually he took a deep breath.
“Alright then... I’ll talk to you tomorrow... Yes I’ll be texting you at the airport... Yes I’ll do that too... Ew no, I will not hug him... Chansung, stop. You can stop now... Okayyyyyy I get it, “ Taecyeon whined. He couldn’t hide his smile anymore and then he started giggling. Whoever this Chansung guy was, he really knew how to make Taecyeon cry and laugh all at once.
“You what?! Are you confessing to me right now?!!” Taecyeon exclaimed. My eyes widened in surprise. Taecyeon was gay?! Suddenly Taecyeon rose up from where he was crouching, flustered and his cheeks in a light blush.
“Oh... I thought I heard you say... nevermind... no... I won’t say it. No. No. I’m not blushing!” Taecyeon cried out, his cheeks deepening in a rosy color. I couldn’t help but snicker. It was so strange to see this side of him. It was almost... endearing to see this other side of him. But no, I still hated him. I hated him because he was the--
Well shit. Taecyeon was looking at me, his eyes were glazed red from his crying, but they were twinkling, like as if he was the happiest guy in the world. And at the same time, they were glaring at me, as if interrogating me for my presence, for reasons as to why I was hiding behind a tree, overhearing his conversation. I felt my heartbeat race, afraid of what might come next. I was deathly afraid of him. There was still a good distance between us, but I could tell he was well-built and muscular, and much much more capable of tearing my limbs apart. Please, I begged silently, don’t hurt me. Don’t hurt me like your--
He lifted his lips as if wanting to say something but then reconsidered at the last minute. And hesitantly, he started approaching me. Instinctively, I started backing away, one, due in part to the fact that he was Ok Taecyeon, and two, just four words: my stupid fucking phobia. I kept stepping away until my back hit the metal railing of a fence that separated this world and hellfire. I could feel the bile churning and clambering its way up my esophagus, climbing through my throat with a sting, and then right into my mouth. I choked on it and swallowed it right back down. Calm, calm, do. not. think. Just calm yourself down, I told myself gently.
Taecyeon grabbed my wrist, and I gasped, flooding panic taking me over and I yelped from the hot pain spidering across my sensitive skin. His touch was not burning, but it was still painful enough for me to flinch away. You goddamn son of a bitch, I trained myself to shake hands with people, yes people like you asses, so touch my freaking hands instead! No need to get up close and personal! I shot him an angry look, but almost couldn’t when my lungs were failing to cooperate with me. I doubled over, wheezing, in need of air.
He bent down and met my face, holding up something that glinted in the last light of the day coming from the horizon. I met his eyes, and he was smirking, biting his lip. And he winked. He stuck the object in between my lips and skipped away. He literally skipped away. God, he was hot. A real hot bastard.
He whooped, swinging his fist in the air. And he shouted. And he laughed hard.
“HE’S FINALLY COMING BACK AND CHANNIE CONFESSED TO ME I THINK I COULD DIE HAPPY FUCK YEAHHHhhhhhhhhhhhh”
And then I heard him trip over something and he cursed, and I was about to laugh, but my tongue brushed up against the object pressed between my lips, and it tasted like tangy metal. I pulled it out. A key... I squinted at it. What the hell? What was this for? Why did he give it me? And where was I going to use it? And most importantly... what did it open?
* * *
I crept inside the dark house... and was incredibly surprised. There was no one; it was completely deserted! In fact, the front door I came through had been left wide open. What was going on? Some of the furniture had been thrown across the floor. There was shattered glass and puddles of liquid everywhere. It smelled like alcohol... I made my way through the dim hallway that I had walked through once before, reaching the end where the intimidating doors were wide open, inviting me into the hell I’ve had nightmares about for most of my life. I tried to seek assurance in the key that was in my palm by clenching it tighter, and with a deep breath, I stepped in, expecting to see that bastard. Again, there was no one.
I let out a sigh of relief, giving myself a moment to calm down my racing heart. I realized I was sweating profusely from the worry and anxiety. I wiped my forehead and took a few more relaxing breaths before scanning the room. The place looked like it had been hit by a tornado. There was scattered paper and shards of glass everywhere, some of the drawers of the cabinets strewn out across the messy floor. That’s when I noticed that some of the other drawers had keyholes, and I looked at the key that Taecyeon had given me.
In the next twenty minutes, I found myself sticking the key into all possible drawers. This dumbass had dozens of drawers with the same-sized keyhole so I went through all of them, jabbing the key through the keyholes and hoping to hear the resounding click. I didn’t even know why I was doing it or what I was looking for. For all I knew, this key could simply unlock a gym locker to a bunch of smelly socks.
But I was persistent and stubborn, and after going through all the drawers around the room, I turned to the main desk. Of course. It had to be there. But as I rounded the corner of the desk to meet the drawers, my face fell. Hundreds of tiny drawers. Goooood, why?! I frowned in exasperation. The longer I was in the house, the likelier chance he would come back. There was buzzing anxiety setting in, warning me, pleading me to leave this horrific place before something more could spiral into chaos. I was lucky to even have made it this far, and now I was just testing my luck. But at the same time, the key was going irritate and bother the curiosity out of me if I couldn’t figure out what it opened. And if I waited to ask Taecyeon, it might be too late by then. Too late for what? I don’t know, I was mulling around and giving myself some justification and reason to stay and keep trying. But if this key definitely opened a drawer here in this desk, it would be a waste to go to Taecyeon, only to find out that I’d have to come back. And when would I ever have an open opportunity like this to come in and unlock the drawer while the bastard wasn’t here? Actually, why did he give it to me in the first place? My eyebrows raised and then I shrugged, methodically working through the drawers swiftly.
