The Babysitting Contract | j.jk

17 • dishes

a/n: new phone who dis

◦ ◦ ◦

Turns out, Jeongguk and I are worse at arts and crafts than the boys.

Not to anyone's surprise really, because Jeongguk seemed to think the canvas for paint was my face, and I seemed to think that my fist belonged in his gut. Which it does, I think darkly to myself as I scrub away at the paint streaks on my cheeks. A residue of the colours is left in the water's wake, marring my face with faint streaks of once-there paint.

Jeongguk had snuck away to his room for a while after receiving a notification, claiming he had work to do, and while the boys napped on the couch, I took some much needed me time. A hot shower, water by the gallon and some McDonalds I had managed to sneak in for myself had soothed some of my hangover, but the remaining remnants still had me on my guard, ready to sprint to the bathroom at a moment's notice.

I spent the rest of the morning feeling rather content. Of course I could pinpoint the reason, but it was still shocking to me to realize the physical toll Jeongguk and I's relationship had on my body. While it wasn't anywhere near it once was, the weight of something invisible I hadn't noticed had been lifted off my shoulders, making me feel lighter than I have in years.

Netflix and books were my companion into the early afternoon, but after a while I started to feel restless. With all that had happened in the span of twenty four hours, I felt the need to burn off some energy. And with our newfound friendship — or whatever it is that we're calling it — I decided to act upon it and call on Jeongguk. Though I wanted to in the first place (which was a strange and unfamiliar feeling) I also felt the urge to be the first to reach out, notably because of how hard I didn't realize he'd been trying to fix us in the first place.

And I'd been an A-class phlemwad to him.

My ego was not very entertained by this fact.

Jeongguk answered on the second knock.

"So," I started, rocking back on my heels and clutching the disk I held behind my back. "I have a dire need to beat you in something to, you know, cement the fact that I'll always be better than you, and I was thinking... Mario Kart?" I offered a small smile, holding up the game. "I mean, that is if you're down for a world of pain. I am quite the driver."

Jeongguk leaned against the door frame, huffing a mock sigh. "I don't know," he mused, eyes alight. "I quite value my life. Also, you quite literally nearly drove us into the fountain the other day ."

"Never mind that. I'll go easy on you."

"No you won't," Jeongguk grinned, snatching the game out of my hand. "So, you gonna buy me a drink before you screw me?"

"No time for pleasantries. Peach awaits her princess."

Jeongguk's scoff doesn't go unnoticed as I strut past him and make my way to the living room, the ravenette dutifully following. With the boys playing in the kitchen, we have the massive living room and flat screen to ourselves.

We sit side by side on the couch, waiting as the game loads. My leg taps restlessly on the floor, my bottled energy peaking at an all time high. Maybe it's because we're doing an activity that warrants playful banter. One that doesn't negate the fact that our newfound 'whatever' is still in it's new, raw and rocky phase, but also allows us a sense of familiarity, not akin to using words as a weapon for emotional pain. Things won't go back to the way things were in a day, but maybe this is a start.