15 drowning in you

Hyun-ki

Things were bound to be different, and I knew that going into this. However, I was holding onto the hope that this would be a good change and not one that would make me regret my decision.

As I gestured for Chanwoo to enter my apartment, I let out a slightly weary sigh as I closed the door behind him.

It felt so odd; so different. The thing is, Chan had been to my apartment hundreds of times, and vice versa. We often ate together, lounged around on the weekends, and he even ended up crashing on my couch most of the time.

This was different, though.

He wasn't going to be leaving the next morning or asking me for permission to stay the night. He was always welcome, and I was always sure to remind him of that. Now, my home was both of ours.

The thought alone sparked a flame of excitement deep in my stomach as I tried not to let my mind wander too much.

As excited as I was for this new journey, a part of me was worried. What if he gets sick of me? What if he starts to realize that I'm not worth the time or effort that he'd been putting into this friendship for so many years?

I was snapped out of my thoughts when Chanwoo set his duffle bags next to the couch and looked around absentmindedly.

"Where should I put my stuff?" He had a gentle smile on his face, like he wouldn't dare let the quirk of his lips fall in the slightest.

"You can use the other side of my closet." I started to wander down the hall to my bedroom, knowing he would try to interject, "I have a double closet, remember? I only use one side, anyways."

Seconds later, tentative footsteps sounded from behind me, picking up pace until they stopped at my heels. I strode over to my closet and opened the doors, revealing the empty side to Chanwoo and offering to take one of his bags.

When I turned around, though, he was no longer standing there. Instead, he was plopped down on my bed, arms and legs spread dramatically around him. I shook my head fondly and let out a small, breathy chuckle.

"Lazy ass." I mumbled, grabbing his duffle bags and lugging them over to the bed where I zipped them open and started to unpack them one by one.

Every time I would spare a glance at the goofy man laid out on my bed, he would snap his eyes shut and pretend to be asleep. He even added fake, obnoxious snores to prove his point. I smacked him lightly on the arm and felt my cheeks flush as his stare bore into my face as I worked on getting him unpacked.

When I looked down at him again, he didn't bother closing his eyes. He just laid there, head propped up on an elbow that revealed his strong biceps and the veins running through them. He watched me with a look in his eye that was slightly heavier than observant. He looked curious with a hint of something else that I couldn't quite place my finger on.

I was hanging up one of his sweaters that I secretly adored on him when I heard the faint squeak of my mattress and quiet movement from behind me. I didn't think much of it, assuming Chanwoo had to use the restroom or was leaving to get a snack.

All of a sudden, an unmistakable warmth radiated from just behind me. I swallowed, my ears surely going red with how flushed I suddenly felt. Chanwoo's breath tickled my neck and covered my skin in a blanket of goosebumps.

I cursed myself mentally as I shivered. He was probably about to crack up, joking about how easy it was to tease me. Instead, I felt his long, strong arms wrap around my middle and pull me into his chest from behind.

My breath caught in my throat, hands freezing where I had them raised to smooth down over the sweater I'd hung up.

"Hyunie," his voice was low and gravelly as his lips barely touched the shell of my ear, "thank you for doing this; for letting me stay with you. You really didn't have to, but you did."

I let my eyes fall shut for a moment, trying not to think about how he stood at least an entire head taller than me, and how hard and warm his chest and stomach felt as my back was pulled flush against it.

"You don't have to thank me." I risked losing my composure completely and turned my head just enough for our eyes to meet, "You can always count on me, Chan."

For a moment, his face was blank. His eyes were flitting all around my face before settling back on my own. He seemed to be looking for something, but the more he scrutinized me, the more flustered I became. His mind seemed to be going a mile a minute, but before I could say anything more, he seemed to snap out of his thoughts.

He stepped back, took in a deep breath, and allowed a tiny smile to bloom onto his full lips. He patted the top of my head gently and turned back around like nothing had even happened. Instead of throwing himself back onto my bed, he pulled the last few remaining items from his duffle bag and started to hang them up himself.

I tried not to feel disappointed at the lack of his warmth against me. It only lasted a moment, but I could still feel him on my skin. My flesh burned hot where he'd been touching me, and my cheeks were surely more red than a ripened cherry.

I cleared my throat and scratched the back of my neck, my nerves still shot from our little interaction that took place just moments prior.

It was pathetic how affected I was by anything he did. He didn't even have to be looking at me; I was always so whipped. Moments like that, though, we're what really got to me.

The times where he would hug me for just a second longer than usual, or cuddle me just a little closer when we watched a movie on my couch, or when his gaze would linger just a second longer than it normally did.

Those were the times that set my heart on fire, causing my pulse to rabbit in my chest and give me a slight, minuscule flame of hope that maybe, just maybe, he feels the same way for me as I do for him.

Since he'd woken up from the coma, these moments were occurring more and more often than before.

I tried to pin it to the fact that maybe he just missed me, and was simply enjoying the time we spent together as much as he could. Maybe he had some sort of awakening and wanted to cherish the time he spent with those he cares for.

Surely that's it, right?

I tried not to get too hopeful, but now every time he looks at me, his gaze is heavier than before. It's not the same, and I can't quite decide if I like it or not. It's lingering, leaving a hot trail wherever it goes, sending a scorching hot fire to my cheeks and blood to thrum wildly through my veins.

