RE: Keep it in the Family (Secret Class) 68 — On the Brink of Madness

Su Ah: It's okay, I understand...

Su Ah: Good luck, little bro. Take care out there.

You: You too, Noona.

And that was the end of it. The mood, after that, crashed like a plane without wings.

I blinked once. Twice. Three tis, before I let out an exasperated sigh, my lips curling into a thin, flat line. It wasn't like I didn't want to go back ho. In fact, I could argue that in this life, more than before, I wanted to be close to them.

But during the training camp period, our coach was pretty clear about it: we'd have to focus. We weren't to concern ourselves with anything outside of football, or risk losing the montum we were building.

That was pretty normal, all considered. We were about to participate in the World Cup. I couldn't really complain about that, nor could—would—I ignore his words and simply do as I please, even if it was to visit my sisters. I've already kind of broken the rule once, with my little escapade in the middle of the night to et up with Mia.

I stared at the chatbox. The bubbles didn't co up again. I bid Su Ah a quick 'goodnight', and closed the app. I felt a little colder and lonely. One day, I'd freely take them around with , if they so wished. Though, I wondered if they'd be comfortable with that. Giving up their privacy for a few pictures, or having people stare at them because of . Leaving everything behind for weeks, months, to travel with . To be there with . It wasn't easy.

I closed my eyes.

And tried to think of sothing else.

I couldn't sleep. My mind kept circling back to the sa, damn old door. Everything else around it had long beco irrelevant.

Amber eyes. A pair of hands, long fingers. A feathery touch. The gentle, teasing graze of well-polished nails, the kind that'd leave your skin tingling from pleasure. A soft smile. A voice. An exhale, warm, a whisper, the touch of a butterfly's wings. Her lips on mine. So soft. So warm. So... perfect. The taste of her tongue. The sound of her heartbeat. The lting, wetness of our bodies—

I glanced down.

My shorts were strained, a tent rising up defiantly despite the wrongness of the situation. My face wasn't flushed. I wasn't sweating. All I felt in that mont, despite the blood pooling aggressively in my lower body, was an all too familiar bitterness.

This ti it wasn't a nightmare. My thoughts had grown to beco even more intrusive than I thought they'd ever be.

I didn't need to plunge into unconsciousness for Mia to haunt my thoughts. She was already there, every hour, minute, second, of the day. I couldn't even get a reprieve from her presence in my sleep, so what was to say that I'd be able to keep her away from the confines of my conscious mind?

I wouldn't lie, I was as scared by the prospect as I was excited by it. Never, in any of my lives, had I ever felt such a strong, primal urge to seek out soone to the point it affected my sleep, my ntal health. I was never a slave to my emotions. My mind was always clear. My thoughts, organized, in line, like a row of pawns on a chess board. I could tell which one was which and move them accordingly.

But that girl had bending to her will, even when she wasn't there to make do so.

I tried to will the damn erection down, but it just wouldn't. The re thought of Mia and my cock would spring to life and refuse to stand down, like so sort of a soldier ready to be deployed to the battlefield. It didn't help that my body, and my senses, seed to have beco more sensitive than usual.

Hormones and common sense didn't agree to the treaty I diplomatically pushed forth.

My lower abdon throbbed.

I could feel a familiar tingle, running from the base of my spine to the tip of my shaft.

A growl rumbled deep in my throat.

I felt the tension build, and the heat of it spread throughout my body. There was only one thing I could do to ease this torturous pain. Only one damn thing to make it go away as quickly as possible. I tossed aside the sheets, walked briskly past the sleeping, snoring bundles that were my teammates, and headed straight for the bathroom.

I wasn't surprised in the slightest when it was Mia's body that I kept thinking about as I rubbed myself to a quick, empty climax.

"......."

How the mighty have fallen.

xXx

Mia's POV:

Between college life, assignnts, deadlines, and projects, Mia barely managed to keep her sanity intact. She didn't know what happened to her. It was as if a part of her had been torn away, and all that remained was a cold, hollow, void inside. She'd been pushing through it with sheer will, but the cracks were showing. She was a ss.

She was a ss, because she couldn't focus. Her grades had dropped. Her professors had started questioning her about her well-being, asking if she was alright. Asking if sothing had happened. Asking, asking, asking, and asking. And Mia would give them the sa answer every ti, every single one of them, without fail. "I'm alright, professor." or "Thank you for your concern. I'll do better." or "I'm sorry." and leave it at that.

It was bad. Bad to the point that she was considering taking a break, just so she could clear her head. But she knew that would be a mistake. She'd worked so hard to get to where she was, and she wasn't about to throw it all away because of so stupid boy who had made her feel like a fool.

With a huff, Mia kicked aside her shoes and, barefoot, made her way up the stairs.

"Welco back, Mia." Her mother greeted from the kitchen, clearly recognizing the loud thumping of her daughter's footsteps.

"Hello, mom." Mia replied, her voice sounding flat even to her own ears. She didn't want to sound like this, especially not towards her mother. Still, she continued forth, not stopping for a single second. Su Ah walked down just as Mia was heading towards her room.

"Hey." Su Ah's voice was soft, tentative. Like a wild animal that knew it was being approached by another predator.

"Hey..." Mia replied, equally soft, but more tired. Exhausted, even.

