Beautiful Images ::VHope::

Slow

When I wake up, HoSeok is sitting on the couch. He stares blankly ahead of himself. I stand in the bedroom doorway, watching how he is simply existing. He looks terrible; he's so pale, and his cheeks are sunken. I can still see the bruising around his nose, and I wonder who. I can't honestly believe that NamJoon would do this; they love each other, too much. NamJoon is straight anyway, so I remove him from my list. I try to remember any other names he's mentioned, but I can't.

He sniffles, wiping his cheeks quickly. Who would want to hurt him? I picture my own hands around his throat. I did. I want to wrap him up and tell him how important he is, and how he deserves every beautiful thing in life. I want him to feel better so that he doesn't become a loser like me. He suddenly looks up, his head turning towards me. All emotions shut down immediately. He looks at me with a blank face.

"Hi." He says, sitting straighter on the couch. I decide that if given the choice, I'd kill whoever hurt him enough to change his entire personality. I force a smile.

"H-Hey." I reply. He purses his lips, looking back at the wall.

"I'm sorry that I told you." He stands, wiping his hands on his pants nervously. "It's not your problem; it's mine."

"We-we are close. It-it can be my pr-pr-problem, too-too." I step closer to him. He shakes his head, a smile finding his face. It's the type of smile people force to show how strong they are. The smile of people who feel alone. "Do-do you want bre-bre-break-f-f..." I stop, my face heating with embarrassment. He simply stares at me for a moment before nodding his head. I walk into the kitchen, glancing up at HoSeok over the counter.

"I-I have cereal, and-and I have eggs, so maybe pan-pancakes." I look around in the cupboards. "I have-have yo-yogurt, too."

"I'm okay with just cereal." HoSeok says, stepping up to the opposite side of the counter. I motion for him to look in my cupboard. I try to make eating as easy as possible for myself. It's hard for me to work my hands anymore. Therefore, I stock up on items that take minimal effort: cereal. I open the cupboard, revealing about ten boxes of cereal.

"Wow. That's a lot of cereal." He says. "Is the cocoa rice opened?"

"Here-here." I hand it to him. I move around my kitchen, grabbing two bowls and two spoons. We eat together in almost complete silence. I decide to break it. "I-I work at e-eleven until three."

"Okay." He shrugs, taking another bite of cereal. I sigh; it seems damn near impossible to get him to loosen up now.

"You-you can stay here if-if you want." I offer. "You can sh-shower. The- the t-t-towels are in the closet, but-but the water is op-opposite. If-if you want hot-hot turn it to the-to the- to the cold."

"Okay." He repeats. He finishes his bowl of cereal. I watch as he rinses it off in the sink. He points to the dishwasher. "Clean or dirty?"

"Dirty."

We sit in the living room, neither one of us speaking. HoSeok stares at the TV, but I get the feeling he isn't actually watching the show. I want so badly to ask him who did it. I want to ask him how. I dropped him off at his dorm, and I watched him go inside. How did it happen? But I don't ask. I'll let him simmer in his anger and pain. Sometimes, it's the only way to let a person heal.

Eventually, the clock reads 10:30, and I'm forced out of the chair. I put on my uniform, grabbing my name badge. I stand in the kitchen a moment, trying to fix a popped button on my shirt. My fingers fumble around it, and I groan. Softer fingers slide across my chest and move my hands away. I watch as they button my shirt for me. I lift my head. HoSeok stands emotionless.

"Thank-thank you." I say. He nods. "I-I will be-be back."

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I hold the restock cart steady with one hand as I look up and down the aisle. Finding the item, I quickly scan and restock the boxes. I check the dates on the gum, and tidy up the toys on the bottom shelf.

"Excuse me, sir. Are you opened?" I mentally roll my eyes at the customer before turning around. I begin to tell him no, but realize it's NamJoon. He smiles at me, a gallon of milk dangling from his left hand. "Have you seen HoSeok?"

"Yeah-yeah, he-he's at my hou-house." I answer.

"Oh." He sounds hurt. "Okay, well tell him I'm going to a study group tonight to catch up on what I missed."

"Will do-do."

He waves before walking to the next open lane. I continue restocking. A few moments pass when I feel my arms beginning to get heavy. I shake my head. My whole body seems weighted down and difficult. My mind is cloudy. My legs wobble for a moment. Oh no.

I drop the box of candy in my hands, and start walking to the employee break room. The amount of effort it takes to walk is astounding. I'm only half way there, but I can feel the control of my body beginning to slip. It starts in my right leg, a painful spasm that jolts through my body. I fall to the ground; the seizure taking full control as I hit roughly on the ground.

A coworker puts her hand under my head to stop my from hurting myself. Everyone does the appropriate thing. It's all very well trained into most of the cashiers. It's not the first time I've had one at work, and just another reason I am a cashier and not anywhere else. Minutes that feel like hours pass and finally the twitching in my arms has stopped.

"TaeHyung, are you okay?" The girl asks. I blink at her. "Someone get me some water!" I'm taken by surprise how quickly a bottle of water is held to my lips. The intake of the liquid sends a chill through me and the clouds in my mind disappear. After signing a few papers, I convince my manager I can walk myself home. It's only 12:34 as I unlock my apartment.

When I open the door, loud music greets my ears. I assume it's Korean, and enter the house. In the living room, HoSeok dances. He wears only a pair of my sweatpants. His hair is still wet and I can see droplets of water falling down his back. I notice dark bruises there, too. For a moment, I watch him. His movements fluid and effortless. I wonder if he took dance lessons. He spins around, letting out a little yelp when he sees me.

"You're home?" He asks. I nod. "Why?"

"Sei-Seizure." I set my things down, closing the door. He jumps up on the kitchen counter, crossing his ankles. I notice all the hickeys covering his neck and shoulders. We quietly discuss if I am okay or not before another silence falls over us.

"Do you like me?" He asks. I nod. "Okay, but you didn't kiss me."

"I-I..."

"You kissed my cheek. What if I told you that wasn't good enough? I'm a well trained whore, so I need you to kiss me. I need to know if you actually like me or not. I need to know if I am what everyone thinks I am. You need to kiss me."

"What?"

"Please, just kiss me. I need to know what I am." His eyes fill with crystal tears.

"You-you want me to k-k-kiss you so you know if you're a- you're a slut or-or not?" I tilt my head. He nods quickly. "You-you're not one."

"Not good enough." He whispers.

"You-you want this to be our first-first-first k-kiss?"

"I need this to be our first kiss." He bites his lip. I can read every hurt on his heart at this moment. I simply nod, placing a hand under his chin. I lean in and press my lips lightly to his.

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Good place to stop. See ya in the next chapter!