(?)

(kkt) i don’t need a psychics book to tell me that our fates aren’t compatible or aligned or w/e

( ... )

when she was an actual child, she never spent much time at the park. coming too close to it would make the hairs on the back of her neck stand, like an ominous weight would settle in her bones and tell her that she was at the wrong place at the wrong time. in the end, the entire town avoided the sole park and it became a resting ground for the stray statues that had no place to be. perhaps she’d missed a relatively large chunk of experience since the suburban neighborhoods are littered with them, all settled with a dust of nostalgia coating them. he had a point, she had to admit. perhaps the little girl from the strange town wanted a taste of normalcy, too.

“but hey, i’ll humor you. if you really do break a bone though, you’ll owe me one for dragging you to the hospital.” she gives way and steps forward, fitting her shoes into the iron rungs and hefts herself up so she was finally standing leveled with him. “so, are you going to let me push you down this slide, or what?”

He isn’t sure if this is anything close to a good idea, but his life has been built on whims and unknowns, and this isn’t out of the ordinary. In fact, it’s familiar to him: the sand seeping into shoes, the plastic rubbing too hard against skin, and Haru, a meter too far from him, close but never close enough.

It’s like she exists in another universe outside of his own, from the one they currently inhabit. 

She speaks of shadows and the light like he’s never known, and will never know them; speaks of things he’ll never know, for good or other. He’s known her for years, and still can’t manage to figure out what her smile is a proxy to, if anything at all.

“Okay, but I like adult-you and I also know adult-you has a fun side somewhere that will appreciate a good time at a playground as great as this one. At least I’m like eighty-nine percent sure of it.” He steps towards her instead of away, giving her a grin: all too boyish, and nothing of the man he could possibly be. “Now find that kid inside of you and let her out. You’re making her go coo-coo with all this adult talk.”

“see? you’re about as transparent as i am.”

which isn’t a bad thing whatsoever. in fact, ahyeon finds she appreciates the way wonwoo chatters and grins his boyish smile like he doesn’t have a care in the world. as if their conversation is the only important thing to focus on at the moment and it makes the student wonder how many more people share his ability of making the ones they decide to talk to feel so important with such simple gestures. it’s a great trait to have, she thinks.

and right then is when she’s being pulled back into reality once more. how fascinating, to see how easily an atmosphere can shift. “hey,” she tugs at her bag he’s got slung over his shoulder, the request slipping out easily. “give me the bag back before you get permanent back problems. besides, i’ve to see if i can afford treating your hungry self to a meal. you see, i’m not too keen on washing the dishes for a full stomach.”

waving her hand in dismissal is what follows next, brows furrowing gently while she peeks at her purse after pestering him for long enough to return her belongings. “you happen to be friends with someone who loses energy after 2 am, so the chances of you being seriously hurt,” she looks up, an encouraging smile highlighting her own features upon realizing she can indeed pay for both of them, “are slim to nonexisting.”

nodding at his words, the only real action followed by that is a nonchalant shrug of her shoulders. “it’s not unnatural to want to get out. i applied for a semester in japan to see a bit more from the world, too. you can’t do that when you’re stuck with a job and a family to take care of, i think.” not that she intends on finding out anytime soon but the thought’s there and enough to keep her musing.

her lips twitch slightly when she notices his grin, though she can’t place if he’s asking to tease her or not. “just someone nice.” ahyeon wonders if it matters now: she’s still young anyway. “everything else doesn’t really matter.”

It’s no secret to how blatantly giving she is, a person who gives, then gives, and gives again, without thought, because that’s what is natural to her, as it’s natural for the rest of the world to take, then take, and take again. It’s the first thing you notice about Ahyeon, and the first he had; Ahyeon and her heart too big for her chest to possibly hold, the burden of a weight too much for her small frame.

Ahyeon, so giving yet so stubborn to possibly understand that the physics won’t allow her to empty out forever without filling back elsewhere.

“Hey, on second thought. It’s on me.” 

His hands are quick to retrieve the wallet from her, and just as quick to keep it away from her. “I lost that bet that time, remember? Same night at the library. You said you could get through and read your textbook homework faster than me. And you did.” He takes her purse too, slinging it over his shoulder as easily as the smile is on his lips. “I never paid up my losses for that since the coffee shop wasn’t open by the time we were done.” 

And again, he keeps them on edge, quick to switch subjects before she can even catch a breath or thought. “I still can’t agree with there not being a single twenty-four hour cafe around campus. What is that all about, anyway?” He finds himself a few steps ahead of her, and retracts, always waiting for her to catch up, then meeting her pace.  

