The House on Mass. Avenue | Rensung

Untitled Part 15

The phone had been ringing all day and it was starting to get on Jisung's nerves.

Settled between his middle and index finger, Jisung fiddled his pen back and forth so that it hit his hand. He was curled up on the couch which he had come to like the best for sitting down and writing in. He also had a partial liking for the knit blanket that usually rest on the back of the couch, he liked the smell -- as strange as that sounded.

It was a mix of pinks and blues and greens, all light in color with a base of an off-white, tan. Jisung tucked the blanket under his arms and pulled his legs up so that he could rest his notebook down on them. He was just taking the day to brain storm, but it was hard to do so with the shrill cry of the phones poking into his ears every five minutes.

"You know, I made that blanket," a soft voice said from Jisung's right and he jolted in surprise, turning to look at Jaemin who had been sitting in one of the armchairs. The two had been spending the late afternoon together, enjoying the company of the other as they did their respective things - Jisung for writing and Jaemin for reading.

"You made this?" Jisung said in surprise, not expecting the other to have made it. It had seemed so old, as if it had been passed down generation after generation until it made it's way to the living room of the beach house.

Jaemin shut the leather bound book he was holding, the title too worn out to discern which novel it was, or if it was even a novel at all. "Yep, I made it...let's say five years ago? I think? I don't know it's been a while, but I made it with an older friend of mine."

"Wow, this is really pretty," Jisung complimented, fiddling with some of the yarn strings. "I-" Jisung went to continue but his words were cut off with another sharp brrng of the phone. The two collectively rolled their eyes and let out harsh sighs.

Jaemin stuck the book next to one of the chair's arms and stood up, muttering viciously as he crossed the room to the old looking phone hanging on the wall. It had a large number dial in the middle that you had to spin to dial the phone, the actually device hanging on the side like in one of those old movies.

However, Jisung wasn't really focusing on the look of the phone, but rather the fact that Jaemin's hand was reaching towards the phone hanging upon it's rest.

Rule #8: Never answer the house phone

"Jae-" Jisung started in a panic, his breath catching in his throat as he sat up, Jaemin's fingers curling around the slim build of the phone and lifting it off of the receiver. He pulled the phone up to the side of his face and turned to lean his shoulder against the wall, his eyes turning to look at Jisung.

"I'm sorry, we don't have any more rooms. Please don't call again." Jaemin's words were thick and had a tone of boredom about them. Then with a grand gesture, Jaemin carefully placed the phone back on the receiver and turned to face Jisung. "Well, that should do it."

Jisung's jaw dropped to the floor.

He had done it. He had really done it.

Jaemin had just broken one of the house rules.

"Pick your jaw up off the ground Jisung and follow me," Jaemin lifted his index finger up and beckoned Jisung to stand up and walk over to where he was standing. Jisung, coming to the conclusion that time was probably of the essence, flung the blanket off of his body, his pen and notebook tumbling to the floor.

He rushed over, looking around wildly at the quiet house. What was going to happen? What would happen to Jaemin now that he broke one of the rues? These questions of concern flew through Jisung's head, but they also coupled with questions of curiosity and eagerness. He was finally going to find out what happened when you broke one of the rules.