Chapter Forty Seven

This was not the first time Kim Joonmyeon disappeared from my side when I woke up.

I was feeling it, the extremely chilling effect of the cold atmosphere or simply the absence of the familiar warmth that engulfed me just minutes or hours ago. I found myself being aware of my surroundings once again, away from my dreamland. It may have, indeed, been hours ago. It was relatively brighter compared to the dim, dark demeanor of the night. It was different in a way -  the yellow color of the enclosure, acting as my shelter, was becoming more distinct in color, with light being translucently shed through its rigid-looking fabric, signifying that it was the onset of morning. Different in a way that Kim Joonmyeon was not beside me, wrapping his arm around me. However, everything else remained the same. The deafening silence. The freezing coldness.

I stirred in position. From my side, I shifted lying on my back, then stared at the smooth-looking fabric of the tent above me for a number of seconds. I took in the scent of the morning as I breathed deeply. It smells like some tent being straightly used from the box bought from a camping-specialized shop. I had always wondered what it would be like to wake up in the morning and stare at a guy’s, okay, his face, to register his features in my mind. Though, yes, I had seen him sleep like a faultless angel during that time he was drunk, but it would be different, if I did so during his sober state, I think. But I was guessing he wouldn’t let me since he always woke up earlier and rather vanished even before I could wake up. Maybe he’s afraid that I’ll see his bloated face in the morning.  But…crap. Don’t even think about it, Myunjae. Only legit, wedded and settled couples have the privilege to do so. Goodness sakes, we’re still in high school. He just got lucky last night that he got to sleep beside me, without me kicking his arse, just because I was tired or…aish. But he’s still a cheater, he’s probably sleeping inside his bedroom now, with the warm, fluffy bed and pillows. 

I sat up in position lazily, slightly ruffling my hair with my right hand. Though it could not be denied that I felt like my fingers would break off  like some thin, solid ice if I moved another inch, I partially combed my hair down. With my usual  just-woke-up hair, I think I can qualify as Marge’s replacement in The Simpsons. Also, it’s just basic human right to look ‘human’ when waking up early in the morning, so you won’t scare away the owner of the unit you are currently staying at. With still droopy eyelids, I reached for the zipper of the tent, only to realize that it was only partially zipped close. Now that I thought about it, I think Hulck was trying to kill me by freezing me to death. I mentally grumbled as I completely zipped the tent open. I fixed the sleeping bag in a relatively more orderly state, but Hulck’s responsible for clearing these things up from his patio. I reached for the planner and crawled sleepily outside of the tent. I carefully stretched my limbs as I stood up, still trying my best not to thaw my seemingly frozen body. With the streaks of dark blue and orange of the sky, I think it was approximately six in the morning, since sunrise occurred much more ‘later’ during the winter season. Now that I had been out of the tent, it smelled like fresh grass on this patio, probably from the potted plants and ‘genuine’ lawn in this area.

As I gently pried the glass doors open, I observed that the inside of Joonmyeon’s unit was still dead silent. It was cold, but not as brutally cold as it was at the patio. I think he has the floor heating system . I’m not sure. The unit was still in ‘electricity-saving mode’. With the room being partially saturated with the toned down brightness of the winter morning, the lights were still turned off, however, it only made the unit more classy and sophisticated-looking with the interior, furniture and all. I had the urge to call Joonmyeon’s name and tell him that I would be going back to my room, but I held back my voice since it would ruin the peaceful façade of his unit, and I might wake up His Highness from his royal bed inside his majestic bedroom.

I took a glance of the room once again out of adoration as I walked towards the front door, but I just wished I didn’t because I found food laid on top of the expensive-looking wooden dining table, situated just in front of the black granite-ish kitchen counter. It was just a simple meal. Bacon and fried rice arranged on a circular white porcelain plate. And a white mug, oozing with small amount of steam. Probably hot chocolate or coffee, I wasn’t sure-

“Up early?”

