what you don’t like is helping arrange a party. one thing is to buy something, snacks and beer have never been a problem. but decorating? tolerating that somebody doesn’t like your ideas on lighting? your playlist being rejected last second and a bunch of eminem songs playing instead, courtesy of mark? so many things could go not your way. of course, it’s not your party to say the last word, you were just not in the mood for fighting. with work and family lately, you’ve had enough interaction with energy vampires. you also just made up with yuta after fighting for a week and half about superior waffle topping.

who even likes spinach on their waffles?

“then let me put it another way.” yuta wipes his mouth and leaves a bit of mustard on his chin. he’s so serious when he continues, you almost chuckle. “i need you to come help us before.”

“is this why you suddenly decided to be friends again?”

under the table he hits your foot with his, but you only smile.

“i’m serious. there’s not gonna be many people, everybody’s busy, and almost all of the guys will be with their partners.”

“oh, you don’t want to feel lonely?” you coo and pinch yuta’s cheek. to your surprise, he plays along with his adorable pout. he’s desperate. “fine. but you’ll be my guardian for the night.”

“of course! i’ll be your knight in shining armour, just as always.”

last time your knight was supposed to not let you drink too much but he passed out two hours in party. you had to sober up and drive him home at three in the morning. and they say chivalry is dead.

“who else is going to be there?” 

“johnny, taeyoung, jungwoo, doyoung…” yuta lists, brows knit together as he remembers.

jungwoo. suddenly your strawberry milkshake tastes like shit. yuta searches for any emotion on your face, but on the outside you’re calm. you nod to whatever he has to say, and he has hope that his friends are finally getting along. but just because you don’t want your infantile bickering to get in the way of a celebration doesn’t mean you’re past that.

it all started when you decided to finally give in and meet yuta’s new friends. given that you’ve known each other since the dawn of the age, it felt rather weird to recognise his close friends only from his other stories and some insta pictures you’d found while stalking searching through your mutual friend. yuta kept bugging that “his guys” – gosh, you’d rather he called them real names, one by one – were desperate to meet the only person who can tolerate him tête-à-tête.

your “i don’t know, yuta, i’m not sure” was a consequence of two things. one being that a lot of people who saw you and your best friend together for the first time seemed to get the wrong idea about your relationship. the amount of teasing and physical contact always created an illusion of “friends to lovers” in progress. whenever people start teasing you, there’s no escape. either you protest, and they find it to be a proof of their poorly built theory, or you stay silent, and they continue on, ruining your chances of meeting an actual romantic interest you were very much looking for.

second reason was that yuta had been telling you about them, and his stories always made you remember that he is a guy. just like the rest of his friends. they don’t wash their socks for weeks and keep. wearing. them. they panic and answer “bet” to love confessions because they refuse to learn more about their emotions. they meet up for the weekends and spend days just playing video games and eating take out. when you hung out together, he actually looked like a human being, acted like one. it may had been a mask, but you weren’t opposed to it. but hanging out with a bunch of dudes… yikes.

but then yuta invited you for their dinner out and dropped the magic words, “they’ll bring their partners and some other people will be there too,” and suddenly you weren’t that opposed to the idea.

he never mentioned that their hang out would look like they rented a whole restaurant for the night. last time you had to meet so many people at once was at your new workplace. but if there you had days to understand people, this time you had it until the end of the dinner to form an opinion and deliver it to yuta.

names blended with people’s faces. you could recognise a few people who you’ve seen before on the photos, but it’s safe to say that if you wanted to address someone you had to use the polite “excuse me” and plead for an eye contact so they’d understand you were talking to them.

but jungwoo – him you learned from the start.

he was easily one of the prettiest of the bunch. dark hair falling to his forehead in slight curls, a cardigan to match his soft smile. you melted on the spot. if there was a person that yuta would tease you to no end, it would be him. too sweet for your tooth – just the way you like them.

but then, as always, men open their mouths and disappoint.

“can you scooch a little?” you asked him with a shy smile. yuta sat near the window and forgot to leave some space for you in the excitement of the night. if only jungwoo moved a little, you could take place next to your friend.

jungwoo looked at you, scanning from toe to head, shook his head and said “no can do.”

you were taken aback. yuta snickered, while some girl said, “come on, be a dolly. y/n wants to sit with somebody she knows, let her feel comfortable.” you added a quiet “yes please,” but still got no response. jungwoo instead took a sip of water.

yuta had to playfully push the guy from the couch not to cause a scene and for you to land on the seat you needed. jungwoo wasn’t happy, of course, but you didn’t exchange any words that night.

and thus, it began.

two hours after arriving to jaehyun’s, one hour before the party, your hopes are ruined and you want to strangle somebody. there are two perfect candidates, as jungwoo smirks behind yuta who’s standing between you two, your usual mediator. 

you weren’t supposed to be on the same duties with him, but johnny asked for an exchange to be with his significant other. so you’re stuck together. it started off quite peacefully. you even said “hi” to him, to which jungwoo just nodded, shocked by the fact that you’re trying to build a normal interaction. but then something clicked, and partnering with jungwoo felt like standing under the waterfall of disagreements.

