I dedicate this chapter to three of my readers: arsinen, Atenais and tabidragon, who have recently helped me with dealing with my writing doubts ^^ Thank you so much!

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Angel & Devil

(Seunghyun’s P.O.V)

A feeling of anxiety awoke me suddenly, making me want to sit up quickly and shake off last bits of a nightmare that seemed to painfully sting my heart. My attempt to get up was blocked by an unknown weight that was pinning me down the bed. I opened my eyes in an instant to investigate the situation. My eyes were dry, vision blurry, but I realised quickly why it was so. I hadn’t taken off my contact lenses which were now scratching my corneas, making them achy. It wasn’t the first time I fell asleep forgetting about the lenses, so after a few blinks I managed to sharpen my vision. I looked around an unfamiliar room and it took me a while to recognise the place. I was in Jiyong’s bedroom.

I held my breath, recalling the nightmare that had scared me so much. I was afraid that I would wake up in my own room, in a cold big bed without Jiyong by my side. I would discover that it all was a dream, that the only real moment was letting Jiyong go in Noon Square department store and all of the following events had taken place only in my imagination.

I looked down and my body filled with relief. Jiyong was there, still curled on my side with his hand wrapped over my waist. He was breathing slowly, still fast asleep, using my chest as a pillow. His blond hair made him look like an angel who came down from heaven to guard me in my sleep and forgot to disappear before I would wake up. I couldn’t fight a sudden willingness to put my face in this golden hair. I breathed in the scent of Jiyong’s strawberry shampoo and placed a gentle kiss on top of his head. Jiyong smiled in his sleep, making my heart grow in my chest. He was here with me. He was mine.

I let this overwhelming feeling of joy rush through my body.

It wasn’t a dream, I told myself and thanked God that hard moments of the previous day had already passed. I wouldn’t stand experiencing this shock and pain that had attacked me unexpectedly in Myeong-Dong one more time … Jiyong telling me to leave him alone, his enraged and hurt expression… It was too much. Especially because I hadn’t been prepared for such a turn of events. His cruel words had torn my heart into pieces, although I knew I deserved it. The situation had been hopeless. I could do nothing but let Jiyong go. But I hadn’t given up on him.

My mind turned the clocks back and I found myself in that passage once again. I didn’t know why my imagination loved playing this kind of tricks on me. Whenever I wanted to forget something, it always made me remember, reminding me of every detail, every feeling that I wanted to get rid of. So I was standing there again, my gaze locked on nothing. I had an impression that my heartbeat stopped and although my body was still palpably in the same place, my soul had followed Jiyong. But he was running too fast, disappeared from my eyes too quickly, hiding somewhere too far for my spirit to reach it.

A faint pounding in my chest informed me that my soul came back to its place. Hundreds of thin airy ribbons of my consciousness finally reached every cell and nerve and I regained control of my frozen body. Then I suddenly realised that I had to do something. An impulse of energy started circulating faster in my brain, invigorating it to think.

JIYONG! Every molecule in my body shouted, waking me up from a daze.

Jiyong had once told me he hated crowded places, so I was sure he didn’t hide in any of the shops or cafes and there was no point in looking for him there. Instead, I drove to his house and parked my car behind a corner to wait for him. But he didn’t appear for more than an hour. He didn’t answered my phone calls, either, letting my imagination create worst scenarios with Jiyong being knocked down by a car or in a dark alley on his way home. I drove back to Myeong-Dong and spent another hour looking for Jiyong, what occurred to be pointless. Searching for one person in Myeong-Dong on Saturday afternoon was like trying to find a needle in a haystack. So I came home, having decided to get changed and plan my strategy.

