Kissing the Demon (Seoksoo)

Seokmin

By the time the credits rolled on Captain Marvel, Joshua had lost the fight with his eyelids. He'd been fine during Captain America. Yes, we were watching in the correct order, which is to say chronologically, not in release order. But despite his love of Brie Larson's sassy character, his running commentary became punctuated with yawns as he sank lower on the sofa. When I'd looked over to get his opinion on how Nick Fury really lost his eye, I was totally unsurprised to see him out for the count.

What did surprise me was the punch of longing that hit me in the gut, making me wish for a split second that this wasn't a one-off. Sprawled back on my sofa, with his mouth slightly open and his face relaxed, Joshua looked more peaceful than I'd seen him before. Like being in my company allowed him to strip back a layer of himself and shed the stress he seemed to be carrying when he arrived at the cinema.

There I went, overthinking everything again. The guy had only fallen asleep during a movie. I shook myself and dragged my gaze away from Joshua's sleeping form. I wasn't looking for a boyfriend who would feel so comfortable being around me that he could drift off to sleep. I wasn't looking for someone to share my love of Marvel with, someone who would listen to me prattle on without bemusement or mocking on their face.

And even if I was, I had more odds of winning the lotto than Joshua wanting to be that man.

Clicking the TV off, I grabbed the empty bottles and Joshua's glass from the table and quietly put them in the kitchen. When I returned to the living room, I couldn't help but take one more look at the beautiful man who, for some bizarre reason, wanted to spend time with me.

You keep telling yourself you're not looking for it, a voice whispered in my head. But now it's here, right in front of you, and you're not exactly pushing it away, are you?

Clamping down on that irritating thought, I bit my lip as I debated what to do. I knew what I should do. I should wake him so he could spend the night in his own bed.

But I couldn't bring myself to do it.

I watched his chest rise and fall with his deep, steady breaths. One of his hands lay over his heart, and the other hung over the sofa's edge. His long eyelashes dusted his cheeks, making him look younger in sleep. A large part of me shouted for me to gather him into my arms and carry him to my bed where he'd be comfier...but the rest was insistent I wake him and tell him to leave.

Instead, I grabbed a thick fluffy blanket from the box built into the window seat and settled it over him. I couldn't resist brushing my hand over his forehead as I tucked the blanket around him. My fingers tingled, begging for more.

Pulling back, I checked the windows and doors were locked before making my way to the stairs.

I didn't look back at Joshua's sleeping form.

I didn't trust myself.

My alarm clock showed I'd slept way later than usual when I awoke the next morning, listening to the steady pitter-patter of rain on the window as I stretched in my bed. It took a few moments to remember Joshua was asleep on my sofa, but the second I did, I bolted up and flew down the stairs.

Intense disappointment washed over me as I spotted the empty sofa, the blanket folded neatly on the spot where I'd left him. Scowling, I stomped into the kitchen, my mood as black as the clouds lurking outside the windows. The sight of what waited on my counter had me coming to an abrupt halt.

Right in front of my kettle was a takeaway cup of coffee and a paper bag, both adorned with the logo of my favourite café. Perched in front of them was a sheet of paper that looked suspiciously like it had been torn out of one of my student's exercise books.