my last pages 》 nomin

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Jaemin should have been less surprised to see Jeno in his house the second time it happened, yet his heart still dropped at the sight of the boy's famous eye smile.

"Hey, Jaem! I can call you that, right?" Jeno asked cheerily, throwing a sleepy Jaemin off guard.

"Sure?" He stuttered, glancing around the room for his mother to rescue him. The woman was nowhere in sight, probably pulling another all-nighter at work.

"So, how was your algebra test?" Jeno questioned him casually as if he was an old friend. Jaemin raised an eyebrow at the question suspiciously.

"How'd you know I had that today?"

He threw his book bag at the foot of the stairs, praying quietly the school's laptop didn't crack inside and went to the kitchen. If the boy wasn't going to leave, he might as well adapt to his (welcomed) annoying presence. Jeno followed him hesitantly, sitting at the bar on the spinny black stools. Jaemin handed him a glass of apple cider, getting one for himself as well.

"Uh, well," Jeno circled the rim of the cup with his finger. "I heard you talking to your mom about it, but she didn't really seem to care. Did it go good?"

Okay, now Jaemin couldn't blame his hearts nervous ticking on surprise.

"Oh, I didn't think anyone was listening." He took a drink to avoid dealing with the awkward silence. "It went okay, I guess. Circles still kick my ass."

Jeno giggled softly at him, glancing up to meet his eyes through his black bangs. Jaemin's checks flushed considerably, and he chugged the rest of his cider in one go.

"Well, I'm gonna go do homework. I'd tell you to make yourself at home but..." Jaemin pointed at the empty chip bags in the living room and the blanket thrown across the couch.

"Sorry about that," Jeno mumbled.

Jaemin didn't bother replying. He picked up his way-too-heavy bookbag and took the stairs two at a time. He didn't actually have homework to do unless his teachers decided to grade his diary.

"Hey, um, Jaemin?" Jeno called up the stairs right when Jaemin's hand touched his cool brass doorknob. The winter was approaching relentlessly, and even his furniture could feel it.

"Yes?" He sighed.

"Can I come up with you?"

Jaemin turned around and almost cooed at Jeno's puppy dog eyes. The boy was a manipulative person, that was for sure. On a normal day, Jaemin would have said no instantly, slamming his door in Jeno's face, but it was not a normal day. Jeno's attention to him had melted his heart a bit, although he'd never admit it, and he reluctantly nodded. Jeno smiled that damn eye smile, and practically hopped up the stairs and into Jaemin's room.

"Glad you're having fun," Jaemin mumbled, rolling his eyes at Jeno who had cuddled into his plushie covered bed. His hand rested inches away from his precious diary, fingers threatening to feel the worn pages, and it was still open to his Jeno entry from the day before. Jaemin snatched the book, much to Jeno's sneaky dismay, and sat in his desk chair. He hardly ever used his desk. It was covered in dust and random clothes, but he needed somewhere to put his thoughts that wasn't his skin, and journaling proved effective in controlling his suicidal habits.

"Can you hand me that pen?" He asked the half-awake Jeno, who threw it to him. Well, he attempted too. In reality, it bounced off the wall behind Jaemin and into his trashcan. He retrieved his precious pen, brushing the crumbs off of it.

"Good throw." He told Jeno, whose eyes had fluttered shut.

"Was it?"

Jaemin was being sarcastic, but Jeno's droopy eyes boring into his own made his previous irritation dissipate. He smiled softly, the first genuine smile Jeno had ever seen on him.

"The best."

I want to hold his hands
And strangle him at the same time.

I want to kiss his lips
And glue his mouth shut at the same time.

I want to hug him
And wrap him in a straitjacket at the same time.

I was infatuated with him
And I hated him.

I am Na Jaemin
And I like being alone.

So why do I desperately wish to invite him into the deepest confines of my mind?

Why do I want him to see me in all my fucked-up glory as if he could fix me?

Why is he more dangerous than the blades I store?

It's because he is hope.

Hope will never like my darkness.