Chapter 26 Think It, Mean It, Say It
Think It, Mean It, Say It
Wynter’s hand rested gently against the small of my back as we stumbled into my dorm building. The hallway lights felt too bright, the stark contrast to the pulsing club a little dizzying. I leaned into him more than I meant to, but the world swayed less when he was close.
“You are so so so tall…” I giggled, blinking up at him as he swiped my key card to unlock the elevator.
“That’s not exactly a unique observation, Yesoh,” Wynter replied, the corner of his mouth twitching.
“I bet you can see the tops of everyone’s heads. What’s it like up there? Do you feel superior?”
He didn’t answer, just shook his head as we stepped inside the elevator. I caught the flicker of a smile, though, and it made me grin.
When the doors closed, I let myself sag against the wall. “Why are you even here? Do you not have anything better to do like you always do, a shoot, a date?”
“Nothing else holding my attention tonight,” he said dryly. “Just you.”
I frowned at him. “That doesn’t make sense. I’m a terrible plan.”
He sighed and glanced down at me, his voice soft. “You’re never a terrible plan.”
“You don’t know that,” I warned him, “I could be the most horrible person ever and you wouldn’t even know.”
“I feel I have known you far too long for me to think so low of your character.” He assured me as guilt knotted the depths of my stomach. “You wouldn’t intentionally hurt anyone.”
But I have hurt you, I am actually reading your most secret private thoughts and still looking you in the eye every single day. But again, he cannot know that.
“Would you forgive me if I was horrible to you someday?” I swallowed hard. “If I did something unforgivable.”
He stared at me then as if I hadn’t a clue what on earth was coming out of my own mouth. He just smiled shaking his head, and in that moment I wanted nothing more than to tell him the truth. But I couldn’t.
The elevator dinged, cutting through the moment before I could process his words.
“God Wyn.” I sighed glancing up at him dreamily.
“What is it?”
“You’re being serious aren’t you?” I teared up, “You really do…you see me differently?”
“Yes, which is what I’ve been trying to tell you this entire time Soh. But right now let’s not concern ourselves with matters of the heart let’s get you to bed yeah?” He placed a hand on my cheek.
“Yeah.” I nodded.
When we reached my door, I fumbled with my keys, dropping them twice before Wynter gently pried them out of my hand and when he did I caught a glimpse of a jagged scar on his elbow, it had faded a little bit but it was still very much visible.
I hadn’t noticed it before, maybe because he’d never let me this close before.
“What happened here—”
“Nothing, I’ve got it,” he said, unlocking the door with unpracticed ease.
Inside, my dorm felt impossibly small with him there. He helped me kick off my heels, his touch careful as he set them neatly by the door.
“Do you always organize other people’s shoes?” I asked, swaying slightly as I leaned against the couch.
“Only when they’re stumbling around drunk,” he said, steering me toward my bed.
I flopped down onto the covers, staring at the ceiling. “You’re like… a very responsible black cat. Or maybe a dad.”
He raised an eyebrow. “A dad? Not for the next few years I’ll avoid pregnancy at the peak of my career as long as I can, although for future reference that is flattering.”
“A hot dad,” I corrected, closing my eyes. “A total DILF.”
“What does that mean?” He questioned and I pressed my fingertip to his chin.
“Daddy I’d like to fu–”
Wynter made a choking noise, and I cracked one eye open to see his ears go pink. “You need water,” he said quickly, escaping to the kitchenette.
When he returned with a glass, I sat up slowly, taking it from him with both hands. “Why are you always so nice to me, it makes me feel all….gooey inside you know?”
“I think it’s part of the contract your brother gave me to be your friend against my will,” he said, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Look after Yesoh. Don’t let her make any terrible life decisions.”
I poked his arm. “You’re contractually obligated to take care of me? That’s so romantic. You’re like my bodyguard. Oh my God are we in a slow-burn college romance like in the books from Barnes and Noble?”
“A what?” He perplexed,
“Nevermind clearly this isn’t a safe space for that…”
“Drink the water, Yesoh,” he said, but there was a warmth in his voice.
Halfway through the glass, I paused, squinting at him. “Do you think my nose is weird?”
“What?” He stared at me like I’d just asked him to solve a math problem in French.
“My nose. Is it weird? It’s kind of round and wide.”
“Your nose is fine,” he said, exasperated. “I wouldn’t know anyways my nose isn’t real.”
“Just fine?” I teased, leaning closer. “I thought I was your favorite client.”
He groaned, running a hand through his hair. “Yesoh, I’m begging you. Stop overanalyzing your nose and finish your water.”