After a while, I was becoming terribly impatient and annoyed. I had gone through 47 drawers and there was nothing. I was beginning to believe that perhaps this key didn’t open any of the drawers here and... is this it? My eyes widened in excitement. YES! The key clicked and I was able to twist it all the way. Drawer number 51. What a seemingly random number. I pulled it open and found two small pocket notebooks. One black. One red. I was about to open the black one when I heard something clatter to the ground from outside the hall. Crap. I panicked.
Instinctively, I grabbed the key and the two notebooks, slammed the drawer shut and hurried over to the curtains. I slid the curtains away and the light from the sunset that came through the window blinded my vision momentarily. I swung the window open leapt out, swung it shut again and made a mad dash out of the property.
As I ran, questions spiraled through my head. Where did Taecyeon get the key? What happened in that house? Taecyeon talked about overhearing a phone conversation, was that Bong Gu’s conversation? Why did I need these two notebooks? Why did Taecyeon trust me? And... what the hell is Kim Minjun doing, standing next to my car?
If I said he wasn’t good-looking, I’d be lying. He had his charms, and he was attractive in his own way. Dark hair, tempting tongue slicking up those lips, swimming alluring eyes that saw everything. And those eyes caught sight of the notebooks I had in my hand. He blinked contemplatively, also with a hint of desire, as if wanting those notebooks for himself. But it was in my hands, and more so, his eyes were onto the key that I had in between my thumb and the notebooks. His eyes met mine and he nodded, and walked away, taking his phone in hand and started dialing.
I wouldn’t have cared about what my rival saw or what he was saying on the phone, until I heard a name.
“Chansung?”
I froze. So this Chansung guy had connections with Ok Taecyeon and Kim Minjun, two of the leading businessmen of South Korea. That’s not intimidating at all.
“Is Junho with you?... Could you hand over the phone to him?” Minjun asked gently.
Nevermind. Chansung had connections with three of the leading businessmen of South Korea. I probably would have overhead that whole conversation if Minjun hadn’t turned around and glared at me. I took the hint and shoved myself into the car and drove away as quickly as possible.
III.
The red one for the hundreds of account numbers for banks and all records of deposits and withdrawals. I had Kim Bong Gu’s entire fortune in my hands. Holy fuck.
The black one for the blacklist. Some pages didn’t have names, but had every possible information about the person being targeted. Address, home phone number, email, schools attended, degrees, etc. And some did have names... like mine. And Lee Junho’s.
I’m on a blacklist. I’m going to be killed.
nichkhunt hose scars ate his back like words ate paper
a nd I could only feel guilt because he was suffering and harming himself
e ndlessly, all for my sake, for my safety, for my health, for me-- but I felt like an undeserving
c heater, taking advantage of his loyalty and unconditional love and I could only lament why he
y earned to hurt himself just for me when he should have
e nded it a long time ago, when he should have let me go because there was nothing I could promise in return,
o nly that empty void, but he should have realized that it was only empty if he made it to be,
n ever realizing that there was someone as sweet as bananas to kiss his fears away.
i f only he’d look.
w hen he refocuses, he’ll suddenly realize what
i t really was that kept him alive all those years and that it was
l ove, not his for me, but someone else’s for him, but until then, he’d only fill himself up with
l ies that he was deserving of the punishment that he was drowning himself in.
a boy who had the best smile in the world and eyes of diamonds
l ike a million stars that lit up the sky, I felt sorry that I couldn’t be the one to witness it but
w hat really mattered was the fact that there was a sweetheart who saw it
a nd that the sweetheart could be there for him, especially when I couldn’t be, to
y ell at him, or hug him, or give him comfort that he
s o very much needed, especially when he was broken, heartbroken because of me.
l ove from that sweetheart was all that he ever needed and if
o nly he could stop worrying about me, and let me disperse into the air from his pent up anxieties, then he’d be
v ery surprised with how much he missed, what ethereal frolicking hearts that caressed his
e ars when that sweetheart murmured gentle nothings to soothe out his tears and
y et, I never saw it with my own eyes, I knew it because of the way the sweetheart spoke about him, the way the sweetheart’s eyes
o nly sparkled at his name, and goddamnit, he’d really be a bastard if he kept looking
u p and away, instead of the sweetheart in front of him, who was always lighting up his heart.
* * *
n OPE, I couldn’t handle that
a ffable smile of yours because
m y god, how it quickly bruised my lips in pure
e cstasy and your chocolate gaze only spoke of
l ove that I couldn’t deny because they sucked me in,
e ndlessly fueling fire and
s plitting that divide between want and need,
s lipping in whispering secrets that I thirstily desired
l ike I could write endless kiss notes all over you and
o nly for you, would my words fall
v elvet, sensually against your creamy skin, slicked up with sweat, licked up so wet
e ven til the honeyed dips of your lips blushed rose petals and buttery moans
c ome to me, I invited, and you caressed me with your dulcet coos, your warm friction
a nd feathery touch, so utterly addictive, and when your fingers
l ightly curled around my skin, the touch sparked a buzzing sensation, reveling in the belting thrusts
l ocking tightly against my rolling hips, your moans dripping up against the cavern of my mouth,
s lippery wet with lust, those lips, skirting sugary kiss lines with melting aphrodisia.
f lushing euphoria seeped right through my bones when our hips met, and I gasped, moans mingled, fingers slipped;
o h how I loved that half-lidded chocolate gaze of yours, glittering wet with something more,
r oaming fingers pulling me in again, your luscious lips glazing mine soaking creamy wet, and god, so buttery.
s pilling love, I wanted that sensation to reach your tipping point; and even if I had to wait an
e ternity for you, I would, because I’d be more than willing to leave something inside, something more than the casual
x oxo at the end of this intimate love letter, just for you. Mmm, until then, smile like that, and you’ll make my toes curl out of love.
taecyeonI came back home, exhausted. But this exhaustion was a good kind of tired, the one that I haven’t felt in a long time. For so many years, I had been searching for Nichkhun, and finally, the rejoicing moment had arrived! Dad finally got himself to call Nichkhun, but only after my persistent pestering for about a month. However, I couldn’t overhear the rest of the phone conversation... Someone broke into the house and I made sure to sneak out quietly, without getting caught. I had asked Chansung to disable the cameras and all listening devices anyway, so dad couldn’t catch me if he tried to.
