SAVED ☆ Bang Chan [COMPLETED]

8

The silence that follows is long and uncomfortable. Chan stares at me blankly as I look down and stare at my lap, fidgeting with my bracelet. My mind is racing; what if he tells everyone? That I go around hurting myself? What if he starts hating me? I'm already surprised that he doesn't seem to hate me at the moment, but if he turns on me ... what if -

“I won’t tell anyone,” Chan says at last, as if he’s reading my mind. “I promise.”

I look up at him in surprise. "You ... won't?"

Chan leans forward, his hands running through his hair. "Of course not," he breathes, looking tired. "I'm not that cruel."

I smile warily at that. "Thank you," I whisper.

Chan eyes me with an unreadable expression in silence again. He doesn't seem like he's judging ... but I can't tell if that's a good or bad thing.

“Can I ask you something?" He asks.

I hesitate ... but seeing the softness in his eyes, I relax slightly. I nod.

“Why do you hate yourself?”

Woah there, I think. Straight in the deep end. "I ... it's complicated. There's too much to explain."

Chan looks up at the clock above the interactive board and I follow his gaze; we’ve got an hour and a half before people start coming in.

He exhales and pushes his hair back with both of his hands. I almost smile - that seems to be his signature move. “Can I ask you another question?”

“Sure. Ask me anything and I’ll reply if I feel comfortable,” I answer, my heart throbbing as I realise he could have just asked me all the questions he wanted, but he's asking first out of politeness.

Chan nods and moves closer to me, closing the small gap between us with his chair. I catch a whiff of his sweet cologne and my insides ache at the memory of his hug yesterday. I wish I could just reach out and hug him ... but I don't think that's a good idea.

“Can I … ” Chan's voice trails off as he mumbles the end of his question and he turns his head away, his hair falling in his eyes again. I can't see the expression his face, but something in the tense set of his shoulders tells me that whatever he was about to ask, can't have been an easy question. I brace myself, heart pounding.

“Can you what?” I prompt, resisting the urge to resch out and brush his hair away from his eyes. I wonder what his hair feels like? Is it soft and slippery like silk, or does it have an edge to it like rough velvet?

He looks at me with wide eyes. “Can I look at your … your arm?”

My eyebrows shoot up in surprise and I automatically pull my sleeve over my hand protectively. A habit of many years that I know I won't be able able break out of easily, if ever.

Chan notices my movement and looks anxious as he starts waving his hands around at me.“It’s okay if you don’t want to! I don't want to make you do anything you don’t want to do,” he hurriedly explains, his flustered aura making me smile.

“No it’s okay. I’ll show you if you really want to,” I say. I can’t believe I’m doing this. I must be insane. Never in my dizziest daydream did I ever think I'd be talking about my problem with Bang Chan, let alone be showing him.

"Are you sure?" Chan asks gently, fiddling with his fingers.

I smile. "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure if you are," Chan hums. He gives me what must be a comforting smile and my gaze searches his soft features for a moment, just studying his face. We're close enough so I can see the way his nose is on the larger side and makes his whole face look painfully adorable, the way his almost faded freckles paint his under eyes and his jaw. I have to almost force my eyes away. I gently ease my sleeve up my stinging arm before I can change my mind.