Chapter 125
Ohm
The worst part was that I actually considered leaving.
Like I stood there in his doorway, keys still in my hand, body half turned already, and for a second it felt easier to just say goodnight and walk away like this was nothing, like he was nothing, like I didn’t just carry him upstairs because his legs wouldn’t stop shaking.
Sunoo stared at me, head tilted, waiting.
"You coming in or what?" he said again, softer this time.
I let out a breath and rubbed the back of my neck. "You should sleep."
"Oh my god," he blinked, then let out this short laugh like I just said the dumbest thing alive, "you drag me all the way up here, manhandle me in front of my neighbors, and now you want to act like a gentleman at the door?"
"I didn’t say that."
"Then what are you saying?" he stepped back a little, giving me space like he was daring me to leave, "because if you’re leaving just say it, don’t stand there looking confused like you lost your brain somewhere in my apartment hallway."
I tightened my grip on my keys. "You’re tired. I don’t need to stay."
"Then why bring me home like that?"
There it was.
His voice wasn’t loud, but it hit harder than anything he said all night.
I frowned. "Because you couldn’t walk."
"So what," he shot back instantly, "you felt bad after using me and now you want to drop me off like food delivery?"
"That’s not what happened."
"Isn’t it?" he crossed his arms, winced a little, then ignored it and kept going, "you got what you wanted, right? You feel better now? Less heartbroken, less obsessed with Ye Jun?"
"Stop."
"No, say it," he pushed, eyes sharp now, not playful anymore, "say I’m wrong."
I stepped forward before I even thought about it. "You’re wrong."
"Then why are you leaving?"
"I’m not," I snapped, then paused, because yeah, I literally was.
Sunoo let out a dry laugh. "Wow. Convincing."
"Sunoo..."
"No, it’s fine," he waved a hand like he didn’t care, but his mouth tightened, "I said I don’t mind, remember? I told you I’d be your distraction, your little stress relief, your..."
"Shut up."
The words came out sharper than I meant, and he froze for a second.
I ran a hand through my hair. "You talk too much."
"Yeah, I noticed you only like me when I’m not talking."
"That’s not..."
"Or when I’m under you, right?" he cut in, voice lighter again but not really, "that version works better for you."
Something in my chest twisted.
I stepped inside.
I didn’t even say anything, just walked past him like I’d already decided, and he went quiet behind me.
The door clicked shut.
For a second neither of us spoke.
Then he scoffed. "Wow. So dramatic."
"Move," I muttered, nudging him lightly when he just stood there blocking the way.
He stumbled a bit, grabbed my shirt to steady himself. "Careful, rude alpha, I’m still injured because of you."
"Yeah, yeah," I caught his wrist before he could lose balance again, "keep talking and I’ll leave for real this time."
"You wouldn’t," he said, but his fingers tightened on my shirt like he wasn’t fully sure.
I didn’t answer.
His apartment was... him.
Clean but not really, like things were in place but also slightly messy in a way that made sense only to him, snacks on the table, a hoodie thrown over a chair, soft lighting that made everything feel warmer than it should.
"Don’t judge," he said quickly, kicking a random shirt off the floor with his foot, "I wasn’t expecting company."
"I’m not judging."
"You’re definitely judging."
"I’ve seen worse."
"Oh wow, thank you, I feel so honoured."
I rolled my eyes and let go of his wrist slowly. "Bathroom?"
He pointed lazily. "Left."
I nodded, then paused when he didn’t move.
"Aren’t you coming?" he asked.
"You said shower."
"Yeah," he shrugged, then winced again, "but now I’m thinking I might just lie down and die instead."
I snorted. "Get in the shower."
"Bossy."
"You like it."
He smirked, but it faded fast when he tried to walk again and his legs almost gave out.
I grabbed his arm without thinking.
He looked at my hand, then at me, something softer passing through his face before he covered it up. "You’re obsessed with touching me."
"Shut up and walk."
"Make me."
I didn’t even argue, just pulled him along, slower this time.
The bathroom filled with steam not long after.
Sunoo leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching me like he was waiting for something.
"You’re really staying," he said.
"Yeah."
"Wow."
"What now?"
"Nothing," he shrugged, then added under his breath, "just didn’t think you would."
I ignored that and reached for the shower handle.
He stepped in first, then hissed quietly when the water hit him.
"Too hot?"
"No, I’m just dramatic, remember?"
"Yeah, I noticed."
He rolled his eyes but didn’t argue, just stood there under the water, quieter than before.
Too quiet.
I stepped in after him.
For a moment it felt weird, not in a bad way, just... different.
He wasn’t talking.
He wasn’t teasing.
