Page 26 of When Worlds Collide (Between Worlds #2)

N ight had fallen in earnest once we were done decorating our new tree, and by the time we all sat down with some celebratory beers, it twinkled merrily.

The sparse, white room was bathed in alternating glows of red and green, glinting off the shiny ornaments and serving to make me feel thoroughly festive. Although, the beers were also helping.

The world always seemed a nicer, kinder place when you shared a drink with friends. And after the impromptu ‘tree up’ – as my mum called the event of decorating the tree – I was starting to feel like that’s what Sungmin and Seokmin were. Or, at least, that’s what we were on the way to becoming.

Although, I struggled somewhat with which name to settle on.

I alternated between their stage names, and their given names.

Calling them ‘Lee’ and ‘Ace’ had started to feel too much like a fan thing, and wanting to prove that I could pronounce their names correctly, I’d started using their real names.

But because I had a clumsy tongue, my pronunciation often mixed them up, a problem made worse after a couple beers.

I was mortified when, for the third time, I tried to say something to Seokmin, but both fair-haired heads shot up to look at me.

“I’m so sorry,” I groaned, holding my hands over my face in shame, even as my shoulders shook with embarrassed laughter.

They laughed along with me – well, Seokmin laughed, while Sungmin feigned outrage.

“The middle sounds are close,” Jihoon said to me, kindly, rubbing my arm to get me to lower my hands from my face.

“This is why we picked Lee and Ace.” Sungmin said, nodding at me with an understanding expression.

“English is even harder,” Seokmin lamented. “Sounds are not right.”

“You struggle because you do not practice,” Jihoon chastised the maknae. “Sungmin is much better than you because he practices.”

“I am better at knowing the words, he is better at saying them,” Seokmin countered, looking pleased with himself, while Sungmin nodded gamely.

“He is a rapper. He needs to say them.” Jihoon smirked, lifting the long-necked bottle to his lips and taking a deep pull.

“I am better at everything,” Sungmin said matter-of-factly.

“You are a terrible–” Seokmin paused, then turned to Jihoon, a question on his face as he said something in Korean.

“Hmm, roommate.” Jihoon supplied. “But he is not a bad roommate; he is just bad at cleaning up.”

“That is bad!” Seokmin cried, earning a laugh from all of us.

“I keep forgetting you all live together.” I put my empty bottle on the table, leaning back on my hands, my buzz tingling nicely on the edges of my brain.

“You should come upstairs!” The youngest member lightly smacked the table before pointing at the ceiling.

I frowned, trying to make sense of his words, before looking over at Jihoon for help. To my surprise, he wore a sheepish expression.

“You did not tell her, hyung?”

“Tell me what, ‘hyung’?” I challenged, enjoying the way he winced.

“We live upstairs!” Sungmin laughed.

I turned to him in surprise, but he only nodded in confirmation. I looked back at Jihoon.

“You didn’t say you lived in the same building!”

He hesitated before replying. “I didn’t want you to feel weird about it. It’s just… easier to be in the same building.”

Sungmin cleared his throat, and I turned to him. “Fans know we live here,” he said, nodding at me.

Holy shit.

“They know where you live?” I couldn’t keep the horror out of my voice, but all three of them wore similar expressions of disinterest and Jihoon shrugged.

“Not this exact building,” he clarified. “They know we live in this complex.”

I thought of the similar buildings surrounding us, and the massive car park I’d seen as we drove in. I hadn’t noticed, but it must be for this cluster, and driving underground was a good way to make sure no one spotted them going into specific buildings.

“But how do they know?” The idea that they were followed…

“They always know,” Jihoon said simply. “But if we stay here, they don’t know I’m in a different apartment. They won’t follow us.”

I blinked. “But won’t they see us?” My mind raced back through all the times we’d entered and left the building. I hadn’t seen anyone hanging around, but I also hadn’t known to look for them.

“We use the basement entrance, and we’ll be careful.”

This didn’t seem like a good enough solution to me, but then this wasn’t my life. I’d never had to get used to being watched at any given moment. Never had to figure out how to slip in and out of my own home.

But they had, and I supposed that with enough practice, you got good at it.

I lay sprawled across Jihoon’s chest, my leg thrown over his as we both caught our breath, his moans still echoing in my mind in the silence of the dark room.

This apartment didn’t have the floor-to-ceiling windows I’d gotten used to at the hotel, but the ambient light that did come in through the window stretched across the floor, reaching for the bed where we lay.

