“It’s okay. Everything is okay.”

Curling my fingers into Woohyun’s shirt, I sniffled unattractively, almost choking on my own mucus. His hand was warm against the expanse of my back, felt even through the fabric of my shirt. He was rubbing circles and tracing patterns up and down my spine, around the jut of my shoulder blades. He continued to shush me. I continued to sob.

“Do you want me to buy you more caterpillars?”

Relinquishing my grip on his shirt, I balled the fingers of my right hand, punching him in his thigh. “That would ruin my data. How can you be so insensitive?”

“I’m only trying to help.” He frowned, rubbing at his pained leg.

I told him I knew he was only trying to help and apologized, pushing his hand out of the way and replacing it with my own. Gently massaging his thigh and ignoring his complaints about how he bruised easily and how I should pay him for physical and emotional damages, I laid my head on his shoulder. He rambled on as the steady stream of my tears calmed to a light trickle. When my sadness reduced to nothing more than a few unconscious sniffles, he bounced his shoulder, alerting me to move my head. Staring at him with eyes that still stung and were probably terrifyingly bloodshot, I winced when his fingers swept beneath my lids, catching the few drops still clinging to my lashes. Then he smiled and I couldn’t help the small quirk of my lips because it was Woohyun and no normal person could help but return such a handsome smile.

“Thanks,” I said, playing with my fingers.

“You’re lame.”

Immediately my head snapped up, eyes locking onto the now bored face of my housemate. “Excuse me?”

“Who cries over butterflies?”

“They were like my babies!”

Woohyun stared at me as if I was the dumbest person alive. I hated that look; it was almost as annoying as when he looked at me in the way that meant he was wordlessly mocking me. He slid off my bed and wiped his hands on the front of his jeans. As he walked out of my room, he said he was going to buy a case of beer. In case I needed to drown my sorrows in cheap alcohol later. I hurled my pillow at him but my trajectory was off and it went crashing into the small table I had beside my door, knocking over many priceless video game figurines and old family photos. I could hear him laughing down the hall, that crystal sound that reflected off every nearby surface and resonated throughout our small apartment.

When I stopped hearing the chime of his laughter in my ears, minutes after he slammed the front door behind him, I regarded the butterfly habitat hanging right in front of my double window. Early we had swept out the fallen butterflies together. Instead of tossing them in the trashcan, I sprinkled them outside the apartment building in the bed of marigolds the landscapers check up on whenever they came to do whatever landscapers did. Woohyun was still being nice to me then and he told me they were in a better place as we looked at their small, broken bodies. I wished he said they were burning in the deepest pits of hell. At least then it wouldn’t feel like he was babying me and I wouldn’t be sitting here, regressing back into the depression I felt right after he told me they died.

Falling onto my back, I stared at the ceiling, counting the number of glow in the dark dinosaur stickers plastered there. I had bought a pack of the stickers before Woohyun moved in, planning on secretly redecorating Daeyeol’s room the next time I went home. I still hadn’t visited by the time Woohyun moved in and when he saw the stickers sitting in a plastic bag on the couch where I had left them, he said to not waste them on my brother. He even offered to put up stickers of his own. As it was, we filled my ceiling with pterodactyls and triceratops and velociraptors two weeks after he moved in and decorated his own ceiling with glow in the dark solar system stickers. Sometimes, when we were bored or procrastinating on fifteen page papers, we would sit in the hallway between our rooms and argue about who had the better stickers.

I sighed and closed my eyes. Looking at the stickers was supposed to make me feel better and yet it didn’t. I wondered if I should call Myungsoo, if he would understand. Running my hand over wrinkled blankets, I grasped my cell phone and pressed the power button. Bringing the phone before my face, I scrolled down my contacts list to his name. I read over the numbers displayed to me left to right, right to left, again and again. My finger hovered over the call button but I couldn’t bring myself to call him. I couldn’t bring myself to call him and say something like hey, I’m sort of depressed because my butterflies died and the stickers on my ceiling aren’t helping and I really just want to see your face and maybe get a box of fried chicken and I’m not rambling, I promise, okay bye.

I was surprised when my phone vibrated all of sudden and Woohyun’s smiling face greeted me. Confused as to why he was calling when he just left, I answered the call with an unsure hello.

“You done being sad?”

Rolling my eyes, I shifted until I was lying on my side. “Classless as usual. How long does it take to buy a case of beer?”