I started thinking about my childhood with Nichkhun and attempted to steer away from all the bad memories... especially the one that occurred the day before Nichkhun was exiled... especially since it that reason that forced Nichkhun out of the country... but no, it was my fault.
I dropped to the floor of my bedroom, and laid down, face planted right into the carpet. I tried to clear my mind out because I realized the darkest memories were starting to creep in and I didn’t want to think about them, or how guilty I felt for giving Nichkhun away like that. It didn’t work. But since I was on the floor anyway, I figured maybe something taxing on the muscles would distract my mind. I started with pushups...
16, 17, 18... I can’t accept those feelings... or at least I don’t think I want to? ... 20, 21... I knew how Chansungie looked at me... and even though he denied it, I knew those subtle messages that he gave when he thought I wasn’t paying attention... 25, 26, 27... Did he really say that he liked me? ...29, 30... No, I must be hallucinatinggggg.... 32, 33, 34... I feel... No, I don’t want to admit it... he definitely meant it as a friend... definitely... 36, 37... Nichkhun’s coming back tomorrow!!... 39, 40... What the hell, I was supposed to be thinking about what I needed to with Nichkhun when he arrives tomorrow... 44, 45, 46.... I think he said he liked me... 48.... Oh my god, I can’t get it out of my head... 48... Wait, didn’t I say 48 that already? Chansung, look what you did!... 50, 51... Oh that’s the same number as drawer... I hope Wooyoung found the red notebook... 54, 55, 56... God, Chansung, I don’t really... 56... 56... 56... Chansung stop distracting me! 57! 58!! 59!!!! 60!!!!!
I collapsed to the ground, panting. I ignored the fluttering emotions that sparked in my chest when I thought about Chansung because something else had come into my mind... Something was wrong. Was there more in that drawer? Whoever broke into the house must’ve been looking for it...
And why did I pass by Kim Minjun while coming back home? Was that by coincidence?
minjunI give up.
Rating: PG-13/ R (caution: language and suggestive scenes/ideas)
Word count: 6,971
Author’s note: sorry darlings i wanted to make it up to you for not writing anything for a really long time; i didn't really feel all that well :c this is really messy and i didn’t want to put in effort and yet at the same time i just wanted to pour out of my feelings. this isn’t really an official chapter but just a bonus/filler thing?? so i might delete it later??? to avoid confusion, this is just random things plucked out for each character and going into more depth (somethings do refer back to events that happened in previous chapters) so it's not a plot-mover but it does reveal/hint at new things. and others, i kinda just ~tease~ because I'm like that :D again, it's messy but even so, try to make the best out of it, yeah? love to all of you<333
(and as always, let me know if there are any errors of any sort, so I can fix it~ oh, and don't forget to comment<333)
7.28.13-7.31.13
spilling- nondescript chapter
chansung I’ve watched him for too long. I’ve watched him from afar, miles away, I’ve watched him from my side, just inches apart. And it grew. Those feelings that started something like a drop in the ocean, and then it became oceans pouring into oceans. Something that flushed me inside and out, something that I couldn’t ever deny. I couldn’t stop myself from gravitating towards him. But more so than anything, I couldn’t stop worrying about him when he came back in the deepest abysses of the night with those wounds. The stark red blood endlessly dripping... I don’t know what dripped more-- his tears or his blood. And sometimes I could coax the words and tears out of him, and sometimes he would just block it off. And how I wanted to help him so much. To break him out of his vulnerable state. To see him laugh and smile genuinely, and not have any anxiety and guilt pull him under to drown himself. I didn’t want to witness anymore of his self-wallowing that forced himself to go back into hiding, to go back to harming himself.
He would put himself in those dangerous situations on purpose. He wouldn’t go out to get a knife or a bullet. No, he wouldn’t do that. He made sure it was by other means, long, slow, and tortuous, with other people hurting him. Other rivals, other murders, sex offenders, anyone, to beat him. He would crouch down and let them attack his back. There was a reason: it was because he had used his back to turn against Nichkhun.
And he would always return broken.
broken that he was
broken as ever
shattered, fragmented, crushed, hurt, sobbing, bloody, more sobbing, “I will never forgive myself”
and I cried for you. I cried that you would stop. How could I ever explain that I was hurt to see you in pain? How it tormented me that you wouldn’t let me help you... I clasped my fingers together with yours, binding them tightly, hoping, that the space that I eliminated between my fingers would somehow manage to remind you, that there is more. There is more to than just pain and blood and guilt. There is me. There is you. There is us.
Taecyeon, if you’re listening right now, I just need you to understand that I’m here. I need you to understand that I will always be here for you. I need you to understand that I would never leave you to suffer alone, and it hurts. It hurts how you close yourself off. Let me help you... don’t continue to hurt yourself, just so you could punish yourself for all those years ago. I wish... I wish I could find a way to soothe your restless heart. I wish I could pull you into my embrace, and carry you to sleep. And watch you wake up the next morning, with glittery eyes that spoke of happiness and delight. I know you won’t stop until you’ve punished yourself to the fullest extent for betraying Nichkhun. But hyung, it was so long ago and even now, he still can’t remember... Please, I beg you. Don’t do this to yourself. I know where you are right now, I know what you want to do. I know what limits you’re going to provoke, and I know what hell you’re trying to break loose.
