Siwon’s POV

I often wonder what it would be like if we were more than just friends.

The idea casually creeps up in my mind as I sit here in her room, on her bed as she comfortably undresses in her attached bathroom a few metres away, the door slightly left open. I could hear each piece of clothing fall down against the black and white floor tiles in which I had laid down summers ago. I close my eyes shut and whisper a careful prayer to myself,

Bless me Lord for I have sinned. Lately I’ve been having promiscuous thoughts of Sooyoung.

My eyes stagger with each sound of zippers being undone and redone as guilt arises with each sense of arousal I’m suddenly getting. I’ve known Sooyoung for quite some time now. It’s been so long that some even joke that we’re actually siblings, our similar last names adding more fuel to that idea. But with thoughts like these, I would definitely be classified as guilty for the endless uous ideas or even the scenarios role played in my mind.

“Oppa~ can you see anything under this?”

She calls to me, snapping me out from my imaginative wonderland. She steps out and twirls like a ballerina, her long limbs perfectly extended before awkwardly doing a pirouette. I shoot her my most convincing “I-have-no-clue-what-you-are-saying-woman” stare which leads to her pointing at her lady lumps with the tip of her lips. She was asking if her bra was visible. I hate the fact that I find it cute; moreover, the fact that she has spent the last hour or so slipping in and out of a variety of outfits desperately searching for the perfect number to impress the nameless guy she is infatuated over.

I playfully throw a pillow at her face before shaking my head, no. I see nothing. It’s somewhat disappointing in an odd kind of way, as if I’m missing out on something. Possibly. And there I go with these ideas...

Bless me Lord for I have sinned

A few weeks ago Sooyoung, as she would describe, ‘hit the jackpot’ when her grumbling stomach guided her straight into the smoky aromatic cooked meat infused restaurant on the lonely corner of a random road.  She supposedly had fallen head over heels over some male worker who had diligently grilled her meat to perfection, the charcoal marks imprinted onto each piece of protein like a fine novel. In other words, in her eyes it was like an angel fell from the sky. I remember the night she called; awakening me from my sleep to gloriously proclaim how perfect he had handled her meat. I had easily become another one of her ‘girl friends’ to spazz to anytime of the day despite being someone who has absolutely no attraction to the same as me aka guys. I like girls, the lovely female species, but that doesn’t stop her from ranting on to me about how y he had flipped the meat and how the grilling sounds were like elegant chimes being blown against the summer air. Her constant praises for this unknown man became a familiar routine that my ability to filter it out completely was no longer working. Eventually, I grew accustomed to it, sometimes even playing along by adding a:

“Oooh~ does he have a brother?”

Sooner or later I found myself too deep in a hole I had dug all on my own.   

That’s Sooyoung.

The type falls for apparently. She finds odd quirks appealing, some that no one notices but herself. That’s the thing about Sooyoung…she’s unique. 

The drive over to the grill house oozes of a quaint atmosphere floating within the contained space of my mini vehicle. My hands stay frozen along the steering wheel, head focused straight ahead, and back glued completely by the chair. Every now and then my eyes naturally fall upon the smiling reflection of Sooyoung in the window. Her hands are busy fidgeting over the hem of her dress, a sign that she’s either nervous or excited…maybe even both. She’s overdressed for the occasion compared to my plain solid knit shirt and sweats.

I notice her spring up from her seat, fingertips now gripped along the seatbelt ---which if it wasn’t buckled, I’m sure she would have figured a way out of what blocked her from running down that familiar road separating her from her beloved prince charming disguised in an apron and armed with a pair of tongs. Her eyes sparkle as we draw closer and by impulse, I suddenly pull away. I grab that steering wheel and stir it in another direction, anywhere but there. I push on it and step on the gas, accelerating on a pathway that ends up being a one way road, a great find to spare some time for me to think this situation through.

Sooyoung’s annoyed.

She doesn’t need to say anything for me to realize this. That single deep sigh that escapes her lips are enough for me to understand. Her once twinkling fingers now lay along the car lock. I can’t help but question if the slightest idea of jumping out crosses her mind; would