“Apparently long enough for you to get snippy. Anyway, I didn’t call to mess with you. I’m picking up pad thai; you want some?”

“Can I just share with you?”

“As long as you promise not to eat most of it like the last time we shared something.”

Drawing patterns into my blankets, I snorted. “I will make no such promise.”

“I’ll get extra just in case. I’ll be back in half and hour.”

“Thanks. I love you Woohyunnie.”

There was enough of a silence to make me think the call was dropped but then I heard a small chuckle through the light buzz of static. “Yeah, whatever. Just stop moping around.”

Woohyun had the most uncomfortable pair of thighs I had ever come across in my entire life, but I laid on them regardless. It was just something we did sometimes. We were sprawled out on the living room floor — or at least I was; Woohyun was sitting with his back stiff against the front of the couch, my head in his lap, his hands in my hair. While his thighs may have been hard as cemented bricks, his fingers were heaven threading through my hair. Eyes glued to the variety show we watch together every week, he curled a particularly lengthy strand around a finger and said I was due for a haircut. I pinched the meat of his leg. I didn’t need a haircut. What I needed was for him to shut up because I couldn’t hear the television.

He continued to play with my hair, infatuated like an infant getting their hands in a bowl of spaghetti. I didn’t know what was so interesting about it but it was as if he found every possible reason to touch my hair. Sometimes he made jokes about how I should be in a shampoo commercial; other times he didn’t say anything at all and just played with it, avoiding my eyes when I asked him about his strange obsession.

Woohyun was in the middle of threatening to get the scissors when my phone rang, vibrating against the carpet on the other side of Woohyun’s legs. I looked at it but couldn’t see the caller ID and therefore made no attempt to reach for it. Woohyun, probably noticing how I was going to ignore the call, picked up my phone instead, answering the call and bringing the device up to his ears.

“Good evening, Myungsoo.”

Gasping, I shot upright. Woohyun looked down at me and raised an eyebrow. I seriously hoped he wasn’t going to play around and potentially ruin my newborn relationship. Holding out my hand, I silently begged for my phone to be returned.

“This is his housemate, Woohyun. Sungyeol’s in the bathroom at the moment.”

Digging my teeth into my bottom lip, I started to whine, desperate for my phone. Woohyun slapped his hand over my mouth and pushed my head back down into his lap, mouthing for me to shut up.

“Yeah, I’ll be sure to tell him and have him get back to you.” And then Woohyun hung up and tossed my phone behind him onto the couch.

His hand was still over my mouth and I parted my lips to drag my tongue along his palm. When he recoiled in disgust, I wasted no time in bombarding him with questions about the short-lived phone call. Wiping his hand on the bottom of the front of the couch, he glared at me, saying how he should just not tell me what Myungsoo said. I knew he wasn’t being serious but I panicked anyway, scrambling to my knees and straddling him with my hands on his shoulders. Shaking him, I tried to not let my hysteria get the better of me. Knowing that my love called but I didn’t get to be apart of the conversation because of a foolish Woohyun was causing the butterflies to act up. I could feel them fluttering around in the pit of my stomach. I feared that if Woohyun didn’t tell me what Myungsoo called for I was going to vomit all over him because of the nausea stirring up inside me like a tropical storm growing into a hurricane.

He sighed and told me that Myungsoo wanted to know if I was free during the weekend. He wanted to go out. The anxiety transformed into elation but the butterflies didn’t stop their rampage throughout my body. Trying to stand, I didn’t notice when Woohyun’s hands settled onto my waist and I looked down at him when I realized his touch. He stared at me blankly as if he didn’t notice a problem with our position. Granted, there wasn’t really a problem. We’ve been in a couple compromising positions before and something like this was second nature but that didn’t stop my face from heating as it usually did when I noticed we were a little too close.

I watched him run his tongue over his lips, felt his fingers press harder against my bones. He looked content enough to stay like this forever. I, on the other hand, wasn't as comfortable.

“Do you mind?” I asked after swallowing the large lump of nervousness that was clogging my throat.

He blinked and something flashed through his eyes. Suddenly it was as if he was seeing me for the first time in these past three minutes.

“Oh. Sorry.” He let go and put his hands behind his back. Crawling from over him, grabbing my phone, and pacing to my room, I tried to ignore the chill caressing my sides, sure it was the work of my imagination and not my body missing the warmth of his palms.

