Stalked

63: Fury

"Sangwoo?" You knocked at the door, a little bit out of breath from the bike ride over. It was bright and early: six am. You had to make sure everything was okay between you and your darling Sangwoo. And you knew the best way to do that was going to be to confront him head-on and ask him exactly what was upsetting him. "Sangwoo! It's me!"

The door opened slowly with a sleepy, dishelved Sangwoo in his boxers.

"Go the fuck away. It's too early to deal with your shit." He growled.

"No, no. We should talk!" You cheered. "I brought some stuff over for you anyway, and I missed you, and I wanted to spend the day together."

Sangwoo narrowed his eyes at you. He didn't really want to deal with you at the moment, but he knew what he had to do. Or at least he knew what he wanted to do.

"Wait here a second." He mumbled, closing the door on you briefly, unlocking the door fully. "Alright. Get in."

"Are you angry with me?" You looked at him, surprised.

Suddenly, you were pushed up against the door, with a very sharp object pushed to your throat. You felt a strange, warm liquid drip down your neck as you frowned slightly.

"I am so angry that I cannot believe that your blood isn't splattered against my door right now." He growled, with eyes still blurry from sleep.

"Because I woke you up too early?" You asked quietly, shirking from his harshness.

"That blathering idiot can come to your house and I can't? I'd say you're a fucking whore if I didn't know how prudish you are. Instead, you're just so God-damned annoying. You couldn't keep your fucking mouth shut about our engagement. You couldn't just stay so shy." He hovered over you aggressively, one arm pressing over your head, the other keeping the knife steady. "I'm officially tired of you. And you know what that means, you dumb--"

"I brought you a gift." You interrupted him, remaining calm.

"Shut the fuck up. I said, I'm tired of you and--"

"You should open your gift. I brought it especially for you." You interrupted him again.

"SHUT UP!" He screamed at you.

"I love you so much, Sangwoo. I brought you such a nice present." You whispered.

"You're not even fucking scared. Where the fuck is your stutter you shy little bitch?" He growled at you.

"I really want you to open your present." You looked at him with big eyes.

"Well, Christ. And don't fucking say anything about my fucking blasphemy. Fine." He lowered his hand into your bag and his eyes opened wide.

"You didn't." He huffed.

"I did." You shrugged, pushing the knife accidentally further into your neck. "Ouch."

"Shy, I'm going to do it. I'm going to fucking murder you." He rolled his eyes.

"No..." You looked down and pouted.

"Yes."

"Aren't you going to look at my present?"

"Mmm." He growled. "Fine."

He reached back in your bag and grabbed the object, yanking it out.

"Augh, you're so fucking sick, Shy." He groaned, throwing the disembodied head across the room. "You're fucking lucky. Fucking. Lucky."

"Why?" You asked, wondering why he hadn't moved away from you yet.

"Because I want to fuck you against the door, but I won't touch you. But you better get your ass upstairs with me."

"Why?" You laughed a little bit, inching away from the knife again.

"I want to hear every gory detail."