Taecyeon, what more could it possibly take... isn’t 15 years of endless self-punishment enough? Are you going to hurt yourself until death? And even more after? Until when will you be satisfied with how much you’ve hurt yourself? Don’t you understand, even Nichkhun feels hurt with what you’ve done to yourself... if he knew what the reason was, I don’t know what will happen. Maybe he won’t be able to forgive you either. And this will be selfish, but what about me? When will you take a break, and look at me? When will you return a loving gaze that I’ve always had for you?
Taecyeon, please... I’m begging you. Please stop.
junhoMinjun.
That name has defined my other half for the longest time. And for that longest time, it was the best fragment of my life. The most memorable, the most loving, the most amazing. Minjun, I...
forgive me and don’t
love me and don’t
forget me and don’t
hate me and don’t
Minjun, I’m so sorry. Those are the four words I could only offer to you. Minjun, I’m so sorry. But hell, I’d say it for eternity knowing that I can’t say it enough to earn your forgiveness. I know you’ll never forgive me at this point, for rejecting you, for not caring that you cared for me, for not noticing your love for me, for not appreciating it, for never returning it. For never loving you the way you did to me. No, I did love you. I still love you. I will always love you. I’m not going to give you any more excuses, because you’re right, it’s intolerable. It shouldn’t have been tolerable at all in the first place, and yet you dealt with it, and you still kept me in your arms, and you protected me with kisses that I’ll never forget. Oh god Minjun, what have I done... How did I break us apart? I guess there is no possible way for me to fathom how hurt you were, for you to give your heart away to me. And I’m so utterly sorry. I want to apologize forever, I want you to hear me say sorry at the very least. I want you to hear me say that I love you. And I promise you with all my life, with all my heart, with everything that I hold dearest, that those words will not be filled with emptiness. They are filled with everything I have felt for you, from the day we first met. Just like your “I love you” was for me. And I want to show you like I never did before. I want to restore that connection between us that I have severed because of my mistakes. My own stupid stupid mistakes that I would never forgive myself for.
I can’t live without you. I can’t keep dragging out with my life without your presence by my side. I feel so alone and incomplete. There is no warmth to wake up to, blanketing me with affection. Minjun, when you walked out of that hospital, I drove to the beach and I almost committed suicide. It felt so horrible to think that I had lost you because of my own words, because of my fucking attitude towards you that you never did deserve. I hurt you. I hurt you so much. And I couldn’t forgive myself for that, so I wanted to hurt myself. No, actually it was worse. I wanted to end it quickly. Selfishly, without even thinking how Chansung or you would feel. And then we went back to Chansung’s room, and I locked myself in the bathroom and I cried for hours. And there were scissors in my hand, sterling silver glinting beneath the light. I could see myself, the mess that I had become. I’m the mistake that pulled us apart. I realized that while I saw myself on that blade, and I could have killed myself again. I would have been that bloody dead body in the bathroom who had a fiance whom, I know, would probably never forgive himself.
I thought about how you felt for me. I realized how many missed opportunities I had to thank you. To tell you that I loved you. And I wanted to reevaluate my life so that I’m not sacrificing my love for you over my career anymore. You had always sacrificed your job for me, to make me happy. You had always valued me over your business. And never once did I thank you. I was greedy and only ever wanted more. I’m wrong, hyung. I was so wrong to do that to you. And I don’t want to make you feel that everything is at your fault. It was mine. And mine alone.
I will cry and sob until you come back. I will beg for you on my knees, even though you told me not to. Even though you said those punishing black words that are engraved in my mind:
“Later on, don’t fucking come to me and beg on your knees to say that you were wrong-- “Oh Minjun, I’m so sorry, I actually do love you.” Because I mean, why would I want someone who willingly let themselves become a victim of harassment? And then when I try to help them, they won’t even acknowledge that I love them and I sincerely care about them?”
No Minjun, I will go to you and beg on my knees. I will wrap my hands on your legs and sob out the truth, and how I was mistaken, how I was wrong, and you were right. You were always there for me. And not me for you. How I should wallow in guilt and not you. Minjun, I do love you. I’ve always loved you. I’m forever yours but more so than anything, I’m forever sorry. I’ll plead for your forgiveness that I probably don’t even deserve, but for my own selfishness, for you, for us as an entity, I will do it. I have to do it. Because, I miss you. How I miss those lips that curved into a lavishing smirk. Those eyes with loving warmth that never dissipated for me. Your caressing touches, our long intimate nights together, how our hips met, how our lips crashed, how we touched each other’s hearts.
I miss that about you. I miss your voice, your whispers, your teasing. I miss the way you called me “jagiya.” Come back, Minjun. Please forgive me. I need you. Everything happened at the spur of the moment, I’m sure you could understand that too. Can’t you? Won’t you? Will you?
I l o v e y o u t o o m u c h.
Come back to me, jagiya. I miss you so much.
wooyoungA gunshot rang in the air and Wooyoung spun his head around, shrieking in horror. The man had his gun pointing at him. Why is it aimed at me?!! Wooyoung yelped to himself.
But he kept running as fast as his jelly legs could take him. He could feel the red blanket tied around his waist starting to loosen from his neck-breaking pace, so he clung to it, trying to hold it up the best he could. And he kept glancing back, the sight of the boy on the ground with the growing pool of blood fading away from his sight. All he could feel was fear and guilt and pain. Suddenly, darkness started creeping in, spiders crawling out from nowhere, engulfing his limbs and he screamed and screamed and screamed and there was nothing that he could do as he felt himself disintegrate--
That other half of the dream. This was the half that I rarely ever dreamed about, because it was always the sexual assault that came back and replayed over and over. It was never this. I always woke up before this part of the dream. But today it was different.
I had met him.
I.
