passive-aggressive | hvc

uno

Instead of focusing on the work laid out on the kitchen table, Elle counts each tick the clock makes before the big hand moves. She wondered why she had a clock if she always checked the time on her phone anyway.

The time read 12:06 PM.

She had spent ten minutes debating if she should get up now or twenty minutes from now when there was a buzz at the door. Being as paranoid as she often was, Elle freezes before getting up to look through the peephole.

She's about two feet from the door when she hears, "Elle, it's me. My phone's dead. Let me in before I pee all over your custom-made ma—."

She quickly opens the door to be greeted by a seemingly inhibited Hansol. His chestnut brown hair is damp from the rain, and she silently worries that he's cold.

"Sol. What are you doing here?"

He lets himself in. Stumbling past the foyer and trailing drops of water behind him, he moves towards the couch.

Doesn't he need to pee?

Elle hesitantly follows; nowadays, she was always tiptoeing around him, as if she had something to hide. Technically, she did.

Hansol lays down and closes his eyes with a sigh. Elle sits down next to him, and he feels around to find her hands. Amused, she watches, letting him intertwine their hands.

"Girls are so complicated."

Elle laughs a little.

"How so?"

"Well, I broke it off with that girl I was telling you about."

A part of her lights up at the sound of that, and she hates herself for it.

"What happened?"

"It was ridiculous. She said I didn't care about her or our relationship. She said she didn't like how I would never fight back with her. In the end, I always just agreed with her. Isn't that what she wants?"

Now, that, Elle understood.

Oh, poor girl.

This was Hansol's greatest flaw, if not his greatest strength.

"I get where she's coming from."

He cracks open an eye and gave her his trademark look of confusion.

Elle slightly smiles as he continues to stare, wanting her to explain herself.

"You're not the most expressive person. You react to regular things in a regular if not comical way, but when it comes to your feelings, you're... I don't know, vague?"

He sits up in a flash, and they're face-to-face. Her breath hitches involuntarily, and she can't help but lock her eyes on his lips.

"And you can say this because you're outspoken about your feelings?", he asks with a steady tone.

She senses an accusation, and her tendency to be defensive rears its ugly head.

She leans back, raising a brow.

"What're you getting at?"

He stares at her with no particular expression for a second before leaning back down.

"Nothing."

Neither of them continue the conversation, and Elle offers him tea as she gets up to find a towel for his hair that was now soaking the armrest of her couch.

As she brews two cups of tea from the kitchen, she glances at him, noticing he's asleep.

God, maybe I need to be less obvious about how I felt.

Maybe pacifist Hansol knows more than he lets on. Or maybe she's just thinking too much about it. Regardless, he must, under no circumstances, find out she is hopelessly in love with him.