MY COWORKER - KIM DOYOUNG

.6

"Fine. You want us to have fun? Let's play a game then."

"A game?"

"Yes", he replies, determined, and fills both of your glasses again. "We'll ask each other questions. It can be anything, but we'll answer genuinely. If you don't want to answer, you drink. Got it?"

"Fine, but I'll go first."

"Shoot."

"Why did you offer to come with me to this wedding? And I want a real answer."

"Do you really think I hate you so much?"

"You can't answer my question with a question!"

"Technically, it's a clarification. Doesn't count."

"Oh my god, you're so annoying", you groan, wondering if it'd be against the rules to drink even if you don't lose a round, "You barely talk to me at the school, you avoid me and argue with me on practically anything. So I'd say yes: I do think you really hate me that much."

He sighs and withers in his seat a little, looking regretful.

"I don't hate you. I think you're a good friend. And a brilliant teacher. And you can be fun when you want to be. That's why I came with you to the wedding."

"You still haven't stopped arguing with me since we came here though."

Doyoung shrugs.

"It's hot when you talk back."

He doesn't look at you, his hands and eyes occupied on the baby's breath from earlier to ease his nerves. Just as you open your mouth to say something, he asks you a question.

"Why didn't you say anything after I came out of the bathroom this morning? You know, to let me know you were awake? I truly thought you'd be sleeping. I mean, you yell at me for way less."

For a passing moment, you consider drinking and opting out from giving an answer. Your hand twitches and almost reaches out to the champagne in front of you, yet eventually, you decide against it. The questions will probably get gradually harder anyways.

"At first I saw all the pillows on the floor. I was sprawled out in the middle of the bed, the door opened and I panicked. And then..."

You hesitate to continue further.

"We said truthfully, remember?"

You exhale a deep breath out.

"Then I saw how you looked fresh out of the shower."

"And?"

"And I wanted to look at you a little more."

Doyoung hums, the corner of his lips tugging up subtly.

"If you don't actually hate me, why do you avoid me at work? And don't you dare deny it."

The man next to you laughs, dropping his head back and letting his black locks hang freely. You're not sure if it's the alcohol that's heightened your senses, but you submerge yourself in the silvery sound of his laughter. You stare at the pretty blue veins on the side of his neck, watching his adam's apple bob up and down. When he smiles like that he looks nice, you think. Mellow.

"I take my work very seriously. I want to do things well. And when you're around, I can't do that. You distract me, I guess."

"I distract you? How?"

Doyoung's eyes rake at your body twice, suddenly making you overconscious of every inch of skin that the mini dress you chose to wear tonight manages to cover up. Or rather, the parts of your body that it doesn't.

He doesn't answer further, drinking instead. You can see his eyes getting glossy from the alcohol, his pupils dilated. You're certain you look like that as well.

"My turn. At the rehearsal, you were shocked that I teared up. Do you not believe in marriage?"

"I don't know about marriage", you admit after pondering for a bit, "But I do believe in lifelong partners. Do you?"

"I want one", he confesses, "But I don't know if I'm meant to have one."

"Why not?"

"I don't know", he sighs almost defeatedly, a bitter smile on his face, "I'm scared of that level of happiness, I think. I tend to avoid love."