We were inside that cold dark house. I had a heightened sense of awareness, darting my eyes back and forth, capturing all the details off the walls. I noted the hidden cameras and subtle listening devices. This was a few months after I met Ji Eun and realized that she was the little girl from that incident. I hated her guts. I wanted to shove the sex offender’s dick right down her throat. She deserved it. If it wasn’t for her, I wouldn’t have been this maimed crippled tormented piece of shit. I blinked sadly, realizing how depressing my life had become. As if I wasn’t learning this for the billionth time during my torturous 15 years of degrading self-esteem, every time I came to that realization, it just hit me harder than the last.
Why do I “tolerate” her? Call it revenge. No, call it justification. I had so many plans to bring her down to her knees. I wanted to stomp her life out, and watch her choke for mercy. I wanted her to live in shame as I had done for 15 years. Ji Eun, who was in front, turned around and gave me a glance. “Go fuck yourself over,” I mouthed. Her eyes crumpled up with a hurtful expression, but I wasn’t going to be fooled by her acting. She was as guilty as the next dead person writhing under the wrath of my own hands.
I was trailing her by six feet, because any closer would trigger my phobia, even with her back facing towards me. Just following her lead alone made me tensed up and anxious, and I could feel my lungs tightening in. I tried to tell myself to relax but no matter how persistent I was to myself and how many times I pinched myself to redirect the pain, I could not relax at all. The atmosphere of this house was not helping either. And again, did I realize too late, that I was listening to her words, following her fatally stupid instructions. And again, I was in a trapped nightmare. But this time there would be no hero to save me in his red cape. None at all. This time I probably wasn’t going to leave without getting raped... or maybe I wasn’t going to leave at all.
I pulled out my phone because I was becoming all the more anxious about this place. I wanted to leave. No, I needed to leave so desperately.
8:02pm. WY: Tell me why the fuck we’re here again?
Ji Eun shot a look at me, but I ignored her.
8:02pm. JE: Oppa, do you have to use that language?
8:02pm. WY: WHY. ARE. WE. HERE.
8:03pm. JE: Mr. Kim Bong Gu invited us for tea.
8:03pm. WY: Fuck you.
I despised that name so much. Ji Eun reached the end of the dim hall first and paused at intimidating looking doors. She looked at me with pained eyes, but I could care less. Heck, I’d love to see her eyes get torn out.
She pushed on the handle of the door and it swung wide open. I was still about five feet away from the entrance when I saw the dark silhouette and everything inside of me stopped working. All the springs broke loose and I felt panic rush in. No, I couldn’t deal with it today, who was I lying to? I couldn’t ever deal with this issue for my entirety of a shitty life that I would have to live. There was no way in hell I could ever stand in the existence of the monster who destroyed my life. I spun around and started running, running, running, like as if it was 15 years ago, and fuck! I heard a gunshot, just like 15 years ago-- my heart seizing up in absolute fear-- and I whipped my head around in horror, seeing that he had a gun in his hand aimed at me.
But no, it wasn’t him who had tried to shoot me 15 years ago. It was his assistant. But this time around... did he shoot, because he recognized me?! No no no no no. Oh god, no.
I had made a fatal mistake.
II.
So he did recognize me. Stupid idiot that I was to follow that dumb bitch of a girl into his house. I had about two hours of sleep every day for the past three weeks because of the nightmares that followed the day I visited his house. Every time, I woke up with tears in my eyes and I was shivering violently. Every single time, I wanted to go punch a wall for it. I wanted to wreak havoc for all the pent up anger and frustration I had bottled up in myself.
This time though, I woke up from my vibrating phone, before I even reached that part of the nightmare where I was entering the warehouse. In a way I felt relieved, until I saw who it was who texted me.
1:17am. BG: Jang Wooyoung. Such a shame we couldn’t have properly met; I had been looking forward to meeting you. I’m inviting you to a dinner today. I expect you to come. With regards, Kim Bong Gu.
I choked on my saliva, feeling anxiety consuming my entire being and I started coughing violently. I was reliving a nightmare again. This couldn’t be happening. To think that I was relieved to wake up before the nightmare went further... Only to find myself waking up to something as worse. I was about to throw my phone across the floor when it buzzed again... should I...? My fingers shook uncontrollably as I clicked open the new text, and felt my heart drop immediately.
1:19am. BG: Apologies, I forgot to mention the time. It will be at 7pm. Arrive punctually; we certainly have a lot to catch up since your last visit... from 15 years ago.
NO! What if I get raped?! I couldn’t... I didn’t know how to... The effects of my phobia were setting in again and I desperately reached for the pills, gasping for air, hot tears streaming down my cheeks. It hurt so badly. I just wanted to die, oh how I wanted to die. Angel of death, please come take me, before this becomes worse than it already is...
* * *
They say you’d get killed by the bullet marked with a wine bottle if you failed to comply with the words of Mr. Kim Bong Gu. I didn’t believe it. Until seven hours later, in the morning, when I opened the door and found a dead man on my front porch. So... much... blood... I spun around and immediately gagged, retching the contents out of my stomach. My hands wrung my face in contorted pain, the agony washing over my whole body as it convulsed. Why?! Why me?! I lamented to myself silently. My knees buckled and I sobbed for hours, remembering that horrific incident, the endless amounts of blood, the pain my lower half of my body had to suffer through. I sobbed until my voice was hoarse and my eyes were red, and no more tears could fall. I sobbed until his haunting eyes and laugh faded away, until everything blackened out and I slumped to the floor out of exhaustion.
It was the worst wait. The fucking waiting, the anxiety, everything. And then came 5:30pm and I found myself so edgy and paranoid that I couldn’t even sit anymore without jumping up and screaming from hallucinating that I saw or felt something. I went to change clothes, to something a bit more formal. I told myself lies. I’m going to meet a very beautiful girl. I’m going to a five-star restaurant and the first thing I’m going to order is ice cream. I’m going to drown myself in that ice cream. It’s going to be vanilla, chocolate, and all fucking flavors to ever exist that I don’t really want to name right now. Actually forget about the girl. I’m just going to eat ice cream. Then I’m going to go to the club and dance. Dance dance dance like it’s my floor, my good life, my everything. God yes. Well yeah, it is my floor. I own my company anyway. I actually found myself smiling for the first time in three weeks. And just as I realized, the reality sunk in and the taunting devilish eyes screeched right through the mirror and clawed at my eyeballs, piercing right through the back of my eyelids. I couldn’t even recognize the screams that escaped my lips as I fell backwards in absolute terror.
