The small intimate party was in full bloom by the time they started distributing the alcohol. Joonmyeon brought his collection of Portuguese red wine from the finest years between 2005 and 2007. So naturally it wasn’t a surprise when they finished eating and there were seven empty bottles sitting on the counter, leaving the group lounging in the sitting room full, loosened up and happier than usual.

But they weren’t finished yet, not when Baekhyun pulled out the whiskey from his bag and Haneul should’ve suspected something because Baekhyun was never one to carry a bag unless it was his backpack for classes. But it was a Blue Label and Soohyun was already pulling out the ice from the freezer along with the glasses, while the others all looked more satisfied and excited than she’s ever seen them.

So who was she to complain?

It was 11:58 pm and she was once again snuggled against Chanyeol’s with his chest warmly pressed against her back and his arms around her waist. He held his own glass of poison with his left hand while his right was at the side of her lower stomach, drawing lazy circles above her left hipbone. Haneul could feel his fingers leaving trails of fire wherever he touched; even the coarse twill-weave cotton fabric of her denims separating in between did not do anything to lessen the burn.

It didn’t use to be so hard, to be in Chanyeol’s arms without feeling like she was going to combust at any given second. The warm fuzzy feeling that spread across her chest and entire body whenever it held her used to bring her comfort and that was enough for her, but now it was like the feeling was intensified by tenfold and she found herself not being able to pull away.

The burn was only bearable because she was wrapped up in the warmth of Chanyeol’s embrace, and without it, she found herself craving it.

Haneul scoffed at the sheer irony of it all.

She lifted the glass to her lips and took a swig of the liquor. The whiskey felt damn good and smooth going down , the warm kindling feeling it left in her stomach seemed to have subdued the recent restless fluttering and clenching that has been threatening to rip and tear her insides into shreds.

Or maybe it was still there and she was fooling herself just because there was something stronger in her system, something temporary but it was better than nothing. If it meant that she could relax in his arms again like she just managed to, then so be it.

“10…9…8…” The voices were chanting around her, the screen of her television showing the live broadcast of the New Year’s countdown and the bright red numbers flashed at the bottom of the screen.

Haneul sat up, the pair of arms still encircled around her waist. As they counted down she felt the heat that radiated from the body behind her and she couldn’t bring herself to focus on the numbers.

“7…6…”

Jongdae and Baekhyun were already shaking with excitement while the rest of the group focused their attention to the countdown with equal amounts of lively and cheerful joy plastered on their faced and coating their voices.

“5…”

Chanyeol moved closer, his arms tightening around her and he rested the side of his head against hers.

“4…”

She looked down, sighing.

“3…”

The ice clinked against the walls of the glass, now empty.

“2…”

The all too familiar feeling crept back up her chest, her heart skipped a beat when Chanyeol brought a hand to rest over her free one – the one that wasn’t currently clenching onto the empty whiskey glass in a vice tight grip – and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“1!”

Before she was suddenly pulled up from the couch by a pair of arms that wasn’t Chanyeol’s and then engulfed in a hug that wasn’t his, the only thing that her mind registered was the white hot burning feeling she felt when Chanyeol’s lips grazed the shell of her ear as he spoke in a voice that was all too soft and deep for anyone else but her to hear.

She was blindly greeting her friends with New Year wishes as she was passed from different sets of arms, all the while her mind spun was repeating those few words, over and over again in the same voice that has always had a certain ring amidst its baritone richness.<