She barely spared her younger sister a glance.

It had been over a week since they last spoke to each other. It wasn't a deliberate decision, per se, more of a mutual understanding that both of them were dealing with sothing that they couldn't handle, and that neither wanted to burden the other. So they kept their distance, but never fully left the other alone.

Last ti they caught each other rather red-handed with the laundry.

Mia finished her trip upstairs as Su Ah stopped to gaze at her retreating back.

She roughly jamd her bedroom door wide open, and just as roughly slamd it shut. Great, now she felt like she was in her teens all over again, when she'd get upset over the smallest of things.

She threw her bag on the floor, and then herself on the bed.

Face first, with a loud thump.

Her pillow muffled her angry groans, the sound barely making it through. Once she released her frustrations vocally, she turned around, laying flat and eagle-spread.

"......"

Mia closed her eyes, and the first image that popped in her head was that of Jae-il's face.

"Damn it... why can't you just stay out of my head, you fucking bastard?"

Despite saying so, a small smile flitted across her lips. She turned to her left, her eyes magnetically drawn to the picture fra sitting on the nightstand. It was a picture of her and Jae-il together, taken at his birthday party last year.

She turned to her right, and her gaze landed on another picture, this ti it was only of him, wearing his jersey as he walked victoriously on the field, the number 9 boldly displayed on his back. He had just won the K League Youth Championship.

She turned back around, facing the ceiling. With a grunt, she grabbed her phone, unlocked it, and the very first thing she beheld was the picture that had been her lock screen for a while now. The picture of Jae-il's face, smiling brightly. Purple eyes crinkling at the corners.

Her grip on the phone tightened, her eyes welling up tears. She didn't shed them, crying wasn't a habit she wanted to develop when frustrated—she wasn't like that.

God, she missed him so much.

So much that it hurt.

So much that it had her teeth grinding violently, her frustration nearly snowballing into violence. Just a couple of days ago, Mia had lashed out on a girl who kept yapping about how gloriously amazing her brother was—right in front of her face, no less!

Joo-ri had to hold her wrist right before the squeaking girl found herself slapped into oblivion, and that had been the first ti she ever got angry at her best friend for holding her back.

The argunt escalated to the point that Joo-ri, for the first ti in their friendship, raised her voice at her and gave her a proper scolding, as if she was her actual mother. And, to Mia's horror, it actually worked.

She was left staring, speechless and ashad, at her friend's back as she stomped away.

Mia didn't want to think about it anymore. She ran a hand through her hair, rubbing it across her forehead and then down the rest of her face, as if she'd drag those ugly emotions out of her expression if she did so.

"Right, the match." And then her eyes lit up. With quick, precise taps of her fingers, she opened up an app that allowed her to view football matches. Jae-il told her he'd be playing against Yonsei University. They were older and more experienced. "He'll win anyways."

He'd always won.

"Co on, co on..." Mia scrolled through the list of upcoming gas and found what she was looking for, and tapped on the match. The screen changed, revealing a live stream that was currently in progress. The tir at the bottom right corner showed that it had only been 5 minutes into the match.

The cara zood in on the field where the players were running back and forth. It was a bit blurry but not so much that she couldn't recognize her brother. She spotted him quickly, his number 9 jersey sticking out like a sore thumb among the rest of the players. He had the ball, and the comntators were talking about sothing or other.

"Number 9, Jae-il, has the ball. He's sprinting down the right flank, making a great run." One comntator said. "Oh, and he's cut inside, dribbling past two defenders. What a beautiful piece of skill from the youngster!"

"He's a special player, no doubt about it." The other comntator added. "Look at that control and balance. He's the youngest player in the match but he's the most technically gifted out there. This boy's going places, I'm telling you."

Mia smiled, watching him dribble the ball effortlessly between the other players' legs. He was always so talented, and he was only getting better and better.

"Oh, and there's a cross! It's a brilliant cross from the right wing, straight to the far post. And Jae-il is there! Oh, oh, he shoots, he scores! Goal, goal, goal!" The comntator yelled excitedly. "Jae-il has just scored for Korea. It's now one nil to Korea. What a fantastic goal from the youngster. He was unmarked at the far post, and he took his chance perfectly."

"And that's the way we like to see it, isn't it?" The other comntator supplied gleefully. "A young player, coming through the ranks, showing his quality. He's got a bright future ahead of him. Let's see if he can add to his tally."

Mia lost herself watching the match, and when it finally finished, with Korea winning 5-1 with her brother performing a beautiful hat trick. She was a little disappointed that it was over.

She then noticed her phone's notification bar had at least 20 notifications from all the girls from her college that worshipped her brother. She clenched her jaw at that, feeling the sa violent twitch that had her nearly smacking a tooth out of a hapless college twerp.

When the livestream ended, Mia closed the app, feeling empty all of a sudden. It was only when Jae-il was around that Mia's heart truly beat for sothing other than the mundane, the ordinary, the boring and predictable routine of her everyday life.

Her brother had made it exciting. He made her feel alive.

"......"

She couldn't go on like this.

She had to see him, to nd a little bit of her breaking soul, even if it was for a brief, epheral mont.

She had to, or she'd go mad.

She'd go fucking mad.

Her eyes darkened.