The Marriage Assignment [4]

Chapter 25, "You used to like me?"

[ YOONGI'S P.O.V. ]

Just when I thought these days couldn't get better, they did.

The day after opening the gifts, it was a chilled out one. I went swimming and could see her eyes trying not to look. I didn't blame her, I had the same stare when she joined me in the pool with more skin than clothing. We didn't touch each other. We just talked and enjoyed the sun tanning our skin, while in cleaned waves.

The day after that, before dinner, we walked to a park by a hospital's parking lot. Able to see each other under the moonlight, with the help of the stars prominent and alive. I kissed her when she laughed on the swing-set. I remember smiling so shy after I did. After the kiss, she whispered, "Push me," with a giggle, and I held her hips and arched back. Watching the swing move with her on it, I could see her hair starting to frizz from the air that ate it.

The day after that, after dinner, we played board games, threatened each other with dares and truths. It was fun, yelling at each other and getting defensive in ways that wasn't life-ending. To soothe atmospheres, we laughed at more K-drama compilations.

The day after that, I remember feeling bubbly at my gut. I wanted to kiss her more, hug her more, hold her while she slept. But I didn't. I didn't touch her. Instead, wrote what I was feeling into words. Without even knowing, she inspired me day after day.

The day after that, she asked me, "Be honest, is there something wrong with my nose?" That amused me, and I shook my head, kissed her face in attempts to make her heat up. When she did, I smirked and said, "Nothing's wrong with it," with the planting of my lips to the bridge of her nose.

The day after that, we're neared our week ending. I made dinner this night, while she sat on the counter next to me. Sheets of paper were in one hand, while a pen was in the other. "I really like this part," she said before mumbling the rest under her breath. I stirred the dish, adding my seasoning, "How's the end? I was struggling." Her eyes scanned. She sang, and my stomach fluttered when she smiled and nodded. "You're a brilliant man." I smirked, "Thanks to you." She didn't comprehend what I meant by that; reading the rest of the new rap I asked for her to judge.

The day after that, is now. Now, at night, after more long hours spent making dinner for ourselves, we sit, bloated, pretty, and full. Your hair is at my neck, tickling me. I don't care to move you as I snuggle closer, arm around your head—balanced with the couch we share heat on.

"I don't want to leave," you say this with a sigh, your fingers moving over my hand that sits on your naked lap.

You wear a maroon summer-dress with a bra I don't seem to see. I wear a white silk dress shirt with buttons loosened at the top. It's as if we both know of tonight to be special.

The lights are dimmed, the smell of spaghetti and tomato sauce float about. There's a small crack from the back door, allowing air to drift in-and-out. Even with the low-levels of air, there's sweat that drips down into the midst of your chest and upper-lip, while the sides of my neck drip and stains the silk on my body. Even in the heat, holding each other still—the television at a lowered volume so I can easily hear the settles of your breath. For a summer's night, it's unbearably hot.

My palm is clammy and sticking to your thigh when I rub, assuring. "I don't want to either, this week's been amazing."

You groan, the back of you neck hitting my arm behind you. Looking up at me from my shoulder, I tilt my head, so I can stare into your eyes while you say, "I'll have to start editing my draft when I get back."

"How fun." I purse my lips when you mock my voice, "How fun."

With a laugh, I move my ribs out of the way. I hold you with a tighter hug before placing my arm back over the couch's start. "If it helps," I try, "I've got to start cutting into songs...start the producing process and have the guys come in to do their parts."