Being able to call Kim Jongin my “boyfriend” is possibly the best belated birthday present he’s ever given me. Generally, his gifts in the past and the future have ranged from weird to mildly-hilarious. But giving me the opportunity to be with him in more than the “friend” sense, in the more intimate sense in which there was possibly no limit that could be reached, no wall that could block the way, was too generous of him. He was too kind with his gift. I was too undeserving of his affection.

And a part of me thinks he knew that.

A part of me thinks the entire world knew that.

“And you’re sure about all of this?”

My left hand stalled in its progress to find pajamas in the mess that was my dresser’s bottom drawer, my right hand loosely holding my handphone up to my ear – the medium by which Sara’s voice was just delivered to me all the way from Jejudo. Her family had decided to take her on an all-expense-paid summer vacation there, where she was currently lounging on the veranda of some fancy homestay whose name I can’t remember no matter how many times she attempts to sound out each and every phonetic syllable to me. Little did her family know they were merely encouraging her in her Byun Baekhyun-avoiding behavior. Now, she was trying to get across to me the very fact I already knew.

That like Taemin was to me, I was to Jongin.

I was dangerous.

Bad for him in every way. Bad for him in my context, my timing, and my feelings. A kind of bad he had expected, and yet pursued anyway.

“I don’t exactly regret it, if that’s what you’re asking.” I went back to searching through my disorganized pajama drawer, not sure which piece of clothing I liked best for tonight's higher than average, summer temperature. 

“I mean,” I heard her sigh, a sign that shows she was getting upset with me, something she did much more often than she let on, “not even a month after dumping Lee Taemin, you’re wrapped up in his cousin’s arms. You had plenty of time before you even knew who Taemin was to start dating Jongin, but you only do it now that you’re fresh out of a relationship? I don’t mean to be the critic here, but restrain yourself, okay?”

I knew what she meant, but that didn’t stop me from digging the knife deeper into her, from reopening the wound she had sewn up with the help of her new, still un-acted upon, interest in Baekhyun, from questioning her ignorantly, “Restrain myself from what, exactly?”

“Just,” I heard her begin, frustrated, frustrated from hundreds of miles away, frustrated to the point where the tense nature of her voice, her worried tone, her even more worrying words, felt like that itch at the back of my throat I just can’t scratch, “just don’t get swept up in Jongin’s pace, alright?”

The kind of itch I kept reaching to scratch anyway, no matter how bad it was.

If I had to describe my relationship with Jongin two weeks after becoming his girlfriend in one word, I’d use: impulsive.

In that sense, I knew what Sara meant.

After coming so close, after hitting the wall labeled “almost” so many times, after that wall crumbled at my simple response of, “Okay,” it was hard not to be anything but. To not let his hand wander into mine, his arms around mine, his lips so dangerously close. He didn’t want to wait any longer. I didn’t see a need to tell him to slow down.

I was bad for him.

Everyone knew it.

“Can you two not flirt right before my very eyes? It’s slightly angering to my lonely, girlfriendless soul.” Sehun commented, flicking the straw of his lidded bubble tea with his forefinger as he leaned back in his lounge chair, heaving a heavy sigh. I wasn’t all too sure what or even who he was referring to, I even checked over my shoulder to see if there was a couple sitting behind us in the waiting area of this clothing boutique, one of many that lined the street in Garosu-gil. Only when I truly did turn to find that my nose brushed by Jongin’s own did I realize he was talking about us.

Jongin and I: who were currently cuddling on the small couch that, despite being for two people, felt more like it was meant for one person and a few shopping bags. So then, it wasn’t intentional, at least on my part, that I melted into Jongin’s arm that was thrown over my shoulder, my fingers playing with his unmoving ones as he rested his other palm in my lap. And, unlike Taemin, no matter how cruel it is to make comparisons, he didn’t seem to care if anyone else was watching. He didn’t even flinch at the suggestion that others didn’t want to see such a sight.  

He had waited too long.

I had made him shameless.

“You’re not bad-looking. You’ve got a decent amount of pocket money to spend if you have to. Which makes me wonder, what else could possibly be wrong with you?” Jongin pondered out loud, much to Sehun’s distaste as the latter’s expression became expression-less and he almost stood up to give Jongin a good beating for his words – something that happened so much in their relationship that the sudden outburst only caused me to laugh.

“Tada!” Was the yell of surprise that startled both Jongin and Sehun out of their ensuing verbal argument of who was the better catch.

A yell that came from none other than Park Chanyeol, who had gone into the dressing room around two minutes ago with a pair of jeans I could tell he fell in love with at first sight. At the slightest comment to try them on from Sehun, he immediately went rushing off into the dressing room. That’s what had the three of us, Sehun, Jongin, and I, waiting on a set of couches just outside where we could hear him practically flinging his clothes off in order to get his legs in his new dream.

