Iseul was drained. She was exhausted. Her body felt as if she had been struck by a cross-country truck. She shifted, then paused, confused in her sleepy stupor.  What was she lying on?  She opened her gritty eyes to darkness, awakening a bit more with the rising of her lids.  Her senses also started to awaken, and as they reported for duty, she realized that she was hearing soft, steady, even breathing breezing past her ear.

At that, the full realization of where she was (and on whom) hit her mercilessly. Last night, they had finally been able to reach the night watchman, but unfortunately, without power, they were stuck.  When emergency services were called, they asked if either of them was in any imminent danger, and when told that they weren’t, let them know that they would get to them as soon as they could.  

They had fallen asleep waiting.

As Iseul shifted, Baekhyun murmured, one arm tightening around her waist while the other hand drowsily patted at her hair.  She stilled, waiting for the shame, the hot, stabbing embarrassment, and feeling mildly surprised when it didn't come.  She knew that she should pull back, slip away out of his arms, but, but…

She felt warm.   She felt safe.  She thought over the previous night, and didn’t…didn't want to leave this feeling.  Baekhyun had been so kind, and while her logical side told her that he was just a kind person--that as such he would have done the same for anyone in the same situation--the lonely side, the wistful side, the dark hole of want want want that screamed from deep inside, hungry and feral, wanted to pretend…  Just for a little while.  

“Mm.”  He spoke, his voice gritty.  Lazy, and resonant.  “Are you okay?”

“Mm...”  At the sound of his voice, she closed her eyes, lowered the iron curtain that separated her outward facade from the hungry, screaming inner lament, and began to pull away. 

“No…” he murmured softly, readjusting her on his lap, tightening his hold, and threading his fingers through her hair, gently caressing her scalp.

“Your legs,” she said, “They’re going to go numb.  If they haven’t already.”

“I’m fine,” he sighed comfortably.  His voice grew quiet, slightly slurred.  “It’s blissful…”

From his voice, Iseul could tell that he was once more falling asleep, and she decided, just this once, to do, not what she should do, but what she wanted to do.  So she relaxed against his body, luxuriated in the shift and slide of his belly against her ribs as he breathed.  Her face was still buried in the side of his neck, and his scent was intoxicating.  

There was a screeching noise, and a shudder, and then light illuminated the elevator, searing through Iseul’s eyelids, and the haze of comfort into which she had just started to let herself fall.  Within seconds, she realized that the elevator had once more begun its descent, and she launched herself out of Baekhyun’s hold, scrambling to her feet, and raking a claw through the hair that he had assiduously tousled throughout the night.

Baekhyun was slower to get to his feet, but thankfully, aside from his rumpled shirt, he looked none the worse for wear.

The door opened on the bottom floor to the worried face of the thin, middle-aged security guard, who peered into the elevator with trepidation.  Upon seeing that the both of them were unharmed, he sighed in obvious relief.  “Are you alright?” he asked for good measure.

“Yes, I’m fine, thank you,” Iseul said quickly, bowing awkwardly before quickling exiting the elevator and heading toward the exit.  She heard Baekhyun’s low, polite, Thank you, I’m fine, and quickened her steps, the glorious goal of the exit all she could see.  She needed to get to the metro.  She needed to get away, to hole herself up in the dark of her apartment, and hold herself, and cry.  She needed-

A warm hand grabbed her wrist, and then she was trotting even faster, but this time being pulled along by Baekhyun, who was walking with great, determined strides.  “What are you doing?”

“Taking you home.”

“It’s fine; the power’s back on-”

“Noona!”  He spun around to face her, the planes of his face forbidding.  

His mouth, his gorgeous, pink little mouth that she privately believed that she could stare at for days was tight, lips pressed together.  The tautness of his exasperated expression was juxtaposed against the soft roundness of his cheeks.  Iseul wanted to brush her thumbs over them.  

“I…am taking you home.  Alright?”  