And then he called me. I almost couldn’t believe that it was happening, but when I answered the call, my unexpectedly good mood sank towards a darker place. Jiyong was sobbing, telling me in a shaky voice that he had got lost. I jumped to my feet and wanted to leave house immediately, but Dongwook chose that moment to make a fuss that I had stolen his lovely car. It took me so long to finally reach that Koreana Hotel that I was sure I wouldn’t find Jiyong there. But then I saw him standing there and crying and the whole world stopped for me. I only wanted to embrace him and keep him close, to comfort him, to say: “Everything’s alright.”

However hard that day was, Jiyong somehow managed to find his way back to my arms. It confirmed what I was thinking since the day I realised my feelings for him - we were meant for each other and whatever would happen, there was this special power that would reunite us and let us be together.

The power they call love.

I came back to reality. All of the things that happened yesterday seemed so distant now. I was finally able to set my mind on the current moment and stopped reminiscing about past events.

I wrapped my hands around Jiyong’s frame and hugged him closer, burying my face in his hair and drinking in his sweet scent. Suddenly, I found myself being embraced by smaller arms that squeezed me tight.

“Seunghyun,” Jiyong muttered in a sleepy voice, his eyes still closed. “You want to garrotte me in my sleep?”

“No, not really,” I chuckled. “But I have to say I’m disappointed.”

Jiyong cuddled against my side and looked up, his lids fluttering open as he tried to blink the sleepiness away. Butterflies field my stomach, when he finally set his chocolate gaze on me.

“Why?” Jiyong asked and pouted slightly. This cute expression and golden mess on his head really made him look like an angel.

“Well,” I sighed theatrically. “I expected some ’I was afraid I would wake up without you by my side, Seunghyun-ah’ or ‘I’m relieved it wasn’t a dream, Hyung’,” I attempted to speak in a high-pitched girly voice, trying to hide from myself the fact that it was me who thought these things. The only difference was that there should be ‘Jiyong’ instead of ‘Seunghyun’ or ‘Hyung’.

Jiyong frowned and out his lips.

“I don’t sound like that,” he said, pretending that I had offended him. “Plus, there was no need for me to say anything of that kind.”

He put his head back on my chest and clenched his fingers on the sleeve of my shirt.

‘Oh, really?’ I wanted to answer and more, but then he started speaking again.

“I woke up almost every hour,” he told me quietly. “To check, if you are still with me. So I knew it wasn’t a dream.”

This sudden confession left me speechless. I opened my mouth to say something, but I couldn’t find right words to express what I felt. Unbearable sweetness of this moment embraced me tighter than Jiyong’s arms and made my heart bang hard against my ribcage, nonverbally letting Jiyong know that I liked what he had told me, more than anything else I had imagined.

“Ji,” I whispered only and brought my hand to Jiyong’s back. He fidgeted under my touch and unexpectedly rolled on top of me, putting his leg between mine, completely unaware what his action made me feel.

I gritted my teeth, praying that his knee wouldn’t press too high. My body ached in desperate longing, but I fought hard to suppress it.

“Seunghyun, do you know this song?” Jiyong hummed a few notes and waited for my reaction.

I shook my head, even though I recognised it.

“Really?” Jiyong raised a brow. He looked up, his lips moving almost unnoticeably and I realised he was recalling the words of the song. Then he started singing.

“Neomu neomu meotjyeo nuni nuni busyeo,” he sang in tune. Warm timbre and tone of his voice made the lyrics sound better than in the original version. “Someul mot shigeso tteollineun boy.”

Pleasant sensation filled my stomach, because I realised that Jiyong was somehow confessing what he felt to me.

You're so so handsome, my eyes, my eyes are blinded. I can't breathe, because I'm trembling.

It sounded so accurate, especially the last line, that I had an impression that the song was really about Jiyong and the way he had behaved in my surrounding since the moment we met  for the first time.

Jiyong silenced and looked at me expectantly, waiting for my statement, whether I knew the song or not. I narrowed my eyes and made an expression full of thought, simultaneously trying to fight a desire to slip my hand behind his neck and pull him down to kiss his sweet lips. Instead, I set my feignedly concerned look on him, but my words didn’t really match it.

