Part Four
Fresh Tears and Alcohol KissesPlease let me know what you think of this chapter - it's my first time seriously writing anything like this and I'd like to know whether I did it justice or not. :3
She broke the silence by murmuring his name. She said it with such familiarity that his heart skipped a beat and it felt like he'd been pulled into the past or an unreachable alternate future. It was beautiful, but it was bitter. Hearing it, he was in agony.
He waited for her to say more. He knew it was coming, and awaited with anticipation.
"Jiyong..."
His heart leapt again. He had no idea what would come next, but to hear the tender, loving words she used to say, he'd be the happiest idiot alive.
She opened to speak, and Jiyong's heart raced again. Her eyes held some familiar emotion, and somehow, he knew she was caving in.
"... You should go home." She her heel, already walking away.
What?
No! cried Jiyong's heart. He couldn't let her go. Not again! Never again! Heck, he'd even walked out of a photoshoot for this!
Without thinking, he stumbled forward and reached out to her hand, latching onto her wrist. "No, Scout, hold on a minute."
With a violent tug, she yanked her wrist out of his grasp. "No, Jiyong! I've waited months for you, I'm not waiting any longer!"
"Scout, wait-"
"I'M HAPPY NOW, JIYONG!" she screamed, silencing him, almost winding him.
What?
...Happy?
The word was foreign to him. His jaw dropped. His mind was blank and there were no words for him to use. He had nothing to say and no ground to stand on.
A single pristine tear rolled down her cheek at that moment. Her lips quivered and her gaze was intense, her eyes wild with hurt and hate, screaming for him to leave.
Yet, for some reason, Jiyong felt he needed to wipe that tear from her face, despite the fact she looked like she could commit murder in the blink of an eye right now. That darned tear, he just couldn't stand seeing it there. And so, slowly, as if not to scare an invisible butterfly, he took one step closer and rested one hand on her shoulder, using the other to gently brush away the tear, catching it on his finger. The butterfly hadn't moved and she hadn't exploded yet. Instead, she looked up at him with a tearful gaze, not knowing when he'd gotten close enough to feel his breathing on her face.
He was being delicate with her, the way he'd always been. She'd missed it - dreadfully so. The affection in his eyes was beautiful. He seemed to share her every feeling, understand her more than anyone else could, right down to the core. Seeing it, she felt complete.
Before he realised exactly what he was doing, he was already leaning towards her. They were close enough that their noses were touching. It was the closest they'd been in months.
Jiyong pushed another tear from her cheek, brushing his thumbs gently over her eyes, holding her cheeks tenderly.
He whispered, his voice shaky as he tried to keep his own tears back; "If you were happy, you wouldn't be crying, darling."
His eyes fluttered closed and he felt the familiar sensation of his lips on hers. It was blissful - a leap to daylight out of a nightmare. He'd needed it so much that he felt he could finally breathe, knowing he was part of her again.
Her lips were warm in contrast to his raw and wintry ones. They were soft where his were dry and chapped. The affection was wistfully challenged, but it didn't stop the cliche fireworks exploding.
Caught up in their little world, her hands made their way to his shoulders, her umbrella dropped and clattered to the floor, allowing the monsoon to rain down on the both of them, mingling with the fresh tears on both their faces. She clutched his broad, frozen shoulders, yearning to get closer.
His hand complied and wound round her waist, pulling her even closer and holding her against his body. He never wanted to let her go - not ever again.
The fingertips of his other hand brushed against her cheek again, simply savoring the fact that she was with him, ensuring she was real. It seemed too good to be true. In the slow, gentle kiss, she was breathing through her nose and he could feel the soft, sweet clouds against his cheek. He took comfort in it - her breathing had always calmed him. Dying to communicate, he caught her bottom lip between his and gently nibbled.
In response to the soft pleasure, her words left her in a sigh and she didn't realise when she slipped her hands into his hair, tangling her fingers into his sodden, raveled strands, holding onto the feeling. She missed this; more than he could ever know.
The times they'd had together flashed through her mind. All their small moments. The simple ones. The feel of his fingers laced in her hair brought back the feel of their legs tangled together beneath the sheets many nights ago. The rain was the tears they'd cried together, the time they needed each other most. His heartbeat - steady, loud, singing with joy - was the heartbeat that was her lullaby night after night. Without it... No wonder she hadn't been sleeping well lately.
She unlatched her fingers from his drenched hair and clung to his shoulders again, keeping him close. Their lips parted briefly for breath before latching together once more, caressing fervidly in a whir of steamy breath and alcohol kisses.
She didn't know up from down or right from wrong anymore. Her mind was a haze of love, lust and hate and an alarm bell went off in her head - she shouldn't be doing this, no matter how much she wanted, no, needed it.
Unwillingly, hesitantly, she pushed her lips against his one last time, tasting the rain on him before burying her face in the crook of his neck, keeping her lips from his, terminating any chance of lip-to-lip contact. She'd crave it too much if they continued - would she ever be able to stop?
She slipped her arms around his waist, his water-logged shirt sticking to her arms. It threw him off-guard but he recuperated quickly and let his arms wrap around her small frame, returning the affection.
His lips, once dry and frosty, were now moist and toasty. His face was flushed, his hands and heart were shaking - the one person who ever meant anything to him was protected by his arms. Nothing could come between their bodies - not even the rain.
Though, somehow, everything had come between them.
A sob. Was it his or hers? Her nails dug into his back and his heart wrenched. He knew the answer. He her hair, Don't cry, he pleaded, Please don't cry.
It was too much for her. Falling in love was just too much to deal with - no one could ever love her like Jiyong could. No one could ever break her heart like he did, either.
She held him tighter and wept into his chest as he ran his fingers through her hair.
Jiyong said nothing to her - he knew not to pry. He let her tears fall as she cried her heart out. The rain continued to fall and the street remained empty. The world carried on without the lovers, who's hearts were locked firmly in love. There was no way they could keep track of time - how long did he hold her for? An hour? Two hours? It could have only been thirty seconds, for all he knew.
He didn't know much, anymore.
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