Something was off.

Jihun couldn't explain the weird tingling in his tummy, the one he felt right before there would be an unexpected turn of events for the worst, hence he knew that he had to do something about it.

He lazily flicked through the channels on his television, comfortably lounging on his couch after a satifying dinner out at the nearby Japanese restaurant with his oldest and longest friend. They had finally wrapped things up for the semester and as per their tradition, they agreed to meet up on their very last day for a hearty meal before heading back to either one of their dorms for a night of cheesy films and meaningful talks under the warmth and safety of fluffy blankets.

But throughout their two bowls of steaming hot udon and little plates of sushi, said friend only offered single-worded answers and a couple of shrugs or grunts as a response to his questions. Usually their conversation would flow much more smoothly - so smoothly, in fact, that they would always end up abandoning the poor bowls of delicious food completely. Tonight, however, was different. Call him crazy, but their friendship dated back to kindergarten days, and Jihun knew better than to just dismiss her lack of words as plain fatigue, which she tried (and failed) to convince him earlier in the evening. 

He finally settled on a rerun of the Bachelorette, his eyes resting on the lines of attractive, desperate men clothed in suits of various colours and designs while his mind paid no heed to the repeated pining of roses onto lapels, deciding instead to wander elsewhere. He turned down the volume and peeked around the corner at the corridor that led to the bathroom with knitted eyebrows. Having heard the melody of water splashing against the white bathroom tiles, he felt somewhat relieved. At least she was still showering and most importantly, alive.

Or was she?

He threw his body off the couch as though it was lava and scrambled towards the bathroom, an alarming amount of panic making its way through his bloodstream. "Hey!" He yelled, utterly fearful. "! Answer me, you !"

The only reply he got was a scream and the sound of a small object falling and clattering to the floor. With his thinking fuzzy and breathing irregular, he didn't even bother to check whether she was properly covered up before bursting through the bathroom door (which, thankfully, had no locks). The sight he was met with made him wish on every shooting star he'd ever came across that this gut feeling of his would stop being 100% accurate every single time.

Because there she sat, weak and frail, hastily covered with a thin towel, with blood rapidly flowing out of a long slit on the inner side of her left wrist. 

He made his way past her to turn off the shower taps, not forgetting to pick up the cursed blade she managed to dismantle from his shaver and throwing it in the bin. He squatted in front of her, closely resembling the position her parents often found them in whenever she fell or cut herself when they were younger (which happened often due to her clumsy nature), and gently took her left arm in his hands, applying a small amount of pressure on the wound. He took her little or lack of hesitation to his actions as a good sign and proceeded to help her up on wobbly feet. He wrapped the towel more securely around her shivering body and placed a warm, reassuring arm around her waist, guiding her towards the sink. After coming to the conclusion that it was unlikely for her wound to get infected (and feeling a little too heartsick upon witnessing her terrified expression as she watched the excess blood gradually splatter onto the sink), he sat her back down on the toilet seat and reached inside the cupboards for some medical supplies.

They both sat in silence as he acted purely on his instincts, concentrating hard to apply a thin layer of antiseptic liquid along the length of the gash and to wrap a dressing around the fresh wound, her body shivering throughout the process. When he had managed to skilfully cover it up from harmful bacteria, he placed one hand under her thighs and the other on her back and lifted her up. They made their way to his bedroom in the same wordless manner, the apartment that had grown accustomed to having their endless episodes of boisterous laughter bounce off its walls now only met with the soft padding of comfy slippers on parquet floors.

He set her down on his unmade bed, somewhat unwilling to leave her still trembling body alone on the vast expanse of baby blue bed sheets. He fetched an old T-shirt of his - one of her favourites - and the smallest pair of boxers he could find, hoping that they would suffice. When he returned, he found her curled up into a tight ball, eyes clenched shut and eyebrows furrowed in worry. He gently coaxed her out of her fetile position and sat a bit of a distance away, pulling the shirt over her head before handing her the boxers and turning around with his eyes covering his entire face, making sure not to invade her privacy. He heard a soft chuckle escape her lips, and that alone was enough to ease his tightening heart.

He couldn't help but to wonder why did she felt the need to do what she did. What was going through her mind? Did something happen to her? Did anyone hurt her in anyway? Who should he hunt down and murder in cold blood? His mind was working at a million kilometres an hour, coming up with every possible scenario and their respective solutions.

The bed dipped underneath his crossed legs, and he felt fear shoot through his system before cold fingertips lifted up the back of his shirt and began to scratch. He sighed in relief - at least she hadn't collapsed and there was no need for him to call for an ambulance. His mind and heart, however, were still unsure of what to make of the events that were unfolding before him.

He let out a nervous, breathy laugh. "What are you doing, ?" Despite the negative connotations commonly associated with his words, she knew that they meant no harm and willing took them as a token of their frienship. Insulting each other at any and every given opportunity was yet another one of their odd traditions, and frankly, she wouldn't have it any other way. "Stop before you get hurt again, or else I'll really have to give you a blood transfusion right in my own dorm. You don't want that now, do you?" He scolded.

