Kyungsoo doesn’t know what to make of all this. In the span of the twenty-four years of life spent in this world, he had never been in such a state of confusion, and it was all because of him.

            Confusion does not even describe the coalescence of varying emotions very much ablaze in him; only they weren’t visibly shown for the world to see, and most importantly – for Jongin to see.

            It was true that he was confused. Confused, because he doesn’t know why Jongin, of all people, would cross his path once again. Was God or some other higher power playing a trick on him? Was Kyungsoo destined to meet Jongin again, or was this all a game of coincidence, of life?

            And yet, the confusion that was slowly crawling under his skin was overpowered by another emotion that Kyungsoo himself has experienced numerous times before, with numerous people, all who have left him feeling abandoned, unloved.

            When Kyungsoo first opened his door only to be met with the tall, strapping figure of Jongin, beads of sweat trickling from his forehead to his neck, huffs of breath and heavy pants escaping his mouth, the first that Kyungsoo had felt was not confusion, nor anger. But rather, attraction.

            The deep, instantaneous attraction had succeeded in embedding itself into Kyungsoo’s mind, lodged in the back of his thoughts throughout the whole time that he was in Jongin’s presence.

            Jongin was taller, much taller than him, and had a figure that wasn’t too robust or too lean for his liking. Kyungsoo likes that.

            Jongin was kind, and he spoke in soft and gentle voices, never raising the volume of voice, and his eyes always had a glint to them that hinted vulnerability. Kyungsoo loves that.

            But perhaps what has kept the violent inferno of emotions in Kyungsoo’s heart burn on was the fact that Jongin had chosen to stay, and something tells Kyungsoo that he’s not leaving any time soon.

            Both literally and figuratively.