September 21, 2013

A warm sensation snakes around me, giving me an impeccable feeling. I relax my tense limbs and settle closer to the warmth. I wrap my arms around the soft pillow in front of me and bury my nose into it. I take in its clean scent and let out a peaceful sigh. The sun’s rays directly aim for my eyelid and I regain consciousness while groaning. That’s when I realized it smelled more like cologne and alcohol. My eyes flew open and all I see is someone’s bare, toned chest rising up and down. I shove the perpetrator away and sit up, “What the hell!?” My eyes land on his face and I freeze. He was unmistakably handsome, with caramel-like skin and dark brown hair. The sheets feel off his body, revealing his well-toned abs and his jeans which were hanging low from his waist, displaying his black, Levi boxers.

“Quiet down, Ji Eun,” he stirred. Ji Eun? Who the hell is Ji Eun?

“Get out!” I roughly push him off the bed and he lands on the floor with a thump.  

“What the hell,” he groans, agitated that his sleep has been disturbed. He looked up at me and his eyes widened, “Who the hell are you.”

I scoff; I should be the one that asks that question, “Who the hell are you?”

“What’s happening in-” Mrs. Kim walks in. “Oh. You’re home,” she sighed, disappointment filled her eyes. “Where were you last night?”

“I was out,” he simply replied.

I stare at the two in disbelief. What is happening here? Who is he and why was he in my bed, hugging me? “Uhm…” I clear my throat and they look at me like they totally forgot about me. “What the hell is going on,” I bluntly ask.

“Jongin,” – she crosses her arms over her chest – “get dressed and we’ll talk about this downstairs,” she nods to me before leaving. He, Jongin, ruffles his tempting hair and walks out of my room. I hesitantly remove the comforter from my body and place my feet on the cold, tile floor. I rub my face harshly, removing the sleep from my face and deeply sigh. I absolutely hate waking up in the morning – eight thirty, the clock said – especially at this time. Now, I’m going to have a bad, agitated attitude for two hours, and I didn’t want to yell at the Kims like I know I would. It was another “condition” I had.

I wake up easily; if you walked, as quietly as you can, into my room, I would wake up immediately, and when I woke up, I’d stay awake. That’s why I hated it when people try to take me up, it’s that I can’t go back to sleep after I do whatever they wanted. It’s exactly the reason why my parents, as well as my friends, don’t bother to wake me up anymore because I would yell at them, blinded with anger, and they would feel sorry and scared afterwards.

I find myself glaring at this “Jongin” and wanting to hit him badly for waking me up, even if it wasn’t really his fault. But it kind of was because he just happened to end up in my bed and that was the reason I woke up. I didn’t even look away when he glared back at me; it was like a glaring competition, and I despise losing. The game became more intense and he shifts his body so he was now completely facing me. The air was polluted with the dark auras we emitted and it felt suffocating, but I was a winner and winners don’t give up.

He looked away first when his mother stepped down into the living room and I smirked. I always win. She had on the red, silk robe that she had on earlier and her straight, brown hair was scooped over on top of her left shoulder. She looked even more beautiful without makeup; it was like she had an angelic glow around her. She was most likely the queenka in her high school years.  I wish I was as pretty as her, but I loathe being the center of attention so I shook the thought off.

“Mi Hyun, dear, I’m sorry if he scared you,” – she shook her head and sighed in disappointment – “but he lives here. He is my son, Kim Jongin.” Something tells me that she wasn’t exactly proud of that fact. I don’t think I would be either if I found my child coming home late at night and sleeping with our guest. “Jongin,” – she hissed – “Mi Hyun will be staying here for three months. Be on your best behavior.” I don’t think it went straight to him, like it almost done downloading but it failed to install because he just rolled his eyes and jogged back upstairs. “Aish, that kid,” she throws her hands up, defeated. She looks at me and weakly smiles, “Even if he seems like a bad person, and I make him sound like one, he’s not. He used to be a really good kid, never wanted to leave his parent’s side” – her eyes water – “And I have no idea what happened,” she sobs.

There’s a tug on the string of my heart as I watch her break down in front of me. Does he know he’s making his mother cry? I hated it when people made others cry the most, and I could write a freaking book about the things I hated. How could he do this to someone that gave birth to him? To someone who loves him the most in this world? This was absolutely unbelievable. I bite down on my lip hard to prevent myself from crying also. I have to do it. For her… “How about we go shopping?” I know it’s probably the most stupid thing to say at a time like this but trust me, shoppers loved to shop.

Her face immediately brightens, “Really?” She didn’t wait for me to answer before she rushed back upstairs and got ready. I chuckle as I made my way up the stair case. It was amusing how she felt better instantly, or was she just acting? I came to a rigid stop. Did I just fall into her trap? I fell to my feet in defeat. I did, didn’t I?

After a painful ten minutes of coping, I made my way to my temporary room and get changed. I put on the regular skinny jeans and combat boots, along with a flowy, white tee that has “XOXO” printed in red in the front, and matching bracelets. I straighten my uncontrollable, curly hair and did the usual prayer, asking for my hair to stay straight for the rest of the day. I slip my white, iPhone 4s, my ear buds, and my wallet into my black colored, petite backpack and slung it over my shoulders. I felt as if I was going to school even though it was the weekends but I abhor purses and I already got my phone stolen when it was in my back pocket; I definitely not going to do that again.

Once I was satisfied with how I looked, I made my way back downstairs and caught Jongin about to leave. He had on a white shirt that complemented his torso and dark navy jeans. I could see a necklace but it fell under his shirt, like he was hiding it. His black hair was styled up and away from his face. I felt a blush rise up my cheeks as I got a better look at his face. He wasn’t just handsome… he was y. I shivered, feeling a cold chill run down my spine. Why am I thinking about this? I miss a step and end up falling down the stairs instead of walking down. Why was I so clumsy? I never felt so embarrassed; I’ve never felt embarrassed before. He just stared at me like I was the dumbest thing in the world.

“You’re so stupid,” he murmurs and makes his way out the door. What’s that supposed to mean? Shouldn’t he say I’m so clumsy? Or was he talking to someone else? It couldn’t be; he looked straight into my eyes when he said that. But it was evident in his eyes that he was talking to someone else and for some reason, my heart hurts. 

(A/N): OMG I finally finished my homework. Stupid school.... did you guys like this chapter?