I heard a door closing just after the clear yet stern-sounding voice resonated inside the unit. The voice was not too loud, but it was enough to call attention with silence playing in the background. My head quickly shifted towards the source of the sound and found Mr. Kim the Owner, who just finished closing his bedroom door down the hallway on the right, releasing the knob in his hand. He was still wearing the same attire of shirt, hoodie and track pants. However, he looked very much presentable for a person who had just waken up, if ever he had just waken up. His dark brown hair wasn’t in its usual fringe-up style, but it was fixed in its natural state, mysteriously yet contouring his facial features. But he probably just had some good night sleep, after resting inside his comfortable, well-insulated bedroom. 
  
Joonmyeon strode towards me. He wasn’t exactly smiling but his face was lit-up and bright, manifested by his clear complexion. Gosh. He looks so innocently fresh yet manly at the same time.

“How about you? Up early?” I returned his question to him, with a hint of mockery, though my voice remained hushed in volume. It was still morning and my throat was frozen as well, thanks to him. “Looked like you had some good sleep yourself.”

“I can’t tolerate extreme coldness.” He replied without displaying any expression on his face. “So I went back inside.”

“And what? Am I a snowman? You think I can sleep all night in a subzero temperature without freezing?” I spat at him coldly, still in a tone lower than my usual.

“So you’re implying I should have carried you?” A corner of his lips turned up, familiarly and subtly taunting me. “And that we should have slept on the same bed? I only have one bed. You know that.”

Actually, we already slept together last night. Wait, that statement didn’t come off right. I meant, we slept ‘side by side’ technically last night. Or him behind me…uh…what…Crap. Looked like I still hadn’t gotten proper sleep. I meant, who would, if you were dozing off on top of the Alps?

Joonmyeon stopped at a distance in front of me, with his hands inside the pockets of his track pants, as if observing me. He just stood there without saying anything, just glancing at my facial features.

Feeling a little self-conscious all of a sudden, I immediately looked down so my hair would cover my face. No good, because my hair was frozen to solid as well. 

I then noticed Joonmyeon stifling a small laugh to himself as he looked at the carpeted floor beneath us for a second. He seemingly glanced at me for a couple of seconds once again before he went past beside me, going to the couch behind me, situated in the living room. He got some huge set of newspapers from the table in front of the couch, running his eyes through the first page before flipping to the next page. See? He lives the lifestyle of a grandpa. 

Still feeling awkward due to him observing me previously, and with the dishevelled ‘morning calamity’ I was in, I proceeded walking towards the front door. I mumbled, also meaning to mock him audibly enough. “Thanks to you. I think I’m having hypothermia.”

I ran my fingers through my hair using my still-cold and partially trembling right hand, releasing my hair shortly, but ended up failing since the strands just fell back against my cheeks once again. I reached the front door. However, just as I attempted to open the door, with a tiny gap being formed, I heard the door closing once again by another hand from my far back. The door shut close with a sound, with the arm resting just beside and past my left cheek as I still faced the door.

Warmth became much more defined against my back as I felt the figure press at me, simultaneously, as a pair of arms enveloped me from behind. 

“I was sure I kept you warm all night long.” Joonmyeon’s soft yet serious voice resounded, with him mumbling against my hair. I felt his breathing slowly shifting to my side as he rested his head gently on my shoulder. “Since you asked. Yes. I woke up an hour ago.”

He resumed speaking in a half-stern, half-teasing tone. “I had to get up, or I don’t know what I’ll do.”

And here he goes again. Those statements of his filled with inappropriate innuendos.

“Joonmyeon, puh-lease. Stop with those lines of yours.” I spat at him, still unmoved from my position. And crap, it would be awkward if he knew that I was awake the whole time he was talking last night.  “And what warm? I don’t remember any of that.”

I heard Joonmyeon sighing a laugh once to himself again, answering then with his stern voice once more. “Then, should I remind you?” 

He encircled his arms around me much tighter and securely. 

“Joonmyeon.” I spoke in a casual way trying to get his arms off of me. It’s not romantic. Well, I admit it is, but shouldn’t this be done in front of huge windows of skyscrapers or something, as the both of you gaze out of the window, with sunshine streaming on your faces? We were just in front of a polished wooden door, Pete’s sakes. 

“Joonmyeon,” I muttered his name once again, now holding onto his hands, still unclasping the arms around my waist.

Still no response.

I eyed Joonmyeon’s face as I slightly faced sideways, with his head still hovered on top of my left shoulder. He had a close smile, yet teasing, with his eyes closed. He wasn’t budging.

