[title track: obsession by u-kiss]

chapter 18;

“What are you doing here?” Baekhyun snaps at you when you step away from him.

You straighten your dress and smirk at him. “Studying.” When Baekhyun raises his eyebrows you roll your eyes. “I’m clubbing like everyone else here.”

“Clubbing?” Baekhyun sounds suspicious.

You stare at him for a few long seconds before you just huff and turn away, making your way back to the bar.

You ignore the fact that Baekhyun is hot on your heels and smile at the bartender. “Give me something with Tequila.” You tell him, ignoring the way the bartender raises his brows and smirks at you.

“Rough day?” The bartender asks, sliding you your drink.

“You have no ing idea.” You respond, downing the drink, relishing the sting a bit when it goes down your throat. Then you hear the barstool beside you scrape to the side, an elbow brushing against your arm.

The bartender glances to your side and you watch as his smile drops and he appears incredibly nervous. You stare at him, watching as he fiddles with one of the alcohol dispensers.

“Give me the usual.” Baekhyun says in a smooth voice and the bartender immediately makes his way to the back.

“Are you ing kidding me?” You turn to Baekhyun, frowning at him, the tequila making your filters kind of dissolve immediately.

Baekhyun smirks at you. “Welcome to the Machine, babe.” You stare at your finished drink and fleetingly wonder if Baekhyun had done something to it, when suddenly another drink is placed in front of you. “It’s on the house.” Baekhyun says, casually sipping at his own drink.

You push the glass towards him. “You drink it first.”

Baekhyun looks at you carefully then, his eyes never leaving yours as he takes a sip of your drink. He doesn’t seem to have any bad reaction so you take it from him and down it in one gulp. Baekhyun raises an eyebrow at you and if you squint, you can pretend the dark look in his eyes doesn’t exist. “Are you sure that was a good idea?”

“If you’re going to bother me tonight, then I’m going to need to be as drunk as physically possible.” You tell him, flippantly, your vision blurring slightly.

Baekhyun leans forward, his face too close to yours, “What if I try to kill you or something?” Baekhyun asks in a mockingly sweet voice.

You just shrug at him, reaching for his drink and downing it as you stare at him defiantly. Maybe it’s the tequila, but you honestly don’t care about his threats anymore.

Baekhyun grins at you and you think it looks a bit twisted. “Suit yourself, then.” Baekhyun says before he flags down the bartender and orders a round of shots.

~.~.~.~.~

You’re drunk. You’re really, really drunk. And as you stare at Baekhyun’s flushed face, laughing as he practically crosses his eyes as he gulps down another drink, you can almost pretend like the two of you are not a part of two opposing mafias. Almost.

“Quit staring at me.” Baekhyun slurs, making a face at you, his cheeks red and his eyes sparkling.

“You’re just so ugly. It’s mesmerizing.” You reply, stumbling over the last word because too many syllables.

Baekhyun pouts at you, crossing his arms as he tilts his head at you. “Shut up. You think I’m pretty.”

“Nope.” You respond, dragging out the word as you pick up another shot glass. “Pretty ugly, maybe.” You have to hide the smile when he pouts at you, resembling a kicked puppy.

Then he leans closer to you, lips barely brushing along your jaw and fingers hovering along your back. You shudder involuntarily and he chuckles, his eyes full of dark mirth. “Admit it, Sooyong-ah. You want to me.” Baekhyun breathes against your skin and when you purse your lips, he leans away, cackling as he takes another shot, fingers still lingering at the small of your back, playing with the cloth of your dress.

Maybe it’s the alcohol or maybe it’s the pent up emotions you’ve pushed away for way too long, but whatever the reason is, you snap. You pull away from him, swatting his hand away, before you stumble off the stool. You’re swaying on your feet, now fully aware of how drunk you really are, and you lean forward, the bass of the music pumping loudly in the background. You poke him in the chest with the pointer finger of your uninjured hand. “I don’t want to you. I want to kill you.” You hiss at him, eyes narrowed and head spinning a bit.

Baekhyun just looks down at your finger, eyes amused. “Sounds .” He says, eyebrows rising.