“are you sure sunrise pink lighting is better than neon?”

“y/n, do you really think strawberry punch is a good idea?”

“whatever you want to ask me to do, y/n, is in no way more important than me playing league.”

you were so desperate that you started asking your friends for third opinions. strangely enough, most of the guys sided with jungwoo.

“see? anyone would prefer yellow balloons.” do they even know the theme of the party? you wish you could knock some sense at him. that’s the moment when yuta steps in. jaehyun’s girlfriend does so as well. she comes up to you and pats your shoulder in sympathy.

“i’m sure it’s either bro code, or they genuinely have no taste,” she admits and lands an arm around your shoulders. “i command to do it your way, don’t worry.”

for the record, you’re not always claws and hisses. you’re pretty sure yuta tends to exaggerate when he describes the way you look next to jungwoo. “if zeus ever saw you, he’d be like “wow this chick is angry”.” you try your best to keep calm, but yuta knows well about the way you pat your fingers whenever you’re angry or the way you fix your hair every time you hear something annoying. you doubt that jungwoo knows about some specific habits of yours, but you rolling your eyes is telling enough.

“i’m sorry you ended up with him.”

the kitchen you, jaehyun and his girlfriend are in is really silent, far from renjun and hyuck arguing over their music choices. you sent them a few requests but there is not much hope they’ll play it. jaehyun puts a shoe box in front of you. he’s definitely waiting for a reaction, but you’re not sure what is going on.

“what is it?” you ask, dumbfounded, and open the box.

“the hearts for your ceiling thing,” birthday boy gestures with his hand up. 

“yeah, we thought it’s really cute,” his girlfriend smiles. “take johnny and whoever he wants to tag along. it’s a lot of work and we’re running late.”

her rambling is obviously a sign of stress. she goes through a bunch of decorations on the table before her while jaehyun’s arms sneak onto her waist. “it’s okay, nobody’s on time for parties, it’s so lame.”

you quietly take the box and leave. being so painfully lonely around the couples hurts. especially on valentine’s.

johnny is quick to help, and soon after your instructions a small crowd is all over the first floor making your thoughts reality. hearts of all the shades of red and pink are hanging from the ceiling on strings. heartstrings. one lower, one higher. some of them even reach taller guests – good things johnny isn’t short-tempered or you’d be short on decor. each heart for a thing one may love, together – everything you love about life. of course, whatever meaning behind it wasn’t important, you’d decided to leave your sappy thoughts to yourself when you told the so-called party committee your idea.

and now you get off the ladder and look around the room.

“good job, y/n, it’s lovely.” yuta warned you not to encourage jaehyun’s dad jokes, but you still chuckle and thank him. everything around you is, in fact, lovely. from the porch to the lamp in the corner. romance is in the air, and you’re not even bitter to feel that.

okay, maybe a little bitter. you spent so much time wandering around, you look really cute and you’re already a little tipsy. yet you’re on your own, a lone wolf in a pack full of couples. the atmosphere makes you reminiscent of the last time you flirted with somebody, trying to erase from your memory like just a few moments you said some cheesy pickup line to kun and it landed in silence. you’re not that interested. you’re just desperately trying to not mind the fact that lyrics of the song currently playing are much dirtier than you anticipated.

a small area with refills is your escape. you keep dancing a little while pouring yourself a drink. punch works good enough for you, but then a pair of hands appears next to yours and mixes a strawberry mojito, and suddenly you’re jealous. maybe you could ask the stranger to make you a drink later, you think to yourself. oh, nevermind.

“why did you stay?” jungwoo acts nonchalantly, but he still has to yell for you to hear his teasing. it’s so childish, so much effort for a sign of your annoyance. is he four? “did yuta invite you as his plus one?”

you chuckle. “it’s not like that between us, and you all know it.” 

after a little search through the crowd your eyes land on your best friend, his tongue deep down someone’s throat. they stand under a neon sign “kiss here!” that is a mistletoe of sorts for tonight. an arrow that underlines the words of the sign points directly in between the couple. it would be cute if it wasn’t such a nasty sight. you lean to jungwoo’s side, keeping his shoulder next to yours, and point at yuta and whoever is next to him. maybe you’ll find out tomorrow.

from the top of jungwoo’s tall figure you hear, “yeah, i don’t know why i said that either.”