“And where is ‘Gee gee gee gee baby baby baby baby’?” I asked, making Jiyong’s eyes widen in shock.

“Seunghyun!” he yelled. “You knew it, right? You knew the song from the very beginning!”

I couldn’t help but burst out laughing at the sight of his outraged face, which for me was cute rather than fuming. But in my opinion every expression Jiyong made was cute, so probably my assessment wasn’t reliable at all. Jiyong pouted as to prove that I was actually right and wanted to roll off of me, but I stopped him halfway, making him lie by my side. I turned to my side to face him. We were now looking into each other’s eyes, our heads on the pillow.

“You’ve deceived me,” Jiyong stated and narrowed his lips into a thin line.

I couldn’t stop a chuckle from slipping out of my mouth.

“I only wanted to hear you sing that song,” I told him and brought my hand up to his head to smooth down his unruly strands of golden hair. He lifted his hand, too, and touched top of my palm with his delicate, but cold fingers.

“So how was my singing?” he asked with no signs of his former aggravation. His lips twitched into a smile, when my palm covered his and wrapped it into my fist to warm it up.

“I guess that if you don’t succeed as a fashion designer, you should try becoming a singer,” I told him, smiling.

“Yeah, I can see it,” Jiyong giggled. “Singing at weddings and funerals.”

“That’s right,” I agreed. “With this angelic golden hair and cute face of yours they would welcome you with open arms in every church. But you would have to change your repertoire from Girls’ Generation to something more... suitable.”

“Maybe Super Junior will have something more proper,” Jiyong said and we both laughed.

“I didn’t know that you’re a k-pop fanboy, Ji,” I told him, making him wince.

“I’m not,” he replied and I raised a brow teasingly. “My sister listens to these bands all the time, that’s why I know some lyrics. They just eat into my brain,” he explained. “Though it’s not really a kind of music I like. Sometimes I even think that I sing better than all of these k-pop idols,” he added, grinning and I thought that he was right. Not only was his voice better, but also he was much prettier.

“And how about you, Seunghyun?” Jiyong asked suddenly and I looked at him questioningly. “Do you sing, too?”

“Oh,” I sighed and lowered my gaze, suddenly feeling embarrassed. “Um- Well- Sometimes. Sometimes I rap,” I told him with hesitation.

Jiyong’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Really? Cool!” he exclaimed. “I want to hear you rap, Seunghyun! Please!” He begged with his puppy eyes that made my insides squeeze.

“N-no, I can’t,” I shook my head and closed my eyes to cut off the wave of pleading cuteness that attacked me. “I do it only when no one’s around.”

“But, Seunghyun!” Jiyong moaned and moved closer to me. “I sang for you!”

“Yeah, only two verses,” I snapped, afraid that in a few seconds I would no longer be able to say ‘no’, because Jiyong pressed his forehead to mine and put his fingers into my hair. It surprised me how seductive he could be, if he only wanted.

“I can sing more,” he murmured. His warm breath on my face made me open my eyes. Jiyong’s chocolate gaze locked on mine and he tried to convince me without words. “I’ll sing you a song you’ll choose, it can be whatever you like. But please, I need to hear your rap.”

I shivered under his piercing glance and even though I didn’t feel like singing, I slowly started changing my mind.

“I’ll do it later, okay?” I pleaded. “I’ll think about a song I want you to sing, and then I’ll rap for you. I promise.”

Jiyong seemed satisfied as he nodded slightly and his eyes flared with brightness. We stared at each other for a while what made me feel as if I was taken to heaven with my body and soul. And my guide was an angel called Kwon Jiyong.

“You have eyes of a devil,” Jiyong told me all of sudden, making me blink in surprise.

“What?” I asked, shocked.

A second ago I thought Jiyong is an angel and now he tells me I’m a devil? We make a great couple, then.

