Stray Gods (SLOW UPDATES BUT NOT ABANDONED)

Chapter 4

Although he had been wary and a bit sceptical at first, Minho had become close to you, like all of the others. He was your friend. Your Oppa. Nothing more.

But how come you've only now noticed how hot he actually was? It couldn't've been just him taking off his shirt. You'd seen him shirtless many times.

What was wrong with you?

You wanted to slap yourself in the face as you stared at the ceiling or your bedroom.

You were lying on your bed

Grabbing a pillow you pressed it against your chest tightly.

The memory of your face inching closer to his replayed in your mind.

You had closed your eyes... Expecting him to...

You pressed the pillow against your mouth and screamed.

Had you gone insane?

What the hell was wrong with you?

'Y/n?' There was a knock on the door and Chan's voice sounded concerned.

You let out a loud groan.

The door opened.

'What?' you asked annoyed. The sound of your voice was muffled by the pillow.

'Everything... alright?' Chan asked kindly. You still didn't look at him and kept the pillow on your face.

'Perfect,' you growled into the pillow. Chan was silent for a while.

'Alright then,' he said, giving in when he realized you weren't going to. 'Anyway, I brought you a clean shirt. I'll put it on your desk okay?' He said.

You didn't react but you heard him moving around in your room.

He stopped again for a moment.

'Well... If there's anything you need...' Chan said, not finishing his sentence. He paused once more but you stayed still. It was only when he closed the door again behind him and you heard his footsteps trail away that you sat up on your bed.

Chan didn't deserve to be treated by you like that. But you just felt so frustrated. You were angry with yourself for acting the way you had and feeling the things you did. And you felt embarrassed. More embarrassed than you had ever felt before in your life.

You walked over to your desk and looked at the hoodie he had placed there. It was your favourite one, the one you stole from him all the time. At that moment you wished you could at least thank him. But you couldn't. Not right now.

You took off the stinky shirt and threw it on the pile of clothes on the chair that was still there. You wouldn't be doing any laundry today.

You pulled the hoodie over your head and the sleeves pooled around your arms and down your hands. Of course, it was far, far too big.

It was indeed clean and you could smell the fabric softener. Maybe it would've been of more comfort to you if it had smelled like Chan instead.

You went to sit behind your desk and opened the book that you had to read for your studies.

At this point, you'd do anything, ANYTHING to forget what had just happened. You had no idea how to face Minho ever again.