Origami Nuances

Friend

Jihyun looked for Zen as soon as he entered the shop, craning his head to spot him. As he didn't catch sight of him, he sat down at a nearby table and answered a call he was getting. "Hello, Jumin? Yeah, I'll come by later, at night. Yeah, okay, bye." While he was consumed in the conversation, he failed to realise someone standing by him, the sound of pen hitting paper apparent.

"Jihyun." Zen aknowledged him with a wide smile, as did Jihyun once he realised he was there. "Hey. Should I wait for you until your shift ends?" He asked, after placing his order. With a chuckle, Zen responded as he walked away.

"You two friends are too alike."
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After their shift ended, Jihyun and Zen made their way to a nearby stand-up stall, and ordered a few drinks. "This doesn't seem to be your kind of place." Zen noted, as he sipped on his cold can of beer. Jihyun smiled, cradling a can of beer as well. "True. I'm more of a wine person." He answered. "I bet Jumin prefers wine too. He just, has a very annoying "rich dude" vibe." Zen said, his expression that of an irritated one. Jihyun remained silent, looking at him continuously.

"What?" Zen said after a few minutes had passed, slightly uncomfortable at Jihyun's staring. He placed his chin onto his palm, smiling as he surveyed Zen's panicked state. "I noticed you talk about Jumin alot." Zen looked down wistfully at the table as he poked around at the snacks they ordered. "Not really. You're thinking too much." He answered, knowing that he was lying.

After talking for awhile, time seemed to drag on as they got drunk. Eventually, they were laughing loudly while discussing a few topics. Zen felt lighthearted when he was with Jihyun. He thoroughly enjoyed his company.

Neither of them noticed the inconspicuous black sedan that pulled up along the curb. And neither of them noticed the angry footsteps of a certain man.

Jumin surveyed the two enjoying themsleves with a bitter taste in his mouth as he stepped up next to them. He had to rap on the table a few times to get their attention. Noticing the cans of beer strewn across the table, he concluded that both of them were way too drunk right now. His eyes narrowed down on Jihyun's hand that was still planted on Zen's shoulder as his frustration grew rapidly.

Taking Jihyun's hand in his, he pulled him up, startling both of them. "Hey! What's the big de- Jumin?" Zen stared at him with incredulous eyes, like he couldn't begin to fathom why he would be here. Those eyes... Jumin saw himself getting lost in them. The seemingly endless glassy pools of a mellow red felt like an enticing drug to him. His face was flushed and he looked more ethereal than ever, in the dim light of the night. Jumin almost reached out to touch him, just to make sure he was actually real. But he kept his mask on and stared at him coldly instead.

Like he always had done before.

"What were you thinking, hanging out with this guy until this hour? I was worried," he said to Jihyun. "I'm sor- how did you get here?" He asked, half asleep. "Since you weren't picking up the phone, I tracked your location. I thought you'd been hurt." Jihyun had a look of remorse on his face, apologetic.

Zen's eyebrows furrowed as he looked at them, his eyes zeroing in on Jumin's hand clasped on Jihyun's arm. In a drunken haze, he threw a can in Jumin's general direction. "This guy? Don't talk about -hic- me like I'm a -hic- piece of trash!" He yelled, swaying on his feet. Zen backed down slightly at Jumin's cold stare, looking down at his feet.

It all happened in a flash.

Jumin had left Jihyun stumbling as he released his hold, and had stepped forward to Zen, their noses a hair's width away. He used his hand to tilt Zen's head upward, and placed a leg in between his.

Zen's breathing halted, and he felt like he'd been doused with cold water. His heart was palpitating wildly at the proximity, and Jumin's slight minty scent filled his senses. He remained silent as a captive to his icy gaze as he stood, frozen.

"Don't speak back to me." He said in his low, velvety voice. And with that, both Jumin and the flood of emotion that came with him dissipated into the darkness of the night.

Zen slinked back into his seat, burrowing his head in the crook of elbow as his blush painted his face a bright crimson. His heart was still running wild, leaving him breathless and with his senses fully alert and tingling. Only one thought ran through his mind at that moment.

What was Han Jumin to him?