stuck in my fantasy like dreaming it to be real life
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Seulgi stood next to me, her shoulder just brushing mine.
On another day, I wouldn't have hesitated before moving away from her, since the memory of the night in the club was still fresh in my mind, as bitter as the juice of a lemon. However, I stilled my impatient hands and stayed put, knowing that even a single move I made away from her would be taken as a sign of weakness.
From the corner of my eye, I could still see a faint smirk on her face, as if she knew exactly what I was thinking about. It was irritating, to say the least, but I didn't take the bait, focusing on Taeyong instead.
Thankfully, his injured leg had healed fast enough that he was able to walk by the end of a week. There was still a slight limp in his gait every time he moved, though, which made me wince. The races were off again, and though the racers had left him alone in the hospital (with Jungkook, who I still didn't have any idea what to make of) they needed to question him to identify the threat.
So we were all gathered around his bed, some sitting, some standing—simply because we were too jittery to rest—watching him with intent eyes.
The idea that Taeyong might be personally connected to Jungkook was troubling. I had barely seen the manager, and it gave me chills to imagine him sitting in the room with Taeyong, talking for hours on end about something I didn't know. Maybe that was why the redhead had looked so cut-off from the rest of the group when Jungkook had been missing.
Maybe they were much closer than I had thought. But how close? What was the manner of their relationship? Was it friendly, or based purely off business?
If so, what kind of business?
It had been hard enough staying away from him for so long, guilt eating at me for having argued with him just a couple of days before his accident. This was the first time I was seeing him in a week, and I drunk in the sight of him, safe and sound.
I had been, admittedly, scared to lose him, too.
Every now and then, his eyes flickered to mine, a look that was discreet but held volumes. Pain, warmth, desire, gratefulness...love.
Every time he looked at me, my heart jumped into my throat.
"Do you remember anything about what the person who crashed into you looked like?" Vernon asked, a deep frown pulling his eyebrows together. "Anything, even the model of the car. Was it too dark?"
"Not much," Taeyong answered, voice gravelly. It was weird seeing them interact, two people who were supposed to be at opposite poles of my universe. Two people who were supposed to be against each other, I thought as I noticed Vernon being oblivious to the dark looks Taeyong gave him every two minutes. "It was painted dark, I think. Deep blue or purple."
