It was a combination of relief and disappointment when I wake up alone. A part of me wished that the night before had been just a queer dream. I never did wake up being carried off back home. It would have been better that way; I would have never thrown up on Jaebum and awkward wouldn’t have been a part of seeing Daehyun this morning.

But judging the side of the bed next to me, ruffled and abandoned, it was obvious last night had happened.

I’d ed up.

Groaning, I hoisted myself up, rubbing the heel of my hands into my temples. Hangovers, god’s punishment for the idiots like me who couldn’t hold down their alcohol. I should have never agreed with Himchan to go to Yongguk’s birthday party.

Checking my phone, blinking flashes of blue light, I noted the ten texts that had rolled in. Half of them were from Himchan, the other half from Jaebum.

“Youngjae?”

Looking back up, whimpering at the sudden crack to the silence – Daehyun had never been quite the silent type, but never before had it bothered me until now – I watched as my housemate slip into the room, an amused smile on his lips and a glass of water in his hands.

“I totally called it. You’ve got a hangover.”

He was amused at my pain. If it didn’t hurt to move, I might have been tempted to hit him.

“Just give me the painkiller, please.”

Killing would have to wait until my headache was gone.

Laughing, though he’d said that he wouldn’t do a thing to help me the night before, Daehyun handed me the tiny pills, passing the glass of water over once the drug had been dumped into my mouth. I took several gulps of the thing before setting it down by the nightstand. By the time I’d leaned back in bed, Daehyun had joined me on the other side, mumbling something about the morning weather.

And maybe I should have freaked now, shoving him off the bed; but it felt too natural, to have Daehyun cuddle under the sheets with me. Maybe a little too natural.

“Himchan called by the way,” Daehyun sighed, twisting over on his side to stare at me, a placed smirk coloring his lips. The smirk told me that Himchan would barge into our house until I called him within the next ten minutes. “He said that he wants his baby brother to report to him as soon as he’s awake.”

“Well, if he calls again, I died in my sleep.”

If Himchan was going to come, then let him. It’d be easier to poke at his guilt when he could actually see the pain he’d put me in.

Daehyun laughed, again, he was laughing a lot lately. I liked his laughing. And being as contagious as it was, I found myself laughing with him, clutching the side of my head again in minutes to the not as amusing shrill ringing that sounded in my head. A glare was enough to shut him up again.

“So, do you remember anything from last night? Did Jaebum bother you again, because if he did, I wouldn’t mind punching him again; I miss that idiot anyways, would give me an excuse to hunt him down.”

Missing someone and punching them were two whole different things. “Shut up,” I huffed lightly, unable to hide the smile that curled at the corner of my lips.

For a minute, I decided to sit still on the question; Daehyun let me.

I didn’t particularly want to remember a single thing the night before. Usually, when someone became as drunk as I did, they forget everything. I didn’t. I remembered every little thing.

From the way I’d sat through my far too many shots – the bartender watching me funny as I continued to order more, hissing each and every time at the less than pleasant taste – to the way Jaebum seemed unable to keep his hands off of Jinyoung. I don’t know what hurt more: the burning in my throat from the vodka or my heart.

Oh and the kiss.

“I got blasted drunk, didn’t I?”

Daehyun nodded, his dark eyes careful on me. I knew what he wanted to hear from me.

And I wasn’t going to give it to him.

“I threw up on Jaebum.”

“That’s right, you threw up on him,” he seemed amused at this, almost pleased at the mental image of his childhood friend covered in my stomach acid and our dinner from the night before. “On his favorite shirt too.”

Well whoops. I shrugged, pulling my lips up to an unknown smile. I don’t know why I was smiling. I’d ruined my past boyfriend’s – whom I still haven’t completely gotten over – shirt, his favorite shirt none the less. But the way Daehyun seemed to smile, laughing, was contagious.

“And?” Daehyun pressed, his laugh falling short, and eyes eager. “Do you remember anything else?”

I did.

We showered.

We kissed.

I’d ruined everything, our friendship.

“No,” I in a deep breath, closing my eyes. “No, I don’t remember anything else.”

There was a sigh from the space beside me, the shifting of the blankets indicating his shift back onto his back. Now, he was staring back up at the ceiling with me, blankly reading the toy glow-in-the-dark stars we’d stuck up there on my first week into the new house.

“Am I supposed to remember something?”

I wanted him to start the conversation.

But at the same time, I didn’t want him to push it onto me; I wasn’t ready, not yet.

What if Daehyun was only playing?

There was another pause, the air turning stiff for a minute as the both of us froze. I held my breath, in my lower lip. If Daehyun told me what had happened the last night, the every little detail I could still remember, what would I say? Where would I run then, if he decided to laugh at me again?

I wasn’t ready for this.

I would never be ready.

Turning my head, I turned to glance over at Daehyun, finding that he was already looking at me. He was smiling, per usual, but this time, it didn’t seem to reach his eyes like it did when he was happy; when he was around me.

“It’s alright; I can wait until you remember.”

-  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -

a big thank you to everyone that commented and 
stuck around. this story would have never been
completed without each and every one of you.

♥