"And sometimes I have kept my feelings to myself because I could find no language to describe them in." Jane Austen—
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My alarm is ringing, bothersome and so very irritating. I'm surrounded by coziness, and tranquility is the only emotion I currently know. There is this peace within me that the blaring noise my phone makes is trying to take away, but I'll hold on to it as long as I possibly can.
I'm hugging something, I realize. Something warm. It smells like chocolate with hints of my own mint scent, one that I'm aware I have and take with me all the time. But this sweet odor seems familiar and it's not mine, I just can't figure out what it belongs to. Nevertheless, I love the pleasant feeling it gives, the way it enters my nostrils to spread warmth all over my being.
I nuzzle my head closer, brain still foggy with a thin layer of sleep. That clouds any reasoning that might give me a hint to where I may be and why is it that I feel so calm and at home.
It's okay, for now, I don't pay any mind to my whereabouts.
I hug whatever is next to me tighter, pull it closer to me. The sound of the alarm is still present somewhere in the back of my mind, but maybe I'm just dreaming about it, maybe it really isn't blaring like I think.
Something moves next to me. The warmth is trying to get away. I don't let it. It groans.
Wait, groans?
"Min, lemme turn that phone off."
Oh.
I practically tear my eyes open and push myself out of Jisung's space.
Without enough time to actually think about the bed and its inevitable ending, I crawl as far away as my numb legs can take me. I end up on the floor, having hit my head on the nightstand first thing in the morning. I rub where the pain erupts from to somehow soothe it, but it isn't working very well.
When I look up, Jisung's eyes are on me, filled with worry. There isn't much light coming inside the room, the sun still isn't up to cast its light on the surface of our world and I'm pondering if that's a good thing or not, given that thanks to it Jisung probably isn't able to perceive the red color that paints my face in the characteristic shades of embarrassment. At the same time, it makes it impossible for me to know if the glint in his eyes is there to mock me or care about my wellbeing.
Jisung extends his arm for me to grab onto, as an invite to my own bed. I'm humiliated enough, so I don't take it, standing up on my own and dusting whatever dirt might have stayed on my pants with my hands, straightening the fabric. My head hangs low. I can't look Jisung in the eye without collapsing.
The alarm isn't blaring anymore. I don't know what to mutter, what snarky comment I should make, how I'm supposed to break this deafening silence that makes me want to cry.
