Arrange Devotion | SS

Chapter 9. Different shades

The sunlight filtered into the room, the morning breeze stirring the white curtains and brushing softly against the face of the man asleep on the bed.

For the first time, he hadn’t been plagued by nightmares or restless sleep. His face twitched into a faint frown as the sunlight kissed his cheeks, only to disappear as a shadow loomed over him.

Joshua squeezed his eyes shut before slowly blinking them open, a blurry figure coming into focus in front of him. His heart plummeted. Had someone broken into his house?

"Uh—"

"Relax, it's just me..." The deep, familiar voice reached his ears, and as Joshua blinked again, Seokmin’s whiskey-colored eyes sharpened into view, hovering inches above him.

"M-Mr. Lee..." Joshua stammered as he tried to sit up straight, his eyes darting to where Seokmin was holding his hand.

What the hell is happening? Why is Seokmin here, in his bedroom, holding his hand? The chill of unease slithered down Joshua’s spine, his mind racing with possibilities.

"What are you doing here?" He hated how defensive he sounded, quickly pulling his hand from Seokmin’s grip as he pushed himself up from the bed.

"I stayed the night," Seokmin says calmly, his voice a steady anchor in the morning haze. Joshua frowns, his confusion deepening.

"Why?"

"You seem to have forgotten the entire scene from last night," Seokmin replies, still impossibly calm, making Joshua wonder if this man ever truly gets angry.

"Mr. Hong, the door will be fixed—or do you want a new house?" Seokmin adds, and before Joshua can process the words, he rushes into the living room, where he stops dead in his tracks. His front door lies shattered on the floor, and outside, two black cars and six imposing bodyguards stand guard.

"What the—" Joshua whirls around, only to collide with Seokmin, who swiftly catches him, an arm wrapping around Joshua’s waist, pulling him upright in a reflexive motion. Joshua squeezes his eyes shut, his hands clutching Seokmin's chest.

"You were having a panic attack last night, from what I could tell," Seokmin explains, his voice low and unhurried.

"When you didn’t answer, I broke the door down, put you to sleep, and as I was leaving, you asked me to stay. So I did. And as for holding your hand..." He pauses, his gaze lingering on Joshua. "I liked how soft they felt."

Joshua’s eyes widened, staring up at him, mortified. Did he really have a panic attack in front of Seokmin? How utterly embarrassing.

Joshua's breath hitched as Seokmin's words sank in, his heart pounding in his chest. He wanted to deny it, to say it was all a mistake, but the memory of last night was hazy, shrouded in the fog of anxiety that had gripped him.

The realization that he had shown such vulnerability in front of Seokmin made his stomach twist with humiliation.

"Did I really...?" Joshua’s voice trembled, the question barely above a whisper. He felt exposed, like Seokmin had peeled away all the layers he kept so carefully guarded.

Seokmin’s grip on Joshua’s waist tightened slightly, his gaze softening as he looked down at him. "Yes, you did," he confirmed, his tone gentle yet unwavering. "But there’s no need to be embarrassed, Mr. Hong. Everyone has their moments."

Joshua's eyes darted to the broken door, then back to Seokmin. "You didn’t have to do all this," he muttered, trying to pull away, but Seokmin didn’t let go.

"And let you suffer alone?" Seokmin asked, his voice low and dangerous, but not towards Joshua—towards the mere idea of leaving him in such a state. "I don’t think so."