Sungyeol didn’t know what he had been expecting. All he knew was that it sure wasn’t being slapped in the face. Especially from someone he had once – even though it had only been for a short period of time – considered his best friend. What a complete jerk. There is obviously nothing good left in that guy. He’s probably rotten on the inside.

Sungyeol clenched his fists and stared at the wall, since there was not much else to do.

Myungsoo hadn’t showed his face for some time now, and Sungyeol was starting to get hungry again.

Is he punishing me for talking back?

Sungyeol sighed and let himself fall backwards so that he was lying on the bed, looking up at the ceiling. What did I ever do to deserve this?

-

When Myungsoo walked into the room a while later with a plate of kimbap, Sungyeol had fallen asleep. He was lying on his back, breathing slowly, his lips slightly parted.

Myungsoo set the food on the small table and walked carefully over to Sungyeol’s bed. Looking down at him, Myungsoo noticed straight away that his left cheek was red.

He knew he shouldn’t, but he couldn’t help but feel guilty for slapping him. He is in an awful situation, after all. And he doesn’t owe me any manners.

Still, it had felt unpleasant when Sungyeol had called him a jerk. Only a couple of days ago, he would have smiled at Myungsoo with sunshine in his eyes.

Now, on the other hand… basically throwing daggers at me.

It was unavoidable, of course; Myungsoo knew that. Who wouldn’t hate the person that was keeping you imprisoned inside a locked room?

-

When Sungyeol woke, the first thing he noticed was that Myungsoo was there, sitting on the couch. The second thing he noticed was a plate of kimbap on the table. The third thing he noticed was that Myungsoo was asleep, his head tilted back.

Sungyeol got up and walked over to the table. A small post-it note was stuck next to the plate:

Eat up. It’s good.

Sungyeol stared at the note, wondering why in the world Myungsoo would bother to write something like that.

-

“You forgot water,” Sungyeol said as soon as Myungsoo opened his eyes.

The former was sitting on the bed with his feet crisscrossed. Myungsoo looked over at the table and saw that the kimbap was gone.

“So you ate it,” he remarked, relieved.

“You forgot water,” Sungyeol repeated.

“Did you like the food?” Myungsoo asked.

“Why does that matter?”

“So I know if I should bring it again.”

“…” Sungyeol closed his mouth, not knowing what to say.

“So did you like it or not?”

“… I liked it,” Sungyeol grumbled.

“Then I’ll bring some more later.”

“I’d rather you bring some water.”

“I’ll bring that too.”

“Good then.”

“Okay then.”

“…”

They sat in silence for a while, neither having anything in particular to say.

“Is it too cold in here?” Myungsoo blurted out suddenly.

“Huh?” Sungyeol looked at Myungsoo, seemingly puzzled by the question.

“Are you cold in here?” Myungsoo rephrased.   

“… a bit.”

“Okay then,” Myungsoo said, looking away.

“Why do you ask?” Sungyeol inquired warily.

“No reason.”

“Okay…”

“I’ll go now. I’ll be back later,” Myungsoo informed, rising and walking toward the door. Sungyeol watched as his captor unlocked the locks, walked out, and relocked them again.

When Myungsoo came back, he was carrying two bottles of water, a black plastic bag and a thick, gray blanket.

“Here,” he said, and threw the blanket over to Sungyeol. The latter, surprised by the sudden move, jumped from the bed he had been sitting on and barely caught the blanket before it hit the ground.

“I brought some more kimbap,” Myungsoo informed, pulling out a see-through box filled with small rolls of rice and seaweed from the black plastic bag. “And water.”

Sungyeol stared longingly at the water bottles, and after a moment he took a hesitant step towards Myungsoo, as if asking for permission.

“I’m not gonna eat you, you know,” Myungsoo said drily.

“Well, you’ve kidnapped me already, so how am I supposed to know what else you’ll do?” Sungyeol shot back, though he took the remaining steps towards Myungsoo and grabbed one of the bottles of water, taking a big swig.  

“It’s not like you’ll stay here forever,” Myungsoo muttered.

“You sound like you’re offended that I’m angry at you for kidnapping me…” Sungyeol said, raising his eyebrow.

“Like I care whether you’re angry with me or not,” Myungsoo scoffed.

“Well, I am.”

“Don’t care.”

“Of course you don't. You’re a j-“ Sungyeol stopped abruptly, his eyes nervously glancing toward Myungsoo.

Myungsoo stared back, his eyes suddenly colder.

“You’re a gentleman,” Sungyeol rephrased quickly, knowing Myungsoo could see right through him. Crap. Sungyeol closed his eyes, waiting for the slap that was sure to follow.

It didn’t come though. Instead, he heard footsteps followed by a door opening and slamming shut, and when he finally dared to open his eyes, Myungsoo was already gone.

-

While Sungyeol sat on his hard bed and thought about how much he disliked Myungsoo, Myungsoo walked down a dark street, bothered by the fact that Sungyeol clearly disliked him and that there was nothing he could do about it, and even more bothered by the fact that he was bothered about it.