fire/fī(ə)r/

Verb: Discharge a gun or other weapon in order to explosively propel (a bullet or projectile).

JHS

“It’s your fault you’re sick, you know.” The solid glare he sent was impressive, especially when the rest of his appearance was considered. Hyunseung was wearing a huge gray v-neck and pajama pants. His skin was abnormally pale and clammy and his hair was –dare she say it- lank. The singer had a cold, with a sore throat and a nose that spent its time deciding whether it was going to be runny or stopper-like.

“Shut up.” He scowled, taking a sullen mouthful of soup. “How did you even find out I was sick?”

“Everyone else came in to pick up their clothes today. You didn’t. You have to pay a holding fee now, by the way.” She fought her grin and tossed her long brown hair over her shoulder as the man glowered into his bowl.

“Why did you care?”

“I don’t care,” she replied quickly, shifting her eyes to the fridge. They had those alphabet magnets (she guessed to help them learn to spell in English better, or maybe they just thought the letters were pretty) stuck in a gigantic horde in the middle of the door. Towards the bottom, someone had arranged the word ‘poop’ before leaving with the rest of the band for the day’s schedules. The maturity level in the dorm was palpable. Across the bar, Hyunseung made a snorting noise.

“Really?”

“Is it so hard to believe?”

“Why is my fault that I’m sick?”

“It’s rude to answer a question with a question.” The dancer glared and the girl smirked, before her expression turned scolding. “How many times have I told you to quit going outside when your hair is wet? It is winter. Half the time it freezes to your stupid fa-”

“It’s unhealthy for your hair to blow-dry it all the time,” Hyunseung interrupted, his tone defensive. “And I have places to go.”

“So then wear a hat.”

“And have hat hair? Never.”

“You’re such an idiot,” she stated flippantly, rolling her eyes. “You’re going to give yourself pneumonia, and-”

“I thought you didn’t care.”

“I don’t care!”

“Then why,” Hyunseung asked, twirling his spoon and raising his huge eyes to hers, “are you here?”

And the truth was, she really had no idea. One minute she was waving the majority of BEAST from her mother’s dry-cleaning shop, and the next she was at the store hunting for chicken soup and orange juice and comparing prices on cough syrup. It was beyond understanding, really, especially since she and Hyunseung had never really talked before. They’d said hellos and goodbyes, of course, and even bickered playfully about the context of the various stains on his clothes (he loved greasy food, as it turned out, the skinny ). But it had never gone further than that, and now here she was at his house, a question that she couldn’t answer hanging in the air like the smog over Seoul. So she did what any normal person would do.

She lied her off.

“If the lead dancer and one of the lead singers of BEAST dies from whatever grotesque strain of nasty you’re carrying, the band will never be the same, because BEAST isn’t BEAST without a princess. They’d plummet to the bottom of the charts and then they wouldn’t have enough money to pay for dry-cleaning, and since you people are half of my store’s business, I’d be royally screwed.” The girl shrugged. “It’s a purely economic good deed.”

Hyunseung looked like he was fighting laughter, and she honestly didn’t know whether or not to feel offended. “Economic good deed?”

“What can I say, I’m fiscal.”

“So you’re just in it for the money, huh?” He was looking at her again, his voice back to normal.

“Pretty much,” she muttered, and she felt like she could’ve come up with a better lie. She averted her gaze to the counter.

The thing about Hyunseung –or, Hyunseung’s thing, rather, was that he had these eyes. They were gigantic, first off, like doey deer eyes that could see every move you made and covered you seamlessly with their intensity. Also, there was the fact that she wasn’t actually sure what color they were. Somewhere in between a chocolatey honey, she had decided, and a golden coffee. The fact that she had contemplated this so much was terrifying, now that she thought about it.

“I think…” he said slowly, finger tracing the rim of his bowl, soup cold and forgotten, “that you’re lying.” Staring at her.

And then there was the fact that every emotion the man had ever had ever was showcased in those gorgeous orbs for the entire world to see. And while some may consider that a weakness on his part, once you faced him head on your thoughts would be changed. Because his stupid pretty face was so honest and right there, and all the happy and hurt and sadness and joy he felt could be easily seen, it had about the same effect as trying to lie to a little kid. The innocence was just too much, and you always ended up backing out.

Unfortunately.

“Why would I lie?”

“Because you care.” She sighed an exasperated sigh and glared up at him, which would ultimately be her undoing. But she fought a valiant battle, and it’s the thought that counts, anyway.

“I don’t…” But her voice trailed off because suddenly his face was so much closer to hers than it had been before, and the only thing that could possibly be more worth looking at than his glowing, sparking, fiery eyes were his lips, and she wasn’t sure, but-

And then he kissed her, and she didn’t have to think about it anymore. He was just as intense with her eyes closed.

JHS

“It’s your fault you’re sick, you know,” Hyunseung said insolently, handing her another tissue.

“Shut the hell up.”

JHS

Author's Note: I wrote the entire thing and then accidentally deleted it. Which was some BingS. So if it I blame it on that. Um.. yeah, so enjoy.