1.4 | If The Shoe Fits ✓

08 | the one with all that babble

  

0 8

the one with all that babble

BY THE TIME Nala headed down to the lobby, she was woozy from all the painkillers. Her earlier migraine had dulled to a steady throb, and her brain felt like it was made of cotton candy or some equally fluffy nonsense.

She trudged out of the lift, blinking blearily at her surroundings until she found him. A dreamy smile spread across her face as she saw him leaning against the nearby wall. His familiar satchel was gone, and so was his usual coat. Instead, he carried a backpack and wore a thick navy jacket. Black-rimmed glasses sat on the bridge of his nose, and her fingers itched to push his dark locks out of his eyes.

Seung Jae glanced up from his phone and noticed her immediately. He pushed himself off the wall and headed to her. "Hey, Nala—" he stopped and frowned. "You don't look well."

"I feel a bit funny," she admitted honestly. Was it her imagination, or did her tongue feel rather thick? "I've a headache, and I ate a couple of pills earlier. You know, to stop the buzzing. And I had a bunch of work to do all day. The big boss has the most awful assishh...assissi...assassi—"

In spite of the worried look on his face, she noticed his lips twitch. "Assistant?"

"That's it!" She snapped her fingers. "Wow, that's a really hard word! Assisisistant. No wonder she does such a shite job—I can barely even spell that! Can you spell it?"

"A-s-s—"

"You have a lovely one, did'ja know that?"

He blinked. "A lovely what?"

"Arse, of course!" she declared, beaming up at him. "Have you seen yours? It's positively gorgeous."

His cheeks reddened, even as he let out a quiet laugh. "Thank you," he said, and wrapped a hand around her arm. "But we should really get you home if you're starting to babble on about arses."

"I don't babble on about any arses—just yours! It is rather ironic, don't you think, how you have a lovely arse and yet never behave like one. You're sweet and kind and very gentlemanly without being overly chivalrous about it. See—you open the car door for me now, but you didn't fight me when I insisted on paying for dessert last night. That's one of the reasons why I fancy the pants off you. Ooh, pants! You wear the most lovely pants too. I mean, it's not those super form-fitting ones some blokes have that make you wonder how they're still fertile after wearing those. You actually have nice, breathable pants. Like those jeans you wear—they're so worn and faded, with that little hole in the pocket just on the tushie—"

"...oh, shite. There's a hole?"

"Yes, I noticed it once when you sat on my desk. Of course, I try really, really hard not to be obvious about it 'cause I don't want you to mistake me for a pervert or anything. I'm really not. I'm just a woman who appreciates a man for his finer qualities..."

Somewhere in the back of her mind, Nala was aware that she was still babbling happily all through the ride back. It felt like a dream. A surreal, liberating dream where she could tell Seung Jae exactly how she felt about him. Consequences be damned. Before long, they were pulling up to her flat. She almost stumbled out of his car, only for him to catch her around the waist.

"...wow, nearly fell flat on my face there!" She planted her hands on his chest to steady herself, then smiled brilliantly up at him. "You have a nice chest too, by the way. So broad and firm and warm, without being overly muscular. Sometimes, I dream of licking chocolate syrup off it."

He sputtered; his cheeks going a lovely shade of crimson. "You do?"

"Absolutely," she said with conviction, as he led her to her flat. She handed him her keys without hesitation, and hung onto his arm as he undid the lock. "I mean, I don't try to dream of you on purpose. You just unexpectedly feature in my dreams—and even then, not as often as I'd like. Most of the time, it's just a normal day at work, and I dream that you and I are having a pleasant conversation. Other times, we're elsewhere, like a cabin in the woods surrounded by pine that smells just like you."

She sat down on her sofa and gazed up at him, still with that dreamy smile on her face. Where before everything else had seemed blurry, her room was now coming into focus. So was he. It felt strange, and yet so fitting, for him to be in her living room. He looked utterly at home here.

"Once in a blue moon, I dream of you," she added, "Just you and I. Nothing else seems to matter. I dream of your lips on mine, and your tongue on my skin, and my mouth on you. It's all very lovely and wonderful and right, because I've never dreamt of anyone else like that before. Then I wake and feel utterly cold and sad and lonely, because it's all just a dream. It's fiction. It's not real."

Silence spanned for several seconds.

Nala's shoulders fell in disappointment. Oh, now she knew what this all was. No wonder the room had seemed fuzzy and so had he. "This is all a dream too, isn't it?" she mumbled. "That's why you're not saying anything, and everything's all jumbled up. I'm not really here. I'm in my bedroom dreaming about you, again, and I'll wake up alone."

"Nala—"

"I really don't want to wake up alone, and I know I'll be ever so disappointed if I do again. I should really wake up right now. Yes, that's it—I'll pinch myself awake. Right now!"

With that, she reached up to give herself a hard, bruising pinch on the arm. But before she could, there was a blur of movement. A warm hand caught hers, and she blinked down at the long fingers curled around her own, before she looked up. And as she stared up at Seung Jae, she realised that this wasn't a dream.

This was real.

"Oh, bloody freaking hell," she whispered. "You're really here, aren't you?"

His lips quirked, even as his cheeks were still flushed. "Well, yes."

"Shite." She stared up at him, wide-eyed, and her head still pounding. "This is really embarrassing. I'm so sorry! I must've...I think I took more pills than I should've, and I'm really tired, and I keep on babbling..."

"It's alright," he shushed her. "You just need some rest. You'll feel better in the morning."

"I—"

The words died on her tongue as he grabbed the throw pillow and set it under her head. Then he shrugged out of his jacket and draped it over her. Suddenly, she was overwhelmed by his scent all over again. While it didn't do anything to soothe her headache, it did calm her nerves.

"—will you stay?" she blurted, unable to help herself. "I...I just don't want to wake up alone again."

His gaze warmed and he tucked a stray curl behind her ear. "I'm not going anywhere, Nala."