Right?

*

JieMi

The door was thin.

And there was nothing JieMi could do about it. He had pulled on a pair of headphones, the best in the market for noise-cancellation and turned the music on as loud as it could go. But his heart had pounded in his chest, echoing in a steady beat to the one in his cock. He'd watched, nibbling on his lips, as his cock hardened and tented in his sweats, more honest than he was.

It was natural, only logical, for JieMi to drop the headphones. To listen to her cries and rub himself to completion. To imagine what it would be like to take their place, to take MinJae's place. To thrust into her wet folds, to hold her close, to be privileged enough to hold her close.

If he could turn back the clock with the knowledge of her in his life, he would do it in a heartbeat.

He'd pulled his shirt up, bitten the hem to keep it from falling and fisted his hardened cock, dragging his thumb over the beads of pre-cum that spilt from the head. He'd stared at his cock then and remembered that she'd once been in his body, that she'd once seen him in his entirety.

And his body had felt strangely hot, his cock twitching at the memory.

He came so hard that he drew blood from his bitten lips. He came so hard that his body jerked, slamming against his things. Books, pens, keyboard. They spilt all over the floor and he'd cursed as he tried to pick them all up with dripping, sticky fingers. And then cursed again because he shouldn't have touched his things with semen on his hands.

His best friends were angry at him. They were. Because they didn't understand, they didn't know. They didn't understand how JieMi felt. They didn't understand how JieMi struggled. Nobody did. Nobody could know. Nobody understood how he felt—

"JieMi!" Ha-Eun interrupted his thoughts and his body grew cold, so, so damn fucking cold.

His eyes wandered to hers and her fingers laced with his own, tightening over them, a loop to his neck. Years ago, she was someone he loved, someone he would lay down his life for. And he'd fallen so deeply in love with her, blinded from the crimson red flags that stood in his face, blinded from the monstrosity within. Ha-Eun had been his pillar in his unwavering storm, his bundle of sunshine. She had soothed his tears when the media was unkind, helped him go through bad scandals and bad deals.

She'd been a breath of fresh air, the only person he could cling to and forget.

And he'd believed her words. He'd believed every little thing she said.

It was all lies. The way she smiled, the words she said, the fake title she'd placed over their name. Lovers, boyfriend and girlfriend, a couple. It was just a spread of sweet dollops of honey over moulding bread. She'd pledged herself to him, begged him to stay, whispered words that poisoned his heart. But the closer he got, the uglier she became.

And perhaps he should have known when he first caught glimpses of the monster from within, perhaps he should have run when he still could. But he didn't, he let his heart drop into the darkness, he let himself be chained. For every time she made her mistakes, he told himself that maybe she was just a fallen angel, that maybe she would change. And he hoped for an act of redemption, for something to prove her love to him. But it never came and she never gave back the words he always said.

And now those words seemed like a chain, his jail cell, his pain.

"It's so cute." She smiled, twirling her hair to reveal the rainbow clips that lined her hair; a new fashion trend. "The clips? I got them from the cutest shop! And that's where I got these for you too." Ha-Eun reached into her bag and he peered at the jewellery within. Something he didn't exactly want. It was too gaudy, too flashy, not exactly his thing. But it was the thought that counted, and JieMi was surprised at the gift.

And his courage, his conviction, they were washed away by the smile that dripped from her lips, by her kiss on his cheek. He couldn't say anything to her, not with the memory of her past self in his head, not with his love for her. Not with how much her smile reminded him of the sacrifices that she'd made for him.

Ha-Eun had once shielded him, stood in front of his quivering body against a shitty host in a crappy reality show that wanted nothing more than to show him his place. JieMi was thankful for what she'd done for him, and he'd promised himself that he would show her the same kindness, repay her with sweetness and love. Plus, he didn't want their relationship to end, not with all the loose ends, not with all the problems, not with how much JieMi clung to her, dependent and needy.

Not with how dark his world was these days.

He knew how easily her tears would come if he said what he had to say. She would be devastated, and he'd seen that on her 21st birthday and her 22nd birthday. He'd seen how she'd break, how she'd screamed and threatened. How destructive she could be when things didn't go her way.

"I'LL KILL MYSELF IF YOU STEP OUT OF THIS ROOM, WANG JIEMI!"

It was then when all his mistakes began.

JieMi nodded to her, holding her bag when she dropped it in his hands and he toppled just a little from the weight of it all. He felt weak then, small. Lost. He didn't know what those feelings were. And he didn't understand them.

"You're like a wall. Sometimes, you don't talk to me at all! It's like I'm talking to myself!" She complained, rolling her eyes. "You whisper and nod like a stick. Talk to me." And he was stung by her words, burned and attacked. Suddenly it seemed like it was all his fault that he was so unresponsive, that he didn't shower her with love. It was his fault for being aloof, remote, indifferent, distant. Cold.

He felt so cold.

And maybe it was his fault.

His fault that his head was filled with his grudges, his memories of her mistakes. She'd fucked up once, twice, three times. He was pretty sure that it was her fault, her fault that the information had been leaked, her fault that they were stuck together like this. But she'd only screamed at him, called him names that made him feel as if it were his fault. And was it?

He couldn't quite remember what had happened. Over time the memories grew blurry, mixing, changing. Maybe, it was his fault. He wasn't sure anymore. She'd begged him to scream at her when she'd fucked up the first time, and he couldn't then. Not with how much she cried, not with how disappointed he was with her. But when she fucked up twice and he brought the past up, asked why she hadn't changed, asked why she hadn't kept her promises. She lashed out at him, angry and unforgiving.

"YOU'RE SO FUCKING TOXIC FOR HOLDING GRUDGES ON ME! WHY CAN'T YOU FORGIVE AND FORGET?"

Why couldn't he? And now maybe it was his weakness. His fault.

"Sorry, I love you," he responded quickly, hastily and she nodded, satisfied. And he was confused at himself, his anger dissipating with her standing before him. It was easy to dissociate the angry Ha-Eun and the nice Ha-Eun. But it was odd, odd that he could dissociate. Odd that he was coming back to her even after everything. Not that he had a choice in the matter, not with his mistakes in her.

"Good, then stay with me this weekend? I don't like it when you're in the dormitory." She made a face, scrunching her nose and pulling her lips into a pout. "It's bad enough that you have work on weekdays." She scowled and only grew uglier. He wondered when her face had seemed so ugly to him, so normal, so…Hideous. "I don't like you spending time with others, spend them with me, your family." She emphasized on the last bit and it made his heart sting.

She was right. He should be realistic, he should be kind. She was the one suffering so much right now after all. Ha-Eun needed him.

"I'll have to talk to my company, they don't like how distant I've become with my brothers," JieMi answered and she glared. The face scared him and he stumbled back, worried that he'd said the wrong words. Afraid that he had spoken too much. "But I can talk to them, and I'll try to fit it all in my schedule."

"Oh, you don't have to. Just do what is best for you, okay?" she replied sweetly, but her response was anything but sweet. He knew she was angry, her words laced with knives and poison. "You have to take care of your health too." And his resolve crumbled at her last words.

Maybe he was the one at fault, maybe he was the one broken. She was always so kind to him, always so loving. He should be responsible. And humans made mistakes, she was human, so her outbursts could be forgiven.

Right?