6k

Naeun smashes a knife on an apple, breaking it into a messy two.

“You did not kick him out just because you two are constantly aroused, Soojung, that’s rude.”

“Oh, don’t be a hypocrite, Naeun. You asked my aunt if my cousin is a milkman’s daughter just because she looks different than everyone.” Soojung rambles on the other line.

“I was eleven!”

“Still, I know you long before that, you’re not one to talk about manner.”

Naeun groans, stabbing the apple, adding more to the messy pieces. “But really, do you have to kick him out?”

“I – we ­– are not kicking him out. It’s a courtesy because he’s a and too pure to be around for our, you know, activities. He can sleep better, he can move around without being cautious about catching us and—“

“Like I’m not too?”

“Naeun, come on. It’s just for this semester, please. He looked happy when he packed just now. If you don’t want him around too, you’re crushing his hope for a better sleep at night.”

“Ugh. At least give me a week notice or something.”

“Well, we just decided this last night and . . . “ Soojung trails off, seemingly distracted with something and when Naeun hears a lazy grunt, a sloppy kiss sound, Naeun rolls her eyes. Soojung and Sehun are this couple that everyone yells “get a room!” to everytime they are together in public because they both have two pairs of wild hands and two practically jointed lips. So Soojung kind of took the advice seriously by moving out to Sehun’s apartment and now they decided to throw his housemate for Naeun to babysit under this impression that he and Naeun can relate with each other.

“ off, Jung.”

“I’m really sorry, babe. I’ll make it up to you.” She giggles and Naeun knows it has nothing to do with their conversation. “Don’t worry. You’re going to like him. He’s cute and he has a nice chin. Laters!” And she hangs up.

Nice chin, huh.

Naeun stares at the space before her. It’s not as girly as girls’ apartment simply because she and Soojung share the same pretty gothic taste. But still, it is supposed to be female’s space and she’s not looking forward to share it with a guy and has to give up walking around .

She is about to pop a damaged piece of apple into when she hears the doorbell. Groaning, she pops the apple in anyway as she walks to the door. Seriously, what’s with the very last minute notice?

“H-Hello.” The said new housemate bows right away as soon as Naeun pulls open the door.

And when he looks up, Naeun stares at everything. Stares and forgot to chew.

Glasses.

Un-styled cinnamon hair almost bowl cut.

Glasses.

Knitted sweater with horrible color combination.

Freaking glasses.

“My name is Kim Jongin. I believe you’ve been told that I am—was—Sehun’s housemate. I’m . . . a sophomore . . . and—“

Naeun chews and he stops talking, starting to look uncomfortable by adjusting his glasses and avoiding eye contacts. Most probably because she’s wearing a camisole with short shorts, or most probably because that’s typically how nerds function around people. Awkward as hell.

But nice chin. Anyway.

“Come in.” She offers because nice chin and stands aside to allow him in. He drags his suitcase along and two steps in, he already looks lost.

Naeun closes the door and turns her heel to the right, to her room, ready to run. She’s really not in the mood to get chummy with a stranger today all because of the damn late notice.

“The room is on your left. Make yourself at home, figure out yourself.” For a nerd, that’s not going to be a problem right? “Nice chin, by the way,” she says before closing her door behind her.

He has a nice chin and that’s ing all.

She texts Soojung and she’s aware that she would disturb some process but to hell she cares. She plops into her bed, staring at her ceiling. How? How on earth Sehun befriends a nerd? How does that work? Sehun is the kind of guy who ed anything that moved (pre-Soojung) so for him to have a naïve-looking bestfriend like Jongin is kind of off.

What she expected was someone like Sehun. Not Sehun. (Ew.) Someone like him. She hates to admit it but Sehun is kind of hot so she expected his housemate is at least not far out of the league

U’re not staring nuch

The typo alerts her that she was disturbing a process. She likes it that she was.

Few days under the same roof, it’s as if Naeun is still by herself. Jongin is barely home. Even if he does, he minds his own business. So Naeun thinks it really isn’t that bad. Maybe that’s the perks of living with the nerd?

If he’s someone like Sehun but not Sehun, she would have to be fully clothed for a while until possible hook-up.

With someone like Jongin, since there would be no possible hook-up (no offense) so she bares it all.

She walks in. Jongin is home but his door is closed and she could hear a faint music (it’s Narnia’s theme song) comes out from it.

She peels off all the annoying clothing, leaving her camisole and her on, and drops to the couch.