 “They are completely bloodshot,” Jiyong explained. “And your irises seem to be blurry, too. I don’t know why I haven’t noticed it earlier.”

“So it’s really that bad,” I said to myself and sat up, rubbing my eyelids. “It’s all because of my contact lenses,” I turned to Jiyong and he nodded with understanding.

“Do you have your glasses with you?” he asked,  concern hearable in his voice.

“Yeah, I always take them with me in case something happens to the lenses,” I answered and began unwrapping myself from the fluffy blanket.

Wait. A fluffy blanket?

I looked again to check if my poor eyes weren’t misleading me, but there actually was this large piece of soft fabric - without any doubt it was a blanket.

“Where did it come from?” I asked, already standing on my feet.

Jiyong didn’t get my question, so I pointed at the furry fabric. I was sure there had been no blanket, when we had gone to sleep.

“Ah,” Jiyong gasped, suddenly turning pale. He set a terrified look on me. “Dami. Dami was here,” he whispered in a scared voice.

“Your sister?” I asked, even though I knew the answer.

I sensed a big misunderstanding. I only hoped that Dami hadn’t drawn any unnecessary conclusions and had noticed that we were actually fully dressed, so it was obvious that… nothing had happened.

I felt some hot blood rush to my cheeks at that thought.

“Why didn’t you lock the door?” I stared at Jiyong who was sitting bolt upright in bed.

“I did,” he replied. “But when Dami wants to walk in, she somehow manages to do it.”

“I guess she’s just practicing her ninja fangirl skills and plans to sneak into a villa of Super Junior,” I tried to turn the situation into a joke and relax the atmosphere.

Jiyong let out a quiet giggle and with a sigh lay back on the pillows.

“Maybe I was cold at night and now simply don’t remember covering us with that blanket,” he said and hid his face under his palms.

I nodded in silent agreement. It sounded quite plausible. I started looking for my bag and found it on Jiyong’s desk (I left it on the floor, didn’t I?) together with a pile of neatly folded clothes and a toothbrush on top of it, and then I had no more doubts that someone had visited us at night. I was now wishing that it really had been Dami, not Jiyong’s mom.

I took the pile in my hands and covered it with the bag, deciding not to tell Jiyong about my discovery.

“Where’s the bathroom?” I asked, approaching the door.

“First door on the left,” Jiyong mumbled and turned to his side. “Beware of Dami.”

It sounded like those signs people hang on their fences. ‘Beware of dog’. I hoped that Dami wouldn’t bite me.

I tiptoed to the bathroom and fortunately found it without any problems. I carefully locked the door behind me to make it harder for Jiyong’s ninja sister to enter the room.

The bathroom was definitely smaller than those in my house, but it had a better atmosphere. Thanks to the dominance of crème colours and wall lightning the place seemed to be cosy and I was easily able to imagine how great it would be to refresh here after a basketball training or a few hours of helping my mom in the garden. I had to admit that I hated those raw modern bathrooms designed by my mother. They made me feel as if I was living in a hotel or in a freaked-out futuristic loft. I somehow envied Jiyong that he could always lock himself in this restful place and it didn’t matter how hard his day was, he could spend some time here, take off his clothes without unnecessary rush…

I drew a sharp breath and closed my eyes tight. No, no, no. It wasn’t a good time to think about Jiyong taking off his clothes.

I splashed some cold water on my face, trying hard to drive away this vivid vision.

I rested my hands on the washbasin and looked in the mirror to admire my red eyes. Jiyong was right, whites of my eyes were totally bloodshot and I did look like a demon. With a sigh I washed my hands and started the process of removing the contact lenses. My few years of practice let me do it quite swiftly and when the lenses were put into the case and glasses found their place on my nose, I decided to get changed. I wasn’t sure who had prepared clothes for me, but they occurred to fit me almost perfectly. I doubted that black long-sleeved “I love NY” sweatshirt and washed out jeans belonged to Jiyong’s father, but they weren’t his own either. It was another mystery I wanted to unravel.