"Sorry," she whispered, her voice hoarse from what he presumed was hardcore crying. No wonder she had the taps to full blast. "I just thought... I should return the favour, I guess. What with you helping me with my... My arm, and all that."

He let out another sigh. He knew there was a lot on her mind, especially since she was apologising unnecessarily (they didn't even apologise when they pushed each other off the seesaws when they first met at kindergarten, for goodness' sake. Whoever got pushed off just waited until the other got on again to seek their revenge). She had always been concise and clear-minded; always having a clear view of what she wanted and exactly how she was going to achieve it. Only at times like this, when she felt all too vulnerable and her emotions were all too raw, did she doubt herself. He spun his body around to face her, the two of them holding eye contact for what felt like several hours but was actually only a few seconds. He gazed into her swollen, red eyes, the cracking of his heart as it fractured into a million shards echoing in his ears. She looked so broken; so torn, he just had to reach forwards to grab her cheek in a light, teasing pinch, his lips in a small pout and his warm eyes swirling with comfort and reassurance. They had always been by each other's side, watching each other grow and mature while learning how to care for each other and themselves along the way. Of course, they had their fair share of fights and misunderstandings, but in the end they always managed to patch things up without a single trace of any frays in their bond. Since university started, however, they drifted further and further apart as their schedules clashed and they each found new friends to replace the hole that their respective absences created. Only on rare occasions like these or family get-togethers back in their hometown did they have the opportunity to go back in time, returning to their normal selves again.

The girl that sat in front of Jihun right now made him feel scared, above anything else, because seeing her hurt, no, watching her hurt herself, was the equivalent of him getting hurt in the exact same way. He was scared because he felt for her a little bit too much and a little bit too differently from what normal friends felt for each other. He was scared that she would do something even more drastic in the near future. He was scared of losing her. What would he do when her absence became permanent, and her million watt smile would never  grace her features and blind his eyes again? 

"Do you want to talk?" He asked, his fingers twitching, yearning to touch her formerly tear-stained cheeks a little while longer, but he shouldn't, so he didn't. "Or you could just sleep, I'm fine either way."

She broke their eye contact, looking down at the fluffy white clouds floating along his duvet. "I... I got a call today."

"From who?"

"My ex."

The boy took a sharp intake of breath. "Oh," he managed through his whirlwind of emotions. "What did he want from you?"

She played with her fingers, uncertain of how he would react. "He wanted to apologise. And he wanted to get back together."

"Oh,"

"He was drunk, I could tell."

"That's not a surprise." Jihun muttered. Her only ex-boyfriend had broken up with her before they entered university, and they hadn't contacted each other ever since. He found it hard to believe that it took the bastard two whole years and one too many drinks to realise that he should've held her tighter, kissed her softer, treated her better, loved her. He had to hold back the utterly strong urge to scoff. "Well, what did you say?" He asked, fearing the worst. He knew that she had a soft spot for the bastard, despite all the cuts, tears and sleepless nights that she had to endure because of his careless actions.

"I told him to make the next shot his last and take a taxi home." She told him truthfully. "And then I very politely asked him to get the out of my life."

His entire face lit up. "Really?" Then he suddenly remembered that she was still very sad and very hurt in more ways than one. "I'm sorry, I meant, hmm, how very considerate of you to remember your manners at such a point in time."

For the first time that night, she let out a genuine laugh, melodious to his ears. "I'm too nice to him, honestly. I don't know why, but there's still a part of me that cares about him and wants him to succeed in life even though he's screwed me a million times over. I can't find it in me to wish him ill. Is that wrong, Jihun? I just-"

"No. Listen to me." He encompassed her hands in his larger ones, hoping that for their short moment of eternity, he could hold onto her and never let her go. "Believe me when I say that you're simply not the type of person who can ever wish anyone ill. You're just built that way, that's all. And it's not wrong, anything you feel is never wrong. Your feelings are yours, and yours only. It doesn't matter if they're different from mine, or your mum's, or from that hot American dude who never seems to exit his house with a shirt to cover his assets," She laughed at this. He found it very endearing indeed. "You are entitled to feel whatever you want to feel. There's no wrong and right when it comes down to it. You feel what you feel, and nothing I, or anyone for that matter, say or do can change that easily. I have to agree with you though, you are way too nice to him."

Having already prepared themselves for bed, the two of them plopped onto the pillows in unison while a string of yawns followed soon after. "Why did you even like him, anyway? It was obvious to me that he was a first class douchebag from the very beginning."

"Honestly?"

"Honestly...?"

"He reminded me of you a whole lot." Well that was unexpected, Jihun thought. Wait-

"You thought that, no, you think that I'm a douche? Man, after all I've done for you this is how you repay-"

"No!" She couldn't help but to laugh at his unconventional way of interpreting the situation. "I meant, the way he took care of me. He always bought me food, made sure I was warm, leant me his shoulder to sleep on when I was tired, borrowed me his clothes when I stayed over, things like that." Her cheeks warmed at the implications of her words.

"Dude, you just described practically the entire male population. Most guys instinctively do that for their girl, it's just common courtesy, like thanking someone after they've given you an extra piece of chicken or something."