She grins. This is why it really isn’t that bad.

(“Please tell me you at least have your bra on.”

Naeun stares at Soojung’s horrified face. And then she gathers the tip of her hair and stares at it.

“Naeun!”)

Cheese.

Naeun wakes up to the smell of cheese. Heavy and creamy. She kicks the duvet off and sits blankly on the side of her bed. Cheese reminds her of her mother. That woman grates cheese on everything, she swears to God.

“You want me to grate some on your rice?” She asked one time.

“Mom.”

“Oh, I forgot. It’s dairy.”

“Dairy or not, we don’t grate cheese on rice.”

“We do. I made you baked rice. You loved it.”

“We’re talking plain rice, Mrs. Son.”

She shrugged and continued humming to a song, and grated cheese – lots of it – on her rice.

“Mom.”

Cheese also reminds her that she should go back home next weekend. Not because of cheese, but it’s been almost a month she hasn’t check on her mother. She needs someone to tell her not to grate cheese on rice. Twice. Daily.

She puts on her bra (because Jongin is just that pure nobody with sin should breathe the same air as him) before re-tucking on her shirt. She walks out. Once she’s out, there’s a loud clanking sound. And then her eyes meet Jongin’s eyes behind his glasses. He stands there like a statue.

“What?” She asks, walking to the kitchen. “You don’t happen to forget you live with a girl now, do you?” She smiles. Like real smile because she wants to have some of – her eyes wander to the kitchen counter – sandwiches he made.

“Um. I remember. But – “ He bends to pick the spatula on the floor. “You—“ He turns back to the stove and Naeun puts a sandwich into her plate (there’s two on the table so that goes without invite), “You forgot your pants.”

The sandwich pauses mid-air, and then she glances down to her bared legs. She rolls her eyes and starts to eat. It tastes amazing – like bakeries sandwich. Jongin must be a God - if God wears glasses.

“No one wears pants when they’re home. You shouldn’t too.” His spatula drops again. “This is amazing, Jong.”

He doesn’t turn. “Y-you also forgot the In. Jongin.”

She ignores him. “What are you cooking? Eat with me.”

“Omelet. You want?” He asks, with a very quick glance as he’s in the middle of flipping it.

“Sure.”

“With cheese?”

Naeun scoffs. She almost says “Jong.”

“Sure.” She clears her plate and she’s already full. She almost cancels her omelet but Jongin is done whisking the egg. This dude is quick.

“Do you have class today?” She asks.

“At two.” He pours the egg into the raging hot pan. He doesn’t wince. Naeun always run away after she throws things. So, for that millisecond, he looks very cool. “You?”

“At eleven.”

He turns, facing her. His hair is in disheveled array. Kind of like hair, but no way. “It’s after ten now. You’re going to be late.”

Typical nerd. “That class usually don’t start after half an hour. Chill.”

“What class is that?”

Naeun downs her glass and then shrugs. Honestly, she doesn’t know the full name – she always refers to classes by the professors. “That class.”

He stares at her for a moment before he smiles, like real smile, like realer than her smile – since he doesn’t seem to have ulterior motive behind it. It goes wider dramatically, from fuller to thinner lips (with teeth).

Naeun looks away, down to her bared legs. Maybe she should wear shorts instead of briefs.

He returns with her omelet, taking his seat at the same time. Naeun stares at her plate. There’s a lot of cheese.

“Jong.”

He has a nice smile.

Or nice lips.

Or nice teeth idk.

u’re stil not staring nuch

M.U.C.H!  God!

Weeks passed with brief kitchen talks. That’s all. Because all nerds were busy, apparently.

The other day, she caught him walking out from the bathroom. Wet and half . He didn’t wear his glasses but he didn’t look up to her so she couldn’t talk to him or see what’s behind the glasses. And she was about to stare down to his torso but he was faster to lock himself behind his door.

It was kind of frustrating to her because she needed to update something because Soojung was being annoying about how she didn’t stare much with an n.

“I’ll cook tonight.” She offers as she stands to clear her plate. (She wears shorts now, by the way.)

“I won’t be home though.”

Naeun blinks, looking at him over her shoulder. “Oh?”

“I’ll stay at the library. Mock exam is coming and my shift is until late so I figure out I better use the pass.”

“You’re a librarian?” It surprised her at how surprised she sounded. Of course he’s a librarian. He’s a nerd, library is in their package.

