𝓮𝓾𝓹𝓱𝓸𝓻𝓲𝓪

MEME 1.2, 15.11.18 - 30.11.18

in addition to the 15-day writing challenge, we bring you an ask meme! the following can be counted towards the challenge as long as the answer to the meme reaches a world count of 200.  please reblog to signal that you’d like to play along and feel free to cross things out that you’d rather not do (tag: ft. meme 1.2)

“then tell your parents thank you, from all of us.” the way she says it is playful, lighthearted and couple with a smile that comes naturally. sometimes she tries to convince herself that maybe she remembers wrong, and that he wasn’t as good looking as she remembered and that it was just the memories that confused her. but then she sees him again and he somehow lives up to whatever expectations she set. they say that it’s a bad idea to put people up on a pedestal but she can’t help it when it’s him, for a variety of reasons.

if precedent is to be believed, it will most likely end badly, but why is she always so willing to take the chance when it comes to him?

“and your hair stylist too, i guess. but have you considered maybe going blonde again? i quite liked the ice prince look.” she doesn’t mention that she likes almost every look on him, but if prompted she would hardly shy away from it. avery is nothing if not forthright and open about her opinions and this time she’s even spurned on by the flush that appears on his face. “i mean, you have a good boy next door thing going on now. i bet the girls love that.” she leaves it all open to his interpretation, whether she means it like it is or whether there are other meanings behind her words, she doesn’t really know herself.

avery shrugs somewhat noncommittally, “more or less good. as for the tour well…” she smiles through long lashes, a bit mysterious, a bit vague. “i guess you’ll have to wait and see.” it’s not so much for the sake of playing hard to get as much as it is that she doesn’t actually know how much she’s allowed to say. her company keeps her on a short leash, especially when they’re making money.

and besides, what is she supposed to say? “they’re bringing in a new girl group to replace us” doesn’t seem like a good way to start, “our company works us to the point of collapsing” is even worse. “i think about you a lot” is a scandal waiting to happen but why is that the sentence that comes to her mind the most?

“why would you be jealous of us though? didn’t you win rookie of the year and best dance performance? they love you, don’t they?” it all comes with a playful, ready upturn of her lips, because at the end of the day she is happy for him.

one glance at her reminds her of everything he had fallen for, authentic smile and mirthful eyes captivating him in a way so unfamiliar and yet with her it had only felt right. his flush only deepens at her compliments, nervous hand refusing to leave already tousled locks as he offers a sheepish grin in initial response. “the blonde was nice.” lucas agrees, recalling the era with a mild nostalgia; foreign, yes, but wasn’t idol life in general all about exploring new territory ? “ah, i think that’s what the company was going for, you know ... shy, enigmatic. boy next door.” he repeats, choosing to enumerate the adjectives with positive connotations instead of the ones he’d been used to hearing — introverted. withdrawn. brooding.

i bet the girls love that. he’s grateful for the lump in his throat that swallows down yours was the only opinion that ever mattered, replaces it with a smile more strained than the one prior. “i guess.” is what comes out instead, because what is he meant to say to something like that ? 

( a part of him is maybe resentful of how easy it is for her to act like the relationship between the two of them was normal, how something to him is nothing to her. on most days missing sweaters from his closet and developed pictures tucked away are the only things that prove that he hadn’t just made the whole thing up, and avery’s nonchalance, while something he wanted to master for himself, never made things easier.

how dare you, he thinks, biting back the i can’t stop thinking about you held in the very same thought. ) 

eyebrows knit together in the other’s response, broad and enigmatic. “you can’t be vague, that’s my title.” he quips back, features laced with wryness and wit that can only ever be trademark jung. there’s more that she knows, but isn’t letting him in on — and we used to tell each other everything sounds a little too pathetic, even for him. but lucas knows better than to push, nods in return. “at any rate, i’m sure it’ll be great, coming from you girls.” which is true: he's watched all of their comebacks, anyway, and she’s they’d never disappointed thus far.

features grow an almost sickening bittersweet at the mention of accolades; it’s nice to be noticed, sure. it’d also be nice to not be noticed after being manufactured. but he knows better than let his lips loose now. “i suppose they do.” lucas muses, more to himself than to the person he’s speaking to, really. but then the thought that it’s avery, avery, avery fills him up all over again, and he finds himself unable to break away.

