Key’s POV

                I smiled as the sun brightened the leaves around me. I climbed higher, determined to make it as far up the tree as I could possibly go. I turned around when I heard my father’s car turn into the driveway. He was home early today.

                I scrambled back down the tree, my wishes of climbing to the top momentarily forgotten. I was so eager to greet my father that I didn’t realize the somber atmosphere cloaking the room. I hugged him tightly and stepped back in surprise when he didn’t hug me back. His eyes were tight with worry and anger, and my mother fiddled with her apron anxiously.

                “Umma… Appa… Is something wrong?”

                My father closed his eyes for a brief moment and pulled me into a quick hug.

                “No, son. You have nothing to worry about. Okay?”

                I nodded hesitantly and ran up the stairs to my room, worried for my parents. There was obviously something that they weren’t telling me.

                I’m thirteen years old. I’m sure I can handle whatever it is.

                I jumped as the front door slammed and I heard my father start his car up again. I ran to the window and watched him speed down the road, completely baffled. Why was he leaving again? I headed downstairs and stopped short when I saw my mother. She was sitting at the table with her head in her hands. Her tears fell like rain on the wooden tabletop.

                That night was the first time I ever saw my father drunk. His loud, stomping footsteps woke me up at 2:00 in the morning, and I ran to the stairs to see what was wrong. He was belligerent, yelling and cursing and slamming his fists into the walls. I took several hesitant steps backward, curling my shaking fingers into fists. What was wrong with him?

                My mother walked up beside him at the bottom of the stairs and placed a hand on his shoulder. I saw his body immediately tense up, and he flung his arm out in rage, slapping her across the face and causing her to fall to the floor. I instinctively flew down the stairs and wrapped my arms around my mother. My father glared at me with bloodshot eyes. The entire entranceway reeked of alcohol.

                “Get up!” He shouted, taking a threatening step toward me. “This isn’t any of your business, boy!”

                I glared back at him defiantly and stood up, causing him to stumble backward in surprise.

                “No one touches my mother like that,” I said forcefully.

                His eyebrows lowered in rage. He stalked toward me and slapped me across the face, causing tears to spring to my eyes. My father had never struck me before. Never.

                I resisted the urge to slap him back and helped my mother back to her room. When I returned, my father was gone, and a quick glance out the front window told me that he had taken the car to some unknown location.

                The next day, my mother told me that my father had been fired. My father was never able to handle stress well, and the news sent him over the edge. He had gone to the bar for a drink, just one drink. But then one drink became two, and two became four, until he eventually lost count and stumbled into the busy night. It was a wonder he made it home alive.

                My father found refuge in alcohol. It was his safe haven, his cure-all. He began to drown his troubles in glass after glass of vodka and beer, leaving the house drenched in the repulsive smell. When his behavior became too much for my mother to take, she decided to join him.

                I walked through the front door and took off my shoes. I had gotten an A on my math test, and I knew my mother would be proud of me for it. I ran into the kitchen with the paper clutched in my hand.

                “Umma, look what I-”

                I stopped short at the sight before me. My parents were both passed out at the kitchen table, with empty glasses standing like sentinels in front of them. My hands shook and my math test fluttered to the floor. Tears streamed down my face as I realized that my parents were lost to me forever. Alcohol had stolen them from me, and I would never get them back.

                I slowly opened my eyes. I was warm and comfortable, and the ceiling tiles above me were a bright white. I narrowed my eyes in confusion.

                Am I dead?

                I had always thought that heaven would be more tastefully decorated.

                Maybe I’m in hell. I shuddered at the thought of spending eternity surrounded by clashing color schemes and cheap, knock-off shoes.

                I bet the devil doesn’t even know the difference between Prada and Gucci. What a sad existence.

                I glanced around the room and sighed in relief. It was a hospital, not hell. Well, it came pretty close to hell considering the beige leather chairs and gaudy blue end tables. Blue and beige were so last summer.

                I yawned and rubbed my eyes in fatigue.

                “Oh, you’re awake. How are you feeling?”

                I glanced around wildly, searching for the source of the voice. My eyes finally fell on Jonghyun. He was standing by the window, and the blazing light from the setting sun caused his yellow hair to glow. He looked back at me with concern etched into his features.