I. can’t. live. this. life. anymore.
* * *
I didn’t want to comply. I didn’t want to go. I could feel the panic and fear setting in, prickling up against my insides and churning my stomach in nausea. I had a headache panging across my mind, ringing against my temples with pulsating distress. As much as I didn’t want to see that motherfucker, I also didn’t want to die, or end up on someone else’s porch. (Wow, to think I had a nice enough heart after all the crap I’ve gone through.) Which also meant that, if I went to the dinner, I wasn’t going to get killed... nah, who I was lying to?
I can count myself on getting raped. Check. I can count myself on dying this evening. Check. What a morbid reality. But hey, at least on the bright side, I wasn’t going to suffer insomnia for my entire life. I mean, if I were to have nightmares for the rest of my life, I could do with a little more variety. In the grave.
I found myself crying again. Even when I was a mile away from that bastard’s home, I stopped by the side of the road and put my head against the steering wheel because the tears wouldn’t stop. I felt so pitiful for myself. And there was nothing I could do about it and no one who could care enough about me to even notice if I disappeared. So many hundreds of times that I weeped over this. Even to this day, I couldn’t get over it. I felt so alone and useless and... so then why did I care if I was selling my body over to him? I was already ruined, so what more did I have to live for? Even money couldn’t buy me happiness anymore... Thanks to my phobia, I couldn’t even buy myself girls to fuck with because whenever they tried to touch me I’d--
Hey, is that Ok Taecyeon?
It was him. He was crouching on the ground, seemingly talking to someone on the phone and he was... crying? My own eyes were blurry from my tears, so I rubbed them hard, finding it hard to believe such a sight. Ok Taecyeon, leading businessman in South Korea, crouching on the ground, crying. That was a rather peculiar sight. As much as I hated him, he did look rather vulnerable, and so broken. I slipped out of my car silently, and edged in closer, hiding behind a tree. I could overhear his conversation.
“Yes, I know... It seemed... no, that’s not what happened,” Taecyeon mumbled. He wiped his face a little but the tears kept streaming down his cheeks.
“Chansung, yes, I’m not kidding. I swear, I heard him on the phone. Well, most of it, at least. I overheard the phone conversation, word for word... Yes. He is coming back to South Korea...” Suddenly Taecyeon broke into a grin and laughed softly.
“Chansung-ah, no, I really would wait at the airport all day for him.... So? It doesn’t matter if I don’t know when the flight arrives... Yes, my god, yes, I keep telling you, he is coming! I’m sure of it... Of course I waited my whole life for this! 15 years of endless searching... Ha. Ha. You’re so funny,” Taecyeon deadpanned. But he was still smiling. There was a long silence and suddenly his smile vanished. And then he was shaking his head furiously.
“I’m not sure if he knows... No, I can’t tell him that. I can’t,” Taecyeon murmured. His face was completely drenched in tears now, and they just kept coming.
“Chansung, I can’t! I can’t tell him his mother is dead!” Taecyeon raised his voice. There was more silence again and he wept silently for a long time. Eventually he took a deep breath.
“Alright then... I’ll talk to you tomorrow... Yes I’ll be texting you at the airport... Yes I’ll do that too... Ew no, I will not hug him... Chansung, stop. You can stop now... Okayyyyyy I get it, “ Taecyeon whined. He couldn’t hide his smile anymore and then he started giggling. Whoever this Chansung guy was, he really knew how to make Taecyeon cry and laugh all at once.
“You what?! Are you confessing to me right now?!!” Taecyeon exclaimed. My eyes widened in surprise. Taecyeon was gay?! Suddenly Taecyeon rose up from where he was crouching, flustered and his cheeks in a light blush.
“Oh... I thought I heard you say... nevermind... no... I won’t say it. No. No. I’m not blushing!” Taecyeon cried out, his cheeks deepening in a rosy color. I couldn’t help but snicker. It was so strange to see this side of him. It was almost... endearing to see this other side of him. But no, I still hated him. I hated him because he was the--
Well shit. Taecyeon was looking at me, his eyes were glazed red from his crying, but they were twinkling, like as if he was the happiest guy in the world. And at the same time, they were glaring at me, as if interrogating me for my presence, for reasons as to why I was hiding behind a tree, overhearing his conversation. I felt my heartbeat race, afraid of what might come next. I was deathly afraid of him. There was still a good distance between us, but I could tell he was well-built and muscular, and much much more capable of tearing my limbs apart. Please, I begged silently, don’t hurt me. Don’t hurt me like your--
He lifted his lips as if wanting to say something but then reconsidered at the last minute. And hesitantly, he started approaching me. Instinctively, I started backing away, one, due in part to the fact that he was Ok Taecyeon, and two, just four words: my stupid fucking phobia. I kept stepping away until my back hit the metal railing of a fence that separated this world and hellfire. I could feel the bile churning and clambering its way up my esophagus, climbing through my throat with a sting, and then right into my mouth. I choked on it and swallowed it right back down. Calm, calm, do. not. think. Just calm yourself down, I told myself gently.
Taecyeon grabbed my wrist, and I gasped, flooding panic taking me over and I yelped from the hot pain spidering across my sensitive skin. His touch was not burning, but it was still painful enough for me to flinch away. You goddamn son of a bitch, I trained myself to shake hands with people, yes people like you asses, so touch my freaking hands instead! No need to get up close and personal! I shot him an angry look, but almost couldn’t when my lungs were failing to cooperate with me. I doubled over, wheezing, in need of air.
