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Can’t exactly pinpoint what it is that wakes her up. Maybe the suddenly too-loud ticking of the clock. Maybe the rain pitter-pattering against the window.
Blearily blinks her eyes open. Rubs one with the knuckle of her pointer. Exhales softly, sleep still lingering heavily on her mind. Is about to turn around, burrow herself into the blanket. Slip back into mindless oblivion.
“Ah, ah, ah, Suho-yah—yes, yes yes yes—”
She throws her blanket off, down to pool at her ankles. Violently. Sits up straight. It’s not exactly a shout, not exactly a hiss, when she exclaims, “Are you fucking kidding me?!”
Stillness. But only for a second. Suho looks at her over his shoulder. Shirt slipping down slightly. Even in the moonlight, she can see the bruise stark against the junction where throat meets shoulder.
Sieun’s legs are somewhere in the air, thrown over Suho’s shoulders. His socked feet are arched.
Yeongi wants to remove her brain and soak it in bleach.
“I can’t—I can’t fucking believe you. It’s not enough that I have to listen to you fucking on the regular, now I have to see it, too?”
Incomprehensible mumbling. Suho’s mouth isn’t moving. Must be Sieun. The little fucker.
“Louder,” and this time, it is a hiss.
“I said,” Sieun says, very pointedly, “It’s not like you’ve noticed before.”
Yeongi goes very, very still. Gets to her feet. Slowly. Almost trips as her foot gets hooked on the blanket. She’s not quite standing in front of them, but it’s enough to see. Sieun’s face. Blank. Completely uncaring. Not even the slightest bit ashamed, even with his throat and collarbone exposed, bruises blooming. Even with his legs thrown over Suho’s shoulders like a willing whore. One of his arms is hooked around Suho’s neck. The other is lying limplessly on the bed.
“The fu—what do you you mean, before?”
Suho’s very obviously trying to stifle a laugh, the way his shoulders are shaking. Sieun’s feet over them move in rhythm. She pushes against Suho’s back. Almost makes him topple over and on top of Sieun. There’s something—inhumane leaving Sieun’s mouth at the sudden movement. Something between a whimper and a groan and a mewl.
Yeongi pales. Looks at her offending hand.
She caused this.
Nevermind. She’s gonna chuck the entire bottle of bleach. Cleanse herself of this—this—this unheavenly indecence.
Even with the sound he just released, with tears prickling at the corners of his eyes, Sieun still stares at her. Unblinking.
Yeongi resigns. Goes back over to her own bed. Grabs her blanket in her fist. Defeated. The bottom of the blanket drags against the floor as she moves toward the door.
“You know what? I’m gonna sleep on the couch. Forever.”
Delighted laughter. Even an amused huff. It’s low. Controlled. But there. The grip around her blanket tightens as she thinks about throwing the door closed on their obscenity.
She doesn’t want to wake halmeoni. So she doesn’t.
The fucking nerve of those two. The audacity.