Having put my stuff into the bag, I left the bathroom, trying not to make any sound. I slowly closed the bathroom door and when I managed to do it without the softest creak, I sighed with relief. I didn’t have a chance to celebrate, though, because when I only turned around, I noticed a pair of chocolate eyes staring at me. I jumped back and bumped into the door I had just closed.

“Choi Seunghyun,” Kwon Dami spoke in a low voice, making a step forward. She smirked under her breath, amused by my terrified expression that betrayed my sudden willingness to sink into the door behind me. “So how was the night with my little brother?”

I swallowed hard and looked into her eyes, begging for mercy.

“I’m quite curious what our parents will have to say, hearing about that,” she said, completely ignoring my silent pleas. “Should I start shouting that I found a stranger in our bathroom?” She asked, raising a brow questioningly.

I shook my head quickly.

“No,” I gasped. “Please, don’t. We did nothing. Jiyong and I are just-“

“’Friends’?” Dami snapped, utterly mirthful. “I guess a friend doesn’t hold a friend in his sleep like that. Especially if they are both boys. Am I right?”

Dami moved closer, so I nodded without hesitation.

“You should be happy that my parents aren’t home,” she hissed. “It seems that my brother really likes you, but if you ever make him cry, I will beat your y . Understand?”

“Y-yeah,” I mumbled.

“I want pancakes,” she stated in reply.

“Excuse me?” I asked, confused. I was sure that I had misheard her.

“I want you to make pancakes for breakfast,” she clarified. “I won’t say a word to my parents, if you prepare pancakes for me.”

“B-but,” I started, but Dami put her finger on my lips.

“I don’t accept refusal,” she told me with a mean flicker in her eye. “I’ve paid the debt I owed you for helping Jiyong at that party,” she pointed at the blouse I was wearing. “I bought it for my boyfriend, but he broke up with me before I could give it to him. The jeans are also his, I forgot to give them back,” she explained. “You helped Jiyong, I helped you, so now I can blackmail you without any pangs of conscience.”

“Can I take these clothes off, then?” I asked with hope. I’d rather she was my debtor than a blackmailer.

Dami giggled.

“Don’t mess with me, Choi Seunghyun,” she warned me. “You’d better not ask me twice to see you , I‘m telling you.”

I regretted my words in an instant and decided not to say anything more, because it would probably rebound on me.

“I guess we’ve reached an agreement, then,” Dami stated, even though I didn’t say a thing.

She sent me a mischievous smile and spun around on her heel. I watched her go away, but when I was about to let my guard down, she suddenly looked back, once again pinning me to the door with her look.

“I like pancakes with chocolate sauce,” she said. “You have thirty minutes.”

And with that sentence on her lips, she entered her room and disappeared.

I scratched my head and willy-nilly went downstairs to find the kitchen. I really had no idea what to think about Dami. Was she my ally or enemy? I had mixed feelings about her. But one thing was for sure. She went overboard with watching MasterChef Korea on OliveTV.

I started looking for a big clock counting down my time, but fortunately, there wasn’t any.

Standing in the corridor, I hesitated for a short while. There were two ways for me to choose - I recognised the kitchen on the left, so I assumed that door on the right led to the living room. I felt a growing curiosity to look around Jiyong’s house. Who knew what I could find? Some of his childhood photos, maybe? Even if there weren’t any, it seemed so tempting to see where Jiyong was spending his time after school…

I sighed, reminding myself that I had lost about three minutes on doing nothing, so I pulled the kitchen door to find myself in Mrs. Kwon’s kingdom. I didn’t exaggerate, it truly was a kingdom. The kitchen had also its own special atmosphere, created by light brown antique cabinets with double door filled with dishes, cups and bowls, a myriad of items hung beneath them and the mixture of scents that filled the room. I admired the way the place was organised. There were spices in small glass jugs, a shelf full of jars, a big collection of flavoured teas in a special box… Everything seemed to be put in an order, but it wasn’t so imposed and artificial as it was in my mother’s ultramodern kitchen.

