Elevator ♥ Choi Jongho

01.

A yellow rose garden. A boy you lost. A scar on the side of your wrist.

♥

"Hold the door!" you yelled, and the figure standing in the elevator quickly stuck a hand in the closing gap of the metal doors. It bumped against his palm and bounced back.

You panted as you dashed into the waiting elevator, the heavy cardboard box in your arms making your shoulders ache and your back hurt.

"What floor?" he asked politely, his head inclined to yours. You turned him and that's when you first looked at him. Your breath caught in your throat.

It wasn't anything that he wore that caught your eye. He was dressed simply in a button-up long-sleeved shirt tucked into his pants. It wasn't his build either. Not his broad shoulders or the biceps on his arms. Not his face that was so sweet and so angelic, his hair dark parted down the middle and brushing his forehead.

It was everything else about him.

Everything that you couldn't put your finger on, but pulled you towards him by a red string over your chest.

"E-eighth, please." You stumbled over your words and immediately felt the growing heat on your cheeks. You quickly turned away, but not before noticing that he hadn't needed to press the button to the eighth floor of your new apartment. The circular button was already glowing yellow.

You felt the jolt of the elevator as it started moving and saw your reflection in the mirrored doors.

Standing beside him with the line of the doors separating you from him, you looked like a mess. Your hair was plastered to your cheeks, sticky with sweat in the humid, summer afternoon. Not to mention, your face was still glowing pink with embarrassment, but you hoped that your hair would cover it and he wouldn't notice.

You shifted the box uncomfortably. It was full to the brim with your groceries sitting on top, and you'd been carrying boxes similar to this one the whole day since you were moving in.

His eyes flicked to yours as he noticed your discomfort.

"Would you like some help?" he offered kindly, his voice gentle.

"Oh, no. I've got it."

"I insist. If it's too heavy..." his hands reached out for your box.

"Ah, it's okay, I- Oh!" you exclaimed as your groceries began rolling off the top. An apple spilled out from the bag and tumbled to the floor.

Quickly, his hands dipped and caught it mid-drop and your eyes grew wide. He offered it to you and you shifted the box again to hold out your hand. Your fingers brushed for a second before you pulled away. Your heart was pounding in your chest.

"T-thanks," you stammered.

His lips stretched into a smile and they parted as he began to say something, but the elevator dinged and the doors pulled open. Instead, he gestured for you to exit first and you did.