He bent down and met my face, holding up something that glinted in the last light of the day coming from the horizon. I met his eyes, and he was smirking, biting his lip. And he winked. He stuck the object in between my lips and skipped away. He literally skipped away. God, he was hot. A real hot bastard.
He whooped, swinging his fist in the air. And he shouted. And he laughed hard.
“HE’S FINALLY COMING BACK AND CHANNIE CONFESSED TO ME I THINK I COULD DIE HAPPY FUCK YEAHHHhhhhhhhhhhhh”
And then I heard him trip over something and he cursed, and I was about to laugh, but my tongue brushed up against the object pressed between my lips, and it tasted like tangy metal. I pulled it out. A key... I squinted at it. What the hell? What was this for? Why did he give it me? And where was I going to use it? And most importantly... what did it open?
* * *
I crept inside the dark house... and was incredibly surprised. There was no one; it was completely deserted! In fact, the front door I came through had been left wide open. What was going on? Some of the furniture had been thrown across the floor. There was shattered glass and puddles of liquid everywhere. It smelled like alcohol... I made my way through the dim hallway that I had walked through once before, reaching the end where the intimidating doors were wide open, inviting me into the hell I’ve had nightmares about for most of my life. I tried to seek assurance in the key that was in my palm by clenching it tighter, and with a deep breath, I stepped in, expecting to see that bastard. Again, there was no one.
I let out a sigh of relief, giving myself a moment to calm down my racing heart. I realized I was sweating profusely from the worry and anxiety. I wiped my forehead and took a few more relaxing breaths before scanning the room. The place looked like it had been hit by a tornado. There was scattered paper and shards of glass everywhere, some of the drawers of the cabinets strewn out across the messy floor. That’s when I noticed that some of the other drawers had keyholes, and I looked at the key that Taecyeon had given me.
In the next twenty minutes, I found myself sticking the key into all possible drawers. This dumbass had dozens of drawers with the same-sized keyhole so I went through all of them, jabbing the key through the keyholes and hoping to hear the resounding click. I didn’t even know why I was doing it or what I was looking for. For all I knew, this key could simply unlock a gym locker to a bunch of smelly socks.
But I was persistent and stubborn, and after going through all the drawers around the room, I turned to the main desk. Of course. It had to be there. But as I rounded the corner of the desk to meet the drawers, my face fell. Hundreds of tiny drawers. Goooood, why?! I frowned in exasperation. The longer I was in the house, the likelier chance he would come back. There was buzzing anxiety setting in, warning me, pleading me to leave this horrific place before something more could spiral into chaos. I was lucky to even have made it this far, and now I was just testing my luck. But at the same time, the key was going irritate and bother the curiosity out of me if I couldn’t figure out what it opened. And if I waited to ask Taecyeon, it might be too late by then. Too late for what? I don’t know, I was mulling around and giving myself some justification and reason to stay and keep trying. But if this key definitely opened a drawer here in this desk, it would be a waste to go to Taecyeon, only to find out that I’d have to come back. And when would I ever have an open opportunity like this to come in and unlock the drawer while the bastard wasn’t here? Actually, why did he give it to me in the first place? My eyebrows raised and then I shrugged, methodically working through the drawers swiftly.
After a while, I was becoming terribly impatient and annoyed. I had gone through 47 drawers and there was nothing. I was beginning to believe that perhaps this key didn’t open any of the drawers here and... is this it? My eyes widened in excitement. YES! The key clicked and I was able to twist it all the way. Drawer number 51. What a seemingly random number. I pulled it open and found two small pocket notebooks. One black. One red. I was about to open the black one when I heard something clatter to the ground from outside the hall. Crap. I panicked.
Instinctively, I grabbed the key and the two notebooks, slammed the drawer shut and hurried over to the curtains. I slid the curtains away and the light from the sunset that came through the window blinded my vision momentarily. I swung the window open leapt out, swung it shut again and made a mad dash out of the property.
As I ran, questions spiraled through my head. Where did Taecyeon get the key? What happened in that house? Taecyeon talked about overhearing a phone conversation, was that Bong Gu’s conversation? Why did I need these two notebooks? Why did Taecyeon trust me? And... what the hell is Kim Minjun doing, standing next to my car?
If I said he wasn’t good-looking, I’d be lying. He had his charms, and he was attractive in his own way. Dark hair, tempting tongue slicking up those lips, swimming alluring eyes that saw everything. And those eyes caught sight of the notebooks I had in my hand. He blinked contemplatively, also with a hint of desire, as if wanting those notebooks for himself. But it was in my hands, and more so, his eyes were onto the key that I had in between my thumb and the notebooks. His eyes met mine and he nodded, and walked away, taking his phone in hand and started dialing.
I wouldn’t have cared about what my rival saw or what he was saying on the phone, until I heard a name.
“Chansung?”
I froze. So this Chansung guy had connections with Ok Taecyeon and Kim Minjun, two of the leading businessmen of South Korea. That’s not intimidating at all.
“Is Junho with you?... Could you hand over the phone to him?” Minjun asked gently.
Nevermind. Chansung had connections with three of the leading businessmen of South Korea. I probably would have overhead that whole conversation if Minjun hadn’t turned around and glared at me. I took the hint and shoved myself into the car and drove away as quickly as possible.
III.
The red one for the hundreds of account numbers for banks and all records of deposits and withdrawals. I had Kim Bong Gu’s entire fortune in my hands. Holy fuck.
The black one for the blacklist. Some pages didn’t have names, but had every possible information about the person being targeted. Address, home phone number, email, schools attended, degrees, etc. And some did have names... like mine. And Lee Junho’s.