“Joonmyeon.”
“Kim Joonmyeon.”

He still didn’t reply.

“Fine. Fine.” I began stating, slightly throwing my hands up in defeat. “I was awake. Maybe for a couple of minutes-”

Joonmyeon just sighed a small laugh again, with eyes still shut. He whispered with his tamed voice, partially devious in tone as if celebrating in victory. “I knew it.” 

I wasn’t able to find words to counter the statement. Maybe, it was because of the fact that I was liking his gesture at the moment. And any form of sound might ruin the moment.

We stayed in the position for about a minute or perhaps, more than a minute. 

It wasn’t too long. It wasn’t too short either. 
However, I just couldn’t get enough.

But I was sure, that it had been a while.
One while.

One while, that is neither sufficient nor insufficient.

With arms still wrapping around me and with a hold much gentler than earlier, Joonmyeon suddenly hummed above a whisper. “Your hair smells nice.”

I gave a small smile before replying. “Well then...your detergent smells nice.”

Joonmyeon’s gentle laugh rippled through my auditory senses, with him still resting his head on my shoulder. However, he didn’t let go.

With no words being muttered, the sound was probably something I would not get tired of hearing. Soft breathing becoming in sync with one another. Our hearts thumping, while everything else blended into silence. 

The scent was the one that I would always crave for - his distinct fragrance of musky sophistication and nostalgia.

The temperature was the one that I would not get enough of – his warmth enveloping me against the cold atmosphere.

But since it was morning, and I just woke up, another sound reverberated – the sound of my growling stomach, which I wished I was the only one hearing it.

“Breakfast. I think it’s time for breakfast.”  I muttered calmly. Gosh. I’m hungry.

He bolted his head up from its position, and he retracted his body away from mine, disentangling his arms around me. “Sorry, the Kim Joonmyeon suite doesn’t offer breakfasts for guests.”

Wh…what…but I thought the meal on the table…Aish. I knew it. I knew it. He’s rich but he’s so…um…well, he’s not thrifty and cheap either that he impractically bought two sets of tents and training wear. 

He’s just pranking me again.

I hope he chokes on his own breakfast.

Joonmyeon stifled a small, single laugh again to himself. With the absence of warmth pressing onto my back, it was quickly replaced with a new one against my right palm, with him taking an unyielding grasp on my hand. He led me to the dining table. Oh my. So it’s for me? Just as we reached the spot in front of the meal, Joonmyeon sat at the chair next to the said spot.

Oh. I thought he was gonna pull my chair out for me. He looked up at me blankly, as if wondering why I still wasn’t sitting down. Not a gentleman. I scoffed to myself before pulling my own chair out and settling myself. He’s probably thinking that he had already gone through some trouble while cooking this breakfast for me. But really, he was supposed to...ugh. Nevermind.

I placed the planner on the table, beside my...our breakfast. I was not sure though. The serving was also for one person. I glanced at Joonmyeon enquiringly while he began opening my planner and skimming through some pages casually with a serious expression, like an office person.

It will be really impolite if I eat this while the owner does not get to eat any. I slightly moved the plate to my right, where Joonmyeon was seated. “Aren’t you going to eat?”

“It’s yours.” He replied firmly, still scanning through the pages of my planner.

I continued figuring out his statement. “But you should at least eat something.” I reached for the metal chopsticks on top of a folded napkin beside the plate. I prompted the utensils towards Joonmyeon.

“It’s yours. The meal and the coffee.” He answered, still concentrating on the planner. “Yours.”

As if noticing that I didn’t say anything, he glanced at me. “Myunjae. Just eat. Before it gets too cold.”
He resumed firmly. “Do you want me to feed you as well?”

I brought my hand down and settled the metal chopsticks on the plate, still holding the utensils. I mumbled to myself. “Why even cook breakfast for only one person? Probably, not enough estimation skills.”

“Or maybe, you’ve eaten already.” I spoke louder, accusing him. Eating ahead of me. Aish. Really. What a gentleman.

Joonmyeon did not give a word. Instead, he stood up from his chair, leaving the planner on the table. I gazed at him with a you’re-weird expression. 