When he touches me, it seems to mean something more. It's like his skin is putting out an energy that wasn't there before, sticking to my own and making my flesh catch fire with it.

"I'll let you unpack the last bag on your own." I announced into the quiet room, Chanwoo's low humming being the only sound other than my own voice, "I'm going to see what I have in the fridge to make for lunch."

He nodded, giving me that sweet little smile again that made my heart jump a bit. He turned back around toward the closet, now whistling a tune absentmindedly as he got to work.

I left the room, starting down the hallway and venturing to the kitchen where I ran a hand down my face. I leaned against the counter and sighed softly.

Back in Chanwoo's hospital room just days ago, my mind was warning me. It told me this was a stupid idea and that I was only going to hurt myself in the end.

'He's not just your best friend. You're in love with him. What makes you think that you can live with him in your one bedroom apartment and be totally fine? You'll combust into a million pathetic, love struck smithereens before the end of the first week.'

My heart, however, was much more optimistic.

'So what if you're in love with him? He's not just some guy you have a schoolgirl crush on; he's your best friend. You'd do anything for him. If the roles were switched, he would do the same for you in a heartbeat. Stop thinking with that overbearingly anxious and pessimistic brain of yours and start thinking with me instead.'

Both my brain and my heart had valid points, though. Being in such close proximity with Chan almost constantly was bound to be a bit difficult at first, considering how he could always set my body aflame with a single look. However, I'd had many years of practice. Crushing on him in secrecy for so long meant that I had to become decent at hiding how I felt. I had to brush off his sly comments and teasing little jokes as if they meant nothing.

I had to pretend that I wasn't completely melting inside every time he showed even an ounce of affection.

Recently, though, it's getting harder. Before the accident, I'd gotten pretty good at shaking it off and letting my brain tell me that it meant nothing to him; just a guy showing some love to his best friend of many years.

Since he woke up, every look and every touch has me craving more.

He's the same Lee Chanwoo I'd known since Junior High. Yet, something slightly different radiated off of him.

It was intoxicating.

I jumped a bit as Chanwoo's lean figure ascended into the room, almond eyes wandering around the kitchen a bit before landing on me.

I raised my eyebrows a bit, "Already done unpacking?" I was a bit shocked at how quickly he'd managed to finish.

Then again, how long had I been leaned against the counter pathetically lost in my thoughts? For all I knew, it could've been an hour.

"Yup!" He sauntered past me and opened the refrigerator door, pulling it open and sticking his head inside childishly. A few moments later, he stuck his head back out, closing the door and huffing a little.

"Let's order fried chicken." He had a small pout on his lips, eyes widening as he pleaded with me silently, "Come on, it'll be my treat. It's the least I can do." He refused to drop the act, waiting for my response while begging like a puppy.

My heart thrummed weakly in my chest, laughing at me as it knew I'd already lost this battle.

"Fine," I gave in, watching as a blinding grin broke out on Chan's lips as he raised his fists victoriously,

"but you're not paying next time."

He nodded furiously, already making his way over to the couch to retrieve his cell phone to order the food though I was positive he ignored the part about me paying next time. I let my eyes fall closed as he leaned over the other side of the counter once he'd grabbed it and ruffled my hair with his large hand, letting the strands soothe between his long fingers for a moment before he pulled them away.

His cologne wafted through the air as he passed me to make his way into the family room, already dialing the number for delivery. I released a shaky sigh as I let the deep musky scent envelop my senses, getting lost for a second in my own little euphoria.

Moments like this keep making it harder. Why couldn't he just dial the damn number and order the chicken? Why did he have to come back over here and play with my hair like that?

I could still feel the ghost of his fingers on my scalp as if they were still there. Before, I would've already shaken it off. Now, I can't seem to get my pulse to slow down.

It's only the first day, how am I supposed to last a few more weeks?

His deep voice rumbled across the room as he spoke into the phone and rambled off our order. He paced back and forth absentmindedly as he did so, running a large hand through his raven locks and licking his plush lips out of habit.

It'll get easier, right? I probably just miss him a lot, that's all. It'll be like before, where I can control my emotions and play it off like nothing has a meaning.

I can be his best friend whose secretly in love with him again.

With his lingering touches and heavy gaze, it feels like I'm walking on quick sand; every step I try to take away from him only pulling me in deeper.

Go easy on me, Chanwoo.

For my sake, have some mercy on me.

After he finally ended the call, he turned toward me with a childlike look of excitement on his face, "The food will be here in an hour," he walked toward the hallway and announced, "I'm going to wash up!" I heard the click of the bathroom door closing, leaving me alone with my thoughts once again.

Without him here, I felt like I could finally breathe some fresh air again. The relief was short lived, and I knew it.

Before I know it, he'll be back. He'll be making goofy remarks and sly comments while we wait for the food to arrive that'll make my eyes crease around the edges and my belly ache from laughing so hard.

His soothing voice will put me in a trance and leave me wanting to hear more. Those eyes, lips, and brushes of skin that I used to be able to handle are just going to keep pulling me under.

All I can do is hold onto that small raft of assurance, trying to stay afloat. I can keep telling myself that I can do this. I'll just keep telling myself that I can go forever keeping the way I feel a secret as long as he's happy.

I can keep pretending that I'm not drowning in him exactly the way that I was afraid I would from the very beginning.