this entire event had xiao bouncing on the edge of his seat of the van chauffeuring a portion of neo’s members to the venue. not because it’s halloween, but because the fright fest concert is being held at lotte world, one of the most magical places he can imagine going to ( other than the wizarding world of harry potter, which he will go to one of these days, mark his words ). the theme of the concert less than thrills him, since halloween is one of his least favorite holidays, but he won’t let that bring his mood down. rollercoasters and rides galore are calling his name.

they get through rehearsal, lunch, and soundcheck easily enough, but xiao is impatient for the rides and he’s positive that his members can tell. he’s bouncing on his feet and tapping his fingers and more restless than usual in cuddling up to his hyungs and dongsaengs, eyes consistently straying to the rides surrounding them with endless sighs coming from his lips. he wants to feel the cold wind whipping his hair back at full speed and the tingling in his face when it comes to a stop, wants to ride the atlantis so badly it leaves a childish pout on his lips the whole day.

once everything is done and all that’s left to do is meet backstage later on in the afternoon, the free time has xiao tugging at the sleeve of lucas’ outfit, the watson to his sherlock, and he’s certain that he looks like an excitable child begging their parent for something. in which case, the words tumbling out of his mouth prove that exact point. “please, pretty pleaaaase, hyung! you’ll love it, i promise!” that’s absolutely a lie, because he himself hasn’t been on the ride before and doesn’t know what it entails, or if he’ll have a good time himself.

this surmises lucas’ feelings about most celebrations, really, but halloween really takes the cake for dumbest holiday out there: there’s nothing he enjoys less than having to dress up for something he barely tolerates. unfortunately enough, being an idol means abandoning any sense of your own sentiment — which leads him here, in a trenchcoat with hair slicked back, playing sidekick to none other than his roommate, now gripping onto his sleeves with a childlike pout ( lucas thinks to himself, he has to learn how to say no to xiao one of these days ... no matter how unlikely ). 

eyebrows arch at the other’s guarantee, flimsy at best and downright untruthful at worst; as if halloween weren’t bad enough, of course they’d decided to hold it in the middle of about a hundred death contraptions — contraptions his companion for the night seemingly couldn’t be more ecstatic to get on. the name itself is an omen for disaster: atlantis. like the goddamn lost city, underwater. lucas understands it now: his life is a joke. but despite the resigned sighs and stoic stares, xiao can’t seem to take the hint, and with each pull at his sleeve becomes more and more persistent. it’s driving lucas crazy — crazy enough that he almost agrees to go on a ride just to shut the other up.

though, almost is the operative word.

“for the last time,” lucas echoes, as he can’t help but remember how many last time’s there had been prior, “i don’t care how hard you beg, kid. you’re not getting me on those things alive.” it’s not irrational to believe he could die on one of those coasters; circumstances beyond his control are things he tends to avoid, and theme park attractions are practically the epitome of just that. others call him scared; he knows he’s just being practical ! “we perform, pass out candy, get the hell out of here. that’s the plan. i’d like to stick to it.”

the door shuts heavily behind xiao, ringing through the dorm littered with conversation and greetings from the members in the living room currently playing a video game they don’t bother to take their eyes away from. he returns their sentiments, albeit with much less enthusiasm. it was his own choice to spend his entire day in the practice room, far too immersed in the steps he and miyeon have been occupying themselves with the past few days, so he can’t harbor any negative feelings towards his own decisions.

his phone feels heavy in his hand, clothes too heavy clinging to his frame, weight too heavy on his shoulders that he’s become more than accustomed to. it’s late in the day, the sun barely hanging on above the horizon, and xiao’s body is all but begging him to recline and rest. it’s not in his nature to, but when he enters his room, he casts a longing look to his bed and considers giving in just once to his natural bodily need to take a break for once in his life.

a noise from his stomach urges him to reconsider.

it doesn’t take more than that for his gaze to redirect towards the other bed in the room, spotting lucas and making his way over to sprawl across the older boy. it’s a common occurrence, for him to throw himself at whatever member was nearest to him, and more often than not he finds his roommate before anyone else.

