c019

"The bed," Hani declares, folding her arms as she eyes Seokga,"should be mine. Since I'm wounded."

"You can take the couch, fox," is the icy retort. "I paid for these rooms. I get the bed."

The god and the gumiho are glaring at each other, standing on opposite sides of the bed.

"I,"Hani insists in extreme annoyance, "was bitten by the baegopeun gwisin."

"And I," Seokga replies coldly, "fell down a hill because of you."

"We both fell down the hill. And it was your fault, not mine." Hani straightens, shaking her head. "This is ridiculous. We sound like kids." It's almost comedic, save for the fact that she really, really wants the bed. The sofa is ridden with dark stains that look suspiciously like…Never mind. "Let's play rock, paper, scissors for the bed." That should be fair enough.

Seokga looks a little too pleased at this prospect, and Hani remembers with an immense amount of annoyance the result of their staring contest. "No cheating," she adds.

"I can't agree to that," Seokga says, placing a fist on an open hand.

Damned trickster gods."Rock," Hani says, slamming her fist into her own hand with more force than is necessary, "paper, scissors—shoot!"

Hani draws scissors.

Seokga draws…

"A gun?" Hani demands, staring at the raised thumb and outstretched pointer finger. "That doesn't count."

His tactics for cheating are remarkably cheap for a thousands-of-years-old trickster god. Hani doesn't know whether she should be disappointed or amused. In response, Seokga pretends to shoot her with a bit too much satisfaction for her liking. She cocks her head.

"You're immediately disqualified," Hani informs him triumphantly. "The game is rock, paper, scissors—not rock, paper, scissors, gun. You're disqualified," she continues smugly, "and I get the bed."

Five minutes later, Hani can't help but feel a surge of guilt as she lies in the bed, Seokga on the floor below her on a wad of bathroom towels, the grinding of his teeth audible. He refused the couch with vehement disgust. Hani rolls onto her side, peering down at him. His eyes are open and immediately flick to her face in visible infuriation. "Enjoying the bed?" he snaps.

Hani winces before rolling over onto her back, staring at the bumpy ceiling. Seokga has helped bind her leg, and she repays him like this. No. Hani frowns. Seokga deserves to sleep on the floor—perhaps it will humble him. And the fallen god can use some humbling.

She closes her eyes.

And opens them again.

The bed could be big enough for two.

Absolutely not.

Hani sighs, rubbing her forehead wearily.

But…both she and Seokga have had a trying day. The only difference is that she gets to end it in a bed, while Seokga suffers on the floor. And the bed is big enough for two.

Fine.Hani glances back down at Seokga and prods his head with a finger. He glowers at her. "What?"

"You get the left side," she says, "and I get the right side. Don't steal the blankets and don't kick me, or I won't claim responsibility for what happens next." Leaving it at that, she rolls away, facing the wall as she listens to Seokga's disbelieving huff. There is shuffling as he rises from the floor, and then the bed is groaning under his weight as he slides onto the left side, pulling the blankets up to his chin.

Hani stares determinedly at the wall as she feels Seokga's gaze on her back and the warmth that radiates from his body only a few inches away.

"Conscience caught up to you?" His breath tickles the back of her neck, where goosebumps rise.

"Unfortunately," she says with a sigh, turning around to face him for the sole purpose of sending him a frown. His emerald eyes glitter in the dimness of the room. He has propped his head up with a hand and is watching her in a way that alerts her to the fact that he is currently formulating another jibe. It comes a moment later.

"Try not to snore tonight."

"I don't snore," she murmurs, eyelids growing heavy. She tugs the blankets closer to her. She feels Seokga's sharp smile in the darkness.

"Yes, you do."

But Hani is too tired to answer him. Her breathing has slowed to a sluggish rhythm, deepening as her eyes flutter shut. She'll argue with him in the morning.

She is nestled against something warm, tangled in body-heated sheets, her head resting not on a pillow, but on something firm and hard. Blearily, Hani opens her eyes to mid-morning sun filtering through the room's window, dust mites dancing in between the buttery yellow rays of light. She blinks. Her mind is still foggy with remnants of sleep, her thoughts slow and lethargic.

It takes a few moments for her to realize that her head is lying on Seokga's chest, one of her arms draped across his muscled, flat stomach. One of his arms encircles her waist, and the other dangles off the bed. The god is still asleep, his eyes shut, his breathing deep and even. His usually icy expression is soft and serene, the planes of his face illuminated by the pale-yellow light.

What…Hani stares at him in a state of disbelief and panic. How…Why…Oh, no.

She must untangle herself from him before he awakens. She grimaces as she carefully withdraws her arm, tucking it against her side and monitoring Seokga's expression. He sleeps, still, his lips slightly parted and puffing out drowsy breaths.

Hani pauses, something in her heart stirring as she takes in the dozing god. Asleep, there is an…innocence to him that she has never seen. He looks young, the constant downward tilting to his lips gone, the eternally furrowed brows smooth and clear. She swallows a smile, not yet removing her head from where it rests against his chest. Seeing him like this is—it's new. And she finds that she doesn't quite mind it.

If only he seemed as sweet awake as he does asleep.

As the events of the past night trickle back to her, Hani gazes up at Seokga. The memory of his feather-light touch against her wounded leg is fresh in her mind. He was so careful, so gentle when he applied that balm.

There was a look of true alarm in his eyes as he burst through the bathroom door, demanding to know what happened. Already clad in the ratty robe, Hani gestured to the punctures in her skin, and Seokga's eyes darkened to a forest green in concern.

He was kind. As much as he probably ever would be, anyway.

Perhaps he'd felt bad about trying to get her booted out of the Creature Café. Hani smirks, watching as the trickster god stirs slightly in his sleep. Her amusement turns to incredulity as he rolls to his side, his other arm wrapping around her back.

Seokga is holding her.

As if she's an overgrown stuffed animal of some sort.

Face now pressed in the crook of Seokga's neck, Hani wonders if the god sleeps with a teddy bear. If he's mistaken her for it.

The thought is hilarious and terrifying all at once.

But the truth of it all is that Seokga is holding her. Holding her, his assistant that he never asked for, the gumiho that he delighted in tormenting at the Creature Café.

Hani prepares to shove him, but something stops her. Slowly, her body relaxes into his. He smells of pine trees and soap and coffee, a strange combination that is…not altogether unpleasant, exactly.

It has been years since Hani has been held like this—with such gentle fondness, such warm content. Her long string of ex-boyfriends were never interested in these types of physical acts. Hani closes her eyes, lulled by the warmth of Seokga's body against her, by the sheer comfort of being in somebody's arms.

She'll rest within his embrace, just for a few moments.

And then she'll roll away.