The Kiss

Chapter 12

Jab, jab, cross. Jab, jab, cross. Cross. Cross. Cross.

Sweat trickled into Taehyung 's eyes, burning him, and he swiped a forearm over his face before slamming a fist into the punching bag again. Whenever thoughts crept back into his head, he hit harder. Too many fucking thoughts, too many fucking feelings.

Jab, dodge, hook. Jab, cross.

His arms burned, and he welcomed the pain, welcomed the way it seared everything out of his brain. There was nothing but the hard resistance of the sand in the bag and the jolting impact that shocked up his arm and down his leg.

Jab, jab, jab, cross, cross, cross. Harder. Could he punch the bag straight off its chains? Maybe. Cross, cross, cross, cross—

Loud knocks distracted him mid punch, and he glared at the front door. His annoyance quickly morphed into worry. Shit, was it the landlord?

Throwing a towel around his neck, he went to open the door.

"'Sup, cuz." Taeyang brushed past him, set a six-pack of beer bottles on the coffee table, and tossed his motorcycle jacket on the couch. Without pausing to look at Taehyung, he strode into the kitchen and began digging through the fridge. "Got anything to eat?"

"You're the one who works at a restaurant," Taehyung said on his way back to his punching bag.

It still swung side to side from the pummelling he'd given it, and he steadied it before he drove a fist into the faded leather. As he got back into beating the shit out of the bag, he heard a series of beeps followed by the whirring of the microwave.

"I'm eating your leftovers," Taeyang called out.

Taehyung ignored him and continued punching.

The microwave beeped, and shortly afterward, Taeyang carried a steaming bowl to the couch, sat, and proceeded to eat Taehyung's dinner. Very noisily.

When Taehyung couldn't take the slurping sounds any longer, he paused in his punching and said, "Most people eat at the kitchen table."

Taeyang shrugged. "I like the couch better." He shoved a forkful of noodles into his mouth and slurp-chewed, arching his eyebrows at Taehyung in a what gives? way.

Taehyung gritted his teeth and tried to find his rhythm again.

"You been hitting the weights hard lately? Your arms are bigger. They're like grapefruits, man."

Steadying the bag, Taehyung asked, "Why are you here?"

"You gonna apologize to me or what? Because you're the shittiest cousin ever, Taehyung. You really are."

He shut his eyes, exhaling. "I'm sorry."

"Yeah, I'm gonna have to ask you to try that again."

He pushed away from the bag and threw himself onto the couch next to his cousin. "I'm really sorry. It's just complicated right now, and I—" He rested his elbows on his knees and covered his face with his wrapped hands. "I'm sorry."

"I don't get why you lied about not having a girlfriend. 'No one special' my ass. You scared she won't like the family or what?" Taeyang asked with a sneer.

Taehyung resisted the urge to tear his hair out. "I don't want to talk about this."

"The fuck, Taehyung." Taeyang set his bowl on the coffee table next to the beer and grabbed his jacket. "I'll leave, then." He stalked to the door and grabbed the knob.

"Today was crappy, okay?" He began yanking the boxing wraps from his fists. "All my days are crap days, but today was worse. I thought my mom was dead. When I got there, she was stooped over in her chair, and it didn't look like she was breathing. I lost my shit."