Chapter 37

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"You . . ." Hiro softly says, at lost.

Gulping and wishing he'd be better off buried ten feet deep on the ground, Jin's heart begins to pound, and his feeble body continues to sag, betraying him. If it weren't for Hiro's support on his waist, he was better off getting disposed, lifeless, taking up the rest of the space in the back seat, and cracked his neck dead by the window on his side.

Which by thinking, he's ever so thankful that the crooked idea present in his head as the cause of his death didn't happen. On the second thought, he would have preferred it would if it was the only way to escape the shame.

Submerge into deep mortification, his temple begins to ache, and the back of his head starts to pulse in fret at the sight of an awakened danger before him, the unspecified chaos inside Hiro's mystic eyes.

Suddenly, he doesn't feel so well. His stomach agrees so.

"Eyes here," cupping both of Jin's cheeks to keep his head steady at gaze, Hiro softly and calmly spoke, his thumb pressing against the softest snow-white skin his sinful finger had held in contact.

The young fellow's small jaw fitted perfectly between his hands, causing a shrill to run down his spine, vibrating towards his growing tent, yet soothing the itchiness of his fingers, tamed and now under control.

Jin held his breath, keeping a cool façade, and restrained down his too chaotic thoughts.

He's close, too close.

With his fumbled thoughts, he couldn't focus on what was happening, let alone think straight at the moment.

What was that he said? "Ice?" Is he referring to him?

His freezing skin? His coldness?

What does he mean?

'You're panicking,' his subconscious starts to run in circles, hands shaking above his head and totally freaking out more than he is.

Jesus, he's not helping.

"I'm s-sorry," he stared apologetically at the man in front of him with an emotion lingering in his eyes that he can't name, and suddenly he blanked out due to panic.

What was he even sorry for?

The glint inside Hiro's eyes mirrored his anxious ones until they changed altitudes and spatter with amusement.

Talk about horrible mood swings.

"S-Sorry," Jin adds, flustered, flustered in embarrassment. He was stupefied of himself, realizing he already apologized twice.

If he were to tell him what he actually thought and felt within, would that offend him?

Would his honesty disgust him?

Perhaps, he's suffering the same? The dominating overwhelmness? He doesn't even know if that word existed in the dictionary.

Jin's lips thinned, annoyed. He then puffed his cheeks, tired of searching for an answer as his eyes surveyed the soft expression on Hiro's face.

How would this man suppose to know?

Unexpected and out of blue, Hiro leans back, tilt his chin up, and burst into a peal of full and mellow laughter that completely caught Jin off guard.

His once tired eyes burned with joy that could light up Hongwon while his baritone voice bounces into thin air, complimenting the carefree look on his face as his dimples resurface on sight.

Lethal, and it killed him twice.

Jin gapes at him in silence, secretly admiring the sight, admiring the sound of his laughter. It was disarming yet attractive. It was like looking at a rare sophisticated painting, not ever knowing the sounds trapped inside, but then suddenly came alive.

His heart felt full, so full and already brimming with admiration and appreciation, yet it felt so wrong to feel this way. It felt as if he took advantage of the trust this man placed down on his plate.

Why does everything this man does and do affect him? Why does he make him feel funny inside?

Positively and pleasingly funny . . . but oddly pleasurable too.

No matter how tempting it looks—he looks, he can't just devour and destroy it, would he? Or maybe this is a warning in disguise and maybe the best thing to do is to leave the table and leave the tempting call behind?

He doesn't know anymore. He doesn't even know what's waiting for him ahead, whether it's pleasing or dangerous.

This is all a fascinating mystification for him, all too new, and this man was not an exception. He's like the depths of the ocean, so full of mystery, mysteries which questioned him about the things he doesn't know about himself.

'I thought you had enough on your plate for today?' His subconscious smirks, hands on his waist and then he saw him swaying his hips from side to side, loving the thrill of Mr. Mystery himself.

Oh, please.

Frankly, he's lost, drowned, or maybe castaway is a better word for a metaphor. He's both lost and helpless under the deep seas with harsh waves ahead.

He's left confused in the dark, with no light to accompany him which path to swim and run.

"Care to share your thoughts?" Hiro intrudes, "You have a bad habit of panicking at the wrong places," He swore to Odin to give him a penny in exchange for this little one's deep secretive thoughts or even more from dirt to gold.

Jin blinks at him absentmindedly. Panicking?

"I-I'm not," How can he tell? "What made you say that?"

'He's psychic,' His witty subconscious has his head submerged into his ever-so-helpful pamphlet which has a whole encyclopedia of data and the information he has acquired from a man who piqued his little interest and attention.

Now another fact is proven.

Hiro grins sheepishly, "Whenever you do, you'll turn pale."

Jin meets his gaze, and what greeted him this time was Hiro's worried coal-black eyes.

"I'm always pale," he replied calmly as possible, but the nervousness in his voice was visible.

Stubborn, "Paler," Hiro breathes.

His other hand catches one of Jin's shivering hands from his back, and as his warm and wide palm connects with Jin's delicate ones, he gently caresses his soft icy skin and traces his thumb around the edges of his clean nail.

His eyes soften, seeing how small it is compared to the size of his. Fear begins to blossom in his chest, horrified whether a single rash movement from his can break these too delicate bones.

He breathes in deeply, wanting to imprint his addicting scent to his nostrils and lungs as oxygen.

If it was possible, he would exchange any fortune to have this exquisitely all to himself with no one else to share. His eyes grew dark, and the weather inside him begins to change.

Maybe he would.

He's beyond territorial of his possession, let alone these new odd, but pleasurable things he's craving to possess.

When his eyes catch a glimpse of what expression the small man before him wore, he wavers. It was close to fear and anxiety, emotions he was very fond of seeing in his world, and he would bow to anyone and do anything in the world to see none of it no more.

"Let's get you home," Hiro whispers, the magical sound he heard a while ago that might awaken another addiction on line momentarily slips inside his head as it was replaced by worry, too much worry, that also feels odd and foreign to him.

He loathes the feeling of it and never will swallow a soul to make it an exception of a lifetime.

Slowly and with a heavy heart, their arms loosened and grew apart from each other as Hiro slides the window on his side down by pressing a button beside his seat, and as soon as he did, all heads on sight turned to his, including the passersby.







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