(03) Phobia Meets Mania
Title: (03)Pairing: Kyusung, Eunhae
Genre: crack, fluff
Summary: Kim Jongwoon hates dolls. Cho Kyuhyun looks like a doll. What will happen when the two meets?
Rating: PG-13 for cursing
Beta: broadway_bound3
A/N: hope you guys like it. and special thanks to miss2l for reading this fic first hand and commenting on subtle mistakes i have. :3
“He really did that?” Donghae asks as we eat our lunch.
I’ve been missing in action for two days because Kyuhyun had me room arrested. He wanted me to sleep and rest till my fever went down. Such a nice person indeed. Sad that I’m terrified of him.
“Seems he’s a real sweetheart, huh?” Hyukjae mutters while peeling a banana once more.
“You really are a monkey.”
“Want to see-”
“Ok! Stop it you two. Sheesh! Can’t you get along for just five minutes?” Donghae asks in desperation, I think.
“Nope,” Mojo and I answer at the same time.
“Anyways,” Hyukjae says after a few minutes of awkward silence. “Did Kyuhyun tell you where he goes whenever he disappears?”
I try to remember our conversation from last night. He isn’t much of a talker but I remember asking him that question. Ah! “In our room. He spends break time there.”
How he manages to go back and forth from school to the dormitory on such short notice is beyond me. I couldn’t even do that. Not that I’m athletic, of course.
“Go fetch him. I want to talk to him and personally thank him for taking care of you,” Donghae says as he pushes me away. What a friend you are!
“Yeah. I want to give him pointers on how to scare you,” Hyukjae adds.
“Fuck you monkey! Seriously, just… fuck you!” I retort as I run off towards the dormitory.
“I wouldn’t mind fucking you!” Mojo shouts with a snicker. I turn around and flash him the finger before running again. On the way, however, I almost trip over a sleeping Jungsu in the hallway. Why he’s there, I have no idea. I don’t want to find out either.
As usual, our room is dark. This makes it hard for me to know if someone’s inside or not because Kyuhyun refuses to turn on the light. I turn the knob and surprisingly, it isn’t locked. Under normal circumstances, with or without occupants, this door remains locked. However, me being the unfortunate guy that I am, forgot my keys inside while scurrying towards the door. I was almost late to class, and, of course, I’ll be running away like a mad man. It isn’t because of Kyuhyun. No.
I enter our room to find a bit of light by the bathroom door. I’m guessing Kyuhyun’s there. I’m such a genius! I should marry myself!
Oh well, I came here to look for him. I think this is better than him talking in the dark, right? I walk towards the bathroom and prepared myself not to look at his face. When I open the door, the sight almost made me scream. Kyuhyun’s sitting in the toilet bowl, holding a razor blade, I think, and his wrist is… it’s…
“What the fuck are you doing?!” I yelled as I grab his arm and clean the wound with water. Thank goodness the wound isn’t that deep and I might have interrupted him before he actually does the damn deed. I cover the wound with a towel then ask him to apply pressure on it. I pull him towards our room and have him sit on the bed (I don’t know whose bed though) while I blindly search for the light. Now where is that switch?
Once the lights are on, I hurriedly search for my first aid kit because I’m pretty sure I have an ointment there. I practically scatter everything I own just to find the first aid kit faster. And guess where I found it. Yep. Bathroom. Fuck.
After a few minutes of tending to Kyuhyun’s wound, which thankfully isn’t that deep, I lay back down on the bed (though I still have no idea whose) completely exhausted. I have my eyes closed with my arm covering them. I am panting for being a busy body for the past 5 minutes which felt like an hour.
“Why… the hell… did you… try… to cut… yourself?” I pant. He didn’t give me an answer even though I waited until my breathing calms down.
“You aren’t scared of me?” Kyuhyun asks after a few minutes of silence. A completely different thing with what I just asked. I figure he doesn’t want to talk about it so I let it go. For now.
“Correction, I’m not scared of you. I’m scared of what you look like.” Oh shoot! I forgot about his face! How am I supposed to face him now?
“Oh…,” he answers. Yeah, oh. I try to calm my breathing because I’m starting to hyperventilate. Relax Jongwoon. Relax. Deep breaths. Deep breaths. You can do it.
“Should I cut my face instead?”
That snaps me out of my musing.
And makes me sit up.
And look at him, which isn’t the best idea by the way. Thankfully, Kyuhyun covered his face in time before I scream like a girl once again. I stand up and try to search for something I spotted in my belongings while I was busy scattering my things. Aha! Found it!
“Put this on,” I order as I throw the glasses at him. He doesn’t question nor check the glasses. He just puts it on like it’s nothing.
“How is it?” He asks.
“I think it’s supposed to be funny but strangely, it looks good on you.” Compliments irk me so I don’t usually give them out on a silver platter. But he’s an exception because he really does look good. If it’s Hyukjae who wore it, I would’ve doubled over and laughed like a hyena.