I had never been much of a chef, so I rarely spent time in the kitchen in my own house - we were usually eating in dining room, so there was no need for me to stay there longer than a few minutes. The only exception were Mondays - then it was my turn to prepare breakfast for my mother and Dongwook. And it seemed that I was really lucky today, because the one and only dish I could prepare were pancakes with whipped cream and cinnamon. I had mastered it to the perfection, so I was sure Dami wouldn’t be disappointed.

It was actually Sunday, but I suddenly felt like eating pancakes, too. I decided that I would prepare them also for me and Jiyong and later convince Dongwook that he should make his waffles tomorrow, even though my family was used to eat them on Tuesday. 

Without resistance, I started searching for all the ingredients and equipment needed and after a few minutes the first pancake was already turning golden on the frying pan. In the meantime, I prepared the whipped cream the way I always did and began thinking about the chocolate sauce for Dami. A new element in my usual dish was quite challenging. There was nothing left for me to do - I had to experiment a bit.

A fifth pancake was already on the plate, when the strange looking mixture in a pot started boiling. I switched off the cooker and took a spoonful of the brownish substance. I analysed it carefully and came to a conclusion that it looked quite tasty and its smell was also fine. I only wondered how a mixture of dark chocolate, butter, cocoa, sugar and some milk and water would taste. I slowly put the spoon in my mouth and felt fireworks go off in my head. It tasted… heavenly.

Should I consider participating in an audition for the next MasterChef edition?

I giggled under my breath and put the spoon in the sink which was already filled with other dirty dishes. I wasn’t sure how many minutes had already passed, so I quickly finished cooking the pancakes. Then I added the toppings and they were ready to be served.

I knew from my own experience that pancakes taste best when they are eaten straight after being cooked, so I decided to clean my workplace and wash the dishes quickly and then ask Jiyong and Dami to go downstairs for breakfast. The sound of water running from the tap prevented me from hearing that someone had entered the kitchen. Only when I turned it off did I discover other persons’ presence. I spun around, afraid that I would see Dami with a butcher knife in her hand. Fortunately, the person standing back to me beside the table was Jiyong. However, I realised instantly that it was too early to relax my tensed body.

Jiyong’s baggy t-shirt was hanging loosely over his thin frame, showing his shoulder and half of arm. His bare milky skin demonstrated unconsciously, caused a wave of heat that rushed through my veins. Step by step, I approached Jiyong slowly and caught his hand from behind in the exact moment, when he wanted to off whipped cream from his fingers.

“Ji,” I murmured in his ear, making him stiffen. “You’re supposed to eat the cream together with pancakes. It really does taste better that way.”

“There was no fork, so I-,” he started, but the rest of the sentence turned into a long moan of pleasure elicited by my tongue tracing its way down his finger.

“S-Seunghyun,” Jiyong gasped, melting in my embrace

I slipped my second hand under his blouse and started drawing circles around his bellybutton with the tip of my forefinger.

“Hmm?” I muttered questioningly, moving my lips from his fingers to his exposed neck and shoulder. I started leaving gentle kisses on Jiyong’s soft skin aroused by shivers of ecstasy that covered it with little bumps which let me know that the boy enjoyed my caresses

My fingertips made a trail up and down Jiyong’s sides, making him lean into me, completely out of breath. He let out another quiet moan and turned his head to the side, his cheeks burning, eyes half-closed. Seeing his flushed expression almost set me on fire. I knew I had to control myself, being aware of the fact that Dami could walk in any second, but it was hard to suppress my growing desire.