“and why are you here then?”

you don’t move away. he hates when you’re by his side, and now is the perfect opportunity to tease him more. with a turn of your head you feel how dizzy motion makes you. jeez, this punch is good, and another sip confirms it.

“i was told there’s going to be a bunch of attractive singles.”

jungwoo turns to you too. he’s mixing ice in his drink by slowly shaking his wrist, another hand in the pocket of his pants. the pink sunrise lamp next to you highlights his smirks and half-closed eyes as he looks down on you.

he’s so attractive. or maybe you’re too tipsy to keep yourself collected. both, perhaps?

“so what? you’re disappointed? so far you’re the best looking person here?”

you cringe at the fact that you noticed his “millenial sitcom reference, and what’s worse – you played along. although you agree. lovebirds here act as if the birthday part of the party doesn’t exist, even given a huge pile of gifts for jaehyun near the entrance. and those who are not snuggling with their loved ones run from anything remotely romantic like it’s a threat number one. 

you desperately try to stay on track with your thoughts. jungwoo. teasing. focus, y/n! you look up at your nemesis to see his sight focused on you. if you didn’t know any better, you’d think he’s onto something. 

“well, i’ve seen one pretty cute face.”

for a brief moment his eyes dart somewhere south from your eyes, but he doesn’t let them linger. he’s challenging you. if you move any closer, there'll be no space in between. you feel the electricity between you reach the fingers that desperately cling to your cup as for not to move too fast, not to reach to his neck, not to touch his skin – you’re scared his burns just as much as yours.

“you know, you’re…”

“y/n!”

“no, that’s me, not you.”

it’s the first time jungwoo sincerely laughs at something you say and it’s an awful pun that left your mouth when you hadn’t even given it a thought. both facts skip your mind as you turn to jihyo who just called your name. she asks if you want to dance. you take a step to her, and the tension that you didn’t know was in your body leaves immediately. why stay stressed and do something reckless when you can leave and have actual fun without consequences?

you get back to the table, put your drink down and take jungwoo’s mojito out of his hands just as he is going to take the first sip. you leave before he has a chance to say something to your face, so he says it to your back, and you’re sure it isn’t nice.

you needed a break. the pink light bounced from the walls to everybody’s drunk and/or simply happy flushed face. it made you feel sick to your stomach. not literally, even if you are pretty drunk to feel dizzy and giggle when you feel yourself swaying at place.

you needed a break, especially that since you’ve tried to keep yourself busy but you still felt lonely. people came and left this whole night. without yuta by your side you feel a little lost, but you’re happy that he keeps himself busy. better this, than hot and bothered but by your side.

you lean to the wall. shoulders are comforted by the cold of it, yet you don’t really feel like sobering up. you can’t, it’s too fast, and you don’t want to. a loud and moving crowd feels like a scene in a movie, sped up in front of you, stuck in the same second that won’t pass. you strangely enjoy the feeling, tasting this line between you and them. do they notice that you’re falling?

wait, you’re falling? you only register it when the familiar voice curses, “you’re such a mess, y/n,” he states. and you agree and nod while rubbing in your cheek into jungwoo’s bicep. the cotton of his long sleeve too nice to not immerse into the sensation.

he doesn’t move. he doesn’t leave. he holds you by your waist to not let you fall, and you can feel his fingers perform a nervous tap dance under your rib.

“why are you so nice?” could he hear it? probably not, and you need to update him on the drastic change in his personality. but then a slower song starts playing, you desperately need to look at his face, so you look up, chin on his shoulder. “seriously,” you slur it like you’re talking to a snake, “why are you so-o-o nice and cute tonight?”

your hand reaches his cheek before he can protest. jungwoo ouches to a pinch. “cu-u-ute,” you sing it like a line in a child song. your hand rests on his cheek, cups it, caresses it in a minute. you can feel jungwoo slightly lean into the touch.

damn the mojitos.

of course you don’t think when you do it. you haven’t been thinking for a solid hour already, simply unable to do so. but you do what you want to, even if it’s trouble or pain. you bring jungwoo’s face to yours and brush your lips over his. just a little bit. 

