between lines
@adxyong
she’s been told recounting how a dream begins is an impossible endeavor; in medias res, per say, now when referring to the nature of remembering the previous night. a dreamless, cautious girl, it takes seconds to gather fragments of a drunken memory, making vain attempt to puzzle together what little pieces make sense: the clink of soju bottles, midnight sonatas, slurred pleasure and unforeseen intimacy. and then...what else? trapped in the state of thinking whilst not comprehending nor cohering, her mind remains untenanted of logic with its still-current occupants of alcohol and whatever else of a vice she’s been intoxicated with just hours prior.
a cold hand shifts against a warm chest, and she would nestle closer to the pleasant heat of the body beside her own if the realization doesn’t dawn so heavily, so unexpectedly. feminine eyes pry open, peering through dark lashes and the discomfort of poor eyesight. the bed at once feels too hot for an otherwise breezy room, and -- shit, one movement and she knows she’s bare down to the bone. a dried up, wrinkled contact lens clings to her cheek as she leans toward her bedwarmer, squinting, trying to gain visual clarity of this blurry faced man. her nose brushes against what she assumes to be his neck as she fights the impulse to feel the features of his face beneath her fingertips, instead straining her eyesight further another degree to at least acquire some kind of recognition, an identity to a shape. would this be her colleague? a flirtation from the downtown bar? tousles of dark hair intermix with her own, and she begins to notice evident handsomeness in his face--
taejun. the name arrives like a bullet train, a fucking fast one, and his presence begins to fill the empty voids of which had clogged up her memory. perhaps she should be relieved, now with the knowledge that she hadn’t done the dirty deed with a creepy, more sinister individual, but instead reassurance is replaced with dread; the onset of a chaotic morning is inevitable and completely undesired. “taejun, you brilliant man,” she drawls, meaning much of the opposite, uncaring whether he’s just as much aware as she, “tell me you know why i--” a hand immediately retracts and pulls the blankets to reveal his equally nude body, “and you are naked in the same damn bed together.”