jeans

JieMi

Sorry, was what JieMi wanted to say. Please forgive me, were others. I never meant to hurt you, never wanted this to happen, never wished for this to occur. But the apology stayed lodged in his throat, at the tip of his tongue. Those words were birds without wings, fish without fin, they could never, ever escape his throat. For whenever he got the courage to do it, her eyes would turn him away.

It was guarded steel. There was a glass wall that she had forged without his knowledge, the burn of hurt in her eyes replaced by a steeliness that scared him. It made the words choke in his throat, like the slimy porridge he swallowed that refused to go down, like the blend of the food that he had to swallow to live. It was the only thing he could eat these days. Blended mixtures of everything he had to eat to survive, everything else tasted like ash. And those that didn't tasted like apple pie, heaps and heaps of it. Apple pie, apple sauce, apple juice, apple cream—

"You first? Or me?" she asked, hands on her camera.

Her hair had grown longer, dark curls that seemed soft to the touch, cheeks flushed pink with health. A colour he had never seen on her face in the past. A colour that melted away whenever her eyes graced his frame. But it remained now; she was no longer pallid in his presence. Why? He didn't want to know; he feared the answer to his question.

Oh, how did things go so wrong so quickly? He didn't know how, but it had all crashed and burned into flames with blinks of his eyes. The barrier that he once made to protect himself was infested with thorny roses that stung his fingers.

And he wished that she could guide him, that she could take his hand and lead him in his darkness. And he wished she could let him breathe again, let him relax and just—Just—He couldn't say it even in his head, he didn't deserve to say it. He didn't deserve anything from her, after all the mistakes he had made.

"You take the picture," he answered, afraid of what he would do if he saw that look in her eyes through the camera. The camera was objective, it was mechanical, it was a technical eye that saw things too clearly. It took away the blurred lines, the fog, the delusions and showed the harsh truth of reality. He didn't want to see her eyes in the camera, he was afraid that he would see things he didn't like there.

She nodded, appearing cute and small, lips a rose that he longed to kiss. Eyes the colour of spun sugar on sticks of plastic. "It makes sense, since you're already mostly naked." He sniffed at her words, and the smirk that followed was instinctual. It lighted his mood just a little, erased the memories of Ezra's words, the hostility, the anger, the regret. For a brief moment, JieMi was just JieMi and Amber was just Amber.

"I told you that boudoir photography for school isn't about nudity." He would lose his head if he got to saw her naked, not with the memories of her fresh in his head. Not with the scent of apples in his nose, not with her wet, dripping pussy, a forbidden flower that he could never touch in his line of sight. His cock twitched, eager and wanting, his balls tight with the need for release. He pushed down the urge to shift his package, but he managed to discretely press his thighs over his length, nudging it into a better position. .

"I know, I know," she insisted. "A private room of the model, a voyeuristic undertone. Implied nudity, class and elegance. I get it, so lie down." She patted his bed, looking at him expectantly. His bed because his brothers were asleep in her room; naked and drenched in her scent of sweet, sweet apple pie. It grew sweeter by the day, so much so that his mouth flooded with saliva in her presence and he had to swallow twice to stop from drooling like an idiot. It was an odd sort of need, one that he didn't understand. One that made his cock harden further, one that made him confused.

"Hurry, I don't have long without the soul band." She tapped her finger to her wrist then and his heart thumped as his head toyed with the idea of telling her that she could use him too. Just hold my hand, he wanted to say. I'm your soulmate so it works with me. Would it work with him? At this point, JieMi didn't know if it would not after what he had done.

He dropped to the bed, draped a blanket over his hardening bulge, thankful for its protection. He was growing more aroused by the minute, natural reactions to the one person most genetically compatible with him. His mother had made sure to remind him of that, over and over again.

I want grandkids and you can't give me any! Any children you have without her will be unhealthy, sickly. How could you give that sort of life to a baby? His heart had sunk at her words; sunk so far and so deep it disappeared into the ground and vanished into the unknown. In his mother's eyes, Amber was an angel sent from the heavens, his angel. And she wasn't wrong.

No mortal could ever touch an angel, and JieMi was a mortal, maybe even the devil.

"How do you want me?" He asked, tone soft as his eyes met hers, the lewd undertone in his words were not lost to her ears. She scrutinised him, studying his face and for a moment he wished the words would dance over his cheeks. The words he feared to say, the words he wanted to say but couldn't say.

The spark between them was undeniable. Anyone could feel it in their presence, the zing, the electricity, the fire. It was alive, screaming and begging for him to take her. And his body was starved, neglected and lost, hungry for what it needed. He wanted her so much it stung.

