KANG SIAN
The warm sunlight slitting through the window draws a line against his sleeping face, and his long lashes glow golden.
I can still taste the faint hint of vanilla on my lips as I giggle, remembering how he literally had to catch his breath every four seconds last night.
Watching his chest rise and fall in a deep rhythm calms me, and I end up looking for an entire five minutes before I finally get to my senses and pull my legs from the blankets.
My lips are still curved in a semi-smile as I walk out the room when my eyes land on the bottles of medicine strewn across the counter.
I thought I'd left them straight and stacked up neatly last night.
I'm still trying to remember if I had when the door creaks further open, revealing Taehyung with eyes barely slit awake.
"Did you touch these last night?" I ask curiously as he glances sleepily towards the direction of the counter.
"Yeah." He mumbles, flopping down onto the couch like a rag doll.
My eyes widen.
"Tae— you're only supposed to take two every day." I say furiously as I quickly rearrange the bottles. "How many did you take? This one looks nearly empty."
"I don't really know." He answers, looking a bit surprised at my tone. "My chest hurt."
I was almost certain this had something like twelve last night— had he seriously taken eight tablets? That was dangerous for his health!
"Are you okay?" He asks, slipping of the couch and ambling over to where I'm standing.
He peeks over carefully at my stony expression.
"I'm sorry I took so much." He says sincerely, biting his lip when he sees the near-empty container. "Are you mad at me?"
"I'm not mad."
"You seem mad." He says uncertainly, his hand clenching and unclenching next to his side. "You sound mad, too. I'm sorry."
"I'm just worrying."
"Is being mad and being worried the same thing?" He asks, and I chew on my lip as I screw the cap back on. "Because I think—"
"I'm really not mad."
"Sorry, what?" He says innocently, and I swallow a laugh of disbelief as he turns back to folding his slender fingers. "Anyways, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you mad—"
"I'm not!"
"Ah— you're yelling now." He points out like the most purest child that could ever exist. Honestly, even a two-year old would've been faster than him.
My face begins to flush a dangerous color.
"Your face is turning red." He describes, and I very much nearly knock him out as he swallows visibly. "Should I—"
Kicking a chair over just so that I can get up to his stupidly tall height, I press my lips to his when he begins to mumble something infuriating again.
Not even a full four seconds pass this time before I feel him trying to break away for breath, and I purposely don't let him go for two more seconds as my mouth curves into a half-smirk.
When I finally let go, he gasps furiously.
"W-W-What was that for...?" He sighs deeply, still looking confused as I laugh uncontrollably.