SMS SENT TO : BIGGEST NERD ; thanks, i appreciate your honesty SMS ; prepare your wallet, i won’t have mercy on it SMS ; WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU DON’T KNOW??? SMS ; wonwoo, you are the dumbest nerd i know. how do you send a picture and don’t even ask for another in exchange..  do you know if it’s a woman or a man at least??? SMS ; can’t believe i’m going on a date that will end in the death of me SMS ; i’m starting to doubt your words again…… SMS ; is this how i finally get laid- i hope not :’)

‘ what does that supposed to mean? ’ chanwoo glares at kid from next door who’s supposed to be his neighbor or something along those lines. he doesn’t even know his name but he tends to run into him every now and then and whenever he does so, he’s left with snarky remarks just like the former.

but just to be sure he quickly skims his attire in the dirty metal doors of the elevator while he’s waiting for it to reach their floor. he’s wearing navy dress pants with the matching suit jacket, a neatly tucked in white shirt tying his choice of outfit together for the day along with a black necktie.

‘ you know, just because you’ve seen me in navy that doesn’t mean i only have this one pair of suit to wear. do i look that cheap to you? ’ he huffs as chanwoo checks the other from head to toe because yes, he’s a little offended.

He hadn’t meant to be offensive -- but from the way his neighbor combats him so defensively -- maybe he hadn’t been too kind in his words. The air in the elevator turns foul too quick, his shirt fitting him too tight in all the wrong places, his hands clamming up. It’s only when the doors open that he decides to talk, this time, with somewhat of an attempt to not be on the offense.

“What I meant... was... uh,” He racks his mind for a better excuse of an explanation, having to push over a million equations and another hundred formulas to find nothing amongst everything. “It’s just. Not every day that you see a suit that navy, you know? So I thought you just liked the suit.” He peers over at the other with a questionable smile, his shoulders pulling upward.

    CROPPED BROWS KNIT together, accompanied by a narrow stare that soon melts into a look of pure relief. he, for whatever reason, had decided to play a key figure in her narrative, and now didn’t seem like an appropriate time to express gratitude. her grip around his arm tightened in an attempt to make their relationship stunt seem that much more believable. “ you owe me dinner for making me wait, “ she made sure to add, finally throwing a dismissive look over to the pitiful third party; her gaze turning sharp and slightly hostile in comparison.

    “ YOU CAN LEAVE now. “ light chestnut colored tresses fall over one side of her shoulder as she bobs her head to the side. the man is still drunk but sputtering nonsense now, causing a bitter aftertaste to dwell on her taste buds. “ babe, can you please tell him to leave me alone. he’s been following me all night. “

He never knows what’s going on, but if he knows anything at all -- it’s that you don’t mess around with a woman when she’s giving you eyes like that, and got a grip on you like this. 

“R--ri--right. Right. Dinner. Right. I owe you dinner. Of course. Because we’re dating. And dating means dates. And dinner. And whatever else. Yeah. Okay.” If his stumbling over words weren’t enough, it’d be his out of place laugh that gives the last bit of suspicion. His eyes are never still, observant between her and the drunkard ahead of him. It’s only by her words that he begins to understand the gist of it all, finally falling into place into scene.

(kkt) know what? (kkt) i accidentally cleared all our previous conversations (kkt) but you woke me up and now i’m annoyed (kkt) a wink emoji *shivers* that’s gross

the comparison gets her to snort unceremoniously like he’s stating some very obvious and lame fact instead of making fun with her about one another. if it had been someone else to tell her the exact same, ahyeon would’ve likely settled for nothing less than defensive words flying out of her own mouth in an attempt to salvage what’s left of her pride. because being smart often comes with the stigma of being boring, of spending too much reading up on things nobody cares for, of locking yourself in your room and avoiding people.

but then, she remembers that wonwoo is smart too and he’s nothing like that and neither is she and that’s why she laughs out loud, genuine amusement coloring her features. because being smart means broadening your horizon, not some stereotypes she sees in movies and he’s here to remind her of that and she’s grinning now, to a point where her gums show and her cheeks hurt. and she shoves him back just because she can. “let’s be honest, we’re probably the geeks writing those articles on wikipedia in the first place.”

“so, hold on,” the only thing she gets out of his entire explanation is one thing only. “does this mean you’re giving me free pass on smacking you? because, believe me, in this case i’m going to ask you for more study sessions in the future.” for the split of a second, she feels the childish urge to stick her tongue out at him but then she doesn’t because this is still fun, still lighthearted and ahyeon thinks, she’d just like to keep it that way. and so she does. “just kidding! i promise i’m not as violent as i was that night! just stressed out.”

he gets moving a lot faster than her but she’s following up and offering him a thumbs-up, still amused but also somewhat relieved he’s taking the heavy weight off her shoulders. “thanks!” she chirps, while mentally going through her purse to see if she’s got enough money on her to pay for their meals. she does (probably, anyway). “nothing there to talk about, actually. he’s going to london for a semester, so.” she’s grinning again.

