Home Invasion || Park Jisung

09。forced proximity trope

Wednesday, 01:41 a.m.

"What?" Jisung hissed.

Outside, Nari could hear the muffled voice of their intruder— "Yo Hyun, 'that you?"

Nari's eyes darted frantically across the room, the air seemingly getting thinner as the walls of her tiny laundry room closed in on her— "oh my god, we're dead, this is it, they're gonna kill us—"

"Shut up!" Jisung snapped at her, spinning around in his spot as he scanned the uselessly cramped space. Moonlight spilled into the room from the small decor window— fuck, too small for them to fit through. His vision then rested on a closet space in the corner of the room, halfway closed by a dull, frilly curtain. The boy turned back to her— "get in."

"What?" Nari's voice came out shaky; she didn't know if she was hallucinating the footsteps that sounded like they were coming closer.

Jisung groaned, pulling her in— "just do it."

The tall boy pushed them in, closing the curtain behind them. Nari gave him an incredulous look, staring at the curtain with distaste. "Are you serious? This thing's translucent, they'll see our silhouettes!"

"Do you have a better idea?!"

Nari rolled her eyes, looking down at the few piles of laundry stacked neatly into baskets that separated the two of them. She mentally cursed herself for leaving these out here for so long, giving them less space in this small closet. However, another split second gave her a last-minute, almost far-fetched idea.

She looked up at the exasperated boy, fear and desperation etched in her eyes. "Dump the laundry."

"What?"

"Dump the laundry on the ground—" she scrambled to sprinkle her piles of laundry on the ground— "we'll hide under the clothes!"

Jisung tsked. "Are you serious?"

"Just do it," Nari growled.

Before she could take out the second batch of laundry, his hands stopped her— "wait."

She snapped up, ready to curse him out for being uncooperative when he suddenly instructed, "lie down."

What??

"Do you trust me?" He whispered, hands still clasped around her wrist.

Her eyes were bulging by now. "I think that's a big, fat fucking no—"

"oh my god, just—"

He pulled her in, causing her to trip over a lump of clothes and right against him with a slight yelp; he anticipated it, wrapping his arms around her before spinning her so that he was now slightly hovering over her. "Just get down."

She had lost control of her own footing, slowly letting him lower her until her back touched the floor. Before she could even protest, he straddled her thigh, shutting her up almost instantly.

"Grab more clothes," he commanded; she nodded helplessly, reaching for the remaining clothes as he leaned down to her, now hovering closely on top of her. "Put the clothes on top of me." Without warning, he laid down on top of her, almost knocking the air out of her lungs before letting her adjust to being under him.

They were finally moving in sync: they grabbed the laundry that had spilled around them haphazardly and even beyond the closet, spreading them anxiously on top of them to cover them from view— more specifically on top of Jisung— until the boy finally whispered, "okay, done."

As if the universe timed it, the second they established a position, the door to the closet door swung open. Nari fought to keep her breath steady, clamping her eyes shut as she felt big hands by her sides, the evenly-distributed weight falling over her protectively.

Eerily calm bootsteps prompted her eyes to glisten with tears, but Nari held it in. After a few dull thuds, the footsteps stopped. Nari held her breath and just like that, she heard the curtains draw back with a painfully shrill shred.

The world around her stopped, and in that brief, outstretched second, she focused on the warm torso that was pressed against her, feeling the short strands of ruffled hair tickle her forehead.

The short moment was broken by a baritone chuckle. "This family must fuckin' hate laundry day."

Once again, she heard the curtain slide to a close, the solemn steps tapping the floor until it faded away into the living room.

Her heart weakened, the muscles in her body loosening so much so that she felt she might just simply pass away. 

09。❝ forced proximity trope ❞