“hyung, i’m hungry,” he whines, words muffled by his face pressed against lucas’ chest. he moves his head to the side, cheek smushed as he lets out a deep sigh. “can we have ramen?”

just at the mention of proper food his stomach sounds again, and he wills it to be patient. it has been a while since he’s had a full meal, and in all honesty, he can’t quite pinpoint the exact time or date. energy shots or pieces of fruit are his go-to, unless he and miyeon happen to remember to order food to the practice room. today in particular he can only remember a coffee that morning, paired with an apple on his way to the mobius entertainment building.

lucas is really fucking tired, but he’s not going down for nothing.

but then he hears the familiar creak of his door, and the package goes right back into his bedside drawer between his bible ( ha, ironic ) and a notebook of lyrics ( he’s almost certain they’ll never use ). he nods in a quiet assent, acknowledging the other’s presence, but of course that never satisfies xiao — over time lucas has grown more accustomed to the other’s affection, and his face remains unsurprised, still, when he feels the other’s frame press up closer to his own. “hello to you, too.” he hums, hand ruffling through xiao’s hair with as much affection as he can muster ( it isn’t much, but he’s sure xiao knows he’s trying ). 

“now ?” lucas asks, though he’s not in as much disbelief as his tone lets on; overworking can often result in a disregard for nutrition ( this much he knows for himself, and all too well ! ). but the premise of ramen, hot and delicious, is too good to pass up, no matter how late it may be, and with a resigned, defeated sigh ( when has he ever been the type to fight the younger, really ? ) lucas nods, arms reaching up to the sky in a stretch as he leans across his bed to grab his small pouch.

        “ should i turn my head, close my eyes                    turn around and forget about it? “ @ftlvcas

it’s easy to spot his figure, even in darkness, and even when the light behind him makes a shadow. she thinks it’s probably because she’s been around him enough to know these things, because it comes with time and with familiarity, both of which she had enough of to get a good grasp when it comes to it. or maybe she has a natural talent for picking out discernible characteristics of people and applying it when she had to. if it’s for any other reason then she wouldn’t know — she never thought about these things too deeply.

she likes to think he’s more of an exception than he is a rule though. after all, it’s not every day that she’s hit with nostalgia like this and she doesn’t know if she could even handle it more than a handful of times.

avery likes to think that it’s more the memories than anything else; the secret meetings behind closed doors, meaningful looks from across the room, quiet whispers, inside jokes, good night texts, the feeling of a forever that would never really come. it all sets itself up into a shape of a perfect storm that hits her right when she least expects it. her friends tell her to leave it, to ignore him and get on with the rest of her life and that “you can meet a million other guys every day” and she agrees, but she continues with a “they’ll still be there afterwards.”

so with that thought she walks up to him, figuring that if she doesn’t use a direct approach it’ll all be for nothing,

“hey,” in typical avery fashion, her smile is as clear and bright as always, no trace of coldness or any negative feeling in her tone, but her voice is more hushed, as if expecting it all to fall apart as soon as it starts. it all bounces back soon enough though, and she grins at him like nothing has happened at all. “how have you been? good, i’m assuming. what does your company feed you that makes you look like that?”

ha hates the way the air in his lungs seems to slowly evaporate, detests how his eyes can only see themselves fixated on the same figure in the room he’s come to memorize, over and over, and never quite get tired of, despite the countless moments of intimacy that back then he thought would never cease. it’s bittersweet to see her, even if he’d rather it only be more of the latter and less of the former — as much as he’d rather they just be friends of the normal sort, with the amount of time he’s reminded of how much of his heart she took with her it grows more and more difficult.

not like he can ever mention these things out loud, of course, lest be bombarded by scandal; lucas could certainly never do that, especially not to avery.

he’s startled by her greeting — a casual hey, one he’d never be able to manage on his own — but also not entirely so; most days he finds it difficult to get words cheerful enough off camera as it is, and while the presence of a familiar face is meant to help him out, her smile and her hair and her eyes, her goddamn eyes do the exact opposite. he pretends not to notice the more muted way she speaks to him, two strangers sharing a secret only they know about; no, he corrects himself, knowing their secret had died long ago. i miss you are the words that first form in his head, but it’s a quiet, polite “hi” that comes out instead, and in spite of himself a small smile adorns his features like a dim bulb.

she’s contagious. so sue him.

the compliment is what gets him flushed, ears a bright pink as opposed to the paleness of his face; he thinks she’s lying, can feel the way his hands begin to twitch in his pockets and how his mouth grows drier by the moment ( side effects of medication, unprescribed ). but he tries to smile through it anyway, offering up a laugh that may sound the slightest bit forced though he pushes past it. “it’s in the genes.” lucas teases; joke’s on you, they wouldn’t feed us anything at all. “though the hair is quite expensive.” a hand runs through sloshy brown and blonde, glancing at the other in modesty, a humble grin, as memories play in his head like an ill-timed slideshow.