stardust | park seonghwa ✓

19

SAN tells me Seonghwa's apartment was the one on the fourth floor, three doors down when you turn left from the elevators. He doesn't accompany me up, saying that he'll be going back to the party as he was Wooyoung's ride back home. I ask him if he could drive Yeosang back to my place and at least feel my heart a little bit at ease when he's okay with it.

So up the building I go, following San's words and find the flat he was talking about. I wait nervously by the door, knocking with slight hesitance after ringing the bell twice. Yeji still takes up the space in my mind as I stumble on to his floor. The ghost of her fingers still hike my thighs, I can still feel her breathy voice in my ears. I shiver.

I knock on the door of unit number 43, letting my eyes roam along the hall while I wait.

And I guess Seonghwa wasn't expecting me in front of his door, or a guest of that matter, when he opens up the door with a slight scowl on his face. Of course he will, it was New Year's Eve and leading up to midnight, it would be crazy for someone to come knocking at his door. Seonghwa looks as if he'd just rolled out of bed, hair disheveled, droopy eyes and it seemed as if the hoodie he wears were thrown on hastily.

When he does see me though, standing almost awkwardly in front of him, his expression turns more shocked than annoyed.

"Hyeshin!" he speaks, his voice toned with surprise. "I thought you were at the party, what are you doing here?"

"Can I come in?" I ask quietly.

Seonghwa hurries to push the door even wider to make space big enough for me to shuffle through. "Of course, of course!" he chirps.

"Sorry for the mess, I had some things due in a short time. I swear it's not like this all the time!" he apologises, leading me in and kicks a random sock out of the way. And shoves a half eaten packet of chips into a cupboard.

"Are you okay?" Seonghwa asks.

"Yeah," I force out, following closely behind him.

But the thing about Seonghwa is that he can read through me, eyes squinting past my hard exterior. He flicks on the living room lights, sighing at the clock. 10:46 pm — it shows me that I hadn't even survived half of the party and it stares down at me almost mockingly.

Lame.

"We both know you're lying," he remarks, gesturing for me to sit on his couch.

I don't reply and suppose he takes my silence as an honest answer.

Instead, I take a look around the room. It's not too wide and it's not too small either — it feels just right for a get-up-and-go-er person like Seonghwa. The lights he switched on glows a soft yellowish hue from the ceiling, giving the atmosphere a sleek and classy highlight. That, also feeling very Seonghwa. In front of his white leather couch is a small flatscreen TV that looks like it hasn't been used for a while judging by the thin layer of dust covering the screen. Despite the few leftover cups scattered on the ground, his apartment is definitely more cleaner than mine in its best appearance possible.

So I sink into the couch, my shoulders relaxing a little. It smells like him. Thoughts of Yeji slowly fades away along with my anxiousness, only the slightest. But I can still feel Seonghwa's gaze, concern burning through my skin.

"Yeah, something went wrong," he mutters, mostly to himself when I curl up in my seat.

The space next to mine dips slightly and Seonghwa scoots a little bit closer. "Tell me?" he asks softly as he caresses my hair gently. I find myself leaning into his touch, busying myself with the warm strokes of his hand when Yeji's figure comes back to me after he shoots his question.