You groan in frustration, shoving at his chest before you turn on your heels, stumbling a bit. You need to get out of here. You can’t deal with his face; you can’t deal with Byun Baekhyun. You try to make your way through the crowd and you’re not entirely sure where the exit is. Everything is sort of blending together and you can’t even really differentiate between right and left, let alone navigate yourself through a dark club. You tumble out of the crowd of sweaty bodies and find yourself at the back of the club, near the bathrooms and a row of doors. You stare at the club, at the crowded darkness, at the headache-inducing strobe lights, and feel incredibly overwhelmed.

You’ve never had a panic attack before but you think this is what it’s supposed to feel like. Your mind is already hazy and your body feels so light, but the panic makes everything so much worse. You can’t breathe, not really, and you think the alcohol in your system is making your emotions ten times more defined. You slump against the cold, brick wall and force your mind to calm down. But it doesn’t work. The music pounds too loudly in your ears. Your body feels too hot. Your vision becomes spotty and you wonder how pathetic you’ll seem when EXO finds you out at the back of their club.

Then there’s a hand curling around yours, filling the spaces between your fingers with their own, and you can’t help but unconsciously grasp at it, gasping for air you’ve somehow ran out of. A hand gently pulls on your waist and your face is pressed up against something firm, a familiar scent engulfing your senses. Something at the back of your mind tells you that you shouldn’t let this happen, that Baekhyun is the one holding you, seemingly guiding you away from the thumping bass and to somewhere that seems so much quieter. Baekhyun is the one holding you like he did that night, fingers carding through your hair as he peppers soft kisses against your forehead. Baekhyun shouldn’t be doing this. You shouldn’t let this happen. It feels like an eternity until you’ve finally managed to figure out how to breathe, the roaring in your ears finally stops as the feeling that the world is going to flatten you recedes.

You let yourself indulge in his gentle touch for a moment too long before you pull away from, scrambling back so there’s a good meter of space between the two of you. You glance around the room before your eyes land on him. There’s a couch in the corner and a few chairs scattered across the room. You figure this is a break room or something. “I didn’t need your help.” You whisper, your voice still a little scratchy. Thank God you didn’t cry, though. That would have been mortifying.

“Right.” Baekhyun replies, rolling his eyes, the softness in his eyes disappearing, “It’s not like you were about to pass out or anything.”

“I don’t need you.” You tell him, quietly, the alcohol in your system making it hard to speak.

“I know.” He says and you wonder if you imagined the bitterness coloring his tone.

“I want to go home.” You blurt out, glancing around the room until you spot the door. You make your way towards it, almost desperately.

“You can barely walk.” He tells you and you know you’re imagining the concern in his tone. “Just sleep on the couch tonight.”

You grimace at him, “No, thanks. I don’t want to wake up with guns in my face. Hangovers are bad enough.” You tell him, nearly twisting your foot on your heels on the way to the door. Baekhyun grabs you before you fall flat on your face and you never knew something like this happened in real life, you’ve always thought it just happened in dramas. But here you are, Baekhyun’s arm around your waist and your heart fluttering in a way that makes you so angry. You yank your heels off, ignoring the pointed look he gives you.

Baekhyun isn’t letting go of you. And when you look up at him, the soft look in his eyes are back, his cheeks tinged pink from the alcohol or something else entirely, you’re not too sure. You want to blame it on the alcohol. You want to blame the fluttering heart and the flushed cheeks and shivers running down to the very tip of your toes on the alcohol, but a tiny part of you knows that that’s not true. You still care about him. You still like him. The alcohol is just making it harder to hide. He’s so close to you and you don’t know who initiates it first and you don’t care.

The next thing you know, your lips are pressed to his, your eyelashes fluttering against your cheeks as his fingers press into your body, tugging you closer. He tastes like vodka and lime and Baekhyun. You’ve forgotten how good he tastes, how good it feels to kiss Byun Baekhyun. His lips are soft and demanding, his fingers feather light against your spine. There’s something heart stopping about the kiss and you think your heart will never beat the same way again, no matter how cliché that sounds. You press into him, abandoning your heels as you thread your fingers through his hair. He pulls away first, his hand pressed to the nape of your neck as his breath fans your face. Your heart is beating so fast it nearly matches the pace of the faint bass thumping beyond the walls of the break room. His eyes are filled with an emotion you can’t quite pinpoint, your hazy mind unable to focus.

“I still hate you.” You breathe, your voice shaky to your own ears.