there’s no rush. at the time it looks like there are no consequences either. no past, no future. you don’t care that he’s a big meanie who gets on your nerves. you see his plump lips so close to yours. they are coloured by neon light above you and the dark shadow of your proximity. a knot in your stomach swirls in endless circles, over and over, as you bite into the anxious nougat of anticipation.

jungwoo, once again, waits for your move. and it’s the only time you find it in yourself to willfully please him.

you step on your toes to reach him and jungwoo meets you halfway. breath taken away as his lips are smashed into yours, as you needed a warning or some preparation. he tastes like berries, he smells like the flowers he arranged into bouquets earlier this night. you need him closer, so you grab his collar and brush your fingers against his collarbones. he buries his hand in your hair, bringing you to him just as you wish. every sensation is filled with him. it feels like the finest thing you’ve seen, tasted, touched. you feel your lips crush into each other in waves, overwhelming, inconsistent.

you need some air and for the vertigo to stop. your grasp on his shirt gets lighter, and jungwoo puts you down. you can feel his gaze observing your face. his thoughts were screaming at you, he needed your response. his fingers still ghosted over the back of your neck and your waist, even when you landed back to the ground.

the “kiss here!” sign is pointing right between you. people are looking. you feel sober, jungwoo sees it in your eyes. he lets you go, takes a small step away. so that was it? you almost reach back to him, but keep your dignity intact. jungwoo turns away. you feel so ashamed even though you haven’t done anything wrong. and gosh, what is it with the staring?

you don’t need to excuse yourself to leave. he seems to wait for it. congratulations, y/n, you’ve made a fool of yourself with the last person that deserved your attention.

“do you want some soup?” “i just threw up. not once, but twice. i think i’m good for now. i can’t think of drinking even water.”

yuta pats your head and then lays down next to you. you’re curled up, laying like an embryo in his bed, you pay no mind to his sympathetic look. you slept only a couple of hours after you got to yuta’s and for those hours that you’ve been up you have been thinking about not drinking ever again. your hangover only adds to your embarrassed state.

“you know, i’m here if you need to talk.”

and for the sake of forgetting the last night and your headache you growl “shut up!” while turning to lay on your stomach. yuta strokes your blanket covered back. 

you should’ve thought twice. you should’ve just danced with your friends and have fun, not think about stupid kisses and stupid wishes to be with somebody on valentine’s day. you shouldn’t have been so desperate for that somebody to be the guy who barely pays attention to you.

“i know you like him.” yuta is not helpful either. you turn your head to him, eyes peeking from under the blanket. “how come?”

“the day you met him i saw your eyes glistening when you looked at him. you don’t find that many guys attractive so i just put two and two together. and then he tried sitting next to you, and you got so riled up…”

“yeah, because he didn’t let me sit next to you, dummy.”

yuta laughs quietly. there’s not enough light to let you see him closing his eyes as in disbelief. “he liked you too. the guys weren’t sure at the time whether i actually don’t have feelings for you or just pretend. i can hear the sound of your eyeroll.” you snicker as annoyance leaves you at his little comment. “so he wanted you all to himself, to get closer to you since he thought you were “fine af”,” the hand he pats you with leaves you for a second to make quotes in the air. “he’s awful when he tries to flirt on purpose, and then he couldn’t just admit that he failed.”

you shuffle in the sheets and move closer to yuta, letting him under the blanket. “thank fuck, i got so cold,” he admits as you put your head next to his shoulder. “how are you feeling?” “awful. and i hope he does too.” “according to his poorly written texts at four am, he’s suffering.” “good.”

you want to wine out loud about being too stubborn and too unlucky, but your head feels like it’s about to explode from intracranial pressure. the softness of the sheets reminds you of jungwoo. the flowery scent of fabric softener does so too. it seems like everything tries to bring out the memory of him in you. and your only wish is already not coming true, since the scene of the kiss brings out the feeling of his berry bited lips on yours.

“why do you seem so fresh already?” 

“cause i can handle my drink.’ the smug look on his face changes to a one full of pain once you pinch some skin on his forearm. drama king. “and i only drank what ten was making, he’s really good.”

“i should’ve too. jungwoo’s drinks turned out to be a recipe to throw up,” you admit. yuta pats your head again. it feels so nice, like big brother’s guiding gesture that you appreciate and don’t want to stop. for once you feel safe from other mistakes, as long as he’s with you.

“yeah, i forgot to warn you. don’t let your little crush give him the benefit of the doubt when you two start dating.”

“yuta, you’re ridiculous,” your whining only brings out the smile in his voice.

