#mxj.yb

my muse wakes up in your muse’s body

>>                               Someone’s apartment, 7:03 a.m.                                   <<

Minhyun groaned and shoved at the arm that was vigorously shaking her awake and pulled the sheet over her head, eyes squeezing shut. To say she felt like shit was an understatement. She hadn’t felt this drunk since that time she woke up next to Mark and subsequently drank to forget the incident never occurred. It still wasn’t the same between them, matter of fact she was avoiding the cafe altogether which meant no cheerful greetings from Hanbyul. 

A pounding that Mihyun took for a head ache started getting louder and with it a piteous wail. The person who was shaking her viciously pulled away the sheet exposing Mihyun to the blinding light of the sun. Mihyun shot up into a sitting position, anger roiling through her and let out a loud “WHAT?” The pounding continued, quicker, like a drum beat. Mihyun barely had time to register what she was looking at before clothes were being thrown at her face. She managed to catch the most important article of clothing: boxer briefs before realizing several things. 

1. This was not her bedroom.

2. The woman before her was clearly naked under her sheer bathrobe and was older. 

and the most important fact:

3. This was not her body

Mihyun screamed causing the incessant pounding to pause and the woman who was frantically babbling and moving around the room to freeze also. What in the hell was going on?! What was this? Was it some kind of dream? Mihyun bit her hand, the pain causing her to wince. Nope, not a dream because that hurt like HELL. Mihyun grabbed the woman who was now yelling at the door and shook her unceremoniously, The woman broke from Mihyun’s--or well the body she was in--grasp and shoved her away. “You need to leave now! There’s a fire escape outside, just go out the window and I’ll call you later so we can meet up, okay? Just please, leave. Go!” Not knowing what else to do, Mihyun pulled on the boxers, then the pants, shirt, socks, and shoes and climbed out the window and down the stairs and metal ladder to land in the alleyway before stumbling out towards the street. 

Various people commuting to work either stepped around her or paused to take in her disheveled form--hair mussed, shoes untied, pants zipped but not buckled, shirt with badly buttoned before moving on with lingering glances. She had to get a grip! Mihyun pushed her way through the crowds until she ducked into a coffee shop and lurched to the bathroom. A shriek went up as she entered the woman’s bathroom before she walked out and crossed the hallway into the Men’s, locking the door behind her. 

Mihyun assessed her appearance. The man in the mirror was trim, well built and muscled in all the right places. A few tattoo’s peeked out at her from her hip and left arm and what looked like a hole for a piercing below her bottom lip. She felt herself blush at examining the man’s body she was in, noting he was attractive and if this were a different situation, maybe she’d--Mihyun stopped her thoughts and quickly turned on the faucet and splashed herself with cold water. Get a grip! You need to get out of here and--and what? Where was she going to go? Then a thought lanced through her with startling clarity. If she was in this body, did that mean this guy was in hers?  With a purpose, Mihyun got properly dressed. She had just finished lacing up her--his--shoes before someone started knocking on the door. Mihyun leapt to it, swung it open, and waltzed out leaving the older businessman to grumble behind her as she stepped back out into the street to hail a cab. 

The cab ride to her apartment yielded interesting developments. That she was tall for once in her life, that she was broader than she thought the man was, and that his name was Kim Jongin and the address on his I.D. was definitely not where he had awoken that morning which meant the woman was either his girlfriend--which was unlikely since she mentioned her husband--or that he was...an escort? That thought swirled around in her head until a truth slammed into her chest: She couldn’t feel emotions. The headache she suffered was only from the alcohol consumption, even that was fading as she sobered somewhat.