Lost In Translation ((Super Junior- Kyuhyun Fanfic)) {completed} [editing]

• 8 • Irresistable

(edited)

Friday, December 20, 2013

I breathed in deeply, exhaling with all my concentration. I put my head in my hands, trying to stay level-headed and calm. Ever since I’d realized I had feelings for Audrey, everything became harder. I wanted to be around her all the time, everything she did drove me crazy, and the questions we got about American girls became difficult to answer. Especially right now. The questions had gotten intense and frustratingly relentless. I had never been so grateful for a commercial break.

I felt someone’s hands on my shoulders, and I knew it was Audrey. I sat back up and leaned deep into the chair, hoping she would remove them. She understood what was wrong and I was grateful for it, but right now, the last thing I needed was her touching me.

“It’s okay. It’s not the interviewer’s fault. You know they’re given questions to ask. They are just trying to ruffle your feathers and create some press or whatever. It’s different here in America. This is totally normal.”

She was right and I knew it. I wasn’t ignorant. What she didn’t know was that it wasn’t their fault, or mine. It was hers! If she wasn’t so damn gorgeous and amazing, I wouldn’t like her, and these questions wouldn’t be so damn frustrating!

I whined in aggravation. I started massaging my neck, hoping that would make me feel better. I knew all of this, but that doesn’t mean it irritated me any less. She stopped my hand, replacing it with her own, and started to massage my neck.

“Let me, I know how,” she said. My hands stopped moving and she pushed them away. Before I could manage to protest, she’d begun. If I hadn’t consciously kept my lid on tightly, I would have moaned. She knew exactly what she was doing, because even masseuses in Korea didn’t even do this good of a job.  

“Oh my God! You’re really good at this. Did you take lessons or something?” I wanted to say more, but I was afraid I would give too much away. Her hands felt amazing, and I didn’t want to give any hints of my feelings.

“No, I’ve always been good at massaging. When I was little, I would give my mom foot massages and she always said I should have been a masseuse. She jokes that I would have been world famous. You have a lot of knots. I’d be happy to work some of them out for you later. I’m very good, I promise.” She peered around to my face and smiled at me. How could I refuse?

“I’d be grateful. Your house later then?” She nodded, but suddenly focused on my face. Her hands stopped and she moved to stand in front of me. She got closer to my face and I suddenly felt extremely self-conscious.

“What?” My nerves skyrocketed.

“You have a little eyeliner smudge under your eye. It must be from touching your face or something. How long have you been and idol,” she said sarcastically.

“Don’t want any of my makeup or anything on your face, now do we,” she said, wiping her hand off on her skirt.

She cupped my face with one hand and got even closer to me, rubbing her thumb gently under my left eye. She was concentrated on the eyeliner, not realizing how close she was. Her lips were slightly parted in concentration and could feel her hot breath on my face. She really doesn’t have any idea how much she actually affects me, and I didn’t either until now. She stopped and moved back, examining her work. I let out the breath I had been holding and tried to stop myself from feeling like I was going to die. It wasn’t working.

“All gone,” she said. She looked at her thumb, which was now black from the eyeliner. She moved to wipe it on her skirt again but I grabbed her hand, stopping her.