so let's love

hey everyone! i’m here with eden han, photography nerd, band nerd, just a nerd loser in general... with a passion! he’s a photography major, loves to take pictures of many things including the people around him, easily inspired. chances are if you’re a friend, you’re in his dslr camera gallery. president of the photography club! he’s also a pitcher in the baseball team. what else, what else... right, he’s also a guitarist. a guy with a lot of hobbies. if he seems familiar, then shhhhhh.

here’s his profile page! bio pages are overrated (read: i did not have the time to make one) so i’ll be listing things about him under the cut. i’ll also make a plots page... one of these days! if you’re interested in plotting, please like this post and i’ll crawl my way into your ims (i also have twitter/discord upon request) ♡

SUJI !

     she had debated for a long time on whether she wanted to record this game today. part of her really wants to, just because of the nature of the game is almost guaranteed to be funny. but another part of her kind of just wants to have fun with her friend, so she decides not to make it a youtube video at least. she’s pretty sure all of her friends are well-aware that everything is game for tiktok if she manages to catch it on camera, but suji also tries her best not to mix her online life with her offline life too much. 

     she doesn’t want to become one of those people who makes social media their whole life, to the point where it’s a hinderance in other people’s lives. she would hate to do that to jinwoo, considering they live together, and also any of her friends. 

     either way, this day should be fun. and she’ll have instagram stories to prove it. 

     “no, i’m not recording it but if it’s as funny as i think it’ll be, i might consider getting more friends around to try,” suji says, a mischievous grin on her lips. she can’t even pretend that she doesn’t want to do this again, but eden was the guinea pig for the first run of this game—possibly inspired by the hit game genshin impact. 

     “okay so,” she pauses for dramatic effect, gesturing at all the food on the table. it ranged from proper, actual hotpot ingredients, meat and seafood, to some weirder things like gummy candy and what looks like it could be an actual branch from a tree. either way, she needs to explain the game. “so you can put literally anything from the table into the pot … then we take it in turns to close our eyes,” she raises some eyemasks to use a blindfolds, “and taste it. if you guess what it is correctly, you can go again and whoever finishes the meal with the most points wins.” suji pauses here, thinking. “i don’t think you’ll get poisoned, really, but there’s some wack stuff on this table.”

all that eden could comprehend from suji's short ( and admittedly not very descriptive, but to each their own ) exposition regarding the game that may or may not ensure eden's survival for the day was that, essentially, he's serving the role of suji's trial run for whatever game they're playing. he does a sage nod, small and understanding, albeit slow.

"so you're telling me that i'm your experiment for today," he concludes without a bite, simply stating things as they are; matter-of-factly. if anything, he's amused. "if i make it alive after this, you'll be doing this with other people?" he doesn't need suji's verbal confirmation to know that is the next step of the course. "will you let me choose one of the people you pull this on?" he has a few suggestions of names.

his eyes fall onto each ingredient—there is definitely a rather interesting lineup here, some more confusing than others. eden picks up the branch, eyeing it closely. "okay. so what i'm getting is that there's a chance i could get a bunch of splinters on my tongue. got it." he lets out a short chuckle, because that's a funny image, but still painful.

— i’ve got your back ;

backdated to april 2022 with @kwxeden !

     it’s been almost a year and a half since the fateful day that had changed his entire life. almost a year and a half and there are still good days and bad days. there are good days when he feels almost normal and he can go back to light training for taekwondo, though there’s no way that he can hold the poses and move in the way he did before the accident — not yet. there’s still a lot of core strength he has to rebuild before he can consider that kind of possibility. 

     there are bad days, where movements make soreness evident, and everything he does feels like an overextension of injured muscles. but still he persists, because one of the worst things to do is to let his pain dictate his movement for the day — it’s better for him to slowly work his way through the pain and push the boundaries so he can adjust. 

     but then there are really bad days. days when he wakes up in the morning and can barely even breathe with how much everything hurts. even the smallest shift causes him pain, and the most he can do is lie in bed and try to get through the day. 

     today is one of those really bad days. his eyes blink open and he can already feel the throbbing in his back, and trying to roll over onto his side sends a wave of pain so intense through him that he clenches his teeth in an effort not to cry out. he squeezes his eyes shut, resigning himself to the fact that he simply won’t be able to go to class today. apologizing to his professors in his mind, he closes his eyes again, giving back into the only thing he can do today — sleep.