He runs his hand through his hair, briefly showing his forehead before his bang falls loose. Naeun stares. Stares and the mug almost slip off from her grip.

“Yes. Since first year.” He gathers his things – a bag, a bottle of water, a book with a military man on the cover and a bagel – and he walks to the door. “See you tomorrow.” And he’s gone.

Naeun stares at the closed door.

I think I like his forehead more than his chin now.

dats like his whole face

Half. Just half face. A quarter up and a quarter down. Half.

(Btw, he’s a librarian.)

K

(duh)

(Maybe i should ask him to read for me)

(n u’re probably going to like his throat neck)

(:3)

(*next)

(but neck is apt too)

“Gay.” Soojung declares offhandedly as they both eye a guy who’s walking down the hallway.

Naeun keeps her eyes on him as he walks past them. He looks very normal – not hot, just average. “How do you even know he’s gay?”

“He didn’t glance at us.”

Logic.

“Maybe he’s taken.”

“No. My gaydar insists.” She raises a finger, pointing to every male around them. “Beep. Beep. Beep.” And then lands on the guy. “Beeeeppppp.”

Very logic.

Naeun laughs before linking her arm by Soojung’s elbow.

“You know it’s been twenty nine days? Twenty nine days! Six hundred and ninety-six -free hours!”

“Wow. You keep a dedicated track. Do you jot down the tally somewhere or keep a note by your bed post?”

“Don’t make fun of me, I could totally be cranky at this point.”

Soojung is smart enough not to laugh. “You should never cut your contact with Myungsoo.”

Naeun sighs. “He’s just a fling and the period is over so. And I don’t love him so it’s pointless to stay too long.”

“Well, I know. You never love anyone.”

“Eh, I do. I love you. I love my parents. I love my sister. Heck, I even love that old woman I only saw once in my lifetime who gave away banana muffins in front of our middle school before Christmas break. Bless her. That muffin was mean like I don’t even like banana-flavored thing.”

“Banana muffin actually tastes like banana. Banana-flavored thing, on the other hand, doesn’t taste like banana at all. Don’t you think? It tastes very artificial.”

“Yeah, I guess. But Jung, I don’t want to talk about banana. I’m -deprived. We’re in public, I’m scared if anyone can read mind around here.“

“God, you’re so sad.”

“Shut up. Or else, I’m going to drag you back to our apartment so we can both abstain. That would be fair.”

“Okay okay.” Soojung rearranges her face and flips her hair to the back. It looks so much redder now that they are under the sun. “Anyway, I love you too but I mean a guy. You never love a guy.”

That’s the thing. For twenty one years, Naeun never had a real boyfriend, someone she actually loved. It’s not that she doesn’t know the default concept of love. She recognizes that feeling. She fell in love before – her first love (one-sided) – and she was just seven. She knew it was love because only when she was seventeen, that she realized there’s other boys around. When she started to realize, that’s when she knew she’s over it.

She went out regularly with many boys  after, but she never stuck with one.

“I did love a guy. My first love, remember?”

“That’s a toddler, not a guy.”

“Seven year old is not a ing toddler! Anyway. I know. But it’s hard to score a fling better than Myungsoo. He’s perfect but yeah, that’s it.” She pauses, nodding her head trying to reconfirm herself. “That’s just it right? If you think there’s more to this, please lie to me.”

“Yeah, that’s just it. You didn’t mourn when it’s done.”

“I did mourn.” Soojung stops walking, her face demanding explanation. Naeun is ahead by a step before she stops walking too. “I left my favorite at his place. The red satin one.”

Soojung rolls her eyes and she falls back into step with her. “That’s very careless, Naeun.”

“I know. What if he happened to be a hoarder? And my pair of is now in the same pile with the other cotton ?”

“Do you expect him to frame your then?”

“I would frame it, too. I just love it that much and now someone who doesn’t even wear it got to keep it, damn it.”

“Maybe he tried it on, you never know.”

“Ewwww.”

“Some people have on satin , Naeun. When it’s on the guy.”

“Seriously?” Soojung nods smugly. Naeun starts to shiver. “Why do I have a feeling you’re talking about your ?”

Soojung shrugs. “It’s cute when their –”

“Okay no no no, SHHH! If you continue, I’m considering therapy.”

Soojung bursts out laughing. When it dies down, she asks, “Anyway, are you itchy?”

