WINE: Kim Namjoon One shots

3️⃣cute neighbors🍷Part 2

His fingertip remains paused just before my cleavage, his eyes locked onto mine. I whisper back, "Why aren't you saying this before?" He chuckles deeply, his laughter a warm caress against my skin. "As if you'd readily accept it back then!"

He withdraws his fingertip from my skin, and instantly, I feel a void. The fingers that used to comfort me, the ones that wrapped around me protectively, are now sending sensations through me for the first time.

Honestly, I have a huge crush on him since childhood. But I never got any hints from him. He always provided me with a comfortable space, like a brother, a best friend. So, I started finding other crushes, trying to divert my attention from him. And now he's telling me he likes me, loves me. But then, why does he always call me cute?

With that question, his intense gaze replays in my mind, and I feel my cheeks burning. I snap back to reality when I hear him release a heavy sigh.

He stands near the bed, absentmindedly rubbing his fingers on his neck. He turns to me but avoids meeting my eyes, his gaze fixed on the floor. "Umm, sorry. I didn't mean to treat you like an object. It's just... I guess I'm jealous, maybe. Sorry."

After uttering his apology, he swiftly moves towards me and undoes the belt from my hands. "Change out of your wet dress, or you'll catch a cold. If you want, you can go home too," he adds, guilt evident in his eyes as he examines my wrists for any red marks.

All I want to do is kiss him passionately, to erase that guilt from his eyes. But what if he regrets the kiss too? Even though he was so close, he managed to control his urge to kiss me, right?

After he releases my wrists, I hurry towards the washroom, closing the door and leaning my body against it. 

We've always been open with each other from childhood; seeing him shirtless isn't anything new. However, since he started going to the gym and became more muscular, I've found it difficult to look at him directly. It's not shyness; it's fear. What if he discovers I've been secretly admiring his body? Despite this, our comfort level remains unchanged. I never hesitated to sit on his lap or sleep beside him. But when he started discouraging our shared sleeping arrangements, it hurt. Yet, I'm stubborn enough to persist.

My thoughts come to a halt when a knock resonates through the door frame. I respond, "Yes." He clears his throat, his voice soft, "I've left a t-shirt and shorts for you. Wear these." I reply, "Okay."

His caring nature towards me, how can I not fall for him? Stupid.

I gaze at myself in the mirror. My chubby cheeks, doe-like eyes, and plump lips are the reasons people call me cute. I fall somewhere between having a perfectly curvy body and being considered overweight. I've contemplated going to the gym many times, but he's the one who always reassures me, saying, "You're perfect just the way you are. No need for a diet."

I take in the scent of his clothes after changing into them. How can someone smell so good? Whenever I sleep here, I insist on wearing his t-shirt, just to be enveloped in its fragrance.

Staring at myself in the mirror, I notice how the length of the t-shirt makes the shorts redundant, almost covering my thick thighs. His shorts, on the other hand, feel more like capris on me.

I step outside, finding him already lying on the bed, engrossed in a book. Playing with my fingers nervously, I say, "I'll sleep with you." He glances at me briefly, replying, "No need. I'm heading to the library room. You can sleep here." Without giving me a chance to protest, he gets up and starts walking towards the door. But then he stops.

He retrieves a strip of medicine from the drawer and hands it to me. "Take this. They'll worry if you catch a fever," he says in a cold, deep voice. Unknowingly, tears well up in my eyes. "Are you avoiding me? I know you're just trying to comfort me. I'm just a cute kid to you, not a desirable woman you'd want to date."