“Wait did you just say you have a nose job—” I gasped,
“I broke it when I was a kid, had to have surgery and when I came out it was different.” He explained.
I traced my curious finger over the bridge of his nose and his eyes followed, “Baby Wynter has the most insane lore. Your surgeon did a phenomenal job though holy shit.”
“Oh you have no idea.” He assured me.
My phone buzzed on the nightstand, and he glanced at it. “It’s Sydney,” he said, reading the message. “She says she and Remi are staying at Jax’s tonight.”
And then his cheeks flushed and I narrowed my eyes at him “What is it?”
“I— uh nothing.” He cleared his throat.
“Just tell me!”
“She also said she has condoms in the box under her bed.” He whispered not meeting my gaze.
“Sydney is so silly!” I giggled leaning back. “She seriously thinks we’re like fucking right now?”
“Yesoh.” He warned at my harsh language pressing his tongue to his cheek. “Enough.”
“Ohhhh,” I said, dragging out the word. “That means it’s just you and me. We could… play Scrabble.”
“Go to sleep, Yesoh.”
“Or Monopoly. Or truth or dare!”
Wynter shook his head, standing up. “I’m going to get you some ibuprofen. Don’t move.”
When he came back, I took the pills without protest, watching him as he set up a makeshift bed on the floor beside me.
As I leaned against the mattress, the room tilted dangerously, and my stomach churned in protest. I groaned, clutching my middle.
“Wynter,” I muttered weakly. “I think I’m gonna—”
“Hold on,” he said quickly, his voice sharp with focus. In one smooth motion, he grabbed a towel from the back of a chair and placed it over his lap.
“What… what are you doing?” I blinked at him, my voice incredulous even as my head spun.
“A precaution,” he said matter-of-factly, crouching in front of me. His hands hovered near my shoulders as if ready to steady me. “My jacket is twelve thousand dollars.”
“You were just gonna let me throw up on you?”
“If I had to,” he said, his eyes calm and unwavering, like it was the most normal thing in the world.
I stared at him, torn between horror and bewilderment. “You’re like, actually insane.”
“And you’re drunk,” he replied. “Now, do you need the bin or are you gonna be okay?”
The wave of nausea ebbed, and I pushed myself back, breathing heavily. “I think… I think it’s passing,” I managed.
He nodded, but didn’t move the towel. “Good. But let me know if it comes back.”
“You’re crazy,” I muttered again, staring at him. “Who does that? Who just… volunteers to get thrown up on?”
“Someone who’s trying to make sure you don’t keel over in the middle of the night,” he said, his voice steady but tinged with dry humor.
“You’re too much,” I said, lying back against the couch with a deep sigh.
He raised an eyebrow. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
I watched him fold the towel and toss it aside once he was sure I was fine. There was something absurdly kind about it, and it made my chest ache in a way I wasn’t ready to acknowledge.
He must really be into me.
“Thanks,” I mumbled, feeling uncharacteristically shy.
“You’re staying?” I asked, my voice quieter now.
“In what world would I leave?” He left me with that lingering question.
I drifted off to the sound of his breathing, steady and close, like he was anchoring me to the moment. For the first time all night, the room stopped spinning.
“Do you really want me Wynter, are you being serious. I want you to know that if you’re even the slightest bit unsure to let me go, I can’t move on a maybe this time. I’m not fifteen anymore. So tell me now, I won’t hold it against you if you change your mind.” I swallowed the lump in my throat,
“I don’t want you Yesoh Yeo. I need you.
” He whispered back, his voice ridden with unshakable emotion.
“I honestly, truly, certainly like you. And not as a friend, I want for you to be more than just that to me. And I’m willing to work for it.
You’re right, it was selfish of me to lay my feelings on you and expect immediate reciprocation.
I promise I’ll— I’ll earn you every day.
Every day until you deem me worthy of you. ”
My heart sank to my toes, I felt like I’d just dropped on a rollercoaster.
“Will you mean that in the morning?” I asked, teary-eyed.
“I’ll remind you.” He assured me, “Even in the morning.”
When I woke up I heard the door click and in swept none other than the knight in shining armour himself, in changed clothes-- namely a white shirt and those unnecessarily skin-tight skating pants.
holding with him a paper bag of food. I could smell it all the way from over here and my stomach grumbled. He glared at me in the corner with this mischievous glint in his perfect brown eyes.
“You’re awake,” he said softly, glancing over at me. His voice, low and smooth, sent a little shiver through me.
“Barely,” I croaked, my voice hoarse from the night before. “How long have I been out?”
“Not that long, I headed out early to check in on Bae, take a shower and get food.” He explained.