Myungsoo slipped his hand into mine and looked at me with an award-winning smile; I thought it was funny how I was nothing compared to his everything but it was me he showered with sweet quirks of his lips and soft, cashmere kisses, and not someone else. Not someone better. I wished I was better. He deserved someone more than me — some skittish sophomore way too engrossed in his studies who still acted like his common sense hadn’t developed since he was a pubescent boy. I wondered what he saw in me, if he liked the awkward crack to my laugh or how my face would flush ever so little when Professor Qian berated me. I wondered if he saw the butterflies fluttering along summer breezes in my stomach and if he knew they were in a frenzy because of him.

Fighting warming cheeks, I smiled back, hoping my nerves didn’t show clear on my face. Glancing at the public bus we just stepped off of, I asked him where we were going and why he didn’t drive. He only told me that driving took the suspense out of the trip. I said it didn’t. He laughed.

“Stop worrying, Sungyeol. I’m not going to take you any place where you would feel unsafe,” he said but I wasn’t exactly reassured.

Trying to fend off innate paranoia, I watched the branches and the leaves of the trees sway in the warm spring breeze. Buds had formed weeks ago and now the sidewalks were littered with small, pretty petals in pastel pinks and pure whites. I wanted a picture, my adoration for nature taking hold and making me want to stop and stare. Maybe when whatever this was ended I could come back.

That was how I spent the short ten minute walk from the bus stop and through the suburban area somewhere outside the city: observing the trees and the flowers and listening to the chirp of the birds, the buzz of the bees. As we trekked through the small patch of grass probably considered a front yard leading up to a quaint, cookie-cutter house, I tugged on Myungsoo’s hand, once again bringing up the question of our whereabouts. He only shook his head as he pulled out a key from his pocket and opened the door.

“Who is that coming in the door?” A woman’s voice rung out from upstairs before Myungsoo even had a chance to close the door behind us.

“It’s me, mom,” Myungsoo replied, leading me into a wide sitting room. “I’ve brought someone for you to meet.”

Oh. Oh no, this couldn’t be what I thought it was. I couldn’t be meeting his parents. We’d only been together for a week and a half. Surely, it was too early. I squeezed his hand as he pushed me onto a pristine white leather couch. He looked at me with a raised eyebrow. I asked him what he was thinking, if it was alright for me to be here. What if his mother didn’t like me? What if I said something offensive. What if—

He told me to calm down but that was easier said than done. I could hear his mother coming down the stairs.

“Is this the famous Sungjong you’re always talking about? I’ve been waiting to meet the boy.” His mother was all smiles and undeniable charm when she strolled into the room. Her hair was in loose curls and if she had on makeup, it was in such perfect natural tones that I couldn’t tell.

Myungsoo sighed as he walked over to hug her. “It’s Sungyeol, mom. I’ve been telling you this for days.”

She eyed me as she returned the hug. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’m terrible with names,” she said, peeling away from her son and gliding over to me with the utmost grace. I was terrible with first impressions but his family was too perfect. They bought him a car for his birthday, they took a family trip to Italy, they had real leather couches. I liked to pretend there wasn’t a gap between us, but there was. And it might as well have been a trench.

I shook my head. “It’s no problem, Mrs. Kim.”

She looked down at me, a frown tugging at her face. I panicked. Did I say something wrong? Is she not married? Should I have called her miss instead of missus?

“What are you still sitting down for? Get up and give me a hug.” She waved her arms, signaling me to rise.

Mouth gaping open, I stood and allowed the woman to bring me into her arms. I looked at Myungsoo over her shoulder. I didn’t appreciate the way he was laughing at me, his eyes crinkling with the width of his gorgeous smile.

As soon as she let me go, she stomped over the Myungsoo, slapping him on the side of the head. It was my turn to laugh. “Why didn’t you tell me you were bringing him over? I could have made dinner or ordered in.”

“We had lunch before we came over,” Myungsoo explained, holding the side of his head. “Plus, I wanted it to be a surprise. I didn’t tell him either.”

“He surely didn’t,” I muttered under my breath, crossing my arms over my chest.

Myungsoo looked around his mom at me, asking what I just said. I waved my hand, telling him it wasn’t anything important, just a small side comment. Shrugging, he motioned for me to follow him, telling his mother they’d be in his room if she wanted to harass me more. She said if she didn’t here from us in an hour she would check in, making us promise we wouldn’t be up to anything naughty while she was in listening range.

