Friend.

You and Junho are trying your hardest to be friends.  You like that word – friend.  The word didn’t weigh too heavily on you both.  It demands nothing.  It expects nothing.  It was like a neutral ground between strangers and something more intimate and yet much less than lovers.  The passage between less and more.  It was for those who are left unsure, hanging.  Even though you harbor feelings for each other, you couldn’t be lovers, but neither would want to be a stranger to the other.  So being friends was just right.  Not too hot, not too cold.  You have finally come to understand that the feelings you carry for Junho clashed in contradiction, it was like experiencing heaven and hell together, being in pure bliss one minute and then the next in utter disappointment.  The conflict of your emotions, the confusion of wanting him, but not wanting to get your heart bruised again was the main reason you have decided to just be friends…not that you can be anything more anyway even if you want to.

The expression on your face when he showed up at your door burned into his memory.  He was the last person you expected to see at your door at this hour.  It’s 3:20 in the early morning.  And it made you recall how your father kept reminding you that peepholes are installed in doors for a reason.  And that it would be wise to use it before opening a door.  But you never heeded his advice.  Ever since you can remember you found it too creepy, like an evil ghost with apples would be waiting for you on the other side.  Today wasn’t a good time for a friend to come by – specifically for Junho to come knocking at your door.  Your head was already aching from the events that happened the past week, the elevator, the library and you are not entirely sure if you could take anymore, your self-restraint and resolve might falter if you keep seeing him like this.

“Hi!”  Junho smiles as he rested his side on the doorway.  He wore a black shirt and a pair of grey denim jeans that had rugged edges at the end.  He gave off the feeling that he just got back from a day’s work.  While you in your pajamas gave off the feeling that you just woke up.

You swallowed heavily before speaking.  “Too loud?”  Your voice came out almost like a whisper.

Junho laughed and the sound loosened a few tight nerves in your body.  “Not at all.”  He shook his head lightly.  “What have you been doing that you think you’re being too loud?”  He teased.  “And don’t you wear those nice lingerie anymore?”

You rolled your eyes and dismissed his question and asked your own.  “Then you’re here at this hour because?”  You asked and you could swear his expression changed as he detected a hint of happiness mixed with relief in your voice.

“Oh, right!  Soy bean paste.”  He rushed to answer.  “I was going to make late dinner or early breakfast or whichever, but I’m lacking the soy bean paste, so I was thinking maybe I could borrow some.”

“Do I look like someone who would have that in my fridge?”  An incredulous brow shot up as you spoke.  “I can’t even fry properly.”

“Then do you want to go out and grab dinner or breakfast with me?”  He smiled again as he watched your face relax.  “There are a few good places I know that are open 24 hours.”

“Can’t.  Right now’s not a good time.”  You said sadly, hoping your tone conveyed the remorse you felt at rejecting his offer.

“I’m hungry and you don’t look like you’re doing anything or will be going out for the night.  It’s rude to avoid friends you know.”  He said in a fake stern voice, feigning a scolding expression as he pushed the door wider.  Your place was filled with a spicy delicious aroma that made his mouth water making him look at you, his eyes narrowed as he his lips.  “You’re cooking?  It smells really good.  What are you -”

“Hey!  I need bowls.”  Panic kicked you in the stomach as you heard the man who suddenly appeared from your kitchen speak.  Noticing you and Junho at the door, he stopped.  “Sorry, I didn’t realize we have company.”  He started to walk to where you are.

Junho froze and stood unmoving as he eyed the man holding the wooden spoon in your flat.  He was tall and quite handsome although he seemed to have a few years on him.  He was dressed in a blue slim straight jeans and a white sweater with the sleeves pushed up his elbows.

The word ‘we’ rang in Junho’s ears like an annoying bell that was starting to mess with his head.  ‘We’ used to be you and him, cooking and eating together at your place.  Not you and this stranger, who seemed very comfortable with you.

Junho then gave you a look that you were sure translated to ‘who the hell is this guy and what is he doing here’.  And didn’t make you miss the subtly stiffening of Junho’s jaw as the man stood behind you resting his hand on the small of your back.

“Bowls are on the top right shelf.”  You gestured helplessly.  Junho could not help but watch your fingers wrap into the man’s shirt and give it a tug.

The tall man beside you cleared his throat.  “Aren’t you going to introduce us?”  The man smiled making you feel all the more flustered and Junho all the more annoyed.

“Yes.  Of course.”  You looked at him and then at Junho and then in a deep breath before the introductions.  “This is Peter.  Dr. Peter Chung.  He lives just across the hall.  And this is Junho.  I think you’d be quite familiar with Junho Lee from 2PM.  He lives directly below me…or directly below my flat…or however you want to put it.”  You said stumbling through the words.  “Junho’s met your grandmother I believe.”