He pressed a kiss to my forehead, and my arms curled tighter around his ribs. Perfect bliss. That’s what this was.

“Did I put that smile on your face?” His voice rumbled through his chest from where my head lay upon it.

“More than once.” I tilted up to see him looking down at me, a grin that surely matched my own pulled lazily at his lips.

He shrugged. “You make me happy. It seemed only fair I made you more happy.”

I laughed, pressing a kiss to the bare skin of his hard chest.

For a while, after the endorphins had settled, a sleepy haze had just begun to settle over me, when he said, “I hope you aren’t mad that Sungmin and Seokmin interrupted our evening.”

I took a breath before answering. “No. I was worried about meeting them. Y’know, before.” I bit my lip.

I felt his head turn slightly, but I didn’t look up.

“Why?” He sounded so curious, I couldn’t help but smile.

“I wanted to make a good impression. I… I wanted them to like me.”

He snorted softly. “You should not worry about that.”

“But I did,” I insisted, “because they’re important to you. If they don’t like me…” I couldn’t finish the sentence, but I didn’t need to, because Jihoon had figured out what was worrying me.

“You think if they didn’t like you, I would stop liking you?” He moved a finger up my arm to hook under my chin, tilting my face up to meet his intense gaze. I squirmed under his scrutiny.

“Maybe not, but it would undoubtedly make things harder,” I admitted.

Instead of dismissing my concerns outright, his eyebrows furrowed as he considered.

“I would make them like you,” he declared eventually, and I batted at his chest.

“Caveman.” I rolled my eyes. He caught my hand before I could bat him again, raising it to his lips to press a soft kiss to my fingers.

“They will like you,” he insisted, serious now, “because you are you. They will accept you, because you are mine.”

My breath caught on an inhale, and I smiled up at him through lips that quavered – ever so slightly.

“Does that make you mine?” I asked quietly.

“Always,” he said so firmly it would be impossible to believe otherwise. But it also made me remember earlier, before the others came round.

“Joon?” I said quietly, as if my quiet voice would soften my question.

“Hmm?” He sounded sleepy.

I shouldn’t ask. I needed to. I didn’t want to.

I inhaled.

“Is there – will there…” I didn’t even know how to say it.

“Your thoughts are too loud,” he grumbled. “Spit it out, cheonsa.”

I pressed another kiss to his warm skin, suddenly aware of my nakedness as another kind of vulnerability prickled my skin.

“You said before, about being a secret – ”

I felt him stiffen beneath me even as the arms around me tightened. I forced myself to continue.

“Will there ever be a time that we don’t have to be?”

He was silent for so long, I thought he wouldn’t answer me. The rate of his heart I heard thumping against my cheek told me he wasn’t asleep.

Whatever I expected him to say, I was still surprised when he did eventually answer.

“I won’t be a performer forever,” he said, voice tremulous. “We have our military enlistment in a few years, and then maybe… five more years…”

I did the math in my head. I knew the general plan was that they would all begin to enlist when Minjae, who was the oldest of the group turned 30 in… four years. Enlistment would last a couple years, then five years after that…

Each separate time frame clanged through me like a gong.

Four years.

Two years.

Five years.

“Eleven years,” I muttered, not really meaning to say it out loud.

“Does that change your mind?”

The question caught me by surprise, shaking me out of the silent reverie I had fallen into as I mentally went through the years it might be, how much older I would be, and what that would look like.

I didn’t realise I hadn’t responded, until suddenly, Jihoon rolled us so that he was above me, caging me in with his body.

His hands were on my face, and even in the dim light, I could see the way his face creased.

His mouth opened with slight pants that ghosted across my lips.

“Don’t leave,” he breathed, and at first, I frowned, not understanding.

“We can do this, cheonsa, we can make it work. Don’t leave.”

And I saw it then, now that I was really looking – it wasn’t fear that I didn’t love him, it was fear that I wouldn’t wait for him.

“Jihoon wha-”

His lips slammed down onto mine, almost bruising in the intensity he pushed into the kiss, his mouth moving against mine until I was forced to move with him.

His hand moved from my face to trail down my body, fingers moving over and around, delving like he was trying to re-learn my contours.

When his hand moved between my legs, I tore my mouth from his, gasping, “Joon, baby, stop.”

His fingers stilled instantly, drawing back to rest on my thigh, but his face stayed buried in my neck, muffling his next words.