I’m on a blacklist. I’m going to be killed.
nichkhunt hose scars ate his back like words ate paper
a nd I could only feel guilt because he was suffering and harming himself
e ndlessly, all for my sake, for my safety, for my health, for me-- but I felt like an undeserving
c heater, taking advantage of his loyalty and unconditional love and I could only lament why he
y earned to hurt himself just for me when he should have
e nded it a long time ago, when he should have let me go because there was nothing I could promise in return,
o nly that empty void, but he should have realized that it was only empty if he made it to be,
n ever realizing that there was someone as sweet as bananas to kiss his fears away.
i f only he’d look.
w hen he refocuses, he’ll suddenly realize what
i t really was that kept him alive all those years and that it was
l ove, not his for me, but someone else’s for him, but until then, he’d only fill himself up with
l ies that he was deserving of the punishment that he was drowning himself in.
a boy who had the best smile in the world and eyes of diamonds
l ike a million stars that lit up the sky, I felt sorry that I couldn’t be the one to witness it but
w hat really mattered was the fact that there was a sweetheart who saw it
a nd that the sweetheart could be there for him, especially when I couldn’t be, to
y ell at him, or hug him, or give him comfort that he
s o very much needed, especially when he was broken, heartbroken because of me.
l ove from that sweetheart was all that he ever needed and if
o nly he could stop worrying about me, and let me disperse into the air from his pent up anxieties, then he’d be
v ery surprised with how much he missed, what ethereal frolicking hearts that caressed his
e ars when that sweetheart murmured gentle nothings to soothe out his tears and
y et, I never saw it with my own eyes, I knew it because of the way the sweetheart spoke about him, the way the sweetheart’s eyes
o nly sparkled at his name, and goddamnit, he’d really be a bastard if he kept looking
u p and away, instead of the sweetheart in front of him, who was always lighting up his heart.
* * *
n OPE, I couldn’t handle that
a ffable smile of yours because
m y god, how it quickly bruised my lips in pure
e cstasy and your chocolate gaze only spoke of
l ove that I couldn’t deny because they sucked me in,
e ndlessly fueling fire and
s plitting that divide between want and need,
s lipping in whispering secrets that I thirstily desired
l ike I could write endless kiss notes all over you and
o nly for you, would my words fall
v elvet, sensually against your creamy skin, slicked up with sweat, licked up so wet
e ven til the honeyed dips of your lips blushed rose petals and buttery moans
c ome to me, I invited, and you caressed me with your dulcet coos, your warm friction
a nd feathery touch, so utterly addictive, and when your fingers
l ightly curled around my skin, the touch sparked a buzzing sensation, reveling in the belting thrusts
l ocking tightly against my rolling hips, your moans dripping up against the cavern of my mouth,
s lippery wet with lust, those lips, skirting sugary kiss lines with melting aphrodisia.
f lushing euphoria seeped right through my bones when our hips met, and I gasped, moans mingled, fingers slipped;
o h how I loved that half-lidded chocolate gaze of yours, glittering wet with something more,
r oaming fingers pulling me in again, your luscious lips glazing mine soaking creamy wet, and god, so buttery.
s pilling love, I wanted that sensation to reach your tipping point; and even if I had to wait an
e ternity for you, I would, because I’d be more than willing to leave something inside, something more than the casual
x oxo at the end of this intimate love letter, just for you. Mmm, until then, smile like that, and you’ll make my toes curl out of love.
taecyeonI came back home, exhausted. But this exhaustion was a good kind of tired, the one that I haven’t felt in a long time. For so many years, I had been searching for Nichkhun, and finally, the rejoicing moment had arrived! Dad finally got himself to call Nichkhun, but only after my persistent pestering for about a month. However, I couldn’t overhear the rest of the phone conversation... Someone broke into the house and I made sure to sneak out quietly, without getting caught. I had asked Chansung to disable the cameras and all listening devices anyway, so dad couldn’t catch me if he tried to.
I started thinking about my childhood with Nichkhun and attempted to steer away from all the bad memories... especially the one that occurred the day before Nichkhun was exiled... especially since it that reason that forced Nichkhun out of the country... but no, it was my fault.
I dropped to the floor of my bedroom, and laid down, face planted right into the carpet. I tried to clear my mind out because I realized the darkest memories were starting to creep in and I didn’t want to think about them, or how guilty I felt for giving Nichkhun away like that. It didn’t work. But since I was on the floor anyway, I figured maybe something taxing on the muscles would distract my mind. I started with pushups...
16, 17, 18... I can’t accept those feelings... or at least I don’t think I want to? ... 20, 21... I knew how Chansungie looked at me... and even though he denied it, I knew those subtle messages that he gave when he thought I wasn’t paying attention... 25, 26, 27... Did he really say that he liked me? ...29, 30... No, I must be hallucinatinggggg.... 32, 33, 34... I feel... No, I don’t want to admit it... he definitely meant it as a friend... definitely... 36, 37... Nichkhun’s coming back tomorrow!!... 39, 40... What the hell, I was supposed to be thinking about what I needed to with Nichkhun when he arrives tomorrow... 44, 45, 46.... I think he said he liked me... 48.... Oh my god, I can’t get it out of my head... 48... Wait, didn’t I say 48 that already? Chansung, look what you did!... 50, 51... Oh that’s the same number as drawer... I hope Wooyoung found the red notebook... 54, 55, 56... God, Chansung, I don’t really... 56... 56... 56... Chansung stop distracting me! 57! 58!! 59!!!! 60!!!!!
I collapsed to the ground, panting. I ignored the fluttering emotions that sparked in my chest when I thought about Chansung because something else had come into my mind... Something was wrong. Was there more in that drawer? Whoever broke into the house must’ve been looking for it...
And why did I pass by Kim Minjun while coming back home? Was that by coincidence?
minjunI give up.