throughout his life, eden has met a lot of people to admire. even within kyungwon itself, he'd run into individuals who shine in his eyes. if he were asked to name one of those people, the name seo hayun would undoubtedly be formed on his lips.

getting the obvious out of the way first; eden has no intention of romanticizing the hardships his roommate had gone through. no one should have to suffer what hayun had, he won't make a sob story out of what is hayun's tale to tell either. but he does look up to hayun's resilience, his determination to keep pushing forward regardless of the obstacles in his way is certainly something eden could learn from. aspire to implement in his own day-to-day life.

unfortunately, it's never that easy.

eden doesn't want to impose. even though they're roommates, he doesn't want to force hayun to rely on him. however, he does keep a watchful eye whenever he can, make sure nothing is amiss. the least he can do is clean up their shared space on a regular basis so that hayun is able to move around a little easier.

on tougher days, he'd notice that hayun is taking longer to wake up than usual. clearly, that's not a good sign.

so eden stands before hayun's door and knocks a few times to alert the other of his presence. then, he twists the doorknob and opens it, immediately spotting his friend on the bed. "good morning," he smiles, making sure that it is a greeting and not one laced in pity—hayun doesn't need that from him.

for some reason, a question like this coming from jun's mouth doesn't surprise him in the slightest. he pauses for a moment, as if he's actually thinking about it seriously, accompanied by a short hum of consideration. only after he made the other wait long enough in torment does he decide to say something.

“that’s a good question. my guitar that has been with me through all my roughest moments... or one loud and needy junyoung.” he lets out a troubled sigh. “this might be the hardest question i’ve ever received in my lifetime.” of course, he’s only saying all this in jest.

who: @kwxeden what: (it’s raining) cats and dogs when: late evening, a weekend where: east wing dorms

this was the last straw. gyuri clenched her jaw, nostrils flared, picking up the bat she kept in the corner of her room for self-defense.

the thrumming that was travelling through the hall of the east wing couldn’t even be drowned out by the howling wind and crackling thunder outside of her window. she couldn’t even stretch in peace without feeling the vibration of chords through the floorboards.

no matter how many times she left passive aggressive notes (signed with a smiley face) on her neighbor’s door, he kept up with his daily strumming of his guitar, regardless of the time of day. what made it even worse was the fact that she was pretty sure some of those losers’ song lyrics were about how much of a massive bitch she was (but for now, that was only conjecture).

she pushed up the sleeves of her jacket, stomping down the nearly empty hallway, and impatiently rapped on eden’s door with the handle of the bat she’d brought.

“keep it down, han,” she grumbled, fighting the urge to knock his nameplate off of its place on the door. “i don’t understand how you can make so much noise when you’re so tiny.”

during sleepless nights, eden's guitar would call out to him with the sweetest voice, entice him to reach for its strings and let its sounds vibrate against the walls. most of the time, he gives in.

that comes at the cost of his dormmates' sanity at times, but eden is usually too engrossed in what he's doing to notice. he's apologetic when he notices—unfortunately, he usually doesn't. that might get him in trouble on of these days. case in point: tonight.

he hears (hard and insistent) knocking coming from his door, the only noise that got him to stop playing so far. a second after, a familiar voice reaches his ears—the same person who had been leaving notes on his door. eden doesn't mean to ignore them, he does read them, but he gets too carried away once he starts so those notes are the last thing on his mind.

"tiny?" eden repeats, a bit taken aback, enough so that he stands up and walks towards the door with his guitar in tow. he opens it swiftly with one hand, meeting gyuri's eyes with his own, a flicker of protest within them. "i'm not that tiny. at least i'd like to think that."

clearly that's not why she's here. eden looks a little apologetic, it's not his intention to disturb the night. but still. "sorry, sometimes inspiration just hits you when you least expect it." he has been doing this every night though so maybe that's not the best counterargument.

