Changbin went through the door, his nose red and lips were swollen plump.
He looks like he just woke up. I suppressed my laughs at his grumpy face. He walked straight to his desk after saying his good morning exchanges with the others before giving me a nod.
He put his bag down and stared outside the window. His Gucci Versace perfume lingers in the air as he passed by.
I had fun last night.
I should thank him for housing Mel. I don't know how much I got stuck with Bin so much these days.
It's a peaceful day. The breeze of the wind is light. It's as if the stench of the alcohol and blood just hours ago never existed.
I'm stiff still. But it's bearable.
I stood up, bearing my sore limbs and walked outside, I really can't move properly, but I still went out, like I usually do, to push the buttons on the vending machine for a canned drink, this time to give Binnie something that would go along with the medicine for headache. He looked like he woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning. It's the least that I could do after hand feeding him that good amount of alcohol last night beside the ones he snatched from me..
A hand then grabbed me tightly.
People should stop grabbing me from outta nowhere. It's getting out of hand.
"Would you stop doing that, Jisung?" Chan's growling and angry face took me by surprise. The canned drink clanged on the metal surface inside the vendo, ready to be taken.
Yes, I've been doing it for months already ever since the class started again or maybe even before that.
But this time, for the first time in a long time, the drink I consistently leave on his desk every morning, isn't for him.
I think I'm letting go. Chan-hyung.
This isn't for you and It's actually relieving.
It's a different drink. And it's not for Christopher.
I, Han Jisung, is actually liking rains now.
"Don't worry, Chris, It's not for you." I composed myself, and reassured him, grabbing my hands back and licked my blistered lips. He frowned. I crouched down took the beverage and showed him innocently. He looked a bit dumbfounded, seeing it's not the usual brand I always give him. It's not his favorite.
He looked dumbfounded and kind of sad?
I smiled bitterly but I need to keep myself together.
It almost seemed like he can't get over the fact that it wasn't for him.
"See?" I said with a hint of pride upon his mistake, tucking my lips to an apologetic smile in trying to not set off any charges. I finally got the reaction I wanted after all this time. Yet, I'm regretting now that I finally got it. It's the face filled with guilt and longing from him.
I don't want it the same way I did before.
"Stop acting like you don't-" He ran his hands on his face in exasperation.
"Don't, what?" I said right back, widening my eyes with a hostility. I need to stand my ground.
"I don't what?" I asked once again.
He yanked my collar. I groaned and trembled, being reminded of the abuse that falls upon me day by day, I need to get a grip, shutting my eyes and breathing in slowly.
"Chris, what are you doing?" I fumbled frantically, trying to get his hands off of me. He held so tight, I was scared. Chris could never lift a finger nor break a glass-
He pulled out the butterfly necklace hidden in my shirt. The force made me lunge so the lace won't break.
"Take it off." He said.
"N-No, this is mine." I grabbed the necklace with both my hands, leaning my back against the vendor pulling away from his strength. I need to stand my ground... It's mine.
Panic filled in me as I started to lose the battle of strength and I can't take his grip away from it. I desperately pulled the golden lace and the blue pendant in his palms.
"Chris, fucking let go!" I yelled.
"What's your problem?!" I hit his hands and arms repeatedly. My eyes are watering up and I couldn't breathe, I felt my wounds opening up.
"Stop calling me, Chris." He pulled the necklace from me in one snap, breaking the lace, and held it away. "No!"
It's the same phrase.
This time tears sprung helplessly and flowed down my cheeks as he threw it away, clutching at his arms and hands to retrieve the stolen treasure. My eyes didn't leave the necklace as I watched it fall from this height.
I would've yelled. But my strength isn't there. My voice isn't there. I was just drained.
I'm really tired. I looked up at him, blankly.
I can still feel the friction burning at my skin at the ripping. I fell to the floor, my back's sliding down against the vending machine. My fingers trailing from the arms that yanked me, down to his hands and fingertips, it all feels familiar, the feel of his skin brushing to mine.
It burns.
Like touching a kettle, boiling for tea. It's hissing aggressively.
I slowly looked down and stare off afar in between my sobs, all the curses kept inside my head...
"I hate you, Chris."
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