His voice had gentled, and that tenderness is what made her fall.  Aggression she could always counteract, but softness?  Sweetness?  She looked down, saying nothing, and after a few seconds, he turned back around, continued for the door, though this time at a slower pace.

Still, his hand remained around her wrist, soft and burning.

Dawn had yet to break as he led her across the empty parking lot to his car, letting go of her wrist to fob the car open for her while he walked around to the other side.  

Iseul slipped into the vehicle feeling as worn out and limp as a wash rag. 

Baekhyun climbed in a few moments later.  He looked at her for a brief moment before reaching across her body to pull down her seatbelt and click it into place.  

Iseul knew that she should be affronted, should be uncomfortable, but all she felt was tired.  

“Where do you live?”

She sighed, suddenly incredibly sleepy, and drowsily gave him her full address.  There was a pause, and then he programmed it into his GPS before starting the car which purred to life with a soft rumble.  

As he drove out of the parking lot, he briefly glanced at her.  “Close your eyes.  Rest.”

Iseul knew she should protest, but…she didn’t want to.  So, she did as she was told, her body relaxing into the slowly warming leather seat as the now gentle rain tapped on her window.

“Noona…”

Iseul opened her eyes.  She was home, and hadn’t even realized it.  It felt as if just seconds had passed since she closed them.  “Oh…  Thank you.”  She exited the car, closing the door, and leaning down to peer in the window as he lowered it.  “Please drive safely.”

“Mm.  Go inside,” he said politely.

Iseul walked to the front door of her apartment building, using her fob to open the door, and turning to see Baekhyun still watching.  She turned back, slipping inside, feeling the hairs on the back of her neck prickle with the knowledge that his eyes were on her.  At the elevators, she surreptitiously turned, and yes.  He was still there.  Still watching.  Still seeing her in safely.  She stared at the elevator in contemplation for a moment, before turning for the stairs.  

She hadn’t developed a sudden fear of elevators, no, but the night's events were still too close, too fresh.  As she opened the door to the stairwell, she risked one last look back.  

His eyes were still on her.  Calm.  Alert.  Thoughtful.  

She lingered for a moment before chastising herself for her patheticness.  Baekhyun was probably tired, and wanted to go home, and here she was, milking every drop of his attention like some sort of love-starved street urchin.  

She closed the door.  

***

Buzz

“Mm.”

Buzz buzz.

Iseul sighed.  Trying to abolish her lethargy, she dragged her worn carcass to its feet, shuffled to the door in her comfortable grey sweatpants and hoodie. Her building was relatively safe, and often, deliverypeople would buzz anyone’s apartment to be let in.  She pressed her intercom button.  “Hello?”

“Noona… Let me in.”

Iseul was wide awake.  There was no mistaking that voice.  She debated, but her hand moved before her brain could catch up, and buzzed him inside the building.  She paced as she waited for him to arrive, wishing that she had never answered the buzzer. A few minutes later, her doorbell rang.  

She looked at the camera.  It was him.  She opened , screaming as quietly as she could to blow off some tension before opening the door. 

He looked stern.  “Noona, you should check before you open your door.”

“There…is a camera…” she answered hesitantly.

“Really?” he said, looking around.  His shoulders dropped.  “That’s a relief.”  He stood for a moment, watching her as she stared up at him before softly asking, “May I come in?”

“Oh!” She jumped a little, before opening the door wide enough for him to pass.  “Please.”  He walked past, pausing to remove his shoes before continuing on into her apartment.  

Iseul closed the door and followed him into the living room.  She gestured to the couch.  “Please, have a seat.”  They perched side by side, polite and awkward, and she waited for him to speak.  He didn’t though, merely regarded her calmly, until she asked, “To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?”

He smiled slightly, finally breaking eye contact to look down.  “I…wanted to check on you.  After last night…I was worried.”