He spoke as he seemingly headed towards the table in front of the sofa. “Myunjae, just eat.”

Okay. Like I said, I’m an easy person to negotiate with. I directed the utensils towards the meal, being careful of the first bites to make sure there wasn’t some poison in it, just in case crazy Joonmyeon would consider it as a funny prank. After a couple of bites, I concluded it was safe like as a safehouse and proceeded savouring the meal in front of me. 

Oh my. So he can cook well? This tastes really good. But it’s probably because of the I’m-hungry effect. Seriously, this tastes like the one at Fredricksen’s, the Western restaurant two buildings away. And the coffee tastes like that of Starbucks’. Maybe, he should be a chef and a barista at the same time.

It was not long when Joonmyeon returned to the table with a ballpoint pen. He sat at his previous chair and without saying another word, he reached for the planner and started writing something at the latter pages of the planner. He had the left parting up, as if preventing me to see what he was writing on the right parting.

“Off limits. Off my planner.” I reminded him blankly after taking a sip of the coffee from the mug. But, right, he already wrote on my planner. 

He ignored my “warning” as he focused writing something on the planner, with eyebrows slightly scrunching up in concentration.

“Joonmyeon. You can’t write in there.” I stuffed a piece of bacon in my mouth. “Hey. No writing…wait, what are you writing?”

He still ignored me, marking something.

“Joonmyeon.”
“Kim Joonmyeon.”

Seeing that he was being stubborn, without any form of heads-up, I grabbed the planner away from him. I immediately looked at what he was up to.

I realized he wasn’t writing. He was ‘doodling’.

Hulck & Bellagum

“I have the right to write that.” Joonmyeon seemingly defended casually, flashing a small, closed smile.

I looked at him completely, gazing up from the planner in my hand after realizing he had been observing me, based on what I was seeing with my lateral view.

He immediately retracted his eyes away the moment I noticed him, seemingly faking a single cough as he looked at the table. He folded his arms in front of him, on top of the table, and rested his head on his folded arms, with him facing sideways, opposite of my direction.

Then I noticed he was seemingly writing on his palm secretively.

“Don’t doodle on your palm,” I attempted reminding him. “And the words won’t fit on your palm.”
“I’m not writing.” Joonmyeon stated, still detained in his position.
“Yeah right.” I expressed after taking in the second-to-the-last bite of the meal.

I swirled the coffee in the mug I was now holding. “I’m surprised your cooking isn’t horrible.” It tastes great, I want to add to that statement. But nope, he might flatter himself. 

Joonmyeon lifted his head from his position, as if he had just finished doing whatever business he was tending to. He sighed a laugh to himself, particularly, as if directed to my statement. Talk about being over-confident.

I scoffed at him after sipping coffee. “You’re supposed to be thanking me. I bet no one else praises you in your cooking. Oh, and what I meant was that the meal was edible enough. Not delicious enough.” But I gotta be honest. It tasted really good. “And why didn’t you eat?”

Joonmyeon stood up from his chair, and headed towards the two-door refrigerator at the right side of the kitchen. “I already ate.” He answered sternly.

“Right.” I challenged him. “What did you eat then?”

“Fried rice and scrambled eggs.” He muttered surely before drinking from his bottle of water.

I settled the mug back to the table, crossing my arms and gazing at Joonmyeon. “If you’re gonna lie about eating, then I might as well lie about your cooking being so good-”

I stopped in my statement after I landed my glance towards the metal trash at the far right side of the refrigerator. What the…
There was the familiar blue meal packing of Fredricksen’s. And two cups of Starbucks peeking out of the trash.

Oh so…
He didn’t cook the breakfast.
He didn’t make the coffee.
He also hogged half of the meal already.

Because the meal was Number Six at Fredricksen’s Breakfast Meals – bacon, scrambled eggs, and fried rice. He just bought the breakfast.
He also didn’t wake me up nor even wait for me to wake up so we could eat together.

Ugh. Cheapskate.

“You’re a cheater, Joonmyeon. You know that?” I eyed him, furrowing my eyebrows.

Joonmyeon followed where my previous gaze was, looking at the trash can. He walked towards it, where he placed the empty bottle of water.