Naeun grunts. “Hell yes. It’s been six hundred ninety-six hours and—“ She frowns at her watch, “No, I don’t think I could count the minute, I’m going to be depress.”

“Let’s go out tonight. Maybe you could find someone to scratch it.”

“Amen.”

Soojung copies her, doing the cross sign too. Before she completes it though, she pauses, “Hey, you don’t amen to stuff like that.”

“We’re probably already in God’s list anyway.”

Long story short : another evening gone, another failed scoring.

Not exactly a failed scoring, but she just . . . couldn’t. As though she listed all the other guys too.

She needs a connection and a guy who knows how to bring himself out there. The guy she met tonight got it all good, visually outstanding and she was almost swooned. But then he had to ruin it by opening his mouth. He asked her if she’s interested in foursome, after a very brief intro. Seriously? She’s a lot of things, but she would never give a chance to a , let alone foursome.

On the first meeting, one needs to be calculating but free at the same time and also knows when to stop talking. It’s really not that hard. Myungsoo did it fabulously. He had been charming, intelligent, and easygoing.

But the only thing that they were missing was a connection. Their relationship had been all physical but when they stared at each other, she was hoping for a shiver, the rush feeling of something . . . of more. Instead, she got zilch. Numb. Nothing sparked. Just dull.

Myungsoo was the best she managed to score, nevertheless. He set the bar too high and to get someone else to top that would be hard.

Although, admittedly, it started to get lonelier each day. Through past experiences, no fun or little intimacy between studies could make her a cranky girl. At this point, she’s in her way to become a goddamn psychopath.

She really needs to get laid.

When she gets home, Jongin is at the couch, reading. When he sees her, he stands up with his blanket, wrapping it around her. The blanket is warm and it smells masculine – which to be frank, doesn’t really screams Jongin. Not that she denies his masculinity cells, but he seems to be just that.

(She and Soojung always say ‘that’ to things that don’t really need explanation or if there isn’t any word in their range of vocabulary to describe it. For example, “how’s your holiday?” and the reply would be, “that”. Whether it’s good-that or bad-that is depending on their expression.)

(Jongin is okay-that.)

“You didn’t go out?” She asks, tempted to strip off from her dress but summoned up by her lace thong.

“No.”

She follows him to the couch, and wraps the blanket around her tighter before she takes the long couch.

At least she has a company to last the night. Although it isn’t physical – which she prefers better.

He continues reading, doesn’t seem to be bothered by her presence. It’s like her presence doesn’t affect him at all.

This is new. Maybe Jongin listed her. She raises up her pointy finger to him. "Beeepppp." She chuckles to herself.

He looks up at her, his glasses hanging on the bridge of his nose.  “Are you drunk?”

“No. Just tipsy.” She lies on the couch and stares into the distance. The moon is awesome that night. Maybe that’s why Jongin sits at the couch instead of his room. She shifts to her side to glance at Jongin. His lips move when he read. She stares and forgot to blink.

Very nice lips. Plump enough and at some words, his lips puckered a bit. The kind of puckered when you ask for a kiss.

“What are you reading?”

He points on one part before looking up. “It’s a story of . . . um, a guy who . . .” –his lips puckered at this – “ran away from a war and started a new identity but he had to always run because if he’s caught, it would be fatal.”

Naeun nods. Although to be frank, she couldn’t hear him well after who. She nearly lets the alcohol takes over and asks, “can you say who again?” but having a good tolerance, she’s still in full control of herself. “Read for me?”

“Sorry?”

“Read for me. Read it out loud.”

“Like a bedtime story?”

Naeun smiles. Bedtime story maybe could soothe her -deprived. “Yeah. If I fell asleep, please don’t bother. Just read for me.”

He hesitates for a moment, before he clears his throat and starts reading. “A pencil line of greeny grey that . . . Wait. Do you want me to read from the start or . . .?”

“Just read Jong. I don’t give a damn what it’s about. Just read.”

“Um. Okay. A pencil line of greeny grey that, at first, seemed no more than a continuation of a horizon. At night, she said . . .”

No more puckered-lips. Naeun sighs before looking away.

After short moment, his voice starts to fade into the background as Naeun stares at the moon, remembering.

When she was little, she had nightmares everytime there’s a thunderstorm. She would run from the room to find her parents. And then his father would read her stories until she fell back to sleep.

That happened continually for years, even when she’s way too old to be spoiled like that. His father only read for her, maybe only two times a year now but it secretly had become her habit that she didn’t want to admit.

