[EDITING]
When Jeon Jeongguk's sister gets engaged to his friend's brother, almost everything changes.
Desperate to hold onto a fragile friendship, Jeongguk is willing to get himself into sticky situations--even to the point of ruining his sister's...
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Chapter Thirty-Two: Three's a Crowd
Jeongguk couldn't find the hidden key that Haeji had told him about, so he knocked. Sejin was the one to let him in. Clearly busy with a thought, he didn't stop to talk, he simply greeted him and then excused himself, going directly back in the direction of his study, to presumably work on said thought.
Jeongguk headed to the kitchen, thirsty, to get himself a flask of lemonade. Deciding he wanted to drink it outside, as the sun was mellow in the late afternoon – and it felt like a waste to sit inside when the weather was so kind out – he walked towards the sunroom, for the door to the patio was through there. It was a gorgeous room; filled with couches and footrests, a coffee table and end tables, lamps, and plants (hanging from the ceiling, standing tall in the corners) – it was all quite beautiful. The issue was, that something else quite beautiful was sitting there, right there in one of the chairs.
And that something, was Taehyung.
Fuck.
His hair was messy, his feet were up on an ottoman. He was wearing his swim-shorts, his chest was bare and sculpted like a statue, juxtaposing the strong with the delicate, a small torso, flat stomach, yet sculpted, refined. In one hand he held a book, what book it was, Jeongguk couldn't see. His other hand was fiddling with his ear. His eyes were soft as they drifted over the pages, his body was relaxed, and Jeongguk was tense.
He had never seen him read before, never known him to be a lover of books, which was probably why it took him a split second longer to react and get the hell out before Taehyung saw him. But it was too late. Taehyung's gaze had already turned upward and was resting steadily on him, and only him. It didn't seem so soft anymore.
"Oh," he said. "Hello."
He was speaking to him.
Soft, but sharp – that was what his voice felt like. While it was warm it felt cold, it was far away but so very close, it was light, but it settled upon Jeongguk's eardrums with the heaviness amounting to a neutron star. It was a soothing purr, but it felt like a growl. He felt as if he were standing in the midst of a large cave, his own voice mixing with Taehyung's, echoes of everything he wanted to say and the things he should have done, the memory of the morning, when he had looked at Hoseok and told him, it would be just the two of them. The questions of his mind ventured out into the open, only to return back to him, many, many, many times. Some of them felt far away, some right against the drums of his ears and his mind was spinning, the voices engulfed him; they urged him to speak, to say something, but don't say that, and so he stood frozen to the spot until he managed to clear his throat and utter a feeble, "Hi," and nothing more.
He shifted, standing in the archway, not knowing whether to go into the room or run away. There was something in the air, he could sense it. A taste of silence, words that weren't being spoken. His mind was blank.
