Haunted House | a jaehyungparkian story

Chapter 3: in which both Jae and Brian try to act cool but ultimately fail

It took Brian another hour to reach the dorm. By then, he was gasping for air. Not just because he ran whenever the situation allowed him to, but also because the closer he got to Jae, the more difficult it became to breathe like a normal human being.

But he didn't let himself hesitate for even a second. He pulled out the dorm key from his pocket, steadying his fingers so they wouldn't shake.

He unlocked the door and let it swing open.

"Jae—" he began, then stopped.

The main room was empty.

Okay, Brian told himself. Jae is probably in our room or in the bathroom or something. Calm down.

After a moment of consideration, he decided to check the room first. He tried to be as quiet as possible, not wanting to surprise Jae and risk another accident. He even closed the door very, very slowly. Glancing at the clock on the wall, Brian saw that there were still four hours until Dowoon came home with Sungjin and Wonpil.

Tick tock. Tick tock.

The dorm was so quiet. So unusually quiet. Living in a room with four other boys was not easy and was definitely not the most peaceful way of living. On a normal day he would have appreciated the lack of sound, but now it only made him feel even more nervous.

As he walked, his eyes roamed the main room. The television was turned off, the floor was clear of any random clothes (Sungjin would always nag at them whenever the room was a mess), and a pair of Dowoon's drumsticks could be seen on the dining table. He continued looking at random and various objects until his eyes landed on something that caused his heart to drop to his stomach.

He was a few meters away from it, but he could see it clearly.

On the black sofa in front of the television, there lay a certain square-shaped object. It was small. Small enough to put in his pocket. He didn't even need to take a closer look to know what it was, because he already spent hours looking at it, at that certain picture.

It was the photo of him kissing Jae in the haunted house. And he had no idea what it was doing on the sofa.

Brian's hand automatically made its way to the front left pocket of his jeans. Then to the right pocket. The photo wasn't there. How? How did it find its way to the sofa? Did it slip out of his pocket when he wrote the note to Jae that morning? Did he accidentally drop it?

Whatever the reason was, he needed to grab and hide it as quickly as he could. He took long strides towards the photo, his hands shaking, heart banging against his chest. He could only hope that Jae hadn't seen it yet—

"Brian?"

He froze.

Shit.

Jae was standing in the doorway of their room, hair messy and glasses nowhere to be seen, wearing a simple white t-shirt and shorts that just reached his knees.

Their eyes connected, and Brian wondered if he looked just as horrified as Jae.

"I thought you wouldn't be home for a few more hours," Jae continued, voice shaking.

Oh, now Jae was talking to him.

Shit shit shit.

Brian cleared his throat. "I—" He hoped he didn't look guilty as he moved a little bit to the left, trying to block the photo from his friend's view. "I, er, thought I'd go home a little earlier. I'm feeling a little sleepy."

"Y-yeah."

"Why don't you get some sleep first? You were the one that got knocked out last night."