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The faint moonlight pours through the uncurtained deluxe window. It touches Jisung's face and it causes him to slowly open his eyes.
It's still raining, though the moon is so powerful tonight that it grazes through the thick clouds.
It visibly started getting darker not long ago, meaning that it's not very late.
He slept less than he usually does.
"Psst."
"Mm?" Jisung hums, trying to decide whether he should fall back asleep or wake up, the latter option being quite impossible in the sleepy state he's in.
"You awake?"
The room brightens up, shadows of the tall tree's branches we used to climb up dancing on the walls.
"Mhmmm."
As much as I hate the closeness, I don't move away. He moved in his sleep, like he usually does. Our bodies are still apart, but now I can hear his soft breathing clearly.
He said he's a light sleeper. What a filthy liar he is.
The youngers's eyes open, just enough to make out my facial features. He stares at me.
"Hi." I turn my head and face him, staring deep into his pretty eyes that seem to have found their sparkle again.
His mouth curls into a small, tired smile. "hey."
"Slept well?"
"With you by my side, always."
"Don't get cheesy now." an involuntary chuckle breaks through my raspy voice.
"Can't help it around you, Minho~"
"Disgusting."
"Homophobe."
I throw daggers through him with my stare and he takes the sign, shutting his mouth.
His hand is resting on my chest, which I just now realize. Doongie isn't lying on it anymore. He's nowhere to be seen.
When Jisung notices my eyes fixated on his hand, he retracts it. I sigh at the loss of touch, not having minded it in the first place at all.
Maybe just a little.
Why am I so scared of touch, I wonder. Is it a trauma response? perhaps, is it because of the number of times my father has slapped me?
A small, angelic sounding voice interrupts my short overthinking session. "you're the closest I've ever been with someone."
"Am I?" my eyes turn to face his directly. "what about your sister?"