                “I’m fine,” I said. My voice was weak and raspy. I cleared my throat loudly. “What happened, though? We were at Taemin’s…and…”  

                Jonghyun glanced down at the smooth white tile and ran a hand through his hair. “You had a cut on your arm…and…it wouldn’t stop bleeding.” His voice caught. “You…you passed out in Taemin’s kitchen…”

                My fingers instinctively went to the gash on my arm. The image of my father with a blood-stained piece of glass clutched in his fist flashed through my mind. My fingers curled into a fist.

                “Yah,” Jonghyun said softly, walking over and touching my hand lightly. “Are you okay?”

                I nodded and pulled my hand away. A sigh escaped from me as I thought about how awful my hair must look.

                Jonghyun bit his lip in worry and glanced around. He seemed confused, like he wasn’t quite sure where he should go or what he should do. He settled for sitting in the armchair next to my bed.

                “Where’s Taemin?” I asked, genuinely worried. His sweet and innocent nature probably caused him to be sick with concern.

                “He went downstairs to get some food,” Jonghyun replied, leaning back in his chair. He was looking out the window again, and I got the odd feeling that he was trying to avoid my gaze.

                “How long have we been here? Is Taemin okay?”

                “He’s fine,” Jonghyun said with a laugh. “Don’t worry about him. We’re all worried for you. And we’ve only been here for about an hour. He just eats a lot…”

                I sat up and desperately tried to fix my hair. “I need a mirror,” I said, pouting. “I’m sure my hair looks absolutely atrocious right now.”

                Jonghyun laughed softly again. “It looks fine.” He watched as I ran my fingers through it frantically. “Oh, wait. No. You just messed it up…”

                I froze as Jonghyun leaned over and gently fixed my hair. I glanced over at him and smirked as his eyes widened. He drew his hand back quickly and fiddled with the zipper on his coat.

                “Sorry…” he muttered quietly, staring at his shoes.

                “Look,” I said with a grin, striking my best pose. “If you want to touch me, all you have to do is ask. I’ll warn you now, though: it’s highly competitive. Everybody wants a piece of this perfection.” I gestured to myself with a flourish and winked at him.

                “W-what?” Jonghyun stammered. I saw a faint blush color his cheeks as he laughed and averted his eyes. “Sure, Key. Sure. I’ll remember that.” He rolled his eyes. “Do you know that you’re the most conceited person I’ve ever met in my life?”

                “Yep,” I replied with a smile. “And I’m loving every minute of it.”

                Jonghyun laughed again and shook his head. He glanced up as the door opened and a gray-haired doctor strode in. I grimaced at the awful orange color of his tie.

                After thoroughly checking the stitches in my arm, he declared that I was free to leave. I sighed in relief and hopped out of the bed, staggering slightly as my feet hit the floor. Jonghyun grabbed my hand to steady me, but released it quickly once I regained my balance. We quickly left the room and headed for the elevator.

                As the doors opened, I saw Taemin sitting at a small table in the cafeteria. His head was bent over his sandwich and he seemed lost in thought.

                “Minnie!” I called, waving and running toward him. Jonghyun caught my wrist and pulled me back.

                “Don’t run like that,” he commanded. “You’re not healed yet. You’re supposed to be relaxing.”

                “You’re not my mother,” I retorted, sticking my tongue out at him. I pulled my arm away and ran to Taemin, who looked up at me with worried eyes.

                “Hyung, are you okay?” He asked quietly. I nodded and laughed as a smile broke out across his face. I staggered back in surprise as he stood up and hugged me tightly. I ruffled his hair and hugged him back, happy because he was happy.

                We walked out of the front doors and into the evening light. A bitter wind whipped around us and I was painfully reminded of the fact that my silver jacket was still at Taemin’s. I wrapped my arms around myself for warmth.

                “Here,” Jonghyun said, slipping his coat off and handing it to me. “Put this on.”

                I pushed it away. “No, I don’t want you to be cold, either.”

                “Just take it,” he said with a sigh, shoving it into my hands. He walked away before I could hand it back. I made a face and slipped my arms into the sleeves, grateful for the instant warmth it provided.

                “I think Jonghyun hyung likes you,” Taemin said, watching his retreating back with a smile.

                I shrugged. “Most people do.”

                Taemin and I climbed into the backseat of the car while Jonghyun drove. Taemin’s parents were, fortunately, still at work, so there would be nobody around to ask questions.

