A World of our Own | K.TH *COMPLETED*

Spies

"It's going to be fine, V. Whoever threw that at me probably got bored— he hasn't shown any signs for an entire month!" Even though I try to ease his stress to the best of my ability, he just shakes his head unconvincingly at me and places himself down on the chair opposite my bed.

The wound still throbbed, a distant reminder of the incident that had taken place a month ago. But it was in the past, and life had been perfectly normal ever since I'd been released.

But V— as stubborn as he was, had told me that he wouldn't be leaving my side for not even a second. Now he watched me while I ate, while I took out the trash, and even while I slept, barely getting any himself.

And he simply refused to let me go anywhere alone, eyes sparking with fear every time I mentioned anything like that.

It was that look that had stopped me from asking anymore.

"You're going to collapse at this rate," I mutter worriedly as I brush the smooth skin underneath his wide, slanted eyes. A light shadow darkened the surface below, proof that he'd been skipping on his sleep for too long.

It was true— he drifted back and forth, never getting deep sleep to restore the glow back to his skin. I think he averaged only about three hours of sleep per night— and that was usually rare.

But despite the tremendous lack of rest, his magically fast healing abilities somehow never seemed to decrease. His voice grew better with every passing day— to the point where now he could whisper quiet words without strain.

He was careful with his words, fearful that with one wrong move, he'd be sent back to square one. V absolutely hated the fact that he couldn't talk to me, and seemed to direct all of his focus to his larynx to heal.

That, I had no issues with.

But this? Sleeping only a few hours each night, only to be woken again with the boring, pointless purpose of watching me sleep?

Now that I really had issues with.

As he tucks his jaw into his hands, I point my breakfast spoon at him. Judging by how exhausted he seemed, there was no doubt that the frustratingly stubborn eighteen year old had spent the night with his eyes on me. Because of this, I always went to sleep promising myself to stay awake, to stay alert. But sleep never failed to take me down in its wispy tendrils— which was why I awed at V for resisting the tempting pull for hours and hours at a time.

"I think I'm going to go buy some sedatives this afternoon, just so I could have you stay asleep. This can't go on forever, Tae. It's really not good for you."

"I feel fine," He murmurs softly, widening his eyes in an attempt to make them look more refreshed and energized. "Don't worry, Tzuyu. Just focus on yourself."

How can I, when you're like this?

Knowing that anything I say won't change that one-track mind of his, I purse my lips in disappointment. My appetite suddenly hurls itself out the window, leaving nothing but a sullen, unhungry girl behind.

"Eat your breakfast," He reminds me quietly, his voice gentle but hiding a note of iron. "I won't let you skip— you barely ate anything last night."

"That's not fair," I whine, knowing that V would hate me bringing this back up over and over again. "I say that you shouldn't skip your night's sleep, but you never listen to me."

His face hardens before softening into something like cold warmth, gentle but firm.

"That's completely different."

At his reprimand, I look at him in disbelief. How was that any different? It was literally the same thing— it just had different labels.

When I go back to looking like someone just ran over my pet puppy with a 4 x 4 Jeep, V gives me a soft sigh. His expression, as always, is frustratingly unreadable as he speaks in light, quiet words.

"I feel like if I leave you alone for a single moment, something horrible will happen to you. And I don't want to watch at the sidelines again, helpless to protect you from getting hurt."

My heart warns against my will to keep it stoic and frozen. I just couldn't help it sometimes— he meant well, and how could I scold him for something that he wanted to do for me? And something so sweet?

"But you're beating yourself up over this," I say. "I don't like watching you suffer because of my sake, V. Do you know how painful that is for me?"

To keep him from coming up with another reprimand that I couldn't argue with, I touch his lips with mine. His very presence made me drunk with ecstasy— and apparently, him as well.

A sudden stream of sunlight rushes in through the open blinds, drenching the side of V's sculptures face in a glowing hue. His dark eyes seem to produce a light of itself as it reflects the sun— golden, gorgeous, ethereal.

And of everything that I can't describe with words and phrases.

I feel the firm curve of his arm hug mine snugly, drawing me even closer to his warmth. The life giving sunlight couldn't even begin to compare with this feeling. Nothing could compare with this.

He felt like the first touch of winter and the final song of spring, and everything in between. The dark waves of brewing thunderstorms, yet soft and gentle as a drop of morning dew on the smooth surface of a leaf.

Gosh, when did being around him make me so awfully poetic?

Trying to stop the flow of seasonal, nature words that continued to pour into my mind, I burrow in even further. His arms could take me whole, and I wouldn't even care.

These kind of moments were everything, defined everything.

If only we hadn't been so drunken in each other, one of us might've noticed as a watchful pair of eyes fixed on us outside the fragile barriers of a mere window.