“Oh…”  She didn’t quite know what to say to that.  To be honest, she had hoped that he would at least pretend to have forgotten the whole encounter, and they could return to the polite coworking relationship that they had prior.  But then…the whole reason that she wasn’t a gibbering mess was because of him.  His comfort.  She blushed shyly, and looked down at her hands, gripped together tightly in her lap.  “I’m fine, thank you.”

“That’s a relief.”

“It’s thanks to you,” she said, looking up briefly to meet his eyes, but then looking back down, too embarrassed to continue the eye contact.  “Thank you.”

He waved a hand.  “Forget it.”

Her nervous bladder suddenly made itself known, and Iseul abruptly stood.  Baekhyun looked alarmed until she said, “I’m sorry.  I have to use the bathroom.”

Relief washed over his face, and he gestured.  “Please.”

She turned to go, but then turned back.  “I’m sorry, my manners…  Would you like something to drink?”

He hesitated, but then nodded, asking, “May I have some water?”

The pressure on her bladder was mounting, and she started to move from one foot to the other.  “Please, help yourself,” she said quickly, before turning back toward the hall, and quick-stepping to the bathroom.

When she emerged, Baekhyun was back on the couch, a bottle of water in his hand, and another one sitting on her coffee table.  

She thanked him, and cracked it open, drinking deep.

He sat awkwardly as she drank, looking past her with an expression of indecision.  Finally, after she had had her fill, and capped the bottle, he lifted his eyes to her.  “Noona…why don’t you have food in your fridge?”

Her mind cast to the inside of her refrigerator, bare save for some condiments, water, apples, oranges, and kimchi.  It did look pretty bleak.  She blushed.  “I…just haven’t had time to go grocery shopping.  I guess that I’ll have to do it later today….”

He peered at her thoughtfully, his eyes going back and forth, from the crown of her head, down her face, as if he were scanning her.  Then he stilled, gaze turned inward, as if in thought.  Finally coming to some sort of apparent decision, he nodded, reaching in his back pocket and pulling out his phone.  “What do you like?”

“I’m sorry?”

“To eat?  What would you like?”

“What are you doing?”

“I’m going to order something.”

Alarm bells clanged in her brain.  “I can’t let you do that.”

“Why not?”

“Because you're a guest.  It’s my job to feed you.”

“I guess that you’ll just have to owe me a favour,” he said negligently, as he searched through his phone.  He evidently found what he wanted, because he finally looked back up at her, leaning forward slightly as he crossed his legs, and rested his elbow on his knee.  “Now.  What are we eating?  Galbi?  Jjajangmyeon?  Tangsuyuk?  Bulgogi?  Fried chicken?  Something western?  Pizza?  Do you like spicy?”

“I like spicy, but whatever you want,” she murmured.

“No…” he shook his head, then fixed her with a look.  “Whatever you want.  What’s your favourite restaurant?  What do you want to try?”

She thought for a moment.  “Have you ever tried School Food?”

“No?”

“I’ve…heard that it’s good…”

“Do you want to try it?”

Iseul paused, suddenly shy.  “Yeah…”

He looked up the menu, then leaned toward her, showing her his phone and slowly scrolling so that she could read.  

“Oh!  Spicy carbonara tteokbokki!”  She looked up at him, then stilled when she realized that his face was so near.  

“Is that what you want?” he asked quietly.  

Suddenly shy, she looked back down at his phone, nodding.

“I like it.  What else?”

“The spam gyeran kimbap looks good,” she murmured.  

“It does,” he agreed.  “What else?”

“What do you want?”

He was silent for a moment, his thumb gently his phone screen as he thoughtfully scrolled.  “These cold kimchi noodles look good.  Do you like that?”

“I do.”

“What about fishcake soup?”  She couldn’t control her hungry expression and he laughed.  “Fishcake soup…oh?  What’s this? Rose tteokbokki?  Have you heard of it?”

“Mm.  It’s supposed to be pretty good.”