"Just pretend to sleep, will you?"

Easy, he was always so tired these days but sleep never came easily, so he would pretend. He nodded, closing his eyes and burrowing into the pillows, letting his inhales and exhales fall into a steady rhythm. He could feel her eyes burning into him, searing his skin and just eating him alive. The click of the camera was familiar, a welcomed change that washed over his head and took him into a place more peaceful and quieter than the one ringing in his head. The camera reminded him that this was just a job. That she was just a stranger, nothing more nothing less.

"Say, do you want to be friends?"

His eyes snapped open then, blinking at her and he was surprised to see the camera in her hands as she clicked away, taking his moment of distraction to capture his expression. "Friends?" He repeated stupidly, feeling awkward as he shifted in the bed.

Friends, mutual affection, exclusive of sexual relations, exclusive of family. His heart pricked and his lips twitched, lost and confused by his disappointment. It was a label that opened some doors for him but closed the ones he longed for the most.

The ones he couldn't have.

"It's good for us both if you stay close to me, and if we're going to be housemates, it'll be great to be friends," she answered, adjusting the lens for the best aperture. "Would probably make life a lot easier for us, wouldn't it?" It wouldn't make things any easier for him, not with how his resolve wavered every time he looked into her eyes, not with the words forming in his heart whenever he saw her smile. He wanted nothing more than to get onto his knees and confess.

The camera was old, worn and peeling. She should get a new one. He could buy her a new one. But he couldn't because it would mean things. Just as how being friends with her would mean things. And it was cruel too cruel, so, so, so cruel. And he didn't know if she would accept him if she knew about him. He wanted to run.

She pulled open the drapes and he winced as light hit him in the eyes, and he twisted his body to hide his face from the rising sun. "Don't hide from it, I want the light in your eyes." He struggled to open them for her, his eyes meeting hers, brows furrowed. "Good, that's perfect. Thanks." And she smiled, grim, patient, accepting. "I guess being friends would be awkward huh? Forget it then." No, no never. Never awkward, just—

JieMi opened his mouth in his panic to refute, but his words died away as she climbed over him, camera to her face, straddling his waist with her soft thighs. He flinched, a shiver running down his spine at the sight of her above him. And his cock wept from the graze of her cooler skin on his burning hot one, his chest aching and heavy.

He thought about the flowers then, the purple ones in the trash and wondered what would happen if he had kept them under his bed instead. He could have given it to her now. He hated how indecisive and confused he was. He hated how his head told him one thing and his heart told him another.

"I—"

"Momo!"

There was a blur of movement and then gold blossomed over her skin, soft shimmery lines that curled over her flesh; golden veins that ran over her arms and up her neck. JieMi stared as Hikaru pressed his face into her hair, raining kisses to her cheeks. He was uncaring of the situation, indifferent of how she sat on his lower belly, a camera to his face. Hikaru spoke in Japanese, a language that JieMi never had the privilege to learn, which she returned in lilting tones and words he didn't understand.

And he felt like an intruder in their perfect relationship, a bystander staring at two soulmates outlined with gold.

"Give me a minute, okay? We just need to wrap up on our homework," she said in Korean for his benefit. Her eyes sparkled and glittered when she looked at his older brother. They were warm, soft, tender, exposed and open…But when her eyes met his they became guarded and cold, aloof. So, so aloof.

"I'll hold your ankles instead," Hikaru answered and it was then when JieMi caught the look in his eyes. The wariness, the protectiveness, the concern. He believed JieMi would hurt her. He believed JieMi was untrustworthy.

And he was right. JieMi sobered at the thought, his eyes moving over their repaired soul bonds. He wasn't meant to be trusted. He averted his gaze from the eldest, feeling strangely lonely, strangely lost, strangely trapped. He wanted to cry again.

"I'm done," she chirped moving off him and his skin burned from the lack of her touch. That was quick. He felt a little exposed, the tiniest bit vulnerable; unsure of what sorts of expressions he had given her in his inner turmoil, unsure of what she had seen in her camera. "It's my turn now." Her head turned to look at Hikaru and JieMi's chest twisted and turned with envy when she leaned into his arms. Secure, safe, warm. "Is everyone awake?"

"Yes, but some of them are lazing in the bed."

"Eh, we can kick them off." She waved her hand dismissively, but the grin on her lips was fond and sweet. She turned to him then and JieMi was startled by the sudden attention from the occupants in the room. "We'll do it in my room?" She hooked the camera over her neck, just as Hikaru clasped the soul band upon her wrist. And their gaze unsettled him.

"Sure," he said, nodding as he slipped out of the bed picking the thickest pair of jeans that he had.