Junho immediately found the card the detectives gave him and called. You simply just stand in the middle of the mess, not sure what to do or where to even start once the cops get done. They arrive within 20 minutes, look at you with raised eyebrows and then again at the mess.
“You sure you don’t have any enemies you want to tell us about?”
You just stare at them in shock, seriously? Junho wraps his arms around you from behind and lets you pull from his strength.
“We’ll get forensics over here to dust for prints, but we have to tell you, it’s a hotel room, there’s going to be a whole crap load. Anyone you know of that’s had access to your room lately?”
“I sent over one of the PA’s today, from her company, to pick up her glasses.”
“And why couldn’t you come get them yourself?”
What was with this cop? “I was filming all day, until I got home and you showed up. We are filming at the same place she was attacked.”
The nasty cop just wouldn’t shut up, “You realize even if this is an anti or sasaeng that we can’t do anything to them because she’s a foreigner? If the offender ends up being another foreigner, all you’ve done is waste our time. ”
Junho steps back and puts himself between you and the cop, “Attempted murder, robbery, and stalking are a waste of your time?”
The cop just shrugs and begins wandering around, snapping pictures. The elder partner just sighs and turns to you, “If we find this person you’re wanting to press charges correct?”
He nods, starts to walk off than turns back, “It’ll be at least an hour to get finished up here, from the looks of it, there isn’t really anything to salvage. I’m assuming we can reach her at your place?” He motions to Junho.
“Yes. I will have her check out once we get to the lobby. We’ll have housekeeping just throw everything away. Thank you for your time,” he bows to the elder detective, takes your hand and leads you out of the room.
In the lobby he requests the manager ad explains the situation. You explain that you are with the production company and that yours is one of ten plus rooms under their name. After about 15 minutes, he has everything taken care of and you are on your way back out to Junho’s car.
After he slips behind the wheel, he looks over and runs a hand down the side of your face. The last three days, plus the knowledge that everything you brought is now destroyed, finally hits you. His thumb wipes away the tears that start falling. He reaches over and pulls you into his arms. When the tears subside, he kisses your forehead, keeps a hold of your hand and starts the drive back to his home.
Once again you are back in his living room. You look down at your only remaining clothes, “Can I borrow your sweatshirt and shorts again? I guess I need these to wear to work tomorrow.”
He walks towards you and pulls you into another hug, “You can borrow whatever you need. What’s mine is yours now.” He shifts and his lips gently press to yours. The heat of earlier isn’t forgotten and re-ignites instantly. You’ve never experienced heat and tenderness at the same time; it is an intoxicating mix. His forehead leans on yours as he pulls his lips away.
“Let’s get you to bed; I’ll sleep on the couch.” He takes your hand and guides you up the stairs. “Let me grab my stuff from the bathroom.”
He returns in minutes, grabs pajama bottoms from the drawer, turns to give you a peck on the lips and disappears back out the door. It really isn’t fair to make him sleep on the couch you argue with yourself. This is his home after all, so what if you were injured, that was yesterday. You should be able to sleep on the couch. Or, the devil on your shoulder replies, you can share the bed again tonight. You bite your lip at the thought. Considering the three make out sessions today, there is no doubt as to what would happen if the two of you share the bed tonight. You’re positive that’s why he’s down on the couch. Didn’t he keep saying that he was frustrated enough it was going to kill him?
You walk over to the closet to pull out the sweatshirt and shorts you had on earlier. Your hand falls to one of his button down dress shirts just to the side. He had that on the other day for his meeting at JYPE. You reach over to smell it, inhaling his scent. There probably wasn’t a need to wash it as he only wore it for a few hours. Before you change your mind you pull it off the hanger and quickly pull it on.
As you climb into bed you just lay there unable to sleep, his scent is all around you. You last about an hour, than you throw the covers aside and tip toe out the room and down the stairs. You stop halfway as you can see him laying there on the couch; arms behind his head, bare-chested, with a blanket thrown over his legs. He isn’t asleep either, just laying there staring at the ceiling. Your foot lands on a creaky stair and his head turns. His expression is one of shock and as you get closer his eyes take in what you’re wearing but he doesn’t move.
You come to a stop in front of him and he sits up with a question, “Everything alright? You need something?”
Now or never you tell yourself as you hold your hand out to him, “Just you. I can’t sleep, you aren’t there.”
His expression turns pained as he closes his eyes, “Jagi. God I wish but it would seriously kill me to lie next to you all night, especially dressed like that.” His eyes take another tour starting at your toes, pausing at his Buddha, then stopping at your lips.
Your hand is still outstretched, “Come with me,” you barely whisper.
His shocked expression rises to your eyes, “No Jagi, I’m fine right here.”
You reach down and take his hand, “Your side of the bed is waiting.”