                “Key hyung,” Taemin said, worry lacing his tone. “Do you want us to come back to your house with you so we can explain to your parents what happened? I bet they’re pretty worried…”

                Panic shot through my veins at the thought of Taemin and Jonghyun meeting my parents. “No, no,” I replied quickly, shaking my head. “I’ll explain it to them. They’ll understand.”

                “How did you get that cut, anyway?” Jonghyun asked from the driver’s seat. His hands were clenched too tightly around the steering wheel.

                I fumbled for an explanation. “Well… I was going down the stairs at home and… I tripped. And…um…there was a broken glass at the bottom of the staircase because my mom is really clumsy…and she dropped it and had gone to get a broom so she could clean it up. So when I landed at the bottom, a piece of the glass cut my arm open…”

                “Why didn’t you tell your mother about it? She would have taken you to the hospital,” Jonghyun said forcefully.

                “Aish, it’s not really your business, is it?” I exclaimed, running a hand through my hair.

                Jonghyun’s knuckles were white against the steering wheel, but he didn’t say anything more.

                When we reached Taemin’s house, I ran inside and grabbed my jacket. Our half-completed project sat on the carpet, casting eerie shadows along the walls.

                Taemin hugged me tightly before I left.

                “Have a good night, hyung,” he said softly.

                I hugged him for a second longer, trying to remember the last time I had felt so loved and accepted. I blinked back the tears that threatened to spill over.

                I climbed into the passenger seat and shut the door securely behind me. Jonghyun backed out of the driveway and remained silent as we drove through the quiet evening. He suddenly cleared his throat, and the sound was surprisingly conspicuous in the silent interior of the car.

                “Sorry about earlier,” he said softly. “It really wasn’t any of my business…”

                I glanced over at him. He was staring straight ahead, and the dim, gray light of dusk cast his face into shadow.

                “It’s all right,” I said wholeheartedly, smiling at him. “I know it’s just because you were worried.”

                The tears that had threatened to spill when I was hugging Taemin ran down my cheeks at full force. It had been so long since someone had really, truly cared about me. The feeling was strange, yet welcome, and I embraced the warmth it sent through my veins. Although I had only known them for a day, Taemin and Jonghyun were already beginning to melt the fortress of ice that my parents had built around my heart.

                I guided Jonghyun to my house and he carefully pulled into the driveway. We sat in silence for several seconds as I considered what to say. I knew I needed to thank him for everything that he had done, but a simple “thank you” didn’t seem to suffice. Jonghyun looked at me hesitantly, and his eyebrows lowered in concern.

                “Key, why are you crying? Does your arm hurt?” He asked softly.

                I laughed nervously and wiped the tears from my face. “No, no. I’m fine.” I took a deep breath and prepared to thank him as best as I could when his arm wrapped around my shoulders. I froze in surprise as he pulled me into a hug. I hesitantly wrapped my arms around him and pulled him closer, resting my forehead against his shoulder as the tears began to fall again.

                He pulled back and looked away, obviously embarrassed at his sudden affectionate action. His hand reached up to touch his shoulder, where the sleeve of his T-shirt was soaked through with my tears.

                “Key,” he whispered, closing his eyes tightly. “Don’t cry. Everything will be okay.”

                “Thank you,” I whispered back, my voice breaking. I turned away and opened the door, stepping into the cold night air. I shut the door softly behind me and headed inside. It wasn’t until I was upstairs in my room that I realized I was still wearing Jonghyun’s coat.

The Next Day

 Jonghyun’s POV

                “Key hyung! Come sit with us!”

                I glanced up as Taemin waved his arm frantically. Key smiled broadly and turned toward our table, setting his plate down next to me and taking a seat. He was dressed boldly again, dazzling the school in hot pink skinny jeans and a loose-fitting metallic purple tank top over a black T-shirt.

                “Here, Jonghyun,” he said, shoving a bundle of material into my arms. “I forgot to give this back to you last night.”

                I smoothed my neatly folded coat and set it onto the seat next to me. Minho looked at the coat and smirked at me, raising an eyebrow.

                “So, Taemin,” he said, looking at Key curiously. “Are you going to introduce us to this friend of yours?”

                “Oh! Ne, sorry.” Taemin put his chopsticks down and beamed. “Everyone, this is Key. Key, this is Minho, and he is Onew.” He gestured to each person in turn, and Minho and Onew greeted Key politely. Key replied with a radiant smile and picked at his food delicately.

