Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Jaemin was handsome. Jaemin was so bloody handsome that it drove her insane. But he was also Mark's best friend and as much as she wanted him, he was her brother's best friend.
Jaemin was also standing right in front of her, leaning against the door frame, his right hand holding the top for support and his left holding his jacket. His black shirt was unbuttoned till his torso, his pants were crinkled. His hair was messy and his sighs were heady. He was drunk. She could smell it.
'Mark isn't home,' she said, hoping he wouldn't go away.
He looked at her from top to bottom, his eyes stopping at her skirt before looking up. 'I know,' he groaned. 'Can I come in?'
'Why?' She blocked his way. It was too risky. Behind her, on the table was the bottle of wine she had downed a few minutes ago and the flush that was creeping its way up to her face was enough to tell her that he shouldn't be here, not when she is tipsy and alone.
He scoffed, tilting his head to the side. 'Are you sure you don't want me to come in?' he mocked, stepping over the threshold.
She had met Jaemin three years ago when Mark had brought his friends home. She knew all of them except him. He was new. He was different. He did not pat her head like she was a kid, nor did he ever treat her like one of the boys. But different isn't necessarily good and in this case, it was almost torturous.
Those accidental rub of the shoulders, those unintentional graze of their hands, the stolen glances and the lingering gazes. It was nothing, she told herself, repeating the words over and over in her mind every time Jaemin would visit, till she could think of nothing but him.
'I can go back, if you'd like.' His voice came out hoarse.
Without a thought, she took a step back, allowing him inside, and the moment he closed the door behind him without her protests, he smirked, spotting the empty wine bottle on the table.
'Having a party... alone?'
'Is there something you want?' she asked, keeping the tremble out of her voice as best she could.
'Hm...' He met her eyes.
'What?'
But he chose not to reply.
Stumbling, he made his way to the table and sat himself down, letting his head go. 'Water...' he groaned, throwing his jacket on the side and unbuttoning the remaining buttons on his shirt.
This is bad. This is bad, she repeated in her head, keeping her eyes away from his chest. Her hands were shivering and her face had grown hot. She could feel the heat rising inside her and was sure that she wasn't hiding it well.
'Here.' She offered him the glass of water and watched as he gulped it down, slowly, the droplets dribbling down his bobbing throat to his chest, drenching his shirt where it still made contact with his skin.