There often were moments when Jiyong awoke these kind of feelings in me. He didn’t do it on purpose, I also had no idea when to anticipate it. A single action or motion was enough for me to start burning inside, wanting to pull Jiyong closer and kiss him passionately… or do even more. It was the worst when it happened at school, with people all around us. Then I could do nothing but grit my teeth and try fighting against this inhuman power in me. But it was no easy task to silence this inner demon that acquired a great ability of controlling my thoughts and actions.

I had never felt like this before meeting him. Of course, I had girlfriends who never hesitated to kiss me and were always willing to do more, but I never shared their attachment or passion. Jiyong’s appearance in my life had completely changed my attitude towards relationships. He was like a lantern that suddenly lit up the darkness of my every-day reality. I guessed I started falling in love with him that day when he bumped into me in front of school entrance. The seed of my affection was planted by his bashfulness, innocent charm, the way he clung to me after his collision with a glass wall. It was hard for me to admit it then, but I couldn’t stop thinking about him. I unconsciously waited for every our accidental encounter. However, it was the time when my feelings were focused around G-Dragon, a person whose talent had never ceased to amaze and impress me.

There were no words that could describe what was happening in my mind that day when I  discovered that Jiyong and G-Dragon were actually the same person. It was like a dream come true. That moment, when I saw Jiyong’s drawings and recognised them as the ones G-Dragon had sent me, turned my world upside down. All the plans about my meeting with G-Dragon stopped existing, because it suddenly occurred that I had already met him.

It had been too scared me to realise that I liked G-Dragon more than a friend likes a friend, but when Jiyong’s second identity had been unmasked I had no longer cared that I felt something more to another boy. They say love is blind and I somehow agreed with this statement, because Jiyong’s presence made me blind to the world. I only had my eyes for him.

“Seunghyun,” Jiyong muttered, bringing me out of my thoughts. He turned around in my arms and buried his face against my chest. I hugged him close, happy that devilish whispers in my head had disappeared.

“Your pancakes will be cold,” I told him, suddenly reminding myself that the breakfast had been ready for more than a few minutes.

“I don’t really mind,” he replied, looking up.

“What about your sister?” I asked.

“Oh, so there is a plate for her, too!” Jiyong sent me one of his gorgeous smiles. “That’s so kind of you, Seunghyun! I’m sure she’ll love you!”

She already loves. Blackmailing me.

“I can take it to her bedroom,” Jiyong offered. “She likes eating in her bed, while listening to her k-pop bands,” he explained and unwrapped himself from my arms. “And thanks to that we will eat alone.”

This idea really appealed to me, so I nodded with agreement and followed Jiyong with my eyes until he disappeared behind the door with a plate in his hand.

It hadn’t been long before Jiyong came back. I noticed that he had changed his clothes and his hair was neatly combed, so I assumed that his visit in his sister’s room hadn’t taken him long. I was almost sure that she hadn’t said a word to Jiyong about our deal. I had a feeling that I would be her servant whenever I would enter the Kwons’ house.

“Can we eat in the living room?” Jiyong asked and not waiting for my answer, took the plates in his hands and with a nod told me to follow him.

I hesitated for a second, stopped by a sudden thought that struck my mind. I frowned, surprised that when I had seen Jiyong enter the kitchen, I had thought he was someone else. The problem was that I had no idea who, but a weak voice in my head was telling me that it was something important, that I should give it some thought.

“Seunghyun?” Jiyong’s voice brought me back to reality. When I joined him in the corridor, I had already forgotten about that inexplicable association.

Jiyong pressed the door handle down with his elbow and invited me to a comfortably furnished spacious room. We sat on the sofa, but Jiyong didn’t begin eating straightaway. He fumbled around for a remote control and switched on TV. Having chosen a random channel, he finally tasted the pancakes. Only one bite was enough to make him smile wide.

“Delicious, aren’t they?” I asked, watching his blissful expression.