“I think she likes you.” Myungsoo collapsed onto his bed as soon as we walked into his room. I stood in front of his closet awkwardly, looking around the room. It was pretty empty but that made sense because he lived on campus so most of his stuff had to be there. There were photos of everything I could think of hanging up on his grey painted walls: the shore, flowers, random people, beat up cars, himself. The floor was tidy, the tops of his desks and drawers were neatly arranged. It was a good thing we didn't go to my house. I was sure Daeyeol went into my room just to mess it up for when I came home.

I jumped when he asked if I was just going to stand around, patting the space next to him. Gingerly, I climbed onto the bed, laying down next to him. He immediately tossed his arm around my waist, pulling me into his body until I half laying on top of him. I tried to roll off of him, complaining that I picked up a lot of weight in the last couple of weeks and I was probably making it hard for him to breathe, but he wormed his free arm between us, silencing me with a finger pressed against my lips. That was beginning to look like a trend. First, Woohyun, then Myungsoo. He replaced his finger with his own lips, just a peck that was ever so light. And then another that was slightly firmer. And another more so than the last until his tongue was curled around mine, my fingers were busy with his hair, and I was forgetting to how to breathe.

Momentarily unable to figure out how to get air to my lungs through my nose, I broke the kiss. Myungsoo looked at me with confusion knitting his brows. Smiling gently, I leaned down to peck his nose before separating myself from him. Cheeks a blaring stoplight red, I spurred on a game of twenty questions.

I didn’t notice when I fell asleep but when I woke up I was tucked tight beneath Myungsoo’s blankets. My love was out of the room. I wondered how long I had been here; there was no clock in his room. My phone told me it was around eight in the evening. It also told me I had three missed calls and two unread texts from Woohyun. They were simple, just asking where I was and what time I was going to be home tonight. The voicemail messages were the same (though in the last one Woohyun threatened to spray my butterflies with bleach if I didn’t call him back within thirty minutes. Thankfully, that call was logged from seven minutes ago. I rolled my eyes. He was worrying again. I was a perfectly capable adult. He didn’t need to worry so much about me.

Slipping out of the bed, I dialed his number as I left the room to search for Myungsoo. Barely two steps down the hall, I ran into a boy who could only be Myungsoo’s brother.

“Who’re you?” He looked me up and down. “You one of Myungsoo’s things?”

Unsure of what he meant by ‘things’, I shrugged.

He snorted. “Who was it?”

I would have questioned him on his cryptic words if it wasn’t for the voice streaming through the receiver of the phone.

“Yeol?”

“Oh, sorry, Woohyun.”

Moonsoo made a noise of acknowledgment, nodding his head as he patted me on the shoulder before continuing down the hall and disappearing into one of the rooms.

“Where are you? I almost called your mom and told her you were kidnapped and sold to the Prince of Wales.”

I made a face even though Woohyun couldn’t see it. “I’m at Myungsoo’s house.”

“How’d you end up at his house?” Something in his tone changed just the slightest.

Sighing, I leaned against the wall outside Myungsoo’s room. “I have no idea. He wanted me to meet his parents.”

Woohyun mumbled something to himself. I asked him to speak louder.

“Don’t worry about that. Just talking to myself,” he said. “Anyway, aside from me being worried sick, I wanted to tell you one of your moths —”

“Butterflies.”

“One of your winged creatures is flying around in here and I’m not afraid to attack it with a flyswatter if it invades my personal space. See you when you get home.”

He hung up before I could berate him for threatening my babies for the second time in less than an hour.

I ran to catch the next bus back to campus, rushing my goodbyes to Myungsoo, who was staying at his house for the night, and his family. Letting myself into my apartment, I found Woohyun on the couch, drinking a beer, and no rogue butterfly in sight. He glanced over at me when I came in, saying how he didn’t expect me home so soon if I was spending time with Myungsoo. I asked him were the butterfly was, afraid he had actually killed it in the time it took me to get home. He turned back to the soccer game on television and said it was a lie, all of the remaining butterflies were still in the habitat. Knocking him over, I asked how he could do such a thing, knowing how important this project and those butterflies were to me. Forgotten beer spilling out onto the carpet, he grinned that blinding Woohyun grin at me and, as always, I found myself unable to resist smiling back.

the next part should be the last part. unless it gets super duper long and i split it into two.

any and all mistakes will be fixed later.