"There is immeasurably more left inside than what comes out in words." Fyodor Dostoevsky—
Hoppla! Dieses Bild entspricht nicht unseren inhaltlichen Richtlinien. Um mit dem Veröffentlichen fortfahren zu können, entferne es bitte oder lade ein anderes Bild hoch.
Jisung's parents are nice. They ask about anything and everything, want to know more about me.
What do you wanna work as?
I haven't thought about it yet, probably something science related.
What's your favorite color?
I haven't had time to think about that either. Mint is nice, and purple, too.
And your favorite animal?
Definitely cats.
How did Sunggie and you meet? Our boy says he doesn't remember.
I also don't remember much, but it was raining. He was crying.
Jisung saw me get stiff at the question. He sensed, or rather felt it. My muscles tensing must have given me away. He had a part of his body touching mine at all times.
"Mom, dad, I think we'll call it a day. We have school tomorrow."
My savior. His parents nod with little smiles, they wish us good night and kiss Jisung's cheeks when he leans down to give them better access. He takes my hand in his once more and leads me to his bedroom.
When we enter, Jisung doesn't turn the light on, instead, he reaches for a loose wire and presses a little button. Fairy lights hang all through the walls and ceiling, webing. They cast dim lighting through the room, gives it a cozy atmosphere that welcomes me with warmth.
"Wanna take a shower?" Heat rises to my cheeks and I abruptly stop my admiring to stare at him with wide eyes. Jisung laughs. "Not together! I meant you, just you!" His chuckles echo through the room, make my heart beat faster.
I could use that shower.
With a slow nod, Jisung understands my decision. He takes a big red sweater and black sweatpants from his dresser, then realizes he has no unused underwear to lend me. I tell him that that's no problem, that I'll just text Felix to bring me some. Our house is just five minutes away, anyway.
There's a knock on the door that gets our attention. Jisung opens to a pack of new boxers on the floor. A note from his father explains how he always has new underwear at the guests room, just in case.
I grab my stuff and head to the bathroom of his bedroom, a little bit embarrassed.
The boiling hot water washes away yesterday's sorrows and today's hardships. I'd love to stay here for hours on end, but my brain unhelpfully reminds me that this is Jisung's home, not my own, and that he probably wants a shower, too.
