wrong boy ➳ hansol/vernon

• twenty five •

When I wake up, tears instantly well up inside my eyes. It's still morning, I assume, from the dim sunlight pouring in through the window.

Soonyoung's arm is heavy around my waist and his face is buried into the crook of my neck.

I hate myself for doing this.

Carefully, I lift Soonyoung's arm and slip out of bed, instantly wrapping the spare sheet around me. I grab my clothes from the floor and hurry into the bathroom, locking the door behind me.

My hands are trembling and my bottom lip quivers as I pull on my clothes. I feel sick. It isn't long before I hear Soonyoung walking around outside.

"Nari," his voice echoes as he knocks gently onto the door. "Are you OK?"

"I'm fine!" I call back shakily.

Everything is not fine. Once again, I've messed up. I've been unfaithful to Hansol, to myself.

I look into the mirror facing me, shocked at the sight. My hair is a mess, my eyes scream sadness, my shoulders are slumped. My sigh is staggered.

"Are you sure? You sound worried."

I open the door, a bright and fake smile suddenly on my face. I've grown accustomed to faking happiness recently. Soonyoung stares at me with a lazy grin, a familiar sense of adoration in his eyes.

"Morning." He whispers and instinctively moves towards me.

I lean backwards slightly so his lips meet my cheek, instead. He doesn't seem to noice as he places his hands onto my waist. If fees so familiar but simultaneously so wrong.

"I really enjoyed last night," he murmurs against my cheek. "I missed that."

My throat narrows. I feel so incredibly guilty. I decide to nod my head slightly, hoping that response will suffice.

"Hey, are you sure you're OK? You seem conflicted."

He knows me too well.

"I'm fine, I promise."

Soonyoung cooks us both breakfast like usual. We sit at the table, mostly in silence. He tries his hardest to make conversation but my one worded answers cause difficulty. I'm not trying to make him uncomfortable, that's the last thing I want. I just hate myself at the minute.

Later on that day, I call Hansol when Soonyoung makes a trip to the convenience store. It rings a few times before he picks up.

"Hey, what's up?" His voice rings through the speaker. Suddenly my throat narrows yet again and I blink away the tears. "Nari, you there?"

"Yeah," I force myself to speak. "I'm here, sorry. Can you come over tomorrow?"

"Isn't Soonyoung at work tomorrow?" Hansol asks. Recently it's been just the three of us hanging out together.

"He is. I want to talk to you alone about something."