Clap - 70
“Hand.”
At that moment, Ichan poked Jaemin’s cheek with his finger. Jaemin looked up at him. Ichan had his palm outstretched, waiting like he was asking a puppy for its paw. Jaemin, almost in a daze, handed him his right hand. Then, Ichan shook his head.
“You need to give me both.”
“…”
Jaemin finally noticed the string on Ichan’s other hand. It was the same kind of string that was tying his ankle. Were they going to tie him up again? Were they going to lock him in the bedroom and chain him up?
Today was strangely off-track from the usual routine. Jaemin couldn’t tell if it was a red flag or a green flag. What were they even thinking?
Jaemin, not knowing anything, obediently gave him his other hand. Soon, the rope tightened around his wrists, pressing against his skin. It didn’t cut off his circulation, though his skin turned a little pale where it was pressed.
Ichan lifted Jaemin up, and Jaemin adjusted to being held in his arms. Jaemin felt comfortable in Ichan’s embrace. His stomach was full, and the warmth of Ichan’s body and the scent of him were soothing. All that was left was to sleep, and it would be perfect.
As Jaemin thought this, he scrunched up his nose. He felt like an indifferent cat just living without a care. He needed to figure out a way to escape from these two. But his brain seemed to be malfunctioning from being so trapped.
Instead of taking him to the bedroom, Ichan took him to the living room. It was the first time Jaemin had entered the neatly furnished, spacious living room. A large sofa, soft-looking carpet, a black marble table, and a TV bigger than Jaemin’s height. Oddly shaped geometric decorations decorated the room, perfectly matching the two brothers.
Ichan carefully set Jaemin down on the sofa. Jaemin curled up like a cat that had been dropped into an unfamiliar place.
Ichan sat next to him. Then, he picked up one of the remotes neatly arranged on a corner of the table. He turned on the TV and asked Jaemin,
“Do you want to watch a movie?”
“…What did you say?”
Jaemin asked back, as if he hadn’t heard correctly. His eyes grew wide, his lashes lifted, and his lips parted in surprise.
What was wrong with these guys today?
The psychotic bastards who had already been out of their minds seemed to have completely lost it now.
Jaemin couldn’t say anything for a while. He was doubting his ears, unsure if he had heard that correctly. He had no answer. He had been so busy working and scrambling for meals that he couldn’t even think about movies. Whether a film reached ten million viewers or bombed at the box office, it had nothing to do with him.
There was an old TV in his accommodation, but there were more channels that didn’t work than ones that did, and even when it worked, there was a fierce fight over the remote, so he hadn’t paid attention to it for a while.
Jaemin was swallowing his discomfort in silence when Ihyun appeared carrying a tray. On the tray were three cups of coffee and peach, blueberry, and strawberry tarts.
Jaemin’s lips twisted in a strange way. The food didn’t seem to match the situation at all.
Coffee and desserts. Those were things you ate when sitting together chatting, not things to share with your kidnappers.
Jaemin stared at the dessert pile on the marble table like it was a bug. Ihyun placed the coffee in front of him.
“Drink up. You ate already, so you should have some coffee too.”
“…”
Jaemin had been given desserts before, but it was the first time they had set up such a spread for coffee.
Jaemin twisted his tied wrist once, but didn’t take the fork. The stares from Ihyun and Ichan, who were watching him intently, were too painful. Jaemin reluctantly picked up the fork, looking as gloomy as a criminal about to be executed.
It was uncomfortable with his hands tied, but he managed to poke a piece of fruit from the tart. He twisted his arm and put it in his mouth. Despite the discomfort, the sweet peach tasted good. Jaemin sucked on it like it was candy.
He wanted to drink the coffee too, but he was afraid he would spill it, so he didn’t even try. Ihyun, sensing this, brought over a straw and inserted it into the coffee. He lifted the cup and brought it to Jaemin’s lips.
Jaemin awkwardly sipped through the straw. The coffee that flowed over his tongue was bitter, much stronger than the usual coffee mix he drank. His eyebrows immediately furrowed. Ihyun chuckled, making a sound like air escaping from a balloon.