“Okay,” he said with a decisive nod, before calling the restaurant, and ordering their food.  “It should be about twenty minutes.”

Iseul nodded, and then they lapsed into silence.  A gurgling growl broke the quiet, and she looked over to see Baekhyun covering his stomach and looking at the floor, a furious flush colouring his entire face.  “Are you terribly hungry?”

“I’m sorry,” he said awkwardly.  “I haven’t eaten since yesterday’s lunch.”  

“Oh no!”  Iseul felt terrible.  She cast her mind through her kitchen, only to come up with bare cupboards (save for ramen), a pristine freezer, and a pitifully stocked refrigerator.  Her thoughts settled on the only remotely edible things in her house.  “Would you like some fruit?  Or, perhaps…would you like to eat ramen?”

Baekhyun’s face turned an alarming shade of purple, and he burst out coughing.

Panicking, Iseul jumped up, running behind the couch, and reaching down to pull his arms in the air.  “Lift your arms!”  He did so, but was still struggling, so she moved in front of him and crouched, lifting a hand to gently his throat.  “Swallow,” she said softly.  He was obedient, his coughs lessening as he swallowed.  “Good, good,” she crooned, continuing to his throat, the same way she did when her cat was a baby, and had trouble.  When the coughs became more sporadic, and less uncontrollable, she grabbed her bottle of water, and held it to his mouth, her other hand hovering behind his head.  “Drink.  Carefully.”  His eyes stayed on hers as he drank, carefully and slowly swallowing, pausing, and then exhaling and inhaling before swallowing again.  Without thinking, she idly the base of his head, instinctively trying to comfort him as he drank.  Finally, he came up for air, and she set the bottle on the table, patted him on the chest before moving to sit close beside him.  “How do you feel?  Are you okay?”

“I’m okay,” he nodded, his voice rough.  A few more coughs here and there broke the stillness, but he seemed otherwise fine.  “I’m sorry about that.  I accidentally inhaled while swallowing.”

“It happens.  So…did you want a snack?”

“Fruit,” he grunted.  “Please.  I…would like to have some fruit.”

“Alright,” she nodded, standing and walking past him, her hand briefly reaching up to comfortingly ruffle his hair as she walked toward the kitchen.  

She opened her fridge and peered inside.  The oranges were a little shriveled, but the apples looked shiny, and robust.  She grabbed a few, and took them to the sink to wash before pulling out a plate, and a little paring knife.  Quickly, and deftly, she peeled the fruit, each in one single long, continuous ribbon, looking up once to see Baekhyun watching her work, a curiously wistful expression, on his face.  She sliced the apples into sections, and removed a fork from her silverware drawer, laying it on the plate, before walking over to set it down on the table before him.  “It’s not much,” she said lightly, “but it’s my hospitality.”  

“I’ll enjoy it, thank you,” he said politely, reaching out to spear a section of apple.  He took a bite, looking oddly shy and pleased as he chewed.  

She smiled.  “Do you like it that much?”

“I like it,” he agreed, his cheeks plump and shingin with his shy grin.  After a moment, he paused however, examining the plate before looking back up at her.  “Aren’t you going to have any?”

Iseul chuckled.  “I’ve lived alone for so long that I’m used to taking just one set of utensils.  Excuse me.”  She started to rise, but he stopped her with a gentle hand on her arm.  

“Wait.”  He speared another piece and held out the fork for her to take.  “I’m clean.  I don’t mind if you don’t mind.”

She took it and ate the apple, before taking another piece and returning the fork to him.  “How do you know that I’m clean?” she teased.  He looked at her very seriously, so seriously that she felt as if she should hold her breath.  

“You’re Kang Iseul.  I trust you.”

Something about the way he said it…Iseul stopped smiling.  A tension unfamiliar to her filled the air.  His eyes were lambent as he watched her face, his mouth open ever so slightly as his eyes flitted here and there, as if searching, hungry for the smallest change in expression.  Iseul felt like she couldn’t breathe.  Like the air was made of honey, sticky, but sweet.  

