delicate | K.TH

11

AMIN

"One standard inhaler, please."

"Thank you." I murmur, tucking it into my pocket the moment I get it. It wasn't the best, but it would still help.

After visiting the pharmacy, I go straight to Taehyung's empty house. I'd memorized the passcode from that night, and it's an easy way in.

I had to do this before he came back.

The moment I'm inside, I search the kitchen drawers until I find the one with the pill bottle I'd seen. Then I slide the inhaler right beside the bottle, knowing he'd only ever open this drawer if he had an attack.

It would make me feel better, knowing that at least he'd have this with him.

And I open the door to Taehyung.

My face instantly pales, the moment his eyes fix down on me. His expression twists, and I stumble back.

"What the hell are you doing in here?"

"I—"

"Get out." He says, and my panicked eyes brush over the clock. It's a little past five— the time he should still be at work.

I bite my lip. "Taehyung."

"Leave."

And the words on my tongue fade away to nothing.

What would I even say.

My features turning harsh, I brush past him and storm down the pathway. Anger's showing in my cheeks, in a bright flush.

He'd looked disgusted of me for a brief second.

Like I was just another one of the damn secretaries.

__________________________

"Shilla?"

"I need to get drunk."

"Right...Right now?" She says, and my hand tightens on the phone. "I mean, I always did want to see you drunk, but I didn't expect—"

"Right now."

She pauses for a second.

"Alright then. Do you know the night bar at the street, Amin? The one next to that huge restaurant?"

"Yes."

"Get dressed and meet me there in ten."

She hangs up. Shilla knew the bars and clubs in this city like the back of her palm— she'd always enjoyed parties, getting drunk and having fun.

I'd never said yes to her invitations before.

But tonight I needed distraction.

________________________

"You look so good." She gapes, and I raise an eyebrow at her.

"I'm in jeans, Shilla."

"Exactly!" She yelps, clapping her hands together like a seal. "You're always in sweatpants— and slacks for work! Do you know how many times I've asked you to show your legs a bit?"

I shrug, patting her head.

"And you're showing shoulders."

"I dressed up for you." She winks, and I laugh as she leads me into the entrance. It's loud and smoky— the lights slightly dimmed inside.