Chapter 35
The cinematic battle on the television screen became a distant, muffled hum. Inside the darkened living room, the only sound Haru could hear was the frantic thrumming of his own pulse, echoing like a percussion instrument in his ears.
Raiven - or Jae-wook, in this fragile, moment - was so close that Haru could see the amber flecks in his irises. The weight of the Raivens body pinning him against the cushions was firm, an inescapable reality that made Haru's lungs feel suddenly too small for his chest.
"Jae-wook!" Haru whispered again, his voice cracking. It wasn't the voice of a seasoned 90s actor; it was the voice of a man caught in a script he hadn't rehearsed.
Raiven didn't move. He stayed hovered there, his gaze tracing the sharp line of Haru's jaw and the frantic flutter of the pulse point in his neck. For Raiven, the magnetic pull haru had on him felt like an anomaly - a glitch in his carefully programmed existence. He needed to know if the electricity was real, or if he was just projecting his own loneliness onto the only person who had dared to treat him like a human being.
He watched the way Haru's eyes widened, the way his breath hitched. The proximity was a test, a high-stakes experiment to see if the air around them would truly catch fire.
Then, just as the tension reached a snapping point - just as Haru's hand began to twitch Haru unsure of what to do.
the predatory intensity in raivens eyes dissolved into a sharp, mischievous glint. A low, melodic chuckle vibrated in his chest as he pushed himself off Haru, falling back onto his own side of the couch with a triumphant grin.
"See?" Raiven laughed, grabbing a handful of popcorn as if he hadn't just stopped Haru's heart.
Haru sat up abruptly, his chest heaving as he stared at Raiven in a mixture of shock and sheer, unadulterated indignation. He felt like a spring that had been wound too tight and suddenly released.
"You… you brat!" Haru gasped, throwing a sofa pillow at Raiven's head. "What the hell was that?"
Raiven swiped the pillow away, still laughing. "It was a character study, Haru. You said you could separate yourself from the role. I was just checking the quality of your acting."
"And?" haru whispered avoiding eyecontact.
"You will be an amazing actor some day." Raiven said casually as he leaned back againt the couch throwing more popcorn in his mouth.
What did that mean?
Haru didn't know what to take of his words. Did that mean he didn't give anything away. He didnt give away his drumming heart.
"Don't joke like that again." Haru scolded him his heart still trying to regain its usual rythm.
"Why not?" Raiven leaned back, crossing his arms behind his head.
Haru looked up at him not sure if he actually meant the question.
He had had friends before and they had become touchy and had done even more questionable actions together but it never felt awkward because all that there was was nothing. It was just pure friendship. What happened just now didnt feel similar. It made haru confused.
Raiven looked relaxed, almost smug.
But beneath the bravado, Raiven's own heart was racing. By turning it into a tease, he had managed to hide the fact that when he was that close to Haru, the world had actually stopped spinning for a second. He had felt the heat radiating off Haru's skin, and for a terrifying moment, he hadn't wanted to move.
The test had been a success, but the results were more dangerous than he was willing to admit. The realization settling like a heavy stone in his gut.
The movie played on, a montage of New York City skylines and heroic feats, but the atmosphere in the room had fundamentally changed. The "joke" had drawn a line in the sand, and both of them were now acutely aware of exactly where they were standing.
"Haru?" Raiven said after a long silence, his voice losing its teasing edge.
"What?" haru retorted casually his heart now settled and the heat previously enveloping his body dispersed.
Raiven rolled his eyes. "No. I was just thinking… about what you said. About that person you still like."
Haru's grip on the soda can tightened. It felt like a lifetime ago because it was a lifetime ago. "What about it?"
"If you like them that much… why aren't you with them?" Raiven asked. He wasn't looking at Haru; he was staring at the flickering blue light of the TV.
Haru went quiet. How could he explain that the woman he loved was likely in her fifties now, living a life he was no longer part of? How could he explain that he was a ghost inhabiting a body that didn't belong to him?
"The timing was wrong," Haru said softly. "We were separated by things we couldn't control. And now… it's too late to go back."
He still hadn't found her but even if he did what right did he have to interrupt her life when she had already moved on.
"Let me order the food," Raiven said suddenly, standing up. The shift in topic a mercy.
He walked toward the kitchen, his movements a bit too stiff to be truly casual.
Haru remained on the couch, staring blankly at the screen. His mind was a chaotic loop of the last ten minutes - the weight of Raiven, the heat, the way his head had spun when their eyes met.
He turned his head slightly, watching Raiven lean against the marble counter, his long black hair falling back majestically as he scrolled through a delivery app. A cold realization settled in Haru's gut.
When Raiven had finally gotten off him, the first thing Haru had felt wasn't relief.
It was a sudden, aching sense of loss.