She likes it when people read for her. She doesn’t always listen but the voice is there, accompanying her.

Soojung read for her sometimes, monotonously, and her materials were usually gay fanfictions. It never helped her to sleep and instead they would end up fangirling together. Naeun mentally reminds herself to tell Soojung tomorrow that she can stay at Sehun’s place forever if she wants to.

“ . . . ‘When I think of the mainland, I think of them now.’ ‘When we came,’ Bryher said, ‘the first few months . . .”

Jongin continues reading and he unconsciously starts using different voice for every character, even mimicking a woman’s voice.

It’s adorable, especially when he puckered his lips.

She ends up staring at his lips until she falls asleep that night.

I dreamt about my dad. And he has Jong’s lips.

Is dat a nightmare or—

No.

In fact I think my dad looks better with that lips.

…

u need therapy

:)

“Why I never saw you with Jong?” Naeun asks Sehun as they sit together for lunch. “No, why I never saw Jong before?”

“You have a nickname for him?”

“That’s not a nickname, that’s one third of his name. Answer my questions.”

“Well,” Sehun sips on his coke. “He’s busy. I’m busy.” He leers at Soojung at the innuendo and then they smirk suggestively at each other. Naeun is really considering therapy at that point. “So, yeah.”

“You really can’t talk properly, are you?”

“At least he doesn’t spew nonsense like your potential one night stand last night.” Soojung barks.

Naeun grimaces. “Oh, don’t remind me of him. Anyway, we should ask him to join us for lunch.”

“That guy?”

“I mean Jong, my god.” Jong, my God –her quick mind notices this. “If he eats alone, I’m going to cry.”

“Uuuu . . . someone is caring.”

“He reads better than you. I care for people who can read. And he’s a great cook too.”

Soojung rolls her eyes and Sehun chuckles a bit before he says, “Jongin prefers his own company. He pretty much lives at the library, eat there, sleep there. If you want to eat with him, go there. But we’re not on board. I mean, library . . .” He trails off with his face scrunched, as though library is some dirty restaurants with rat reputation.

“You’re trying to get rid of me, right? Like you guys did to him.” When they smirk, Naeun shakes her head. “You guys .”

“Do you know that guy?” Naeun asks as they are both staring down from the balcony one evening. How did they end up here together? Well, Jongin said he’s craving for some egg tarts and Naeun said they could smell bakeries from here. They couldn’t. But Jongin stopped craving because he laughed too hard, so she thought she didn’t come out as total loser.

Jongin follows the line of her pointy finger. “Who?”

She snaps her head at him quickly. “What?”

“Who?”

From the side-profile, his puckering is even cuter. Naeun unconsciously her lips as she lets her eyes trail a little above his lips, cataloguing his philtrum (it looks sculptured), his nose and stops at the bridge of his glasses.

If only she could throw away the ugly glasses from the balcony . . .

She clears his throat. “That guy with the red shirt. The one who talks on the phone. He lives across from us. We reported him last year because he tried to snap pictures of Soojung.”

Jongin stares back at her. Naeun waits for him to cast his eyes down her body and judge her revealing clothes. But he doesn’t. He grimaces, his nose scrunched cutely. “That’s sick.”

It stuns her for a while that he didn’t say it was because she and Soojung led the creep by walking around , like the damn policemen said.

More cool points for him.

Also, come to think of it, Jongin could be an epitome of a gentleman. He never really checked her out to the point of goosebumps. Naeun is not even sure if he ever looked below her eyes. (Except, maybe that first time he saw her pantless.)

She smiles. “I know.”

Do you know his nose is a little flat?

(like mine)

naeun, I know how he (and u) looks like

And then she starts to check him out. Nearly to the point of goosebump. (According to Soojung.)

He really does have a nice neck!

i’m not going 2 ask u to stare at anything anymore

I’m standing next to him and I’m around his chin!

yes dats v important for me 2 know

He has mole behind his ear should I tell him?

Naeun stop!

wat do u want him 2 do with that information!

“I swear on my Gucci and Chanel” –huffs—“ if you give me his detail one more time”—huffs—“I’m going to block you.” Soojung rants as she runs on the treadmill.

Naeun giggles beside her. If Soojung doesn’t blackmail her while she’s out of breath at the same time, maybe she would take her seriously.

Soojung smashes the intensity button and settles with a slower run. “You don’t just giggle! Now whenever I see him, I end up staring at his philtrum, his fingernails, his earlobes . . .”—huffs—“ I felt like I’m cheating on Sehun.”