He just stood there, head tilted slightly forward, letting the water run over him.
"Hey," I said.
He hummed.
"You’re quiet."
"Don’t get used to it."
"Wasn’t planning to."
He huffed a small laugh.
I reached for the shampoo without thinking.
"Turn around."
He blinked. "What?"
"Turn around."
"...you’re joking."
"Do I look like I’m joking?"
"Yes, actually, you always look like you’re about to say something rude."
"Sunoo."
"Okay, okay," he turned slowly, muttering, "this is weird."
"Stop talking."
"You literally just said..."
"Just..." I sighed, "stop for two seconds."
He did.
Barely.
I poured some shampoo into my hand and worked it into his hair.
He stiffened at first.
Then slowly relaxed.
"Wow," he said after a second, voice quieter now, "you’re full of surprises."
"Don’t make it weird."
"I’m not, you’re the one washing my hair like we’re married or something."
I paused for a second.
He felt it.
"Told you," he mumbled, "you’re thinking too much again."
I exhaled slowly and kept going.
His hair was soft under my fingers.
He leaned back just a little, not enough to be obvious, but enough that I noticed.
Neither of us spoke for a while.
Just water, breathing, and the quiet that didn’t feel awkward but also didn’t feel safe.
Too easy.
That was the problem.
After a bit, he turned around again, looking up at me with wet hair stuck to his forehead, eyes a little softer than usual.
"You’re being nice," he said.
"Don’t get used to it."
He smiled anyway.
"Too late."
We didn’t rush after that.
Just finished up, dried off, moved around each other in that small space like we’d done it before, like it wasn’t new.
It felt wrong how easy it was.
Back in his room, he dropped onto the bed immediately.
"Oh my god," he groaned, burying his face in the pillow, "I’m never walking again."
"Good," I said, grabbing a towel and tossing it at him, "less talking."
He threw it back weakly. "Rude."
I sat on the edge of the bed.
He shifted, then laid on his side facing me, eyes already half closed.
"You’re still here," he murmured.
"Yeah."
"Wow," he smiled faintly, "twice in one night you surprise me."
"Go to sleep."
"Bossy."
"Sunoo."
"Okay," he mumbled, then added softly, "don’t leave."
My chest tightened.
"I won’t."
He nodded like that was enough, like he believed me without question.
Idiot.
A few minutes later, his breathing slowed.
Then evened out.
Then he was gone.
Just like that.
Mid-sentence too, because I was pretty sure he was about to say something else but never finished it.
I stayed where I was.
Didn’t move.
Didn’t even realise how long I’d been staring at him until my neck started to hurt.
His face looked different when he slept.
Less sharp.
Less guarded.
Just... him.
I reached out before I could stop myself and brushed his hair back.
He didn’t wake up.
Of course he didn’t.
I let my hand drop.
"This was supposed to be simple," I muttered under my breath.
It wasn’t.
It hadn’t been for a while.
I leaned back slightly, staring at the ceiling now, trying to ignore the way my chest felt too tight for no reason.
This wasn’t supposed to matter.
He wasn’t supposed to matter.
But he did.
And that was the problem.
I closed my eyes for a second.
Opened them again.
He shifted in his sleep, moving closer without waking, his hand brushing against my arm like it belonged there.
I didn’t move it away.
I should have.
I didn’t.
After a while, he stirred.
His eyes blinked open slowly, unfocused at first, then landing on me.
"You’re still here," he said, voice rough with sleep.
"Yeah."
He smiled, small and real.
"Good."
I swallowed.
"Sunoo—"
"Wait," he pushed himself up a little, wincing but ignoring it, eyes locked on mine now, something serious there for the first time since I met him.
"What?"
He hesitated.
Which was new.
Sunoo didn’t hesitate.
Then he took a breath.
"Be my boyfriend."
My brain stopped.
Just like that.
No build up.
No joke.
No teasing.
Just that.
I stared at him.
"You’re joking."
"I’m not."
"You are."
"I’m not," he repeated, quieter now but steady, "I know how this sounds, I know it’s fast and stupid and you’re probably already thinking of ten reasons to say no, but I like you, okay? I like you when you’re annoying and when you’re quiet and when you pretend you don’t care but you actually do, and I don’t want to be just some distraction you forget tomorrow."
I didn’t say anything.
He kept going.
"I’m not asking for forever, I’m not crazy," he let out a small laugh, "just... try with me. That’s it."
Silence filled the room.
Heavy.
Waiting.
He watched me like everything depended on what I said next.
And maybe it did.
My mouth opened.
Then closed.
Because for the first time in a long time, I didn’t know what to say.
And that scared me more than anything.