“Good. At least you’re not stupid.” Baekhyun whispers back, eyes unfathomable. You hate the way your heart seems to drop to your stomach.

Then he crashes his lips into yours and this time the kiss is all teeth and tongue, completely different from the kiss before. It’s more demanding than before, more dominating, and it scares you. You can feel him nibbling along your neck, prying a few moans out of you, but, overall, you know you don’t want this.

You might be drunk, you might like kissing him, but you don’t like this. You don’t like the feeling that anger seems to be fueling him, that the angrier he gets the worse you feel.

So you bring your hands up to his chest and shove him off of you, stepping away from him until your back hits the wall. “No.” You say, quickly, your voice shaking even more than you’d like it to. “I don’t want this.”

Baekhyun stares at you with dark, dangerous eyes and you’re very aware of how angry he is, how angry he had been since he’d found out about your identity. Because you’re sure you feel the same way. For a moment, you wonder if he’ll listen to you.

Then he looks away from you, frowning. “Don’t look so scared. You’re a mafia leader.” Baekhyun says, briskly, his jaw clenched as he stares off to the side.

“I’m not scared of you.” You say and you hate how your voice implies quite the opposite.

Baekhyun’s eyes snap to yours and you watch as his eyes seem to melt, softening significantly, making your heart stutter in that strange way again. He then steps away from you and walks over to one of the shelves in the corner. He opens a drawer and digs through it until he pulls out a folded up quilt. You watch in confusion as he drops it on the couch, along with a gun (which makes you tense). Then he steps away from both the gun and the couch, a tiny smirk playing on his lips. “The couch and the gun are yours for the night. You’re too drunk to go home, so stay.” Then he pauses, pursing his lips as he looks at you. “And don’t accidentally shoot yourself in the face or anything.”

You can’t help but giggle at his worth, a little breathlessly relieved. He smiles at you, genuinely for once, and you momentarily wonder if you’re dreaming. “You don’t have to do this.” You whisper as you make your way to the couch, plopping down into it as you watch Baekhyun step away and towards the door.

“I know I don’t.” He says. “But I want to.” You barely miss his last sentence, blinking at him as his hand tightens around the doorknob.

You watch as he opens the door and suddenly you don’t want him to go. “Stay.” You blurt out, blushing and deciding you’re never going to get drunk ever again. Baekhyun pauses at the door, shoulders a little stiff. You look up at the ceiling when you speak again. “Please, stay.”

The sound of a door clicking shut reaches your ears and your heart is lodged in your throat.

The couch sinks down beside you and you tilt your head to the side and smile at him, blaming it on the alcohol.

~.~.~.~.~

The first thing you notice when you wake up is the heavy arm around your waist. You blink rapidly, rubbing your eyes as you yawn, your head throbbing in pain. There’s a low groan coming from behind you and you nearly scream, turning your head to find yourself face to face with Baekhyun. You don’t even remember how he got there, but here he is, wedged between your body and the couch, legs tangled with yours and arm slung around your waist, face almost peaceful as he sleeps, chest rising against your back.

You try to entangle yourself from him but it’s nearly impossible. You barely manage to pull his arm off of you when he speaks, his tone raspy with sleep. “Stop moving so much, Sooyong-ah. I’m trying to sleep.” Baekhyun murmurs against your neck, making you shiver. You can feel him smirking against your neck and you don’t know what to do.

“Get off of me.” You reply, your voice coming out scratchy and a little raspy from how dry it is.

You squirm in his grasp until he suddenly lets go and you end up tumbling off the tiny couch, hitting the ground hard and wincing when your injured arm smacks against the floor, pain running up your arm. He peeks over the couch, eyes sleepy and hair messy. You frown when you notice his eyes locked on your injured arm. “I’ve been meaning to ask you. What happened?” He asks and he sounds uncaring almost, although he won’t stop looking at your bandaged arm.

“I don’t know. Ask your friends.” You snap at him, pulling yourself off the ground as you glare at him because no matter what happened last night, you still don’t like him. The fact that he looks so adorably ruffled does not affect you in any way whatsoever.

He frowns, his eyebrows furrowing together as he pulls himself off the couch. “What do you me—?”

He cuts himself off when you pick up the loaded gun on the chair, unclipping the safety, and for a moment he looks wary. You look at him, seriously, ignoring the pounding headache and the look of betrayal on his face. “I’m leaving. Don’t follow me.”