“yeah, don’t drink his so-called cocktails even when you date.”

he’s probably not even teasing. a heartstring reaching from the place yuta holds in your heart tugs in some other place you haven’t yet discovered. but you’re not in a mood for new adventures, thus retreat is the best option.

“i hope i didn’t ruin a moment between you and that person you met.” “don’t worry, i took their number so it’s fine.” “oh, a possible date?” you put as least seriousness in your remark as possible, but yuta smiles back in a “maybe”. there’s enthusiasm slowly creeping through your body as you think of your best friend potentially having romance in his life for once. “tell me everything!”

listening to yuta’s story of the night, you don’t notice the way your phone lights up behind you.

MEAN BOY: “can we talk?”

wind chimes at the front door of the coffee store sends shivers down your spine. you find yourself anxious about any person passing by your table. lofi playing here doesn’t distract you from the drum solo you perform on the edge of your table with your restless fingers. your eyes are glued to the window, searching for a familiar figure and hoping not to see it at all.

this is embarrassing. when was the last time you were so nervous to meet up with a boy?

you’re fifteen minutes early. yuta said that jungwoo consciously chooses to be late, but you couldn’t help it. you had to leave as soon as you got ready and gave yourself a pep-talk in a mirror. a calming walk to the meeting place was a must, but your uneasiness turned it almost into a sprint. thoughts about your future conversation keep your mind busy and unsettled. there is no way you can settle on what to say. 

should you be angry? sad? stuck up?

“y/n,” jungwoo calls for you when he stops at your table. your mind is blank.

he takes off his coat and sits down, looking extremely gorgeous in his turtle neck. it makes you want to examine his profile as he waits for his order, to write a whole paper on how black clothes compliment his features. curls fall gently to his forehead. did yuta reveal your secret liking to this hairstyle?

jungwoo turns to you. he doesn’t try to cover up the awkwardness between you two by a smile or a small talk. his hands keep travelling from under the table to its surface and back to being hidden. he sighs from time to time so desperately, it makes you almost smile how impatient he is. but his eyes don’t leave yours. you try looking away, and then come back to the awaiting gaze sending you sparkles.

“i liked the party. and i liked the kiss.” your eyes immediately get dryer from how wide open they are. jungwoo’s smile slowly creeps to his features, and he shyly looks away. finally. 

“straightforward, just as always.” you find that keeping the attitude towards him is much easier than meeting him halfway, but jungwoo doesn’t like it one bit. he looks back at you and quirks his brow. your humph of discontent makes him only prouder, ready to eat up the honey of your confession. “fine. i liked it too.”

“and i like you, y/n.”

the noise around you two dies out. you’re so focused on jungwoo that everything around him turns into blur. his eyes are honest, smiley with actual affection. it takes you so much effort to get back from the seventh heaven.

“i swear to whatever i believe in, jungwoo, if you’ll make me regret this…”

“just say the damn words, y/n.”

and it’s so easy to go there again.

you breathe out, “i like you too,” and his smile grows bigger. he’s sure satisfied with himself. jungwoo leans closer to you, leaning on his elbows. 

“see? wasn’t that hard.” he taps the tip of your nose. he stays this way, closer to you, almost right in front of you, almost waiting for you to get closer as well and smooch his face. 

“you also could’ve admitted your feelings much earlier, but i guess it wasn’t as easy.”

and he so wants to throw a tantrum. he wants to argue and tell you that he could’ve, to come up with some reason behind his blind stubbornness. it’s just that he can’t look away from your face being so close to his.

until the waiter comes with your orders. two identical lemonades. as soon as the waiter leaves, jungwoo pulls a straw out of his drink and puts it into your glass.

“it’s not a milkshake.” you still try your best not to play along, but it gets harder.

“semantics,” jungwoo shrugs it off and takes a sip. “so, shall we choose february fourteenth as our anniversary? or is it too cheesy and we’re not like other couples, so post valentine’s?”

“who even said i’m going to date you?” 

your hand on the table is suddenly covered with his. “oh baby, you so will.” jungwoo winks and gets back to leaving you with no drink.

“bin-ah,” you whisper and caress his cheek. it’s admirable, how fast he’s able to fall asleep, with just a minute after his — third! — alarm. he scrunches his nose at the poke into his cheek and hides his face in the pillow.

“what?” his answer is grumpy.

“you have to wake up.”

soobin pulls you closer to him by your waist, making you bump your face into his chest. you chuckle as he turns his face and looks down through his eyelids. “yeah, and it sucks.”

his voice is husky, but whiny, and it adds up in cuteness to his pout. you smile wider, and he reflects your smile mumbling “good morning”. you start rambling explaining why you need to get out of bed. soobin barely listens, he’s too busy, lazily tracing his fingers over your slightly puffed features. you yourself are not stocked about leaving the bed, so, once you’re done, he pleads, “one more minute?”

and you give in because of his still sleepy gaze and his warm hug. 