The very idea had me smiling from ear to ear.

A grin that remained as he proceeded to show off his dark blue, denim-covered legs. He displayed his best model walk right there in front of us, making me almost cry from pain as endless laughter left me, my stomach continuously clenching and unclenching. Not because of his silliness, but rather because of his almost instant embarrassment of his silliness as he went cowering back towards the dressing room, Sehun’s and Jongin’s whistles as he went ringing in my ears.

“I’m buying them!” He declared in a voice muffled by the dressing room’s walls.

“As long as I’m not paying for them!” Sehun yelled back, having made it known to us two hours earlier, when the entire shopping trip started, that he was only willing to spend up to twenty thousand won on any piece of fabric. And, last time I checked, those dark blue, mysterious, stoic, city boy jeans had a price containing more than four zeros.

The last time I spent that much money was on food, actual sustenance, for Sara, Chanyeol, Sehun, Jongin, and Baekhyun – you can imagine how awkward that situation was – on our last day of the Spring semester. We all ate to the point of sickness and still had room for ramen on the way home.

We were on our way out of the quaint boutique, Chanyeol’s new love draped across his forearm, when he suddenly stopped and turned, wallet in hand as he asked me, “Did you want anything?”

I was stunned by his question, even though I shouldn’t have been. Did I want anything? Was I satisfied with what I had? It seemed as though, for a moment, Chanyeol was willing to offer me more. More of anything. More of everything. Or, maybe I’m getting ahead of myself. Maybe I forgot the season. Maybe, as Jongin’s eyes landed on me in silent question of Chanyeol’s same inquiry, I needed to stop reading so much into things.

“We’ve been shopping for us this entire time,” Sehun reminded Chanyeol, directing the last of his statement, however, towards me, “there’s no way nothing caught your eye.”

“I don’t like shopping all too much. I’m more of a window admirer.” I announced to Sehun and Chanyeol, waving my hand dismissively. They nodded in agreement and turned around, making their way over to the cash register to pay for the Chanyeol’s new pair of jeans. Before Jongin could follow behind them, I pulled him aside and mumbled just loud enough for him to hear, “Besides, have you even checked the price tags of this place?”

Jongin laughed, pushing me back and wrapping me into a hug behind a rack of clothes, out of sight.

“We match so well it’s scary,” he whispered against my skin, giving me the reason behind his sudden action as well as the bear hug of the century.

I hugged him back, fitting into his arms with ease.

And he kissed me, just slightly, a bit shamelessly, completely impulsively.

I let him without a single complaint, because not a one came to mind.

I’d say it was the epitome of scary.

It started with him saying he’d walk me home a few hours later. We said goodbye to Chanyeol and Sehun and it didn’t take long for us to reach my apartment complex. It started with a few jokes being thrown as I pressed the button of my floor on the elevator. It started as soon as the doors closed, and that smile went exploding across his face as we were the only ones there, in that cramped space.

Sharing the same air. Breathing at the same rate. Experiencing a moment that belonged only to the two of us. 

Holding my fingertips in his hands, his tired, hooded eyes resting on mine, exerting a pressure on me that made me feel like an overinflated balloon, ready and willing to pop at the slightest touch, he leaned in. He kissed me for a second time today. And a third. And a fourth. A fifth as a laugh came bubbling from his throat, tickling the surface of my smiling lips before he closed the distance between us again. Sweet and sticky. Comfortable and natural. I tugged his hands further, pulled him further into me, forgetting the words we had exchanged just moments before, remembering them not on my priority list.

Just feeling him. Just being there with him. Just Jongin.

Jongin. Jongin. Jongin.

Jongin, as he swallowed my happy laughter, backing me into the button panel of the elevator, light clicks going off as a result. I watched his eyes flutter open and closed, not wanting to miss a single second. His brows relaxed and tensed. His nose which greeted mine over and over and over again breathed in and out rhythmically. With pupils dilated, blurring in and out as he dipped his head towards mine, he watched me too. It felt like a dream, being there with him like this.

And when the door dinged open on my floor, he reluctantly swayed away from me, laughing once he caught sight of all the floors whose buttons I had inadvertently pressed. He whispered something I didn’t catch as I stared on in a daze. I enveloped him in a hug in response to the words I didn’t hear, only one word coming to mind – as it always did.

Wow.

I was swept away by him, impulsivity never feeling so good.

A/N: I took a different approach to this chapter. It's also a bit short, isn't it? Did you notice? Do you know why? Hopefully, by the end of part 2, you will. But, for now, all I want to do is wish you guys a (late) Merry Christmas and an (early) Happy New Year! This is my gift to you all, so I hope you enjoyed it.