“I wasn’t planning on it.” Baekhyun responds, crossing his arms, his shirt slipping off his shoulder in a way that makes you want to throw your arms around him. Wait. No, it doesn’t. You don’t care.

Your fingers are on the doorknob when you pause, completely aware of his eyes boring into your back. You glance back at him. “Thank you, Baekhyun.” You say, quietly, refusing to meet his eyes. “Thank you for last night.”

“I thought you didn’t need me.”

“I don’t.” You snap at him, his twisted smirk making you more than a little angry.

He nods, almost approvingly, and that’s all you need to propel you forwards and out the door, the floor cold against your bare feet.

~.~.~.~.~

“Have fun last night, noona?” A voice calls to you just as you spot the exit and are halfway towards it. You pause, turning on your bare feet and feel incredibly exposed standing there in the middle of the empty club. Jongin is up on the balcony, leaning against the railings, morning sun flooding over him and making him seem almost angelic. His eyes are trained on you and you immediately brandish your gun, watching as he slowly pulls away from the balcony and begins to make his way down the stairs.

“What are you doing here?” You ask, watching as Jongin starts walking towards you, stopping just a meter away from you.

“I could ask you the same thing. I mean. I own this place. You’re trespassing.” Jongin says, his eyes full of fire.

“I was just leaving, Jonginnie.” You respond, a bit mockingly because you have a headache and you’re not in the mood for this.

Jongin’s eyes travel down your body, taking in your obviously messy appearance. Then his gaze pauses just on your neck, where you’re sure you have some kind of mark. You glare at him and he glares right back. “Did you him?” Jongin asks in a sickly sweet tone, making you cringe. Jongin takes a small step towards you, ignoring your raised gun, eyes dark. “Is that your plan? Emotionally ing him wasn’t enough, was it? You just had to go and—”

“Jongin.” Baekhyun’s voice cuts him off and Jongin immediately stops talking, despite the fact that his angry eyes are still pinned on you. He looks like he’s planned about ten different ways to kill you in the last minute. “Kris wants to see us.”

You realize that Baekhyun isn’t looking at you. It’s like he’s pretending you don’t exist. Jongin just scowls at you as you back away from him and towards the exit. Jongin swivels on his heels and pushes past Baekhyun, disappearing into the hall at the back, the sounds of slamming making your head ache.

When you lock eyes with Baekhyun, he looks exhausted. “You’re welcome.” Baekhyun’s voice sounds ancient and his tone implies that he’s talking about more than just the encounter with Jongin.

As soon as the club doors shut behind you, you start running, ignoring the rocks digging into the soles of your bare feet.

~.~.~.~.~

You’re sitting at the lunch table, purposefully ignoring Baekhyun’s elbow occasionally brushing against yours as you have a pleasant (read: manipulative and stressful) conversation with Kris when it happens.

The hairs at the back of your neck stand on end and you glance across the room, locking eyes with your ex-boyfriend, Jihoon. He’s smirking at you and it sends chills down your spine. Especially when he points at you, turning to the boy he’s talking to. You glance at the other kid, subtly, and you’re not entirely sure why he makes you nervous. Maybe it’s the way he’s holding himself, grin wider than Chanyeol’s and eyes a little bit calculating.

And then he looks at you. He’s tall and his dark hair lies in a fringe. There’s something about the way he’s looking at you that makes you think that he knows something. Then he grins at you, all teeth and gums, and you have a feeling that this boy is dangerous.

Your suspicions are confirmed when the boy moves his blazer to the side a bit, his eyes still on you, and you see the handle of a gun protruding from his pocket, a bunny of all things emblazoned on the handle in bright silver. Then he winks at you and you force yourself to look away, eyes landing on Kris.

“Sorry, what were you saying?” You ask as you casually take a bite of your lunch.

Kris looks at you, smirking. His tone is challenging and too knowing for your taste. “A few of my friends are coming to town. I thought you’d like to meet them.”

---

a/n: *GASP*

apparently this week is "attempt (and fail at) fluffy angst" week oh my g od im sorry! also idk how to not end my chapters in cliffhangers anymore

so i've been updating a lot bc it's spring break for me, but well spring break is over soon so then we'll be back to once a month updates maybe. gosh i'm a terrible authornim.

remember:

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