( ... )

     the price to pay when you have a busy schedule though he isn’t really upset. large crowds are not really his thing so he much prefers this. helping clean up and being out of the way of everyone. he even waved off the help from a couple other baseball team mates. telling them to go have fun while they have the chance. he didn’t mind being the one to get it all put up. didn’t mind the muffled noise in the distance as he worked in quiet. finally managing to gather all the baseball gear into a box and start off to the storage.

      maybe he should have paid closer attention to what was happening. glanced at the end schedule for the festival or listened when someone was talking about it. he would have been prepared for the startlingly loud noise that rocks the area. the box in his hands almost dropping as he flinches. 

to say that eden had been nervous about the performance of his band would be an understatement. they’ve done a lot of gigs, but the stage they have been entrusted with this time was much larger than he had presumed. who was he kidding? of course it would be, the performance after theirs is literally an established idol group. somehow, being reminded of that fact didn’t make it any better. eden does like the idea of loving losers receiving the recognition he believes they deserve. his members, at the very least, should have their talents shown to the world.

as they stood before the crowd, mic merely inches from his lips, the strings of his guitar at the tip of his fingers—the realisation dawns on him; there are plenty of eyes and ears. a part of him considers closing his own for a little while, but that surely won’t help him in the slightest. so within that small timeframe he has to prepare before they turn on the spotlights, eden searches through the sea of people for one face in particular. almost like instinct. a habit that never seems to cease, no matter how hard he tries.

then, eden finds him, just like he always does. cory stands a little far off, as usual—but he’s there, a sight for sore eyes; a dim light within the overwhelming dark. somehow, eden sees cory. amidst everything that’s happening, whatever they are now; cory is watching him.

somehow, that fact alone is enough to calm his nerves, allows his lungs to expand and take in another breath, gives him the chance to recuperate. there’s that underlying feeling of guilt poking at him all so suddenly, telling him it’s wrong to take solace in cory’s presence when such a concept isn't mutual anymore. but eden thinks just this time, he’ll take what he can get.

besides, this is enough. seeing cory, knowing that he’s there—even if cory decides to leave before he finishes, or if all this goes through one ear and out the other—he can pull out every single flicker of emotion, the memories he had in the back of his mind and in the gallery of his cameras, all that they were and all that they aren’t now, weaving each aspect into the first song that they’ll be playing.

for a small moment, nothing short of four minutes at most, he can pour it all out for cory. like he should have long ago. like this is the chance he never took. just one song. he’ll say it’s his messed up way to ease his nerves, dedicating a single track to someone familiar instead of an intimidating crowd of strangers—but he’s also indulging in a desire he had been suppressing.

what cory doesn’t know won’t kill him. and all this? cory will never know. eden will stuff this instance into a pandora’s box of his own, not to be opened even as he ceases to exist. he doesn’t know whether cory can see the smile that’s playing on his lips now, a little melancholic in nature, accompanied by the slow melody and woeful lyrics, not tearing his gaze away from where cory stood. if cory noticed, it won’t be something they'll address.

and so the performance continues, moving onto a more upbeat rhythm—but that first blunder was enough to keep him steady on his feet. yet again, cory aids him in ways cory wouldn’t be able to comprehend himself. eden thinks it’s selfish of him, but he’ll make up for it by asking for nothing else. his band’s turn ends without a hitch; eden hears loud applause that he’s more than happy to share with the other members.

soon after, the concert begins. and then—boom. the fireworks follow. the loud and sudden blast of sound ringing through his ears jolts out a memory from the depths of his subconscious. an image of someone familiar, someone that he had just been looking at, crouching down with his ears covered.

cory.

it had been so easy for eden to drop whatever he had been doing ( which wasn’t even important, he had been done packing some time ago and was just listening to the concert from a safer distance ). he doesn’t hesitate when he begins tracing cory’s steps, aware of the other’s routine. if he’s remembering right, and eden trusts his memory if nothing else, then cory should be making his rounds to clean up.

and cory, never wanting to burden anyone else but himself, would be all on his own. subjecting himself to noises that terrify him with no one to ground him. maybe eden is acting out of place again, maybe cory will hate him even more for trying to break through the walls cory placed between them once again—but eden will live if cory despises him. on the other hand, eden won’t be able to face himself in the mirror if he had left cory completely and utterly alone.

so he runs; he chases after the shadow cory left behind.

the fireworks are already on full display once he reaches his destination, going off one after the other. even here, it’s loud. eden wastes no time in opening the door, albeit gently, not wanting to add salt to the wound. within this dimly lit storage room and the noises blasting against his eardrums; he finds cory, just like he had done earlier.