YEONJUN:

you wake up under yeonjun’s body, as per usual. it doesn’t matter whether you were touchy before getting together with him or not, you had no choice but to accept this side of him. and honestly, you don’t mind. you grew so accustomed to the weight of his body, the welcoming press of it, that now the bed feels empty without it. 

you stretch your limbs a bit, and yeonjun, still snuggling his face into the crook of your neck, whispers something incoherent. he sometimes does so without even waking up, so you don’t pay no mind and just put your arms around his back, bringing him closer. however, he puts his head up, in the process tickling your chin and lips with his messy hair.

“what time is it?” he asks, and you shrug.

“dunno, but it’s bright outside already.”

yeonjun nods and puts his head next to yours, foreheads almost touching. he makes his body slide off of yours and follow his head. yeonjun reaches to you, breaking the sleepy haze, and grazes the tip of his nose over yours, reaches your lips with his for a smooch.

“i lo-o-ove your stinky morning breath,” he mumbles into your lips.

“i lo-o-ove your nest-like hairstyle,” you copy his manner and leave him satisfied with teasing and another kiss.

BEOMGYU:

you’re glad to admit that beomgyu has been tamed. it was impossible to sleep with him before, he would take up the whole bed in his star position, and chances were high you’d wake up on the floor. but now you wake up to him spooning you, and there are no complaints on your side.

instead of the alarm you wake up to his tapping over your arms. he’s humming some melody you can’t distinguish, maybe it doesn’t even exist and gyu does it simply because. tossing in your sheets, you turn to him, and gyu covers you both over your shoulders with a duvet, bringing you closer to him underneath it.

“your alarm didn’t wake you up,” he explains, looking into your eyes. he’s almost rubbing it into your face: even he’s awake, and you’re still drowsy. “also, why did it ring so early?”

“i wanted to do some extra work before getting ready.”

“was it urgent?” gyu asks worriedly. you shake your head slowly. his features soften immediately. “okay then, stay here for a little more.”

even if it was urgent, you wouldn’t dare him to know. beomgyu, with his morning warmth and sunshine-like smile, is worth staying in bed.

TAEHYUN:

it’s a surprise, to see taehyun in bed when you wake up. he’s usually the one to get up early, to do this long and well thought out morning routine, to greet you with the smell of the coffee from the kitchen.

but today you open your eyes, close them because of the bright light in the room, open once again – and there he is, on the other side of the bed, still in his pajamas, looking at you. the sight is unusual, but not unwelcome. you scooch over to be closer to him, and your current look – hair a mess, hiding under the sheets, taking your little moves in his direction – makes him audibly laugh.

“you should’ve seen yourself just now,” he admits with an admiring smile and welcomes you to his embrace. when you reach for his lips, you’re met with a fresh smell of toothpaste and facefoam. and here you are, with sleepy eyes and probably some drool in the corner of your lips too.

“i should go wash my face too,” you say yet you don’t move.

he’s whining, “no-o-o, baby, don’t go-o-o,” because he knows you don’t actually want to leave. you chuckle and snuggle closer to him, so he wraps his arms around you.

“what were you doing before i woke up?” you ask, and he opens his mouth to answer but you cut him short in a sudden revelation. “were you looking at me while i was asleep?”

taehyun smiles. he prefers to be less obvious in his admiration, but sometimes he just can’t help it. with red shadows of embarrassment over his skin, he smiles. “the man you make me, y/n,” his ironic heavy sigh mixes with your laugh. being romantic is in his nature, he doesn’t even have to try.

HYUKA:

“and then, when taehyun and i met up, you disappeared! we thought that godzilla got you. honestly, i kind of gave up halfway looking for you-”

well, now you’re awake.

“gave up? if that is your dream persistence, what would you be like in real life?”

“this whole dream i was running away from giant monsters in slippers, cut me some slack please.”

younger grades tend to be loud and gather everyone’s attention, so seniors are often quieter, observing the chaos around them with a young wise smile, knowing so much yet so little. this is the main reason why you saw someone you'd never seen before near the entrance. she didn't seem tense, in fact, she was quite fine for someone in this unfamiliar setting. small, but brave. your eyes were on her until the teacher came in, and even freshmen quieted down.

in a few minutes dahyun was already sitting at the piano, showing off her skills to get into your band. for all the years you’d been in this band there had never been a decent pianist, but she was more than that. with each passionate note you admired her more and more, wishing you, with your gentle little flute, could be just as virtuous. 