“you got a cute friend to hook me up with?” and now she’s just getting ridiculous.

She’s a reminder of ease.

As she throws around meaningless talk with him, there’s not an ounce of strain, in neither the conversation or the way she glances over at him every so often. Even in the smile she gives, and the air she carries -- she is repose and some kind of strange relief. Everything’s easy when it comes to Ahyeon, something he’s never been able to find in anyone else.

“Alright. Fine. You’ve got me there. I definitely have corrected quite a number of articles on Wikipedia. Only because they were blatantly wrong.” He shifts his shoulders a bit, carrying both his and her backpack with a little more balance. In the process, he knocks into her, but it’s all playful. When she smiles a second time, he’s the same, all teeth and all real.

“Depends.” The scenes play out in his head all too well, even before time is able to let things unfold. He’s already in half-regret of the things he’s spouted at her, as he always is. “Not a free pass at smacking me. A free pass at smacking me when needed. Which... is a meaning both you and I might differ on. This was a bad idea. Let’s pretend like I didn’t give you permission to beat me up in the library every other night.” 

His steps slow, only because he’s noticing the way hers quicken and strain to keep up. “Awh, come on. They always go away. What’s up with that? Seoul’s just as great as London. We have galbi.” He makes sure to make it unnoticeable, in the way his legs stride more lazily, more in tune with her steps instead.

"Depends.” His tongue clicks, before he copies her grin to the best of his ability. 

" MY BOYFRIEND’S RIGHT over there. “ on most nights like these, she never needed to take the less scenic route of conjuring up a boyfriend that clearly didn’t exist. somin was a veteran when it came to driving off pitiful men who squabbled her ear off like drunken idiots, but tonight? tonight was all about persistence and it just so happened to be that she had spent the last forty minutes trying to dust the same nuisance off of her shoulders. there was some talk about giving him a chance and being able to treat her right that only boiled down to a bunch of static noise; a compilation of nonsense that she had no desire to indulge in. accompanied by a dramatic hair flip, somin wasted no time in attaching herself to the limbs of the next familiar face she saw. “ hey, what took you so long? i was waiting for you, “ she complained, praying to the heavens above that the other had taken notice of the lackey subtly following her every move. 

He’s not supposed to be here.

The music’s too loud, and nothing good is playing -- twenty minutes in, and there are already more than twenty people drunk. Somehow, the only friend he seems to have made out in the cluster of space is nowhere to be found. Thirty minutes into it all, he’s made home of the beer-stained couch on the second floor, unnoticed, and learning how to make the world’s best banana bread from a youtube channel.

An unfamiliar familiarity strikes him as he looks up, suddenly caught between a group of guys he’s seen around campus -- and her, who he’s definitely seen around campus, but not enough to conjure up a name. “Uh...” He scatters his mind for a proper response, and instead finds the measurements for banana bread.

(kkt) er… (￣▽￣)ノ uh, it depends (kkt) are my psychics text books invited too? or just me?

( sms: Wonwoo 💢 ) czecho who now…. ( sms ) i’ll call you in a few minutes ( sms ) *hours

Fuck.

He’s got no words as to how he’s already back under a pavilion in some local park, nowhere near an airport of any sort nor build. Flights are almost impossible in this weather anyway,you’re not as smart as you make yourself out to be (Czecho who), and his hands have no other function than to somehow hope this plain old hand-me-down Galaxy S3 won’t die so fast in his hold from overheating. Fingerless gloves are almost counterintuitive for a plethora of a reasons no one ever needs to go over. It’s freezing out here. A perfect -3° C.

Juyeon exhales a slow stream of air, watches the steam dissipate with the night that holds him captive. A faux hour and a half is all he needs to play this off. Maybe I should take a walk,

( sms ) not as cold as seoul, by the way

He dreams so.

[SMS: yeon] 😟

All he does is pull up his speed dial and press seven. Why he’s got Juyeon on speed dial, he’s never been able to pinpoint, but why not is more of the rational he couldn’t find justifications against. He waits for the ringer to ring five times (as many times as it can ring before he tumbles over to the person you are trying to reach is currently unavail--), then hears the sound he’s waiting for, before he’s clawing out his words into the receiver. 

“I can’t believe you’d leave me during New Years like this to just freeze over into the next ice age.” He can, and does believe it. But he’s better off pretending like he’s at least the least upset.