“cory,” he says, somewhat out of breath, but gentle despite it all. he closes the door behind him as he approaches, taking light steps. he doesn’t need to ask ‘are you okay?’ or ‘need some help?’ now. eden can already tell from a single glance—so instead, he takes action. he steps before the other, making sure that his face is within view. even if his own presence may not be as comforting as cory’s is to eden’s, he hopes seeing someone else here helps.

eden takes out his earphones, setting his phone to play a specific playlist, the same one that he had shared with cory all those years ago. whether cory remembers or not isn’t what’s important here. it doesn’t matter if cory realises that eden hadn’t deleted a single song, nor did he abandon it—this list of songs that he’d play for the other, the same one they’d listen to together, that he’d hum to cory as they sat idly by each other’s side. as if they were in their own little world. a treasure that he holds closest to his heart.

mustering his best reassuring smile, one cory would often see back in the day, eden lightly places both earbuds into cory’s ears, replacing the deafening racket with tender music, sweet and soft. eden gradually raises the volume just enough, not too high and not too low. for good measure, his hands remain pressed against cory’s ears.

this is the most physical contact that they’ve had in months. eden wonders, another selfish thought, whether cory can feel the rising tempo of his pulse. once again, he’s thinking silly things.

noah jung is certainly a character. overall, the boy is a good friend and a tender soul; just a little wild at times—not anymore, though. back then, he was. eden would know, considering the times they’ve messed around. maybe there’s something that eventually cuts the reckless string of actions first-year students would get themselves into once their second-year hits. if that’s the case, eden wonders when it’ll be his turn. he’s already in his third-year but nothing has changed ( some would even say he got worse down the line ).

okay, so it might just be a noah thing. somehow, that’s even more concerning to think about. luckily for the other, eden’s not one to pry. he simply goes along with the flow.

that doesn’t mean noah lost all his fun, of course. honestly, that feels pretty impossible. chaos comes by regardless but in different forms this time. like now, when eden’s trying to get noah to pose for him in front of the colourful backdrop of the photography studio. unfortunately, noah decides to make it difficult for eden by stretching his limbs outlandishly or winking too much. as much as he loves these pictures, he can't use them for his projects.

“can you just pose normally?” he groans out after yet another failed attempt. “this isn’t for instagram, noah!” despite saying that, he has to hold back a chuckle when he takes a peek at the result of his captured image. “if you keep messing around i’m gonna have to take drastic measures,” eden warns with a pointed finger.

why did eden ask for this guy’s help again? right. because above all noah is still a friend, and noah is pretty photogenic too. plus, bonus point: they’re both in the photography club! which should make this much easier, or so he thought. those are the three traits that eden considered carefully before making a decision. does he regret it? not yet. he hopes he won’t.

“do i have to get over there? you don’t want me to manhandle you just so you’ll pose correctly, surely.”

currently texting with: @kwxeden​

( to eden ) i’ll die hot ( to eden ) probably in every sense of the word but haha ( to eden ) that’s a discussion for another time!!!

(  ✉  )     outgoing   →   mochizuki rei  !

snap wars | @kwxeden

the little asshole is looking at him again.

perhaps moonbin is being a little unfair, eden isn’t really an asshole; he is short though. he’s not even sure eden’s looking at him or just around him, it’s hard to determine with the lights at a party ambiance level. regardless, it looks like he’s looking at him. moonbin knows he’s at a good point on the cuteness scale, having received many fan letters during his skating career raving about how cute he was and comparing him to multiple different manhwa characters. he doesn’t let it go to his head despite using it to his advantage to learn how better to showcase himself in routines to rev up the crowd and fans online. tldr: he’s kind of cute, and maybe eden agrees.

his phone lights up where it is balanced on his forearm as he pours himself another mixed drink, light on the juice packet and heavy on… whatever it is that was on the counter. instagram. the wheels in his head start turning, which usually wouldn’t be a good sign for anyone else if asked. once he’s done at the counter of whoever’s house this is’ kitchen, the surface either actively wet or sticky where it once was wet, he sits on one of the couches. when he looks up he makes eye contact with the other boy once again. his plan solidifies in his head and moonbin is proud of himself.

subtlely, he opens the app and ignores the multiple notifications waiting for his attention. he tilts the phone and snaps a photo of the boy looking in his general direction before he can notice and look away. quickly tapping and adding a comment, he posts it to his public story with “oh you wanna kiss me so badly, huh?”

maybe it’s a bad idea, but moonbin isn’t one to think about consequences unless they relate to his career. it’s fun, and moonbin’s ready to have fun and not worry so much about things. stress is so tiring and he’s tired of limiting himself.

he balances his phone on his leg, swirling his drink to mix it again so it’s not just alcohol on the top. looking back up to check in on eden, he sips from the red cup with a smirk.