“you are probably tired of introductions by now,” your teacher hinted, deserving a small purse of lips, “this is dahyun! she will absolutely be joining us,” another cheeky remark, another small smile in polite response, “and we carry on from the same piece we did last time. everybody ready?”

up until the clap of your teacher, letting you all go, you were sloppy and out of air. she left you breathless. so skilled that you replayed the image of her fingers on the keys over and over again, barely hitting the right notes. her side profile did a great job of distracting you too. 

that day dahyun became the person you wanted both to be with and, simply, to be.

every week you saw her at a rehearsal, your bio class and at p.e. no matter the time or place dahyun was always collected, her calm smile was, to you, a sort of armour. whenever you glanced at her you were desperate to see this demeanor crack, because it seemed alienating that someone can be this nonchalant to so many changes in their life. dahyun was pretty good at studying and finding new buddies, and she was amazing at music.

one look at her could make you feel unsettling. there was something that kept whispering into your ear that you could have been better, smarter, more studious and diligent. countless minutes were spent until dawn at the rehearsal room, staying behind and practicing the same piece over and over, until the pads of your fingers were sore with hurtful effort. in a year the flute could be forgotten at all, why do you want to try so hard?

one day, right before the rehearsal, you were unpacking your flute when dahyun set next to you. at first, she was looking everywhere around, but not at you. you didn’t even feel conflicted about staring at her in bewilderment, so used to dropping glances at her profile. what you didn’t expect from the girl was her turning to you with her entire figure and looking into your eyes as if she does it as a hobby, as a habit, as her special little routine. she was blooming while you were far from ease.

“you’re y/n, right?” you gathered all of your pride and smeared it with courage. “i’m dahyun, we share a couple of classes.”

“yeah, i know.” with your cautious tone you hint that it doesn’t explain this behaviour. 

“i love the way you play.”

almost against your will, you felt eyebrows knit, confused. is she mocking you? if so, she’s an amazing actress. dahyun’s eyes were sweet, smiley, smothering you with reassurance. her truth was something you were not prepared to hear. for some reason, cautiousness felt like a set of clothes you’d outgrown.

“do you want to hang out sometime?”

and this is how you end up in whatever it is you have with dahyun. you feel too ecstatic by her side to ask questions. whenever she brushes her arm over yours or looks at your lips you freeze and hope that she will actually touch you. you are getting spoiled with her attention, basking in it, but the time flies, and sometimes people can’t wait.

she’s still dahyun that you admire. she records her playing and sends it to you, so you listen to the recordings over and over while falling asleep. you admire her mind and her soul, almost putting it onto a pedestal that you make unreachable. the admiration you have helps you grow, yet almost stops you from being you.

one day she sits next to you before the rehearsal and says that someone asked her out. no playful tone, no joyful smile accompanying her words. it’s just as sudden as that one time, months ago at this point, when she decided to get to know you. and now you feel like you are about to lose her again.

“did you agree?” you are not scared to show your worry. dahyun looks like she doesn’t notice it, but shrugs in response.

“i said i’ll give my answer later today.”

and then the rehearsal starts, and she leaves to go sit by the piano, as this trombone guy plops next to you like nothing is sacred to him, even your potential broken heart.

your fingers are jelly when you hit the keys, mind playing on the autopilot. all you can think about is how now she's not the girl you only admire from afar. after so many chances given to you, are you still going to be too scared to leave your shell? still thinking you’re undeserving of her presence?

“what do you think?” she asks you. you two are staying behind, everybody else has already left. your heart is pounding so loud, you barely hear her question. “should i go out with them?”

your lips are sealed. who are you to stop her? it’s the first time you see her in this weird, angular shape of something that resembles dahyun you know. she awkwardly fixes her glasses and grabs her bag, walking out of the room fast. you barely have time to realise your own cowardness.

truth be told, you are a little nervous. it’s been a while since you attempted ice skating, and doing it in front of many people at the wollman rink is nerve racking. your eyes are fixed on the ice before you, white under the flickering feet of many other visitors, but, once yunjin squeezes your hand, you immediately feel better.

