Boundless

제 14 장

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"No?"
Jae's smile faltered, the light in his eyes dimming just slightly—like a flicker before the wind swallows the flame.

"Don't you think it's a good idea?"
His voice was softer now, edged with the slightest trace of hurt, though he tried to hide it.

"No, Jae. I don't."

He blinked, stunned—not by the words themselves, but by the certainty in my tone. I watched as he tried to piece together something hopeful in his mind, like rebuilding a vase already shattered.

"You basically live with me anyway..." he mumbled, almost like he was trying to convince himself more than me.

I let out a heavy sigh and pushed my fingers through my hair, trying to ease the pressure building behind my temples.
"Jae, I can't live with you. Not like this. We can't just leap into something so big without thinking it through."

He frowned deeply, his brows knitting together, lips pressed tight.
"It's been five months. Do you realize that? Almost a year together. This isn't sudden."

He reached into the bag he brought in earlier and placed the bouquet of fresh lilies—my favorite—on the table. Nestled between the petals was a key. Silver. New. Symbolic.

"I became your girlfriend less than a week after we met," I said slowly, trying to gather my thoughts as gently as possible.
"I gave myself to you the second day. We've never had brakes, Jae. Maybe it's time we touch the ground."

He rubbed his forehead, exasperated, the other hand landing on his hip.
"You're being unreasonable," he muttered.
"You're here five days out of the week. You sleep in my bed, you cook in my kitchen, you argue with me over what shows we watch. You are practically my wife already, Athena."

"Exactly."
My voice cracked as I said it, and I knew—God, I knew—that my words were going to pierce something soft in him.
"And that's the problem. At this rate, we'll grow bored of each other."

His entire face shifted. His jaw locked, and his eyes grew dark, but not with anger—disappointment. A sadness he didn't bother hiding.

"I could never grow bored of you."
His voice, low and filled with an unwavering certainty, brought stillness to the room. The air thickened between us like smoke. My heart knocked against my ribs, angry with me for drawing blood from someone who only ever offered his heart.

He turned away slowly.

"I'm not going to force you."

He moved to walk away.

But I couldn't let him.

I reached out, my fingers wrapping around his wrist.
"No... wait."

He stopped.

"I didn't mean I'd get tired of you. I'm afraid I'll get too comfortable. That I'll build my life around something... and it'll disappear."

He turned to face me again, and the expression he wore—God, it made me ache. He placed a hand on his chest, tapping lightly over his heart.

"Nothing is going to happen. I have you. What more could matter?"
His voice trembled but didn't falter.
"You say comfort like it's something dangerous—but I want that with you. I crave it. I want you to feel safe, like this is your home too. I hate waking up and finding you gone. It eats at me, Athena. It's like a hunger I can't soothe."

His arms pulled me close, and I melted into him—my cheek pressed against the place where his heartbeat lived.
"I'm going to build us something steady, something beautiful. I'll work, I'll fight—I'll do everything I can so we can live in peace. Together."

He kissed my forehead gently, like sealing a promise in skin. I looked up at him with tears brimming in my eyes.

"What did I do to deserve you?" I whispered.
"You saved me from my haunted heart."

His smile returned, warm and full.
"And I am the one who is blessed," he said, brushing his fingers over my cheek.
"My girlfriend is a brilliant, ambitious, beautiful Black woman, with a laugh that makes the sun jealous and a body I could write poetry about. I love you, Athena. I really do."

He kissed me, soft at first—then deeper, more certain. But as warmth spread through me, something else turned inside my stomach.

I pulled away, my expression twisting.
"What's wrong?"

I didn't answer. I bolted.

The bathroom floor was cold under my knees as I emptied my stomach. My body trembled, my breath sharp.
Jae was right there behind me, pulling my hair away, whispering soft nothings like charms to ward off the sickness.

Then I heard it—
"Athena... your nose. It's bleeding."

⸻

He carried me to bed, wrapped me in blankets, wiped my forehead with a damp cloth like a ritual of care.

"This is ginger tea," he said, placing a warm mug into my hand.
"Drink it before it cools. It'll help with your fever and your nausea."

He kissed my knuckles tenderly, and I looked up at him, cheeks flushed, skin damp with fever.

"Thank you. I feel a little better."

He shook his head, laying beside me and nestling his head against mine.

"You've been sick for a little while. We might have to get you medicated if it doesn't stop. That nosebleed scared me."

"I've managed before, Jae. I'll be okay."

"That's not what I want to hear," he said, his voice low, vulnerable.
"I want you to need me, Athena. I want you to know I'll be there. Every time."

I bit my lip, heart twisting. He sat up and gently pulled me up with him.

"Drink the tea," he urged, brushing my hair from my face.
"Careful—it's hot."

I wrapped the damp cloth around the mug and blew over it, steam curling into the air.

Then he said it.

"I wonder if you'll still take care of me like this... when you become my wife."

I choked. Tea sprayed from my mouth, and I sputtered.

Jae howled with laughter, already grabbing a towel to clean up the mess.

*"I didn't mean now!" he said between wheezes.

"You jerk!" I shouted.
"How do you tease a sick person like this?"

"You'll survive," he smirked.

I hurled a pillow at him. He dodged, laughing.
"Next time I won't miss."

He walked over and kissed me quickly before I could grab another one. Then he pounced, capturing my wrists and pinning them above my head on the bed.

"Let me go!" I said, wriggling.

He smiled, biting his lip.
"No."

"Jae."

"Call me daddy first."

I burst into laughter, completely losing it. He turned beet red and dropped my wrists, covering his face in embarrassment.

"That is—by far—the most cringe thing you've ever said," I wheezed.

He darted into the bathroom and slammed the door shut.

"Jae! Jaeeee! Daddy!" I shouted, still giggling uncontrollably.

"You know, for a sick person, you sound just fine!" he called through the door.

I collapsed back onto the bed, laughter echoing through the room, and for a moment—between sickness and love, fears and flowers—I felt lighter than I had in weeks.

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