escort | njm

twenty-five.

The early morning sunlight, soft and diffuse, gives way to the first strong rays of the day, the ones that bring true warmth. It was golden hour then, the gentle cast of the sunset painting everything it could reach a stunning orange. The sky was a perfect harmony of red, pink and yellow; the colors vibrant and almost whimsical, like a canvas meticulously finessed by a world-class artist. He's fully aware he wouldn't be catching up on the sleep he has missed out on any sooner.

Jaemin's staring at her with droopy eyes with a tear escaping the side of his eye, he knows that he has love for her, but he's not in-love with her. He could be, though, and that's something that intrigues him. If Areum would just look into his eyes a little differently and let him see past the shades of her iris', he knows that he could fall in-love. Seeing her curled under his touch with the sheets covering them in front of him, now, with nothing on but a pair of panties and his t-shirt, it makes him wonder.

She loves the smell of his shirt, a cedar wood smell, it allows her to feel a tad bit closer to him, allows her to think that she knows everything about him and even the cologne he uses. The things he likes. The way his clothes would always go over her knees, always riding up her thigh whenever she sleeps.

To him, she's just another contact in his phone book. To her, he's just a company that she's very fond of or perhaps has very undeniable feelings for him. That's what he has convinced himself that it'll stay that way, at-least, for a short while. Maybe they were both raised the same way; taught to not put themselves in risky situations unless it'll bring them success and fortune, maybe that's how any other financially struggling university student thinks of. Emotions are messy and complicated, and feelings of heartbreak aren't worth the trouble. They say sex and escortingis fun, but falling in-love isn't. One goes from occasionally thinking about a person, to becoming a vessel for their entire existence. He shall no longer put herself first over himself and that can be a dangerous thing.

After sex or hisnescprting ritual, he can just get up and leave like it isn't his business to bother. But, when he's ever in-love, it stays with him no matter how far he runs and he can't just get up and escape like it isn't his business to care about, he knows deep down in the empty crevices of his heart that he'll care for her, stay for her and treat her as if she was his world, giving her everything she needs or everything he could possibly give in his reach.

And when Jaemin stares at her rudolph nose with the orange light chiseling through the thin white fabric hanging by her windows, it hits him hard. If there were any jobs he wanted to do right now asides his escorting services, it'd be a novelist. He's clear of exactly what he wants, how he wants the plot to go and he would picture a happy ending for his novel, teenagers entering adulthood and falling in love, it'd sound cliche but that's exactly how he wants his love life to unfold.

Maybe the plot he has in his mind goes along the lines of something like this,

The male and female leads are best-friends falling in love with each other, and they don't know about it, don't know the exact word to describe the feeling they had for each other, because they had never felt this way for any other person. Male lead wrote songs, love songs to be exact, of the female lead. When the male lead comes over for the night and wants something none other than cuddling the female lead to sleep, wants something none other than the male lead tk snuggle his head into the crook and crevices of the females lead neck where the time pauses forever, where it's just the two of them. And then it's just like when Thanos could snap his finger while wearing the gauntlet and everyone would disappear and leave just the two confused adults alone to figure their relationship and emotions all to themselves.

In conclusion, he just wants a happy ending of his story.

He's staring at her cluelessly, with her in his t-shirt and undergarments that he managed to get her to shimmer her way out of the gown when he realised it looked uncomfortable, too uncomfortable to his liking. Jaemin doesn't know he should feel about this, afterall he was an adult, was he supposed to feel a sudden wave of arousal or was he supposed to feel something else? Was he supposed to feel a way that all he was obliged to do was to protect her from everything?

There's only a sigh leaving his dry lips, thoughts clouding his already hazy mind, probably from all the alcohol he took in earlier. The bright orange light chiselled onto her facial features and that's only when he realised exactly the beauty standard she held, she looked like the girl in his dreams. The female Jaemin ever so often dreamt of throughout his on and off nights of sleeping, the female who had always been there for him regardless the situation. The girl who always lent him her shoulder whenever he was tired or when he just needed a shoulder to lean on. The girl of his dreams, and that's his best-friend, and that's the only way he would think of her or so he convinced himself.

Gingerly, he runs the pad of his thumb over the not so obvious scar on the left side of her rosy cheek, a breath of condensation leaving him. The morning sunlight illuminating her perfect shade of dark oak strands of hair covering half her face, sweeping it to the side where her full face was now in sight. Subconsciously, Jaemin's fingers find refuge in her hair, in gentle brown hues, that childhood dreams of night and day are made from. His smile was an offered cup to hold-safe childish emotions whatever they may be. In his eyes was warmth, even a sparkle in their loving caramel brown shade. As such he was the perfect companion, the perfect hand to hold, perfect man to stay with.

The bed sheets shuffle, her arms gradually stretched out, his arms stayed there motionless with his eyes shut tight. Jaemin's breathing pace was uneven yet normal in a way, the soft snores he managed to fake with his lips slightly apart. Then, he felt her warm fingers doing the same like he did with hers earlier, it struck him when he realises he still has his fingers buried in hers too.

Jaemin wishes right there at that moment, he could open his eyes and stare right at her soul, with so much emotions coursing through their body but no way was he going to get caught for staring at her when she's asleep. He feels Areum's thumb running over his eye bags, and then his eyebrows, how he loved that feeling of getting caressed by her.

The soft wind embraced them within the room and he could feel strands of his hair gently waving in the air, when she slicked it back with her fingers combing through them. He could feel her breaths of condensation against his skin, warming the crook of his neck up, the body warmth radiating off her just like the sun.

The pieces of her heart that had been struggling to fit into this world became so quiet when she's in his embrace and tucked into the crook of his neck; it was as if they had found peace, as if they needed his glue to bridge the gaps and connect all the puzzle pieces together for it to stay like that forever. She just felt so accomplished in his warm embrace when she's hearing his steady breathing pace when he's asleep, or so she assumes he is.

Jaemin was already so close to drifting off to wonderland when the motion of her rubbing his eyebrows stops and he's so tempted to open his eyes but he wouldn't obviously, supposedly because he lacked the guts to do so. His ears perked up at the sudden booming voice of god knows who it belongs to, dragging him back to reality from his land of pink fluffy clouds and a unicorn with golden sparkly horns swimming in a pool of eight shots of espresso and ices.

"Good morning Areum, I brought your favourite bage— What the fuck is he doing here."