Peter chuckled at your failed attempt at a good introduction.  “My grandma’s pretty popular in this building, huh?  Anyway, 2PM?  I knew there was someone famous in this building, other than my grandma of course, I just didn’t expect it to be you.”  He smiled, puffing his chest and extending his right hand while Junho’s jaw grinded, a muscle in his cheek twitching over and over.  You were not even sure if he was able to hear half of what you and Peter said.

Junho nodded politely as he released his clenched jaw with a sigh, but left Peter’s handshake hanging.  “Yeah.”  His voice was flat.  Seeing Peter with you hit him like a ton of bricks.  And he hated how your eyes seemed to dance and twinkle as you looked at him.

You shivered as you took in the expression drawn out on Junho’s face.  The shift from the looks he was giving was sending you over the edge.  But deep inside, seeing that jealous expression on his face made you feel good.  If he didn’t react the way he did, then it meant he just doesn’t care even a tiny bit.  But at the same time, you just couldn’t bear to see that sadness in his eyes.

“Right.  Okay then.”  He bit his lips and looked away.  “I’m gonna go.”  The previous playfulness in his tone was gone.

“Junho…”  Your voice came out barely a whisper, trying to hold him back.

“You should join us.”  Peter offered.  “We were just in the middle of –“

“No, thanks.”  Junho said as he locked eyes with you.  “It’s late.  I’m late.  I get that.”  He turns to leave and you close the door behind him.

“Is he going to be okay?”  Peter turned to you with concern written all over his face, his eyebrows rising up questioningly.

“I guess.”  You sighed as you went ahead to the kitchen.  “Now…about those bowls.”  You said walking pass the kitchen counter straight to the cupboard.

Peter stood in front of you and held your shoulders with a deep furrow between his brows.  “Are you guys dating?  Because if you two are, then I hope he didn’t misunderstand anything.”  His features softened as he met your eyes while you nipped at your lips worriedly.  “It’s best if you talk about it before it gets blown out of proportion.  It’s easier to solve misunderstandings while it’s still at a manageable size.”

“We’re just neighbors … friends.”  You shook your head before another knock at the door was heard.

When you opened the door, Junho was there – again.

“Okay.  So, I lied.  I don’t get it.  Not a single bit.”  Junho said with an underlying tone of frustration.  There was that awkward interval of silence that grew between the both of you and you embraced it not having anything to say.  It was deafening as you tried your hardest to consider his words.  You did not have a response and you could not tell if he was even expecting one.  So he continued.  “What’s going on?  Like really.”  He took a deep breath as he ran a hand through his hair.

You stepped out with him into the hall and closed the door behind you.  “What do you want to know?  You said in an emotionless voice.

“It’s four in the morning and you have a guy, who’s old enough to be your father in your flat.  What do you think do I want to know?”  He pulled his lips in between in his teeth as he folded his arms against his chest and placed an indifference mask on his face.

You gave him a scornful look and rolled your eyes.  “Excuse me?  Peter’s barely 30!  How can you call him a father.  He’s not that old!  He’s mature – intellectually…unlike some people.”  You said, the volume of your voice increasing.

“Nice.”  He muttered sarcastically.  “But what the hell are you doing with a man in your place at 4 a.m.?  Are you suddenly seeing him?”

“Is that what this is?”  You asked incredulously.  “Have you suddenly gone all big brother protective and insane on me?”

“No.”  He shook his head.  “I suddenly got really jealous.”  Junho sounded hurt.

You pressed your hand to your forehead, wondering where that suddenly came from.  He makes you so mad sometimes.  Mad for different reasons.  But he could also send your heart fluttering in warmth with just a wink, a smile and a word.  And you sighed thinking this wasn’t healthy at all.  You could not believe he had the ability to wound you and charm you with a flick of his finger.  You are growing so attached to him that it’ll be hard just to stay neutral.

Junho called your name with sigh and the whisper of your name from his lips felt like a light caress on your skin.  You could feel his gaze slicing through you as you looked elsewhere, anywhere, apart from him.  “I don’t want to be your friend.”  He said with a hard set jaw.

“Well, fine with me!”  Your anger was picking up slowly.  “Who wants to be your friend anyway?”  Your tone was devoid of any softness.

“No.  I don’t mean it like that.”  He jumped in to stop you.  “I mean, what I wanted to tell you, what I am trying to tell you…is that…I wanna be more than just your friend.  I can’t take just being your friend.  And that guy in your flat has to go.”  He seemed to be grinding his teeth for control.  Whoever he is…you won’t see him anymore.”  His voice was a sultry dark whisper.  “I need you to be something more than just my friend.”