I woke up with another headache.  Barely able to open my eyes, I forced my neck to twist to the left.  Jongin had his mouth gaping open as he snored faintly, a light dribble of slobber beside his lips.  He took up three quarters of his bed, his gangly limbs spread out all over the place.  I pursed my lips and pulled myself up, and I clutched at my head as the contents of my cranium seemed to slip around.  Supporting myself on my knees, I sat near Jongin’s head and inspected how drunk he had gotten.  I wasn’t going to wear myself out if he wouldn’t even be able to break into consciousness.  He didn’t smell like alcohol, and he seemed to be sleeping peacefully.  Figures he would be sensible enough to remain sober.  I shrugged and bent down, placing my mouth beside his ear.

                “JONGIN!”

                He snapped out of sleep, shrieking like a girl.  “Jesus Christ, what’s wrong with you?” he asked when he realized it was just me.

                I pointed to my temple.  “My head hurts.”

                He groaned and flipped over, burying his head into his pillow.  “I don’t care.  Go take an aspirin or something.”

                “But it’s not my house.  Get it for me, Jongie.”

                “It might as well be, seeing as how you’re here all the ing time.”  He turned back over, looking at me through groggily lidded eyes.  “What are you doing here anyway?”

                “I don’t know.  I just didn’t feel like going home.”  After stalking Luhan.

                He narrowed his eyes at me.  I’m an awful liar, I really am.  “Where did you go then?”

                “What?”  I feigned innocence, knowing it would get me nowhere.  He was staring at me all too curiously.

                “You left and then you came back.  Where did you go?”

                “I just—I went for a walk.”

                He raised his eyebrows.  “Drunk?”

                “I needed air.”

                “Like hell you did.  I saw you fall down the steps, like, five times.  You would’ve given up if you just ‘needed air.’  Spill it, where’d you go?”

                “I think I’ll go get the aspirin myself.”

                “Sehunnie.”  He knew I couldn’t walk away from his motherly tone.

                I heaved a long sigh.  “I followed Luhan.”

                “Followed him… Followed him where?”

                “Home.”

                He sat up immediately, eyes widened.  “You stalked him?”

                “What?  No, I—”

                “Sehun, I wanted you to get some, not become a stalker.”

                “I’m not a stalker.  I just… I just… I just—Hey, where’s Joonmyun?  Shouldn’t you two be ing in the living room?”

                He frowned at me and got out of the bed.  “I told him to go home.  You were so faced when you got back I decided to take care of you.”

                “Aw, I love you, Jongie.  Where are you going?”

                “Gross, you creep.  I’m getting you your damn aspirin.”

                Creepy me.  Hot Luhan.

                ing hell.

                “Have you seen him?” I asked Jongin.  He didn’t need to ask who the ‘him’ was.

                “Yeah, I think he’s on the balcony.  Don’t stare from afar though.  That’s not cool, man.”

                Rolling my eyes, I made my way to the balcony.  Jongin’s house is relatively high up, so even from the first floor, there’s a nice view of the city.  I found him asleep at the small table outside, his head resting against the top of the chair he was sitting in.  He looked…

                He looked beautiful.

                I closed the glass door to block out the music inside and sat in the other chair, and I really did feel like a creep then, watching him shift slightly in his sleep.  I placed my drink on the table and scanned over his body.  A red long sleeved v-neck that dipped across his smooth skin, khaki shorts that showcased his slender but fit calves, smooth fingers that—Wait, what’s that?

                I leaned over to catch a better view of his arm, and I felt my stomach turn.  The sleeve of his shirt had risen a bit, revealing puckered slashes across his wrist, some in an older state of healing than others.  I sat leaning over his wrist, unmoving until he stirred at the coolness of a sudden breeze.  He jumped a little at the sight of me.

                “Oh hey, Sehun.”

                .  Say something.  Say something.  “Hey.”

                He yawned and stretched out his arms as if nothing had happened.  Well, okay, he didn’t actually know anything had happened.  “What’s up?”

                “Can I ask you something?”  No, stop it, Sehun.

                “Yeah, sure.”

                “Why do you always wear long sleeves?”  I watched as his expression transitioned into something unreadable.  Oh, Jesus.  “You know, because it’s July.  It’s—It’s hot out.”

                He tugged at his sleeves, covering his hands.  “I don’t know.  I just like long sleeves.”

                I didn’t know why I couldn’t stop myself, but I wanted to press harder.  “But it’s the middle of summer.  I mean, it’s like sweltering, even at ni—”

                “It doesn’t seem so hot to me.”  He got out of his seat, and before I could say anything else, he opened the door and disappeared into the house.