Friends I han seojun ff ft. lee suho

#047

chapter 47

All of her senses were distracted for a moment as she felt an arm encircling her shoulders. Yoon-ah knew it was Suho, as always, from his calm yet firm presence. There was a softness to his touch she hadn't expected, though there was little she could do to focus on him. To tell him that any concerns he had were unfounded, and he should leave. It was late and there was nothing to worry about.

She was fine.

Yoon-ah stumbled even as she tried to brush him away. It was as though she was intoxicated, the kind that shuts the soul down. There was nothing she could do to resist. She felt the weight of the world upon her shoulders, her eyes clouded and her mind foggy. Her words were lost in his gentle grip as he guided her inside through the grand arched doorway.

The house lights came on at her entrance and soft jazz started playing on the hidden sound system in the living room. The music echoed off the graphite gray walls of the hallway. The spacious designs were an architect's dream, yet a nightmare at the moment. The simple walk from the doorway to the living room had never taken her that long before. 

Droplets of sweat clung to the nape of her neck and tangles of black spots littered her peripheral vision. Yoon-ah leaned heavily into Suho's shoulder, despite her wishes not to do so, until he sat her down on the sofa.

As the sun dipped behind the skyline, the dining room was only illuminated by the last rays of daylight. A soft whur sounded from the kitchen, the sound of a machine dispensing some water and ice into a glass in response to a two-degree rise of the thermostat.

Suho scuttled away from her clumsily. Perhaps to give her some space, or perhaps because she had intruded on his space much too often in the past few minutes. 

Maybe he'd had enough and wished to leave. 

It had never been her intention to push herself onto him or make him uncomfortable, but she had no choice. Even now, Yoon-ah doubted that she could stand on her own without any help.

Meanwhile, Suho stepped out into the hallway, lingering just outside the doorway. There was an air of confusion about him, as if he was deliberating. What it was, however, remained a mystery. 

To her surprise, he walked over to the kitchen and picked up the glass of water from the kitchen and placed it on the table in front of her.

Yoon-ah twitched in her place, fighting to keep her frustration at bay. There was no reason for Suho to be here. Had Ha-joon come in later, without him around, the situation could have been avoided. 

The light in the living room was so much brighter than she remembered. Her temple throbbed with the beginnings of a headache. Yoon-ah raised her hand to soothe the discomfort, pressing her palms against her eyes.

From where he stood, she heard Suho make a low sound of concern.

"I'm fine," Yoon-ah said aloud, in a somewhat irate manner. There was nothing to worry about. Taking care of her didn't have to be like tending to a porcelain doll. With her home safe, he was free to go back whenever he pleased. 

Outside, flashes of light danced through the sky, accompanied by the quiet rumble of thunder. 

It is only natural to cry when one is upset. The simple act of crying is supposed to bring out all the human qualities that lie dormant within us, after all. Clouds don't hold back rain, and she shouldn't either, since it was her tears that kept her soul alive through the furnace of pain. It was impossible to erase what had been, but only to carry on until, perhaps, one day, she could forget more than she remembered. Until time allowed her to revel in the present rather than try to continually escape the dark, twisted labyrinth she had created in her mind.