eden has met a lot of interesting people throughout his life. choi moonbin, a tumultuous force that he embodies, is one of them. they’ve known each other for a while now, at least long enough that eden would be able to pick the other out from a crowd of mindlessly swaying bodies. moonbin’s current features, considerably more distinct than most, make it even less of a challenge. and tonight, just like any other night—eden finds moonbin easily, his gaze falling upon the boy the moment he caught moonbin within his sights.

he doesn’t mean to stare, not at first at least. he was simply looking around for familiar faces, then he was trying to make out what drinks were on the counter from this distance. something tells him all his unsubtle staring is getting under moonbin’s skin though; a gut feeling that he trusts in because he’s already familiar enough with moonbin. knowing that fuels eden even more, merely encouraging the playful fire that’s always simmering inside him. this silent game that he’s playing—he’s not sure what it is exactly, but it’s sparking something between them. even though it’s subtle, even if eden’s doing nothing but look, expression void of anything out of spite ( and to annoy moonbin more, of course ), he can sense that it’s working.

it’s not like eden knows what this will lead to. but he wants to find out, so he pushes as much as he can. besides, the best things are unpredictable. oftentimes, moonbin is exactly that.

eventually, moonbin is moving, fishing out his phone and doing—something with it. eden observes, noting down the way the boy is holding the device, as if angling it to capture a certain picture—oh, okay. duh. it’s eden. moonbin seems to be typing away now, which has eden a little suspicious. once moonbin is looking back up at him with a smirk evident on his face, eden knows that he needs to find out the source of that mischievous look.

the first thing eden does is open instagram, which turns out to be the right choice. he sees that moonbin has updated his profile with a new story, which definitely wasn’t there before the party started. that’s enough evidence for eden to click on it, only to be met with his own face; confirming his suspicions. reading the caption it was accompanied by, eden snorts. typical.

but two can play at that game. and eden will. he’s not one to back out from a challenge.

eden returns to the dashboard of his instagram, ready to post his own story. he pulls up his phone to the right angle, fitting moonbin’s figure into the frame. he does it quick enough that he can catch that sly smile moonbin is graciously showing him, even if it’s peeking out from behind the red cup. it’s visible enough, in eden’s eyes. when it’s his turn to add a caption, he writes, “paying attention to me tonight? we can do more than just kiss, you know.”

publishing it to his public story, just like moonbin had, eden can’t contain his own smirk from forming on his face, breaking the blank expression he had been trying to keep, a crack to the monotone look he had perfected for a while. but that’s okay. maybe letting moonbin know he’s enjoying this will only make it all the more fun. whatever it is they’re doing.

haunting with @kwxeden

yohan rubs at his face, exhaustion clearly written in every line of his body. but as much as he wants to do nothing more than lay down and sleep, he knows he can’t. he has a big project due in a few days and the melody of his assignment haunts him, stuck in his head but seemingly just out of reach for him to actually bring it to life. he’d gotten frustrated earlier after hours spent logged in front of various open windows of music samples and programs on his laptop. and after sitting hunched over, he’d gotten up with the intention of walking down to the convenience store for a drink or snack. 

but he hasn’t made it that far yet, instead he’s been wandering the halls of the music building for a while now lost in thought and humming to himself. every time yohan thinks he’s managed to pin down his melody it escapes him again, leaving him to almost cry in frustration before stubbornly gritting his teeth and continue his pacing in hopes it’ll come back to him again. 

but as the hours race by it’s nearing 3 am now and he’s so tired that he might actually starting crying soon if he doesn’t lay down and rest. lucky for him though the halls are pretty vacant and it’s safe to say he’s probably the only one left here, which thank god because the last thing he needs is for someone else to see him like this. with his hair messy and sticking up from hours of running his fingers through it that paired with his favorite black hoodie that practically swamps his frame (which is saying something) and a ratty pair of sweatpants that are his softest pair. he’s literally a solid definition of stressed university student but that doesn’t mean he wants strangers to perceive him this way. 

as yohan turns another corner, he nearly walks straight into an open door that he swears was shut a few minutes ago. 

it isn’t a rare occurrence for eden to bound himself to one of the music studios once late hours rolls in. inspiration strikes at odd hours during the night, and he had made enough racket back in the dorms. enough that one of their resident assistants visited him to ask—no, plead, for eden to tone it down a bit ( as it turns out though, said individual likes the music he makes, so eden still counts that as a win ).