A sudden buzz broke the silence, and they both jumped, looking toward her door.  

“That must be…the delivery,” she muttered, rising quickly to practically trot toward the door.  “Yes?”

“Delivery for Byun Baekhyun.”

“Yes,” she said, buzzing the man into the building.  

Baekhyun stood, approaching to gently touch her arm.  “Why don’t you go wash up while I take care of this?”

“Mm?  Alright,” she acquiesed, heading toward the bathroom to wash her hands, and freshen up a bit.  By the time she emerged, the food was laid on her coffee table, and Baekhyun was in her kitchen, washing his hands.  “It looks good,” she called.  “Thank you.”

“Nah,” he said, shaking his head.  “This is nothing.  Don’t worry about it.”  He walked over to sit on the floor next to her.  They said grace, and then he gestured.  “Please…  Eat.”

“Thank you for the meal,” she intoned politely before reaching for the spicy carbonara tteokbokki, and pulling some onto a little bowl that he had found in her cabinet.  

He took a piece of kimbap.  

“Mmm…”  Her eyebrows lifted, and her eyes flew to him to see the same pleased expression.

“It's good!” he affirmed.

They ate in comfortable silence for a while, until Iseul noticed that he wasn’t touching either tteokbokki.  “Didn’t you want some?”

He shook his head decisively.  “I don’t like spicy food.  I really can’t do spicy at all.”

She frowned.  “Then why…?”

He didn’t look at her, but watched as his chopsticks idly moved a noodle in the kimchi broth.  “You like spicy.”

“But you ordered it.”

His eyes met hers.  “I ordered it for you.”

She felt like he was trying to tell her something, but she couldn’t figure out what, so she stayed silent.

He looked down with a rueful smile.  “Please…enjoy.”

“Thank you,” she said softly.  Noticing that he was avoiding the egg in the noodles, she fished it out, and placed it in his bowl.  “Eat.”

He did, looking down with a shy, pleased smile.

Iseul’s heart skipped a beat, and she cast about for a conversational topic in an effort to keep her delusional side under control.  “When you ordered…you said no cucumbers?”

He frowned, waving a hand as if declining the very idea.  “I really can’t eat cucumbers.  Really.  I can’t even stand the smell.”

She nodded.  “I feel the same way about mayo.”

“I guess cucumber salad with mayo would take us both out.”

She wrinkled her nose.  “I do like cucumbers, but the thought of them swimming in a creamy pool of jiggling mayo is just…” she shuddered.  “Our tastes are so different.”

“That’s good,” he pronounced.  “They complement each other.”

She smiled.  “I’ll be your white knight for cucumbers.  Is there anything else that you don’t like?”

He thought for a moment.  “Just zucchini.  You?”

“Raw onion.”

“Ah, that’s right.  I can’t eat raw garlic, either.”

“I can eat it if it’s in small pieces in sauce, but otherwise…same.  What about desserts?”

He looked up and smiled with a touch of aegyo.  “I like it.”

She chuckled.  “Do you like it that much?”

Putting down his chopsticks, he held out both hands to her, palms up in playful supplications.  “Please give me all the desserts!”

“Our Baekhyunie has a sweet tooth,” she teased.  

“Oh!”  He threw her a look that was downright flirtatious.

Be careful, she thought, as her heart began to race.  Don’t be stupid.  That’s just his personality.

As if finally having determined that the guest was not a threat, Somteul chose that moment to slink from the bedroom, and stand by Baekhyun’s side.  “Oh?  You have a cat?”

“That’s Somteul.  She’s twenty.”

“Twenty?!  Ah, I’m sorry, halmeoni,” he intoned with a mock bow.

Somteul stood on her hind legs, lifting her face to his, sniffing before she rubbed her cheek