Eighteen’s Bed

Go Yohan threw himself onto the massive sofa as soon as he entered the room. I followed suit, picking up my phone from the small table next to the couch and crouching down on the spot.

Enough time had passed that the battery had charged sufficiently. I checked the time roughly—it was late enough that my parents might already be asleep—so I just sent them a message. I added a note saying I was at a friend’s place in the neighborhood.

“Ha…”@@novelbin@@

A sigh escaped my lips out of habit. Would they reply quickly? It felt awkward to go to the cram school after staying at Yohan’s place, so I decided to skip it today. I placed my hand on the sofa to push myself up. My fingers brushed against the edge of the cushion, and naturally, my gaze drifted toward Yohan.

At that moment, our eyes met.

I instinctively took a deep breath. To avoid making it obvious, I had to widen my eyes as if nothing had happened. Yohan was lying on his side, resting his head on his hand, watching me.

“Aren’t you going to call?”

Even as he asked, I remained silent. Everything Yohan did was fatal to someone like me, who was interested in him. Annoyingly, he grinned at me.

“Are you planning to go home anytime soon?”

“…They might be asleep right now.”

“What a filial son. Even in this situation, you’re thinking about your parents.”

Yohan’s fingers tapped softly against the smooth leather of the sofa, moving fluidly from his index to his ring finger. His long fingers created a discordant rhythm. Tap—tap, tap tap. I swallowed as I watched the slight protrusion of his knuckles.

“If you think I’ve been here too long…”

I lifted my eyes to meet his gaze.

“Just lend me a little money. I’ll book a hotel for the night and pay you back tomorrow.”

“Why would I?”

Yohan tilted his head slightly.

“I don’t want to.”

As I had noted before, Yohan had an unpredictable standard when it came to lending money. Sometimes he agreed, sometimes he refused, and there was no clear logic to it. Apparently, my first request had failed to meet his arbitrary criteria. It wasn’t something worth feeling wronged over. I had a good sense of self-awareness. If I had been someone important to him, he would have lent it no matter what.

In a way, this distance was perfect. Just enough to feel slightly disappointed, but not outright offended. Like a rope thrown to help me escape from the trap I had stupidly walked into once again.

I didn’t want anything from Yohan. I didn’t want to expose my feelings and end up hated. I had no interest in making my already complicated life even messier. If we ended up in different classes in our senior year and naturally drifted apart, that would be fine. The answer he gave me the other day wasn’t definite, but at least it didn’t imply he wanted to cut contact completely. That was enough for me.

“Alright.”