Wingman

Khalil

Chapter Sixteen

Pela runs over in a night-wrap burrito-ing her hair. Her perfect thick brows are knit in worry, lips puckered over hot coffee she pours for you. Blow blow blow, she waves her fingers above the cup as she sits on the coffee table before the couches. "Here," she says. The cup is now in your hands. "Go on...take all the time you need," she says.

You let the warmth hit your nostrils. Breathing in and out, back straighter while under the blanket Pela trusted on your shoulders at sun rise today. The apartment brought to life, yet the insides of your fatigue form stays close to dead. No amount of tossing and turning results in any sleep last night.

"Thanks."

Pela nods. You can see the eagerness from the ways her knees tap yours, body leaning over for a want to know more. More more more. Want to know more of an event you yourself cannot clearly process. All of it happened so fast last night...

"I'm sorry I interrupted you with Hoseok last night," you say.

Pela waves her hands. "Oh, that was his name?" she jokes, uninterested in her night being disturbed, "We just danced and drank, it was no big deal." You nod when she rubs your knee and shows you how unaffected she remains. "Besides, seeing you close to tears and shaking was enough for me to stop everything and leave the club. What kind of friend would I be if I hadn't?" That makes you smile.

Her eagerness is back when Pela's smile falls. With a loud sigh, you arch the cup to your lips, taste the tip of the liquid that creates a tunnel past the foam. With a lick, you start.

You tell Pela what happened last night.

In the parking lot and next to Jin's van, you found your feet to stay glued to the rocky ground. A cliché you were. Movements were frozen, and no words left lips that were swollen from Taehyung's kisses. Taehyung's kisses. With a hesitant tilt of your head, lashes batted when spotting the boy. His back was straighter than any nearby street-pole, eyes faced forward. His lips were red from the heat of his blood, mouth opening and closing. Chest heaved for air.

You wanted to say his name. You wanted to ask what just happened. If it meant anything—if it was stupid. Whether on impulse, the minute you opened your mouth, reality washed in a second time. Taehyung's Oki's best friend. Your ex-boyfriend's best friend. Sharing what the two of you did, the only thing louder than your heartbeat was Oki's stumbling feet.

The drunk was by the hood of the van. You held your breath. You forgot the kiss. In this moment, nothing else but being quiet mattered.

Swallowed hard, Taehyung found his gaze fuzzy when he tried to clear it the same he did his throat. Forced smile, he didn't look your way.

From one end of the van, Taehyung's thigh hit the bumper and he cursed when palms met his shoulders. With a smile, Oki held Taehyung up and said, "I can't be tripping, where's the girl?"

Taehyung chuckled when Oki chuckled. It was strained and forced when he asked, "Girl?"

"Yeah!" Oki laughed and pulled away.

"Oki, here, just—"

"Is she here?" Oki snapped his neck to one side of the van. You weren't at that side.

With a grin, he moved past Taehyung's arms around him. He peeked over to opposite side. The spot Taehyung forced you to stand at. Brows furrowed, Oki's smile fell. His back straightened, and he looked to a stiffed Taehyung.

With a soft voice that cracked, Taehyung whispered, "I...I can explain..." No, he couldn't. He didn't understand any of what happened. His eyes were still blurry and his head was on a non-stop ride.