He stifled a laughter before glancing at me. “You assumed I cooked it. Do I look like someone who can cook that real good?”

“Don’t be so full of yourself.” I rolled my eyes at him. I stood up, clearing the table of the utensils I just used, heading to the sink, which I think I could go to the police station for doing a crime of settling the dishes in it for it looked so immaculately clean and classy. “I don’t even think you can cook at the slightest.” He probably has his own personal chef in their house, like the one in Ratatouille. And maybe his own barista, I don’t know.

Joonmyeon began walking towards the hallway, heading to his bedroom. “I’m gonna take a shower. You’re free to go.” He muttered in that annoying, authoritative tone again. He always tells me when to go and when not to go. Such a warden guard.

“I hope that scribble on your hand won’t come off even if you bathe for a gazillion times.” I mocked him, increasing my tone.

“Yeah, I hope so,” he returned the taunting tone cockily without turning his head back.

Being a girl brought up with good manners, yeah, right, I washed the utensils that I used, also wiping the dining table, particularly at my recent spot. After doing so, I proceeded towards Joonmyeon’s bedroom as I walked down the hallway. So at least to bid him goodbye and to thank him for the meal that he already ate the half of. I knocked on his bedroom door thrice.

“Joonmyeon,” I called softly. I mean he’s a guy. He should take a shower fast. 
I knocked again. “Joonmyeon-”

The door opened, and I think it’s a good time…I meant, bad time…

Kim Joonmyeon was wearing dark blue jeans. 
Nothing more.

With his slightly moist hair still clinging onto his forehead.
Oh my gosh. He smells familiarly good too…

Biceps. Abs…

Uh. Focus, Myunjae. Focus!

With the gap made in between the door and the door frame, Joonmyeon stood in between them. What a view…No. Myunjae. Stop.

“Uh…I…I’ll be going now.” I stuttered, concentrating looking at his eyes, standing at a far distance from his door after taking a couple of steps backwards. “And thanks for the meal.”

I subconsciously shifted staring at his attire again. Jeans. Still incomplete. But maybe he was gonna go somewhere.

“I’m going out.” Joonmyeon spoke firmly, as if he read my mind.

Seeing that I was taking time to reply, because of the distracting yet pleasing…no. Just merely distracting, he suddenly flashed a half-innocent, half-smirking expression. “Do you want to stay here all day long?”

Seriously, every statement he’s saying, he’s conveying something ‘inappropriate’ as usual. Like, he could have just said something ‘normal’ for a guy like him, like ‘yes. I’m gonna go buy some feeds for my pet grasshoppers’ or ‘I’m gonna buy detergents at the grocery.’.

“Joonmyeon, that’s an innocent question,” I retorted at him. “Innocent questions get innocent answers.”

He stifled a laugh to himself again. For the nth time.

I just sighed, shrugging his gesture in the end, walking away from his bedroom door. I don't know if he'll throw more inapproriate remarks of his to me. “Anyway, I’m gonna go now. See you whenever I next see you. Thanks for the breakfast again.” 

I’m still not full. I’m gonna go make myself a legit breakfast.

“While…”

It had been almost an hour. And I was still waiting.

It was almost seven in the evening of this Saturday. It was cold. Surprise. Surprise. It’s still winter. I was dying to go home.

I was outside the dorm building, waiting for my lovely sister to pick me up, which she should have done an hour ago since her work usually ended at five. However, it was as if talking with a lunatic would be better than talking with my ‘busy’ sister on the phone at the moment.

“Hello? Hello?” I muttered through my phone. “M? Emma? You there? I can’t hear you. Speak properly. While what?”

“I said, while waiting for me, just go play in the lobby or something.”

“What? I’m not five years old. And I don’t even have my UNO cards with me.” Seriously, is she crazy or what? And who I’m gonna play with if ever I’m five years old? Mr. Jo? Ms. Kathy?

“I’ll be there. I just need to finish this important meeting with my bosses. I’ll call you if I’m close to your dorm. Spare me two hours.”

“Two hours?!” She should have said so earlier, so I didn’t have to clear my things up in my room so quickly. I should be watching Adventure Time right now in my laptop. 

“I have to go now. This party’s insane. Okay. Bye.”

And the call ended.

I’m right. She’s part