The Babysitting Contract | j.jk

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My knock is soft on his door. The papers and textbooks I balance in my free arm threaten to spill out of my hold.

Jeongguk and I had put the boys to bed twenty minutes ago. I had been planning on going to sleep as well but something inside had stopped me. Had told me I had to do better and do more. It had taken another ten minutes to collect all of my scattered notes and materials and trek my way through the desolate halls of the manor to his room.

Jeongguk answers the door a moment later, looking wide awake despite my own exhausted state.

He grimaces. "Do I have to do a plastic-detector test to see if you have a water gun on you?"

"Not tonight," I say. "Tonight I come in peace."

"Really?"

"No. Unfortunately I come bearing more flashcards."

"The horror."

He remains positioned blocking entrance. His arm is still gripping the door while the other maintains purchase on the doorframe.

"So," I quip, shifting the load in my arms. "Are you just going stare at the bags under my eyes or are you going to let me in?"

He blinks. "I..."

"That's what I thought," I muse, pushing forward. "I have no bags under my eyes."

Jeongguk scoffs. He steps back and allows me to enter his bedroom.

While I used to know his room like the back of my hand, I feel like I've stepped into a completely different space. The king-sized bed is now pushed against the right wall as opposed to the left. His overflowing desk now is now framed by the window and the gaming table is new. It and the TV face the leather couch that cleaves the room, yet they both still face the bed.

Above all, I notice his super hero and celebrity model posters have been replaced by his own pictures, sketches, and paintings. His walls are littered with pieces of art of his own creation, painting a sea of what Jeongguk sees, what he finds beautiful, what he finds inspiring.

The boy himself suddenly skirts past me, snatching up littered laundry and trying to make sense of the already decently neat room. Neat, save for his desk. He seems almost embarrassed by the state, but I know for a fact I still havent fully organized my own temporary one since Sejun went through my suitcase the first day I'd met him.

"Sorry," he says, scratching the nape of his neck. Something catches his gaze and he lurches forward. He chucks a pink thong behind his head. "I really didn't expect you to, you know, be in here."

"Neither did I." I swallow, gesturing towards the couch. "May I?"

"I— yeah. Go ahead."

I sink into the cushions. My limbs are still stiff and my back is drawn straight like an arrow. I still feel awkward. This evening the boys had provided a third party to distract from the underlying tension between us, but now that it's just him and I, and god do I miss their antics.

I still don't know what him and I are.

Friends. We're... friends.

Or something along the lines of that.

I feel the couch sink next to me as Jeongguk hesitantly settles in a respectable distance away. I toss him what I hope to be a smile before searching the pages in my lap.

His figure remains in the corner of my eye. I watch as he tries crossing his legs. Leans back in the couch with his arms crossed. Props an elbow on his knee. Smooths his hair back frantically. I feel slightly better that he also doesn't know how to act around me.