[sms: wonwoo] sm’s top visual yoona?? aren’t you setting your standards a little too high? [sms: wonwoo] i’ll come get it tomorrow after i turn in my thesis. i have 8 more pages to write tonight…. [sms: wonwoo] unless you wanna come over right now if you’re not busy. you know. up to you.

“i don’t want to.”

frozen, his breath hovers like a stray cloud, drawn into the boiling steam from the stall beside them. five-hundred won were forced out of his shallow pockets for the second pallet of fried squid, and he is only grateful for the cloth mask covering his crimson nose and broken lips. the evening shriveled an expected downpour with unspoken cruelty, yet false hope remains for ivory flurries to fall from the sky. stiff fingers tighten around hot packs thrown into his coat.  a fool would wait for snow when the sharp winds are drier than his bones.

kihyun scowls.

(2% more emotion than his neutral expression.)

the squid stares at him, long dead, and an uncomfortable sensation stirs in the depths of his stomach. street-side food at the entrance to myeongdong’s busiest street come from another world, are made for those with stronger tastebuds and duller olfaction. america fed him with a silver spoon and a pinch of salt — it explains the extra weight in his face. he looks at wonwoo and shakes his head. carefully brushed hair falls into his eyes but he doesn’t move the strands on account of the temperature outside of his jacket.

“i have to be home soon,” laced with faux concern for the setting sun and thirty-minute commute on the metro, he says, “can we eat somewhere with normal food? i’ll cover it this time.”

“Sometimes days I feel like I know you better than I know electromagnetism, and on days like today I’m not too sure if I know you any better than I’ll ever know relativity.” 

He’s not too sure of anything besides the tray of squid held so thoughtfully between his two hands. This side of the city isn’t one he’s ever near, the only excuse in how foreign the streets seem. He prefers his surroundings to be more familiar. It’s the reason he’s closing into Kihyun a little more than usual, the notion of space taking up space elsewhere.

(2% more close than the norm.)

A few squid legs pop into his mouth, a brief moment of warmth before the frigidness of Seoul’s January cuts at his tongue again. Three or four more legs disappear, then get thrown into a trash can near by. With both his hands free, he shoves them into the solace of his pockets, before he nudges at Kihyun’s shoulder.

L O L!

he’s still wearing a frown, a conflict between wanting to be amused and wanting to be irked by the impromptu nature of this strange, strange man. “give that back to me,” he mutters, reaching over to reclaim the pick and keep it tight between his fingers this time around. not the tips. “neither,” (i’m not mad at you), “but if you keep this up, i won’t explain.” tut, tut, tut. hypocrisy reeks. seethes in your bones even after death.

the employee spreads his fingers and allows the pick to drop on the counter, eyes kept on the small item. “i wish we had a guitar lesson club.” he snorts at the thought, purses his lips out all snide. “every fucking person needs music therapy around here, meanwhile.” his right index saves his glasses from sliding down all the way for the nth time, tongue smacking against his top teeth as he takes the pick back and places it where he’d got it from. “by acquiring actual music taste, for one.

“what kind of crew doesn’t have fucking music taste?” in a place like this, especially. kiel’s eyes flicker when he’s facing wonwoo again, set on looking at him from the further distance he now stands. “what do you listen to?” some calm sits just on his shoulders seeing this guy, a breath he didn’t know he was holding escaping from his mouth upon realizing so. the afternoon haze wants to disagree.

He’s got a frown of his own (one of which he never notices), until he catches the way the corner of Kiel’s lips quiver just the slightest, like he’s not sure if it’s anywhere near socially acceptable to accede to his dry humor. “Sorry. My hands habitually steal things.” His eyes flicker over to Kiel’s, already reading at his words before they even filter out. “Bad habit. I know.”

His weight shifts from one foot to the other, the slight fatigue of each side some subtle reminder of the body to the mind that he’s got other places to be. His right foot switching off balance to his left is the way his head responds to the rest: nah. 

(Bad habit.) (His mind knows.)

“Anything on the radio, honestly. I’m not too picky about my music.” He’s already humming the song playing somewhere in the back scene as he responds; another tune too familiar and too overplayed. “When I get picky about my song choice once in a while, I’ll play Sinatra and Natalie Cole. Etta, if I’m feeling really picky.” 

SMS SENT TO : BIGGEST NERD ; “accidentally” SMS SENT TO : BIGGEST NERD ; why do i not believe you? SMS SENT TO : BIGGEST NERD ; listen. you better treat me to the best dinner of my life, ok? i’ll eat like a pig and you can’t stop me SMS SENT TO : BIGGEST NERD ; yeah yeah sure you sure love me B( SMS SENT TO : BIGGEST NERD ; i really hope this person is not a maniac or something.. how old are they? send me a picture, i need to know who i’m going out with-