"How would I know? I'm not exactly educated on these things, I've only ever had one boyfriend. Besides, he grew less and less like you once I saw how he acted in front of his friends. He was showing me off like I was some new toy of his, which I hated. Sure, there were times when I felt like he truly cared for me, like when we would talk about useless things at night then cuddle to sleep, or something like that, but in the end it felt like he was putting on a show and he was just reading off a script and he didn't mean anything he said."

"You're right, I would never do that. He was just using you to gain his friends' respect, or to flaunt his taken status to the world. Talk about selfish." He scoffed for real this time. "In the future, don't get fooled by these types of guys so easily. They may seem like they're taking care of you but it may actually be sincere."

"Are you trying to tell me that you're not sincere?"

"What?!" He turned to his side to face her. With the slither of moonlight illuminating her more peaceful expression, he thought that she looked nothing short of an angel (in fact, she is an angel in his eyes, although most of the time she was a royal pain in the ). "Again, is this how you're going to repay me for sticking on your plasters, feeding you, buying you food, accompanying you to the toystore, playground, beach, themepark etcetera, providing clothes for you, borrowing you my jacket when you're busy freezing your off in that miniskirt that is way, way too short for my liking- Oh wait! Not to mention cleaning up your vomit, disposing your used tissues with latex gloves, getting weird stares when I buy you pads, making you birthday cards til 3 in the morning, buying bread from that stupid bakery halfway across the city just because you were feeling sad, and don't even get me started on those chick-flicks that you make me watch, I swear-"

"Okay!" At this point, she was practically doubling over, howling in laughter. "Okay, I get it. I don't give you enough credit for everything that you do for me. I'm sorry, from the bottom of my cold, cold heart. Kim Jihun, please accept my utmost apologies. What would you like as your repayment?"

He thought about this for a moment. This was probably his only chance. "How about..." He tapped his chin in faked contemplation. "Slave for a day?"

Her eyes widened. This was definitely not what she expected. "You mean a full 24 hours?"

"Ding! That's how many hours there are in a day, . And you'll have to do anything I ask you to."

"A-anything?" She asked timidly.

"Oh yes, anything and everything, my angel."

"Well, I don't really have a say in this, do I?" He nodded with a kitten-like grin. "Okay, when do I start?"

"How about now?"

"Now? Right now?"

"Yes, are you deaf? Did you not hear me the first time I said it?"

"I did, but this is all a bit too sudden..."

"Okay, the time is..." He fished his phone out of his pocket. "1:09. We start now. First things first, you must scratch my back until I fall asleep."

"Don't I already do that all the time?" She muttered under her breath.

"I heard that. No talking back to your Master. Now, two more things. One, you are to forget about that useless bastard right this instant. And two," He paused for effect (but mainly just to gather his courage). "You are going to let me help you with that, angel."

Jihun placed his hands on her waist and pulled her towards him, their faces so close that their noses were bumping against each others'. He tenderly held her face in his palms, thumbs gliding over her cheeks in soothing circles and unknowingly, she leaned towards his touch, lips caught between her teeth and eyelids fluttering close. It made his nervousness die down and helped the corner of his lips stretch even further.

"Okay." She breathed. They had known each other for a very long time, and they had both been unwilling to sacrifice their precious friendship for something more; something many times better.

And that was all he needed. She stayed still while he leaned forward, his soft lips meeting her forehead first before making its way down at a leisurely place, not leaving a single inch untouched. He took his time to kiss her closed eyelids, nose and cheeks with such care and affection that she couldn't help but to let a few stray tears trickle down her face. Whatever she was feeling - that strong thumping in her chest and ticklish feeling in her stomach, along with the heat rising up her cheeks, on top of everything that had been thrown her way this past semester, was all too much. It all felt too good to be true.

"Hey..." His chest ached when he tasted her wet, salty tears on his lip. "I was supposed to help you forget one bastard but it seems like I've just turned myself into one..."

She shook her head violently. "No..." She sniffled. "You're nothing like that bastard. You're much better." She paused to gather her breath and her sanity. "So, so, so much better." She added

"Are you sure? I'll stop. This is too much, I was asking for too much. Pretend I didn't say anything, okay? You don't have to be my slave anymore, just-"

"Kim Jihun," God, the things this girl did to him. Just the way she said his name could make him feel like he was on top of the world. "Could you do me a favour?"

"Yeah?"

"Just shut up before I smash your head on the nearest hard surface and finish what you started or else I swear I will neve-"

Their lips met with a sense of urgency, as though trying to make up for the past 19 years of being unbelievably close yet unmistakably far. They moved in perfect harmony, legs and bodies already messily tangled up with each other, as if they utterly despised the fact that they had spent their entire lives apart (which they did, because although they would fall asleep side by side, night after night, they never actually slept in each other's arms). 

(Tonight would be the first of many nights filled with whispered nothings, tangled limbs and kisses sweet enough to give them diabetes).

(And on some nights, more often than not, there would be wanton moans, bodies and searing kisses that explored every part of their bodies).

(But that's another story for another time).