               I blushed as I remembered wrapping my arms around him in the car. It had been completely involuntary, and I replayed it in my head, trying to determine what it was that had made me do it. The sight of tears rolling down his face had caused my heart to contract in the most painful of ways, and I hated myself for it. I barely knew him. There was no logical explanation for the complete vulnerability I felt when I was around him.

                “Taemin-ah,” Minho said, staring at Taemin’s half-empty plate. “Eat your vegetables.”

                Taemin stuck out his tongue. “I don’t want to, hyung.”

                Minho sighed and picked up a piece of broccoli with his chopsticks, moving it toward Taemin’s face. “Eat it,” he commanded.

                Taemin smiled and opened his mouth, allowing Minho to feed him each individual vegetable. Minho laughed and ruffled his hair. Taemin blushed slightly, and I couldn’t help but smile. Those two were so hopelessly in love, and we were all waiting for the day when they would admit it to each other. I heard Key laugh quietly beside me. He was watching the scene with a content expression.

                “They’re so adorable,” he said with a grin. “Look how happy Taemin is…”

                “You’ve really taken to him, haven’t you?” I said, remembering their hugs and Key’s affectionate nickname.

                “How could I not?” He asked in surprise, looking at me with a smile. “He’s so cute! I feel like I need to take care of him…”

                “You’re like an umma,” I mumbled, swirling my food around my plate.

                He laughed again and stole a carrot from the small pile on my plate that I refused to eat. “Yes, I am! So eat your carrots, young man, or you’ll go to bed without dessert.”

                I shook my head in annoyance and pushed my plate toward him, ready to leave for my next class. His fingers wrapped around my wrist and pulled me close, until his lips were mere inches from my ear.

                “I don’t think so,” he whispered. I froze as his breath caressed my face. Why did he always have to do this? No, more importantly, why did I always react this way?

                “Fine!” I huffed. I reached for my plate and ate all the carrots in less than thirty seconds, washing them down with a generous amount of water.

                “No way!” Minho exclaimed, staring at me with an astonished expression. “Did Key really just get you to eat carrots?”

                “It’s a miracle…” Onew breathed.

                “Shut up,” I muttered, grabbing my plate and throwing it away. I sighed in annoyance as I left the cafeteria, trying to ignore the sound of Key’s laughter that followed me out.

                Key floated through my dreams as I fell asleep in Geology. I woke up confused and disoriented, with the teacher shaking my shoulder and the class snickering behind their books. I pressed my fingers against my temples and tried to focus. There was absolutely no reason for me to think about him so much.

                I threw my backpack on the floor and sprawled out on my bed when I got home. Images of Key kept flashing in my head: the way his hair shone in the light, the way his eyes sparkled when he laughed, the feel of his arms around me and his head on my shoulder… I cringed. It all sounded like something from the sickeningly sweet shojo manga that my sister always read. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say I sounded like a lovesick schoolgirl.

                But I’m not in love. First of all, I’ve only known Key for two days. He’s just interesting and unique…that’s why he draws my attention. I’ve never met anyone like him. Second, Key is a guy. I don’t think of guys that way. I’m straight. Straight like…something that’s really straight. You know, like rulers and pencils and the straight lines that you draw with rulers and pencils. There are girls all throughout the school who would kill to be with me. I usually just turn them down because I’m not really ready for a serious relationship right now.

                I pressed my face against my pillow and tried to sort through my thoughts. I’m not in love. Of course not. I just find Key extremely unique and refreshing. His personality is so different from everyone I’ve ever known. That’s all.

                I sighed and rolled over, staring up at the pale white of my ceiling. That’s all. That’s all. I smiled as my thoughts returned to a less chaotic mess. I had figured it out. I opened my backpack and started on my math homework, thoroughly satisfied when thoughts of Key never came to interrupt my calculations.

     I'm not sure if I should be saying, "Sorry this chapter is so long" or "Merry Christmas, guys, here's a long chapter"... O.o Either way, here's a long chapter, whether you like it or not. ^;^ Once again, I had an extreme case of writer's block...so...just bear with me if it's not the best. I try, I swear. ^;^  <3 I hope you all have a wonderful Christmas! ^;^ If you don't celebrate Christmas, I hope you have a wonderful whatever-it-is-that-you-have. <3 <3 <3