Naeun giggles some more until a sweaty towel lands on her face.

Thirty-two days. No intimacy, no kisses, no in seven hundred and sixty-eight hours!

She’d passed the cranky phase, so now when she turns into a psychopath, it should be understandable. To those who can’t consider that, can her if she ever grows one.

If she manages to grow one, Soojung would be the first in the line.

He has nice like wtf why does he has to have a nice !

His skin when he’s under the sun, it looks like honey under the sun…

#metryingtobepoetic

Jung.

His ankles omg!

Heyy

Reply me!

Omg you can’t be serious damn it!

Naeun goes absolutely out of character by visiting the library a week later. (But she blames Soojung and Sehun for that. They went MIA, and when she’s searching for them, she somehow found herself in front of the library.) (Please trust her.)

She also somehow found Jongin’s hand. (He’s standing and leaning at the back of an aisle and reading a book.) She knows it’s his hand because . . . well, yeah. It’s normal, okay? It’s like Harry Styles. She knows someone is Harry Styles by the very tip of his fingernail alone. It’s normal for a fangirl.

Except in this case, she’s not a fangirl of Jongin.

She pauses at the front of the aisle.

Okay. Yeah. Maybe that’s not normal. A lot. Almost like harassment, considering she’s not a fan, and he’s her housemate. Like, even if this is a gender-reversed situation, it’s still creepy as . She imagines herself staring at Soojung and memorizing every curve of her body and get excited over it.

Shivering, she hastily turns her heels, praying she could make an escape without being noticed but to her dismay, Jongin calls her at her fifth step.

“Naeun?”

She straightened, panic for a short second before a realization comes to her. Her back is on him. And he knows it’s her. Does she feel harassed? No.

She feels better right away. She turns to him and smiles, almost too flirty.

“I knew it’s you. Your blonde hair is a huge give away.”

Her smile falls. Okay, he really never looks below her eyes. She somehow feels insulted to that. If he doesn’t notice her ant waist and her , that would be too bad.

“What are you doing here? We’re still far away from final exam.”

More insult.

She huffs and pouts, crossing her arms below her chest, resembling a two year-old refuses to move until she gets her way.

“I was looking for Soojung and Sehun.” She’s not lying, alright? “Maybe they settled for a quickie in the library.” She looks around. That sounds like something the two would totally do.

She glances back at Jongin and her heart drops a little. She just talked foul to him. But to her surprise, Jongin’s cheeks turns pink. (She doesn’t know it could happen to boys.) It makes her wondering that if he understands the reference, Jongin is probably not that naïve.

At that thought, her libido rushes back to her. She curses mentally. It must be the -deprivation that caused her turn-on right now. Obviously. She can’t be lusting over a nerd who never looks below her eyes. She might be lusting over nice chin, but it can’t be Jongin’s. It’s sinful.

“Damn it.” She mutters under her breath.

Jongin stares at her confusedly. The color of his face turns back to normal, but the way he tilts his head right now is still as kawaii.

“Sorry. Um. Well. I gotta go.”

He smiles as he nods. That dramatic fuller lips to thinner lips (with teeth) kind of smile.

Naeun can feel herself drooling, for a reason she couldn’t quite name. She walks away so fast she’s practically running.

One night after dinner, they are sitting on the couch, side by side, her legs crossed by the ankles and Jongin’s crossed by the knees.

She managed to get him to read for her.

“When he returned to his sleigh, there I was in a basket with a note that said . . . Um. How do I read this?“ He shows her the page and there’s a line of Chinese characters.

“I don’t know.”

He shrugs, “Wo ye bu zhi dao,” he deadpans and Naeun snickers, “which means, please take care of my daughter. Santa didn’t know what to do. Every time he put me down . . . ”

As his voice fades, the rain outside sounds harsher. Naeun leans closer onto him, linking her arm into his elbow. A tingle of warmth spread out from the contact, it feels that. Nice-that.

She leans her head on his shoulder. “Please let me. I’m scared of thunderstorm.”

He falters. She can feel the bop of his neck against the crown of her head when he swallows. Naeun swallows too. His shoulder is magnificent, broad and strong, like they are made to lean on.

He flips to next page and continues reading. But Naeun couldn’t hear anything. The rain sounds too harsh and the proximity feels too good to move her focus away from. She hugs his arm tighter and she’s very aware of their points of contact. Head on shoulder, thigh to thigh, his arm in hers - fitted perfectly, in the valley of her .

