What if...? || Markhyuck

-36-

[november 2020]

[minhyung]

In the morning I woke up with a headache that I've never even dreamed of in my worst nightmares. It literally burst my skull and chapped lips wouldn't make life easier. I opened eyes, closing them almost immediately when pupils were attacked by a terribly bright light.

Where I am?

I got up slowly to sitting position, feeling literally every one of my limbs doing this, as if I had been running the obstacle relay at survival camp the day before. I looked sourly at my bandaged hand and bloody shirt. 

Fuck, I feel like shit.

Apparently, I was in Hyuck's disgustingly cluttered room. Looking at what it looked like, I wasn't surprised at all that he never wanted to let me in here. Just as I initially thought he was hiding something here, now I understood that he was simply concerned about my cleanness-sensitive heart.

Small fragments of yesterday evening began slowly coming back to me. Gradually, before my eyes came memories of consuming expensive whisky from Marco, reviewing photos and then, after a huge hole in my memory, appeared to me image of Donghyuck pulling me upstairs and reminded me of mumblig cheap flummery to him before falling asleep. In the face of this, all that mess around me just turned pale.

"Good God," I sighed heavily, hiding my face in hands. How low can a person fall?

I just hoped that I didn't do anything stupid during the time of total oblivion. If I hit a tree, the police would probably be here by now. If, on the other hand, I left some open files on top, Marco and Steven would also get me out of bed long ago. It would seem that I got to Lee's house without causing much damage to the property of both the company and society. The only question was how I actually got here from work. These two places weren't separated by some trivial kilometers and yet in my life in this state I couldn't get here on foot or by car. Too many things were left unanswered and this fact disturbed me greatly.

"Good morning," I said uncertainly to Hyuck's mother in Korean as I remembered when he told me that she still prefers when they comunicate in that language at home. She was sitting on the couch in the living room knitting a blanket. The woman looked at me suspiciously and just nodded in greeting. There was no option for her to like me someday. So far, I haven't even given her a grounds to do so. "Hi," I murmured uncertainly to my boyfriend, sitting down with obvious pain at the kitchen table.

"Hello, party princess," laughed as he approached me and gave a kiss on the forehead. "But you have a huge hematoma here," murmured, frowning in surprise. He ran thumb over the place where his mouth had been a moment ago. "Where you got this?"

"I would like to know too," I sighed, catching in hand hair still wet after the shower. "How did I get here?" I asked in a pained voice.

"Don't even piss me off," Hyuck simply said, putting water in the kettle. "What do you want for breakfast?" he asked instead.

"I won't swallow anything," I sighed heavily, rubbing my swollen eyelids.

"Then drink tea at least," he ordered and I realized that any objection was out of the question, so I just nodded in agreement. "You got here by car, of course," he finally told, sitting down in front of me with a plate of scrambled eggs.

"What the hell?" asked in hoarse voice. "You're just making fun of me," I sobered up suddenly, looking at him in disbelief.

"I would love to, honey," he said with a full mouth. "Fortunately, the car is in one piece, which I can't say about the owner," he added after a while chewing a slice of bread.