He nodded enthusiastically and continued eating. I was pretty hungry myself, so after a few minutes my plate turned empty. Jiyong, who was also finishing his portion, suddenly stopped his fork halfway to his mouth.

“Oh,” he sighed as if he had recalled something. He shot me a short glance and ate the last piece of his pancake with a smile dancing on his lips.

“What’s going on?” I asked, curious what had caused his surprise.

“Nothing,” he replied and leant back on the sofa nonchalantly, having put his plate on the coffee table.

“I don’t believe you,” I stated, moving closer. “Tell me, Ji. I saw your expression just a second ago.”

Jiyong looked down, blushing slightly.

“But it’s embarrassing,” he mumbled, keeping his eyes downcast and playing with the ring on his finger.

“You’ve made me even more curious.” I whispered, leaning to him. “I want to know what you are thinking…”

Jiyong’s ears turned red as they always did, when he was intimidated by a sudden closeness.

“Um…,” he stumbled over his words. “Do you remember the day when you helped me after I had bumped into your brother?” He asked, his attention still focused on the ring.

“Of course I do,” I replied, trying to guess what he was going to tell me.

“So… Later when you caught me after my collision with the door and I lost my consciousness for a short while,” he stopped and drew a deep breath. “It wasn’t only because I hit the glass with my head…”

Jiyong bit his lower lip, still avoiding looking at me. My heart beat faster in my chest, but I didn’t dare moving or saying anything, wanting not to distract the boy.

“Well, I guess I have to tell you that I had a crush on you for much longer than you can imagine…,” he said quietly, his voice shaking. “So when all of sudden you were holding me in your arms, I was about to faint from… emotional distress or something…,” he let out a giggle at the recollection. “I felt so weak and embarrassed that I couldn’t collect my thoughts at all. But then I smelled your scent. It was a mixture of cologne, vanilla and cinnamon and all I was able to think about was that you must have eaten pancakes for breakfast. I daydreamt about eating pancakes with you.”

I couldn’t bear it any longer. Driven by an impulse, I took his face in my hands and pressed my lips to his. Jiyong shivered under my touch and wrapped his hands over my back, pulling me closer. His eyelids fluttered shut, tickling my cheeks with his long eyelashes. He let my tongue slip into his mouth, turning the kiss into more passionate one. He surrendered to me completely, allowing his body to obey my every order. I pulled him back, not breaking the kiss, making him lay on the sofa. I was on him, when I finally had to catch a breath. I looked at Jiyong’s flushed face and noticed tears escaping his eyes. My heart suddenly stopped.

“Ji,” I whispered softly. “Why are you crying?”

Jiyong sniffed and his lips twitched into a smile.

“Because I’m happy,” he answered, brightness flaring in his tearful eyes. “I’m the happiest person in the world, Seunghyun,” he added, embracing me tighter.

I had always considered myself a men of action rather than a man of words, but there was one thing that needed to be said. I recalled Jiyong’s quiet confession that had slipped out of his mouth yesterday when he had been cuddling against my side.

“I love you, Seunghyun.”

Why had I hesitated to answer then? I had no idea.

Warmth spread through my body and I looked up, making my gaze meet Jiyong’s eyes that were still shining from tears.

“I love you, Ji,” I said and my heart performed a pirouette in my chest at the sound of these words coming out of my mouth.

“I’m so glad you do, Seunghyun,” Jiyong whispered, smiling bashfully.

His hand moved to the back of my neck and he pulled me down, giving rise to another long kiss full of affection and thankfulness.

A Japanese singer on TV accompanied our moment of confessions, lyrics of his song fitted it perfectly.

“Itoshii hito, nakanai de, waratte misete. Namida ga mitakute suki tte ittanjanai nda yo?” he sang in an emotional voice.

My beloved, Don't cry, show me a smile. If I wanted to see your tears, I wouldn’t have said “I like you”, would I?

Suddenly, I knew what song I wanted Jiyong to sing for me.