Home Invasion || Park Jisung

10。confessions

Wednesday, 01:53 a.m.

How long had they been staying like this?

Head buried into the crook of his neck, legs intertwined, arms wrapped tightly around his torso. Just half an hour ago, if you would've told Nari she'd be in this exact position not shy of an hour later, she would scream. But now, she was holding onto him for dear life, convinced that any movement would set off the burglar to kill them both.

Nonetheless, both teenagers knew they couldn't stay in this position forever; when the silence around them matched that of pin-drop silence, Nari slowly released the boy from her arms, letting his palms press against the floor on either sides of her before pushing himself— and a ridiculous amount of clothes— off of her.

He leaned against one side of the closet, inhaling a large amount of fresh air as Nari lifted herself as well and propped herself against the opposite side.

It was strange, but she couldn't look him in the eye. It was true that the whole our-houses-being-robbed scenario should've cancelled out any other preceding emotions, but she found herself too out of breath and out of courage to look up at him.

That was until he broke the silence. "Are you okay?"

She looked up at him, cringing at how loud his voice came out, even though she knew well enough that he was whispering. She nodded slowly, surprisingly calmed once she actually made eye-contact with him.

He shifted in his spot— "we have to get out of here."

"Are you crazy?" She retorted. "The guys are probably still out there!"

"What—" he cocked an eyebrow— "you wanna stay in here until they've left with everything we own?"

She stayed rooted in her spot, crossing her arms together. "It's better than getting hurt, asswipe."

The boy sighed in frustration, sitting back in between her fresh laundry with a little tut. "Has anyone ever told you how unbearably uptight you are?"

"Has any one of those girls you brought over ever told you how much of a fuckboy you are?"

She expected him to frown, but instead, he let out a cocky scoff. "Are you jealous?"

"Please—" she rolled her eyes, exaggerating it to make sure he could see it even under the dim lighting— "I couldn't care less."

"Well, generally speaking, a person who 'couldn't care less' wouldn't be staring into my window every opportunity she gets."

She gave the boy an incredulous look, annoyance brimming in her chest— "you think I want to see all the abominable shit I see every day? I rinse my eyes with bleach every day because of you."

"Whatever." This time he rolled his eyes, looking away; maybe it was the pale lighting, but she thought she saw a sliver of hurt flash through his eyes. Why did she feel bad about going off on him?

For the first time, she didn't like the silence. 

It felt weird that he wasn't coming up with an insult to try and provoke her. She opened her mouth to try and throw another jab— anything to fill the silence— when Jisung pressed a finger against his lips, nudging her by the knees. "Shh— be quiet."

She felt her heart rate derail again as muffled bangs and shuffles filled the air; she didn't know if her erratic heartbeat was because of the fact that there were literal burglars ransacking her home at this very moment, or if it was because his warm hands were gripping her lower thigh.

As soon as the random noises died down, she slapped his hand away, fearing that it might've been the reason her breaths were falling short. He leaned back against the wall, his blasé attitude apparent even in the dark.