And that’s when the thunder strikes. As though God is trying to reprimand her.

She flinchs and shrink, burying her face onto his shoulder.

“Are you okay?” He asks.

She nods quickly. Her nose brushes against the fabric of his sweater when she does. She can’t help but to sniff his scent. He smells masculine – like his blanket.

He clears his throat. “My cheeks . . . “ He pauses. “My cheeks burned hot.” Naeun blinks. She’s about to take a peek to his cheeks when he continues, “I used to tell stories. For attention. Like the time I told everyone I got lost in a blizzard . . . “ She chuckles. He is still reading. She burrows her face into his shoulder and sniffs again, trying to figure out his scent. “. . . and Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer came and rescued me. But I don’t tell stories anymore. Aren’t people allowed to change?”

“Aren’t people allowed to change?” She repeats, for no actual reason.

Jongin turns his head slightly to her, and throws her that dramatic smile of his. “They do.”

Their eyes lock for seconds too long. Naeun waits for him to look away but he doesn’t. They are so close. Her eyes are levelled with his lips. This is the closest she could stare at his lips and they look even more perfect from this distance. So close and inviting. She can feel herself drooling again.

He clears his throat and then returns back to the book. Naeun doesn’t have anything to look away to so her eyes remain at his lips.

He chuckles. It’s harder for her to look away now. He looks . . . charming, chuckling like that. How come she never notices? How could she catalogue all his good features before and only notices how charming he is now?

“I clear my throat before I can stop myself.” He reads again, and that’s apparently the reason for the chuckle. Naeun couldn’t care less. She couldn’t stop staring at him – at those lips specifically. “They whirl around in one motion, as if it were choreographed. Elinor has the grace to look ashamed. She’s worried I’ll tell Santa. I won’t. I’m not a little baby tattletale anymore. I can handle myself.”

She, on the other hand, is otherwise. She couldn’t handle herself anymore. She wants . . .

She wants that lips.

Now.

On hers.

“My heart pumps so hard in my chest,”

Yes.

“I worry that everyone can hear it.”

Same.

“So I speak loudly.“

“Kiss me.”

He stops reading. Two seconds later, the book drops to his lap.

Naeun can’t react other than wanting. She has too many feelings to sort out now before she can react anyway. She had been hungry. And she had never expected to feel hungry about Jongin – or rather, some parts of Jongin’s. Her mind and her body are not ruled by lust. Well, yeah, they are but she knows not to push on something she couldn’t have—Jongin, for the closest example.

But now, she decides just wants that lips once and probably after that she will tune back into her right system. Probably.

His chest heaves, his eyes are dark and unreadable (must be the glasses), and his lips parted.

As if drawn to him, Naeun leans forward. The closer they are, the buzz of the electricity intensified. No zilch. It’s like firework on the New Year.

She stops before their noses touch. She flickers her eyes to him, silently asking for permission. He doesn’t meet her eyes; instead he’s staring down at her lips. He looks below her eyes! Her stomach flutters to that and she becomes hungrier. Kiss me, please kiss me. She silently begs.

To that, God is mad again, striking another thunder and before she could even flinch, without expectation, his mouth crashes on hers.

For few seconds, they don’t move. Until she can breathe, until she can feel his hot breath against her face, that’s when she’s settling into action.

This is it, she wants this.

She cups his face and presses her lips further onto his. He opens his mouth, and she dives deeper.

This is it.

His lips feel as perfect as they look, firm and smooth. And he tastes—Jesus—delicious to the point she almost breaks the kiss just to curse. She runs her tongue against his upper lips, and it’s like awakening the tiger. He starts to move along, bringing his arm around her waist, angling his head and dipping just right.

This is it.

Perfect.

This feels perfect.

a/n :

When I wrote this, I began to realize that I actually ship Kryseun more than Kaieun. lol

Because I don't think I will ever write yuri, so I'll slip Kryseun in every chance I get.

This is Jongin's so-called dramatic smile. (It's actually not dramatic, I just like to exaggerate.)

source

The first book he reads is Martyn Bedford's The Island of Lost Souls.

The second is My True Love Gave to Me : Twelve Holiday Stories. It's the fourth story, Polaris is Where You'll Find Me by Jenny Han.

Thanks for readinggg.

I would really appreciate comments. :)