Horizon | C.JH , K.YS | rewrite

{4}

Yeosang's brows knit together as a throbbing ache pounded in his head. With eyes shut tight, he fumbled beneath the soft covers, his fingers finding solace in the comforting pressure against his temples. It was a sensation akin to a hangover, though he hadn't indulged in alcohol.

The warmth enveloping him was unfamiliar yet soothing, like a gentle embrace from a long-lost friend. He couldn't recall when Wooyoung had acquired such luxurious bedding, but in his groggy state, he found himself grateful for the unexpected comfort.

The silence that enveloped him was a stark departure from the chaos of his previous life with Minwoo. Here, in this tranquil sanctuary, he could finally exhale, the weight of months of tension easing from his weary shoulders.

With a languid blink, Yeosang's eyes fluttered open, greeted by the gentle rays of morning light filtering through the window. Yet, as his gaze swept the unfamiliar surroundings, a drowsy realisation began to dawn upon him. This wasn't Wooyoung's room, and the air carried a fragrance far sweeter than he was accustomed to.

Yeosang shifted onto his back, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and letting out a wide yawn that seemed to stretch his entire being.

"Oh, you're awake," came the familiar voice, pulling him from the haze of drowsiness. Instantly, Yeosang jolted upright, his heart pounding against his ribcage as if it were trying to break free from its confines.

Reality crashed over him like a wave, dispelling the remnants of sleep as he surveyed his surroundings. This wasn't Wooyoung's room; the decor, the ambiance, everything was different.

Before him stood Jongho, the enigmatic man from the night before, his silhouette framed against the panoramic view of nature outside the expansive window.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," Jongho apologised, uncrossing his arms and taking a step closer, his demeanour softened.

Yeosang's gaze flickered between Jongho and his own attire, the monochrome ensemble a stark contrast to the serene landscape beyond the glass.

He admired the way Jongho's long, dark locks cascaded over his eyes, casting shadows that concealed the depths within. It lent him an air of mystery, a quality that both intrigued and unsettled Yeosang.

Lost in a haze of confusion, Yeosang couldn't fathom how much time had passed since he last saw the light of day. The transition from night to day had been seamless, leaving him disoriented and unsure of his surroundings.

"I hope you remember my name at least," Jongho quipped, his tone light yet devoid of warmth. Despite the jest, there was an underlying tension in the air, palpable in the silence that followed.

Yeosang offered a tentative nod in response, his nerves pricking at the sound of Jongho's approaching footsteps. As Jongho drew closer, standing at the foot of the bed, Yeosang felt an uncomfortable shift in the atmosphere, his unease mounting under the weight of Jongho's scrutinising gaze.

"I never got your name," Jongho remarked, his voice breaking the silence that hung heavy in the room.

Yeosang blinked, feeling the weight of uncertainty settle upon him as he tugged at the sleeves of the unfamiliar hoodie, seeking solace in its fabric.

The decision to reveal his name felt like a precarious one. After all, he couldn't shake the unsettling feeling that Jongho's presence here was far from benign.

"I'm... Minhee," Yeosang offered tentatively, the lie slipping from his lips before he could second-guess himself. Safety seemed like a distant dream in Jongho's presence, and a false name was the only shield he could muster.