“her, eyes on me.” and now the rink is your playground.

new york is surprisingly warm in winter, but white christmas still blesses you with snow. swirls of it are gentle, from time to time landing on your skin some snowflakes that yunjin desperately wants to kiss away, so they melt with her touch. but, for now, she focuses on the task ahead of her, which is you, recalling what it’s like to skate. did you trick her? because one moment you can barely straighten up, and the next thing she knows is you are far away.

as the christmas soundtrack plays along your steps, you leave her side. step and step further, until yunjin catches up. “you wanna play?” she asks, a challenging smirk playing with you. before you master a response, she skates away, a bit awkwardly, almost losing her balance. she turns to you with a loud laugh, and your breath is taken away. joy looks good on her.

christmas markets show you a side of yunjin you have never seen before. it’s a place where she truly thrives, feeling like one of her own kind. she knows how to handle people and prices, it’s almost as if she’s a different person. you want to make a funny comment about it, but when you get some trinket for price twice as cheap you only giggle “thankyouthankyouthankyou” and hug her arm. 

“you could use this energy at our markets too,” you add, happily looking around.

“yeah, but i lose this superpower once i leave the borders of the city. are you sure you need more?” she nods at your new souvenir, a small snowball with the rockefeller tree in it. “one more, and your bag is not leaving with us.”

she’s not wrong. you already have a bunch of postcards, fridge magnets, polaroid pictures, keychains, t-shirts… and probably something else. but you are optimistic, as always.

“we still have your suitcase too.”

you bat your lashes. yunjin pouts. it’s a battle of two equally strong forces, so the only way out of it is for someone to give in. and yunjin does it first. with a roll of her eyes, she turns away, but is quick to look back at your victorious smile. 

“oh, let’s get that too!” spotted: your next victim, a christmas mug with a tree inside it and some corny christmas pun on the outside. yunjin follows where you lead, because she’ll do anything for your smile.

in the stillness of an early winter morning, when it’s yet dark outside, when the world is in no motion, you two sit under the big christmas tree in her living room. lights are on, so sparkles in your eyes are present not only from happiness and adoration. empty boxes and wrappers are all around you, on the floor, as you stay sitting in this mess with a happy smile. they are the evidence of your christmas morning.

this christmas is different. it’s not about presents or rest, it’s on this christmas trip that you remember the sole purpose of this holiday—love. family love, that engulfs you the moment you step into their home. the love for fairytale, mystery, beauty of secrets and intrigue. your love for discoveries that was collecting dust in the attic of your mind.

and, of course, yunjin’s love. she showers you in it every moment you two spend together, and not to see that you love each other one must be blind. you breathe in her perfume that is everlasting, even when she’s in her pyjamas. she’s toying with a deer figurine on the tree, but then catches your eyes and giggles.

“what did you wish for?” “you nosy baby,” you sigh as she beams into your face.

she always asks you this on your birthdays, and you never reveal. why would she think you’d tell now? truth be told, looking at the spark in her eyes, fully devoted to you, it is on the tip of your tongue, but you are determined to keep your secret.

“it won’t come true if i say,” you boop her nose.

“or you tell me and i will make it true for you.” you hide your shy smile into the kiss on her lips, tasting like milk and cookies.

there is only one wish you could make: her. yunjin in your life is all you wish for. admit that—and you won’t hear the end of it, so you keep your mysterious demeanour.

when the wind is insufferable, people hide at home, in cabs, in diners and shops. you look at the empty streets, filled mainly with snow, snow and even more snow. the limit of the five inches promised by the forecast is definitely surpassed. yet, you couldn’t be happier.

you turn your head to catch yunjin staring at you. “you like what you see?” a cocky question was not expecting an earnest answer. yunjin nods and beams.

“you look like you belong here.” “in new york?” she nods again. “or maybe by my side.”

you two squeal at the corny line, but stop quickly, looking around and noticing people stare. despite the morning, the coffee shop is full of people seeking refuge. breakfasts became your favourite time of the day—the only one you are unable to spend together back home. but here, yunjin is always next to you when you wake up, when you brush your teeth, when you munch on your cereal or even go out for a meal. it’s like she’s glued to your side in the most comfortable fashion.

you love that she’s showing you this city. fancy and simple sights, small cozy streets and grand ones, with the most famous christmas decorations in the world. botanical garden, museums that you’ve always wanted to visit, parks and alleys… and all of it with her.

now it’s your turn to stare. munching on her breakfast, finally finding that rest of hometown she’s dreamed of for so long. her serene eyes make you believe that this trip will last forever. and, in your brightest, happiest dreams, it seems like it. in those dreams countries and cities can change, but yunjin stays with you until salt and pepper hair. 

“you like what you see?” yunjin crosses the road of your imagination, stopping dreams at the green light. you nod, just like she did minutes ago.