Fatal Miscalculations •Jaeyong•

Chapter 7

The blinding rays of the early morning sun danced behind his eyelids, driving away the sweet oblivion of sleep. Jaehyun cracked an eye open and leered at the uncovered window in an apathetic torpor. Not only were there no curtains, the windows looked like they hadn't been cleaned in forever. The papers of drawing that were thumbnailed to the wall were a mess, if anything. Dirty and probably washed clothes were strewn all over the place. What is this dump, he thought as he started to push himself up. He groaned when something stung his back. And then the memories came rushing.

He was in Taeyong's apartment, which was poor travesty of a home. But the entire apartment smelled like Taeyong, so he was not complaining about that. There was something peculiar about Taeyong's scent. It was clear that he was not a purebred. But God, the scent was intoxicating all the same. It drove Jaehyun to the brink of his sanity.

He closed his eyes and dropped his face back on the pillow, nuzzling into it to inhale Taeyong's scent. God, he was ill, disturbed beyond his own comprehension. What on earth was he doing...

With a jolt, Jaehyun got off the bed and grimaced at the sharp sting in his back following the abrupt movement. Why was he feeling like this? Even in such a physical discomfort, the thought of Taeyong bothered him more. And to think that he had almost kissed him last night... He was definitely going mad.

It felt strange. Was it just attraction? If it were, why this particular Pantherinae? Why couldn't it be someone else? Why hadn't Jaehyun felt anything this complicated since the first time he had transformed? He did not like it one bit, whatever that he was feeling for Taeyong right now. Which begged the question, why was he so close to losing his wits when he saw Taeyong being grabbed by those filthy scums? And why did his heart ache when he thought about what would have happened to Taeyong if he hadn't been there to save him last night?

The questions kept nagging at his conscience. How was it even possible to feel angry and overjoyed at the same time? He had only known Taeyong for a couple of weeks. And they had only talked for a few minutes. He could count the number of sentences they had shared with his fingers. And yet, he was already longing to see Taeyong every night. He wanted to talk to him, he wanted to listen to Taeyong speak. He wanted to get to know the tarty Pantherinae. He knew he was frenzied, provoked, and even outraged. But at what, precisely? The fact that he resented Taeyong for being a prostitute or the thought that he could never be with someone like him?

Either way, it only made him want to lock Taeyong up in his own personal box and never let him go.

He scavenged around the piles of clothes to find something decent and not smelly to wear. Not that he'd mind wearing clothes that smelled like Taeyong, but it would be best if he didn't smell too much like a foreign Pantherinae when he went home.

He found a pair of sweatpants and pulled them on before turning around. His heart did terrifying things when he spotted Taeyong sound asleep on the sofa, all wrapped up in an oversized sweatshirt and a pair of baggy pyjama pants. The vexation dissipated for a moment as Jaehyun tilted his head to the side and watched Taeyong sleep for a while.

The sunlight formed patches of gold on Taeyong's dark hair and illuminated his clear skin. He looked a little pale, but that must have something to do with why he sounded like a frog with a cork stuck in its throat. Oh, right. He did say he was sick.

Jaehyun froze for a stretch, thinking about the almost kiss. Yes, he most definitely would have kissed Taeyong if the latter hadn't stopped him. Why did he stop him, by the way? Being ill could not really be the reason. Was it because he did not want Jaehyun? Was it because he found Jaehyun repulsive? Was it because he was expecting to get paid to get laid? All these questions...