BANG! BANGBANGBANG! BANGBANG!

I will kill him. I will kill him. I will kill him. I WILL KILL HIM!

BANGBANGBANG!

"JUST A MINUTE! Jeez!" came a muffled call from inside. Hearing his somewhat annoyed voice added fuel to my already-boiling blood. He has the gall to be annoyed? After what he did?!

"What?!" the irritated question came with the faint smell of vanilla and aftershave. Again, after only a couple of hours, he was in front of me, but with only a towel around his waist, and another over his head.

For a second, my mind lagged. I was so relieved to finally get away from him earlier. The war inside me that goes on everytime I'm with him has steadily gotten harder to bear. Being away from him helps a bit. It's the only respite I get. But now, here I am. Jumping into the lake of suffering once again.

"I wasn't holding your hand!" I exclaimed, pushing him aside as I entered the familiar apartment. I know that I should've used a more chill approach, but the moment I saw his caption, I couldn't help but fume. The girls' teasing didn't help one bit.

 "What are you- oh, that."

He sat on the coffee table across from me and proceeded to dry his hair with the towel. 

"Dude, cover up!" I said, holding my hands out to block the view. The towel around his waste was ajar. "Geez."

"It's fine, it's fine. Got boxers on," he said, lightly slapping my hands down. 

I jerked my hand away at his touch. There was a passing look in his eyes, a questioning one that seemed to recognize what I'm hiding. It went as fast as it came, and I secretly breathed a sigh of relief. I'm still safe. I crossed my arms over my chest like that's what I've been intending to do all along. I really need to learn how to be smooth. I narrowed my eyes at him, silently demanding an apology. Or an explanation. Or whatever.

"It was a joke," he said simply.

I narrowed my eyes some more, as narrow as they can get without completely closing them.

"Come on, it was obviously a joke." He continued to rub his hair with the towel.

I really wanted to just grab the towel and strangle him with it. But I'm afraid to touch him. 

Without a word, I got up and walked to his room. I really can't concentrate with him half and so close. I yanked open his closet and fished the first shirt and pair of shorts I can find. Then, I went back to the living room and threw it at him.

"Thanks," he said as he slipped on the shirt. I glared at him.

"You know I was passing you gum," I said after a short silence. "You said you had horrible airplane breath."

"Yeah, but I didn't ask for gum. Was that just an excuse for you to hold my hand?" He replied with a cheeky grin.

Before I realized what I was doing, I lunged at him. Mid-air, I realized how crazy this looked. What the hell am I doing? All because of a photo?

He was surprised, but the surprise turned into a playful smile once again, right when he caught me and somehow maneuvered me back to the couch, facedown. He then assumed a wrestling pose, holding his elbow out like The Rock's "People's Elbow". I scrambled to get out of the way, but he landed on my back, lighter than I expected, and without the elbow. He was chuckling.

"My brother and I used to wrestle like this while we watched WWE," he reminisced. "Of course, I was the one being slammed on. Now I'm glad that I have you to take on that job." He patted my head. I was freaking out in every sort of way.

"Get off me. Get OFF!"

"Fine, fine. You can be The Rock then."

"Henry, get off me," I said in a quieter tone. The war inside me is much worse now, and the security walls I built might just break at any moment. Two hours is too little time to recover from him. Why did I even come here in the first place? I could've just screamed at him over the phone.

Well, maybe you just missed him too much, a voice called out from inside. That's the voice that I need to get rid of. That voice is the instigator, the source of all my problems.

Henry stopped laughing and slowly got up to sit by my feet. He turned to me, worry bubbling behind his eyes. "Hey. You really mad about that?"

I kept still. If I said yes, it would be weirder because I would be making a big deal out of nothing. But if I said no, then why did I just do all that? Or what if...

"I did it as a joke. I thought you'd understand... you know, HenBer thing and all. We need to do fanservice from time to time."

Can't I just rewind everything and stop myself from coming here? Fanservice. It's an idol's fact of life, and also the name of the dull knife that's slowly slicing my heart to pieces. Fanservice. Psssh. Can't I rewind before I hopped on that plane to South Korea?

Secretly, I heaved a steadying sigh and prepared for my counterattack. I may not have won the war yet, but I'm gonna win this battle, at least.

With all the energy I can muster, I pushed myself up to sit beside him. With all the energy I can muster, I put my arm around his shoulder like nothing's the matter, and hold a big grin on my face like this isn't tearing me apart. "Gotcha!" I winked.

He just stared at me for a couple of seconds, with an unreadable expression, and then broke out with a sigh of relief. "Girl, you got me going there."

I hit him playfully as I laughed out loud, hoping that it sounds natural. I jumped up and went to his fridge, pretending to hunt for food when really, I just need to get away. 

"So whatcha doing here anyway? Don't you have schedules today?" Henry asked, leaning back on the couch.

"Came to steal food from you. And get away from squealing girls. They're watching that new hit drama - something with the Sun or whatnot."

A head suddenly popped into the fridge beside mine. It's the most familiar face, a face that I was always grateful to see ever since I came here, a face that was the source of comfort whenever I craved for home. Is it really so wrong for me to like this face, to like it beyond fanservice? My head was freezing but I want to stop time and just look at him for a while.

"You wanna just order in? As you can see, I haven't done my grocery shopping yet. I'm feeling like pizza. What do you want?" He asked with the faintest smile.

"You," I blurted out.

"What?"

"I mean you, whatever you want. You know I eat anything," I hastily corrected, mentally kicking myself. 

"Alright, pizza then!" He half-sang as he extracted his head from the fridge to go find his phone.

Well, I guess that's about as close  to confessing as I'd ever get, right?