started: June 22
Irene Park, a stunningly beautiful girl, transfers to J high with her twin brother, Daniel. As they move, Daniel turns out to have a new body, forcing the twins to adjust to their new life with an unexpected new body. Irene ma...
I'm not sure if I should feel embarrassed that all Gun does is smile and kiss me. Part of me thinks he's using it to distract me, but at the same time, the way his lips press against mine feels like an answer all on its own. Gun's so hard to read, and while that definitely keeps me intrigued, it's also driving me a little crazy with overthinking.
He takes our bowls to the coffee table while I pour the tea he already prepared for us. The hot water swirls around the Honeybush tea bags in these gorgeous crystal glasses, and I try to keep my thoughts from spiraling too much. But there's this ache in my chest that I can't shake off. Then I remember how his eyes softened when he looked at me earlier, and the way he said I was "the most beautiful person he's ever met." It makes my chest warm up, and I feel kind of silly for doubting him—especially when he just cooked dinner for me. But still, the doubt lingers, nagging at the back of my mind. Maybe it's just my way of protecting myself, but it's not really working.
I just really hope that whatever we have between us isn't just about passion—that it's something more real, something deeper, which i feel on my end. I want compassion.
We sit down on the couch, side by side, to start a new show together. We've got this cozy, sandy-brown blanket draped over us, and our bodies naturally lean into each other. We start *The Glory* and get through the first two episodes. By the time we finish eating, I'm stuffed and feeling a bit bloated. I let out a small groan as Gun lies down and pulls me into his arms for a cuddle. He's on his right side, and I'm lying in front of him, with every inch of his warm, muscular body pressed against my back. His bicep becomes my pillow, and his other hand sneaks under my shirt, pulling me even closer to him.
The way he holds me sends butterflies through my stomach, and I just melt into his touch like snow melting under the sun. His rough, calloused hands draw gentle circles on my bare stomach, occasionally playing with the waistband of my pants during the more intense scenes. Every little move makes my heart skip a beat, and as much as I try to stay awake, my eyelids get heavier and heavier. Gun's like a human heater, wrapping around me like he's afraid I'll slip away in the middle of the night.
In that moment, all I can hope for is that what we have isn't just a spark, but something that can last.
"Gun, it's late. I really should get home," I murmur, my words coming out a bit slurred. My hand fumbles for my phone, and I squint at the screen, the light glaring in the dark room. 3 AM. The fact that Gun doesn't respond makes my stomach sink a little. His firm chest rises and falls in slow, deep breaths, and it's clear he's out for the night. All the buses have long finished their routes, and here I am, exhausted. But this doesn't feel like the usual tiredness; it feels like comfort.
