#1 TOXIC SERIES
It's the typical Enemies to Lovers story, flavored by yours truly.
Raised in the same neighborhood and social circle, Minho and Hyunjin know each other far too well. Both families are well-known chaebols with deep roots in the South...
You know that feeling when you are on a roller-coaster and you're getting pulled to the top? You sit front row and you reach this tipping point. You can see the long fall down and at that moment you're regretting your life choices. Swallowing before the rest of the carts are also over the curve, and try to swallow again one last time. That moment feels like forever and you're not able to get out.
We are reaching that point. Ready to fall down.
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It took the fever five minutes to make the water in the bag lukewarm. It took me another ten minutes to find my balls because I clearly lost them right now.
I had touched the zipper of Lee's jacket three times by now, and with the fourth try, I finally mustered the courage to zip it down. The plastic little teeth sounded like a freaking chainsaw when the fly went over them, all the way down—which felt like a never-ending mission ready to fail.
Carefully, I folded the jacket open. I grabbed one arm to remove its sleeve, then the other. I wasn't afraid anymore of dying from the cold. I was fucking perspiring while holding my breath as I dissected Lee from his clothes like I was playing the nerve-wracking game Operation. You know, that buzzing game when you had to remove organs each turn? I sucked at it.
The jacket was gone. I pondered while my finger tapped against my lip about how I was able to get rid of his black thermo sweater. That turtleneck must feel like a death grip now that he felt this sick. This made me wonder again, why the fuck he was being such a pain in the ass in the first place.
"Fuck it." My fingers pinched the hem of his sweater. I was hunched over as I slid the fabric up. Sculpted abs came into view, one by one. I could see the slight discoloration on his toned skin through the darkness. I smirked, knowing I inflicted that.
His stomach rose and fell steadily, reassuring me Lee was still deep asleep. So I continued pushing up the sweater, ready to pull an arm out. But my movement faltered. First, I wanted to curse at him for sporting a faint eighth set of abs beneath his sternum. But my throat went dry real quick when I noticed the different ridge curving in those abs.
"Holy shit." My face inched closer to get a better look. A sickle-shaped scar, an almost enclosed circle, the size of my fist was carved into Lee's skin. The pink, jagged skin looked old but never lost its angry form through time.
I let go of his sweater, feeling conflicted. Lee still had a fever and wasn't cooling down, so he needed to get rid of most of his clothing. But if I did, I knew he would know that I knew of the scar he tried to hide. Now I understood why he never showed skin. He didn't want people to know, and that made me feel bad for him. Which was another level of fucked up. Trapped in a cabin with my enemy was messing with my head.
