Jongin

He crouched down, then stood up impatiently. Crouched. Stood up. Crouched. Stood up. Ruffled his hair in utter frustration, then turned to the direction of her balcony, squinting at the dark room behind the glass door. He couldn’t make out her shape from the distance of his balcony, but wondered if she was sleeping soundly or writhing on the covers like the last four times he had witnessed.

He sighed, remembering those nights and wondering if she actually dreamt those nightmares—she told him about—during those times when he actually found her writhing in her sleep and crying, yet she didn’t stir from.

Remembering the first time, he was reminded how he had woken up at dawn, unaware of why. He just did. And for some reason he had that nagging feeling inside him, bidding him to go to her. Again it was just a feeling, perhaps a random one. But he didn’t think twice to jump to her balcony and check on her. It was odd for him to come at that hour, but he was worried. And he figured when he saw what state she was in, his feelings were justified. So if she even stirred while he was there he would have a valid reason to distract her with and he won’t even shed a sweat and get jitters.

He approached her slowly, cautious that he wouldn’t make a sound—afraid that would stir her awake to surprise. Then, he sat down beside her, her head facing him. He saw the frown on her face, the furious way her eyebrows furrowed in her sleep, the way sweat trickled from her forehead, and the way she gripped tightly on the sheets. Aye, she looked so afraid.

“Soo.” He called, trying to stir her awake. But the lines on her forehead just deepened.

He called her name again, placing his hand on her shoulder, but she didn’t stir—as if she couldn’t hear or feel his touch on her skin. Jongin’s worry deepened. At this, his panic had risen. Her tears fell from her eyes, cascading slowly to her nose then down to her cheek that was warm and rosy. The tears created a pool on the sheets, a small wet circle. His hands trembled as he reached to wipe on her eyes.

Why is she crying?, he thought. Was her dream that bad that she cried? He wondered this as he cradled her head in his arms, bunching his hand over hers to ease it from the sheets. She visibly relaxed, this time, as he touched her. The creases on her forehead lessened and the tears slowly seemed to cease. Relief washed on his face as he observed this. Unconsciously, he let his back rest against the headboard and let Soori snuggle to him. The lass was like a little girl now craving for warmth. She scooted closer and closer until her weight almost occupied his chest. Ah, he found the situation so ironic.

How come when she was asleep, she had sought for his warmth willingly? It was the last thought in his mind before he fell asleep that day.

He woke up the next day before she might even catch him next to her, and pretended like he was innocent of the crime when he noticed her looking at him intently. For days he tried to distance himself a little from her just to cover for what he did. He felt guilty enough that he thought lying in front of her wasn’t even an option. And when she finally asked him about it, he had struggled not to stammer as he said the most ridiculous lie of the century—okay, maybe that’s just an exaggeration.

The next three visits were yet based on gut feel and worry. He had worried almost every day for her that it was a huge struggle to keep himself locked up in his room. Aye, he had convinced that three more times were not going to hurt. Maybe it really didn’t; in fact staying with her relaxed him, especially when he noticed her sleeping soundly in his presence. Three more; and then he promised not to sneak in her room again.

Jongin forced himself out of his memory as he felt the steely cold object in his hand, He looked down wide-eyed when he noticed he was about to breach his promise to himself as he held the glass door handle. An alarm automatically went off in his head. No, four was enough, he thought in opposition to a part of him that was actually urging him to just throw the door open and watch her for a while. Four times. Just four times. He was inwardly chanting those words as he slowly and guiltily pushed the door open. Ah, so the fifth time wouldn’t be a bad thing, he concluded, relief washing over him as he entered.

The air in Soori’s room felt icy cold that he immediately searched for her in the pool of blankets bunched up on her bed, worried she had moved from under them. But he searched and searched, under the covers, on fours even under her bed, yet when he stood up again, she was not really there. The bed was empty. Her bath was empty too. She wasn’t under her study desk either. Or behind the door. No, she wasn’t playing hide and seek with him. She was missing.

Another alarm went off in his head, and he burst out of her door, and absently ran down the stairs, not minding whether he was waking someone else up. And when he finally saw her, he had a sigh of relief and at the same time irritation crossed his face as he found her sleeping next to Yixing, her head placed on his shoulder. Yixing was dozing off as well, his head perched on top of hers. Jongin tightened his fists on his sides as he strode towards them. He was struggling to keep a straight face now that no one could see him, but he might as well admit to himself that yes…Kim Jongin was damn jealous.

His feet halted in front of them, and his looming figure casted a dark shadow over them as he looked down, trying to think of what to do. He let the silence linger before he cleared his throat, three times he did, but not one of them woke up. Damn, he felt more frustrated now than ever.

Yixing always had his way on her, he thought. And even though things changed and years had passed it seemed to him that Soori still fancied Yixing like she did before. She always had a soft spot for the lad. That he couldn’t help but observe him now.

Yixing looked quite wasted, but seemed properly cleaned, he thought. Soori must have taken care of him before this, he guess and nodded to himself, convinced of his own theory. Then Kim Jongin focused on his face, squinted as he mentally compared his features to Yixing’s. He admitted he was not that good looking but…he believed—confidently enough—that Yixing’s look wasn’t Soori’s taste either. And then his eyes trailed towards the latter’s shoulders—ah, they were broad but Yixing was lean or maybe too thin. Soori liked broad shoulders and a little meat, he thought. He slowly let his gaze follow the length of Yixing’s arm…it was perched behind the couch and wrapped around…Soori’s shoulder. The third alarm went off in his head when he saw this.

Absently, he pulled Soori away from Yixing’s hold. Her head sagged lightly on his middle and he secured a hand behind her to keep her still against him.

Yixing’s head met the backrest of the couch, and he stirred as he felt the different feel against his cheek. He smiled when he noticed the shuffling in front of him. It was obvious that someone had been there for some time. And he grinned when he opened an eye and saw Jongin looking around and not knowing what to do as he had Soori in his hold.

“Perhaps you want to sit down?” Yixing asked, thinking it was a good joke to play on Jongin right when it was obvious he didn’t want to be caught doing something like he was doing now.

Jongin stiffened upon hearing his voice. His head calculatedly tilted down to meet the latter’s smug eyes that were on him. He quickly averted his gaze. Too quick that Yixing found the courage to laugh at him. Jongin pressed his lips into a thin line, aware that the thug was making fun of him.

“Don’t.” He said warningly, his eyebrows frowning.

Yixing struggled to stop laughter from coming out of him, and before he even stopped, he had rolled on the couch for a good amount that Jongin was already piqued. “Sorry about that. Here, how about you and your best friend actually sit next to me?” He motioned on the empty space next to him, but his intention was teasing and meaningful.

Jongin could just simply tell what was on his mind, yet he still pretended that sitting down next to him and placing Soori’s head on his shoulder was nothing. It was nothing. Duh. It was another lie though.

"Are you...okay now?" Jongin started, tapping his feet anxiously on the carpeted floor.