“Weird,” I mumble.
“What is?” he asks as he scoots over to give me some space.
“I never thought I’d see the day where I can actually stare at a doll…” I mumble once again. I have this weird urge to touch his face. “…much less touch one. Can I?”
“Sure…” Kyuhyun answers monotonously. With trembling hands, I manage to brush my finger on his cheek. I move closer to him because I’m feeling braver now that his face is mostly covered. From one finger to two, then my whole palm.
“Why are you scared of my face?” He asks.
“You look like a doll.”
“You’re scared of dolls?” Kyuhyun asks. I feel him leaning onto my palm. His eyes are boring holes on my face which really should freak me out but it doesn’t. I nod in response to his question. “Why is that?”
“I don’t think now is the right time to tell you about this. I don’t trust you yet.” I take my hand back then go down to the floor to sit. “You’ll laugh at me.”
“I see,” he says before joining me down on the floor. “Why did you help me? Earlier, I mean.”
“Why wouldn’t I help you?” I ask. I think that’s a really stupid question.
“Because you hate me.”
I sigh. Not this again. “I hate your face, not you. How many times do I have to say that?”
“This is the first time you said that. Sorry for asking,” he apologizes.
“Nah… no worries.” Thus, the awkward silence envelopes us once more. I reach for his bandaged wrist to check if the wound is still bleeding. Thankfully, it isn’t. I slide my hand down to his and intertwine it. He seems surprised with the act because he tries to take his hand back, but I tighten my grip.
“My grandma said that if I’m scared or just want to hurt myself, I just have to grab someone’s hand like this and don’t let go.” I proceed to clasp his hand with both my hands and gently squeeze it. “I used to hurt myself… my parents want me to get rid of this… thing. They want me to be normal but…”
“It all became too stressful for me because every week I’m brought to a different doctor. Heck, I was even brought to a quack doctor and a priest.” A chuckle escapes my lips but we both know there’s nothing funny to laugh at. He doesn’t say anything. He’s just… motionless.
“One night, while we were staying at my grandparent’s house for vacation, something came to me. I just woke up in the middle of the night, went down in the kitchen, and grab a knife. I remember the darkness but I don’t remember how I ended up in the kitchen.”
“The only thing I remember is my grandma’s hand on mine. The knife was a good few feet away from me. Tears ran down my face as she pulls me towards the dining table and gave me a good talk. After that incident, my grandparents asked my parents to let me stay with them.”
“What did your parents say?”
“They agreed, on one condition.”
“That is…”
“I have to be cured first if I want to go home to them.” A tear escapes my eye which makes me chuckle. “Why am I saying all of these things to you?”
He doesn’t answer. A gentle squeeze on my hand is enough for me to know that he’s listening while I’m here, wiping my snot with my other hand. Disgusting. Ugh! When was the last time I cried like this?
“I suffer from Automania,” he blabbers as soon as I calm down.
“What’s that?”
“It’s an uncontrollable obsession for solitude or just being alone.”
The fuck?! If he wants to be alone then why is he in school?! It’s like a jungle in here with all those mindless, hormonal teenagers! Don’t get me started with Jungsu. Thinking about him and his mindless obsession with white is enough to send shivers up and down my spine.
“I bet you’re wondering why I’m here in school instead, huh?” Mind reader too, huh? Nice! “Dr. Kim, my psychiatrist, offered me this solution. I have suicidal tendencies and obviously my parents aren’t happy about that.”
Automania, huh. I’ve never heard of that before. But obsession with being alone is just weird. I know that being alone is good once in a while. It gives you time to recollect and think about yourself but being obsessed with it? This guy’s sick!
“I ran away from home once then I lived somewhere in the mountains. My parents asked for a rescue team to search for me.” Yep! Definitely sick. “Coming here to this school is a good thing, I guess.”
“And why is that?”
“Because you’re here.” Ew. I almost gagged on that one. I try pulling my hand from his grasp but he wouldn’t let me. “Because you’re different.”
“How am I different?”
“People would flock to me because of my face. I hate being surrounded by people. But you… instead of approaching me, you run away from me. I find it endearing,” he says with a small smile.
“Sorry, I can’t take you seriously with those glasses on. You look retarded wearing them,” I groan. A guy wearing thick rimmed glasses with huge plastic nose plus moustache is not someone you can take seriously. It’s laughable!
“At least you’re talking to me.” True. Without those glasses, I would never sit at such a close proximity to you! “You’re a nice person Jongwoon. I’m glad you’re my roommate.”
“Yeah…” I answer mindlessly. If the silence before was awkward, I find it comfortable now. He’s a nice person cursed with those looks. I pity him. “I’m Pediophobic by the way.”
“Figures. Nice to meet you Phobia.”
“Nice to meet you too, Mania.”
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