Oxymoron

                 “Famous Korean boy band, Li’l Bang’s POP revealed he is a devil,” the reporter’s from my switch-on television reached my ears. At the mere mention of the last word, I cringed and my fingers held tighter to the patience I was holding. “Last night at the Sang Baek Awards, after receiving the Best Male Artist of the Year award, POP announced through microphone, ‘I am a devil. And I’ve lived through my years through the suffering of others. I’m sorry for making sins, but this was how I was born…” The rest of her report, I didn’t bother to hear.

                After that, I walked towards the refrigerator, opened it and lingered my fingers around the handle of a glass pitcher. After successfully pulling the pitcher out of the frigid box, I walked over the counter to grab a glass. Leaning into the counter, I poured myself a glass of cold milk.

                My hands shook causing me to spill some milk here and there. After successfully filling the glass full, I brought it to my mouth and drank the cold milk. My world was muted, and not a sound was audible—not even a drop of a needle. I continued on my assault of chugging down the glass of milk and another glass, and another and another until I realized the pitcher was already out of milk.

                My thoughts drifted away from that male artist. During the past months, confessions of being devils increased, with a message each confession carried, “Devils are not sinners.” Of course, I was offended by these confessions and no matter whatever message they carry I was still offended that these people revealed more and more information from one confession to another. The least I could be grateful about was resigning as the main vocalist of EXO. At least, not being an artist anymore would bring me and my beloved some privacy.

                My world was un-muted and the sound from my still-switched on television then reached my ears once again. “Beware of these monsters. They cause you no good but harm. Heartless monsters who lived the glory of making other suffer. Your best friend or the person standing right next to you, you never know when—“ And my whole world became muted again. I stared at the woman on my television screen. As she ranted about these monsters more and more, the more she would gulp, turn her eyes away or unconsciously cover from time to time. She was uncomfortable. Perhaps was she lying? Her frequent look-away’s and rolling eyes told me so.

                Her statements made me lose control. I slapped the pitcher and the glass on the counter angrily as I walked around my couch to find the remote control. I looked under the sofa, on the piles of papers scattered around but I didn’t. As soon as I found it, I furiously pressed the ‘On/Off’ button and threw the remote right in the middle of the screen. The glass broke right away and I was grateful for my body being constructed this way — strong — but not for the way of how it lives by the misery of others.

                I threw my head on the head rest after being satisfied with my work and put my legs on top of the table filled with papers. My eyes wandered on the ceiling and back at the screen of the television, scattered, broken, glass. I was only wearing a bathrobe and my hair was still dripping wet after the shower I took. But I cared less to get dressed at the moment. My heart was uncomfortably beating and I felt tired after another useless report.

                Curse my body and how I was born. I hated the fact I needed to make someone miserable no matter how much they meant to you, I hated the fact that my body was a devil while my soul was, well, normal. My body and my soul defied against each other. My need and my want contrasted right from the time I was born. I was a living example of an oxymoron which exterior and interior was against each other. I was a living oxymoron.

                The doors opened loudly and a crying woman came right after. She was running towards me and I could practically hear her muffled cries of agony. I felt my body had been boosted by her misery but my heart lurched at the sight of her tears. She jumped onto me and wrapped her arms around my waist. I wandered my hands around her back although I wasn’t supposed to. Her hands were in great contact of my dampened bared skin, while her exposed legs were rubbing against mine.

                 “B-Baekhyun…,” she called out my name softly. And it made me twitch… down there. She looked at me straight to the eyes. “T-The doc-doctor told me to pull off the life support,” she managed to say in between sobs. Her eyes looked like they were tired of crying… Her lips looked like they long for kisses… “What should I-I do?” she then asked. I kept silent not knowing what to answer and just stared at her eyes. But I then later realized that she was waiting for an answer.

                In oppose to the want of not disappointing her, I answered later then. I pulled my right hand away from her back and placed it right above her chest area. “Follow your heart,” I simply replied with a tone I never knew I would ever use. She then cried again, and I felt as if I failed of comforting her. But when she planted a passionate kiss on my jaw, my theory reciprocated.

                 “You think so?” she asked again. And I gave her a nod as a response. And after that, she buried her face against my chest and cried her tears out. She brought her face closer to mine, and I went to stuck strands of hair on the back of her ear.

                 “B-Baekhyun… T-Thanks for being there for me.” She moved her hands from my waist to my neck and pulled me closer to her, and I practically felt her breaths against my skin. I just smiled. Of course, I would always be there for her because I love her. I felt her head rest on my shoulders, and I let my hands which were on her waist lowered down.

                My palm travelled on her bare skin right past her skirt, loving the touch of her soft skin. She then lifted her head from my shoulders and kissed me lovingly. I kissed her back. At first, the kiss was dry but when she my lower lip, I let her inside my mouth. She let me explore her lower region as much as she continued her assault to my mouth.

                 “I love you… Baekhyun,” she whispered against my ears sensually in between kisses. And that was when I went over her boundaries and caressed the skin under that sheer clothing. My lips left a trail of kisses from her lips to her nape, down her neck, leaving a hickey on her soft spot.

                I let the words escape my mouth, “I love you.” Of course, I loved this woman. She was all means of my life. Without her, I am still possibly a heartless demon wandering as an artist of South Korea.

XoxoX

                We were walking side by side along the empty hallways of this hospital. Our footsteps echoed and bounced back and forth the empty walls. It’s funny how before I met her, I had a heart attack whenever I come in contact with a hospital floor. But now, I am more than willing to get inside an hospital as long as she needed me.

                Her hand was shaking and trembling under my hold. I knew she was nervous for this; she wasn’t ready for such thing. But she managed to bravely overcome her fear and even come here.

                I held her shaking hand tighter as we neared the destined room. Feeling my sudden move, she glanced at me with a bewildered expression as if asking me why I did that. My feet did a quarter turn to face her and answered, “Don’t forget that I will always be here.” with a manner I never thought would be useful.

                She looked up at me and held my other hand with hers, and a smile popped on her face. “Thank you, Baekhyun,” she spoke to me with much sincerity in her voice. And her hands freed mine but later crept to my back. She pulled me tight and hugged me in a passionate manner. “I love you, I love you,” she repeated again and again. And I couldn’t careless but to hug her back and say my ‘I love you’s’ as well.

                After that, her hands and body became stable and she was no more shaking.

                As we step near the door, just a meter away from it, she shook once again. I had to wrap my arms around her waist to keep her from shaking. It was my job after all, to keep her safe and comforted. I’ve devoted myself on that job ever since I came in good terms with her — which was when I first met her.