regardless, here eden is, another late night spent all alone—or so he thinks. although it’s mostly drowned out by the melody that’s coming out of his own guitar, he can faintly pick up the sound of footsteps pacing through the hallway. back and forth. over and over. eden doesn’t do anything for a while, surely he isn’t the only student who’d abandon dorm curfews and still insist on staying out for a little longer. if when he blinks it becomes 5am all of a sudden, then that’s not his fault. on the contrary, it’s the fault of the flow of time. not eden.

the racket outside the door doesn’t cease though, continuing with seemingly no end. now, eden has a feeling he knows who’s doing all that incessant marching. back when he was none the wiser, he almost considered the idea of a real ghost haunting the halls of kyungwon university’s music building. however, he realises that isn’t the case when he’s met face-to-face with a living and breathing body, pale in colour only from lack of sleep and not because this student had actually risen from the grave.

still. it’s funny to call choi yohan a ghost, deeming him the phantom of the music department. so when eden sets down his guitar and swings the door open unprompted, giving yohan no warning, he greets the other with a; “hi, mister ghost. haunting the hallways again tonight?” teasing like always. there’s a small quirk on his lips, amused with their constant ‘accidental’ meetings.

he notices the bags under yohan’s eyes, the exhaustion clear in yohan’s features, telltale signs of sleepless nights. eden had been there, he understands. deciding to be a little less of a mischievous brat, eden widens the gap between the door and its frame some more. “wanna come in and sit at least? i don’t think stomping around will help you much with whatever it is you’re trying to do.” he’s concerned, of course. whenever they run into each other under these circumstances, yohan always looks close to death. figuratively.

out of reach.

Starter for @kwxeden !

Hansol’s addicted to the feeling of a heavy bass vibrating through his veins—from the tippy-tips of his toes, to the ends of his ruffled hair. He loses himself in the music, as if every part of him gets swept out to sea and torn apart by waves of synths and guitar riffs, yet it’s peaceful, as if he’s returning to where he came from; a full circle of life. Where the music ends, he begins. 

He can feel it now, a tingling beat in his fingertips as he dances with his arms over his head, eyes closed as he sways. The heat of bodies swaying and bouncing around him envelopes him in a warm embrace, and he finds his mind wandering from it’s comfortable, empty fuzziness, to thoughts of Eden. He thinks of his embrace; something he’d come to grow too familiar with. He must be here, he thinks, eyes flicking open to scour the room he’s stood in. 

He’s not sure how long he’d been stood there in the middle of the crowd of dancing people, or even who’s party this is, all he knows is that he’s not holding a drink anymore, and that he wants to find Eden. He doesn’t know if Eden came to the party, but he’s determined to look for him at least, just in case. Maybe he’ll even pick up another drink as he makes his way through the house. 

Every room’s packed, filled to the brim with people—some in pairs, making out in dimly lit corners, some alone, drinking, or dancing, or both. This is where Hansol’s grown to feel comfortable. His hunting ground. It was at a party like this that he’d met Eden, when he’d stumbled upon him in his eagerness to get away from an overly touchy guy Hansol had no interest in. But where was Eden now, when Hansol needed him to save him from his own loneliness? 

Eventually he finds himself with a red cup filled to the brim with some dubious liquid, wandering along a corridor, and as he turns the corner at the end he spots him. Eden. “Edie!” He calls out. The rug beneath his feet feels as though it carries him along the hallway, stopping right in front of the man that’s lingered in Hansol’s mind all night. He wobbles a little, and lifts a hand to grip Eden’s bicep, steadying himself with a coy smile. “I’ve been looking for you. Did you… come alone?”

one’s life as a university student will, at some point, lead them to a senseless party of wonder. whether it be on their own accord or because they’re dragged in by the insistence of their circle of friends, there’s a clear path towards the rowdy yet congenial gathering that usually culminates in hangovers and drunken stupors. back then, eden thought he wasn’t the type to go to parties, always figured he was someone who prefers to listen to music in the comforts of his own earphones or the music studios.

like every student who wants to get along with new friends though, he had been brought along to a party. come to find out, it’s not a bad experience at all—it’s fun, all things considered. the more alcohol he got into his system, the more mind-numbing it becomes. eden had always been a deep thinker, so he appreciates the chances where he could just turn off his brain for once. at least enough to forget a few things, even for a moment, even if he knows he’ll regret not remembering once morning rolls in.

for now, though, he’ll do nothing but enjoy himself. stop thinking about anything and just feel. whether it be the rush of beer burning his throat, the boom of music drumming against his ears, the anticipation and warmth of a body against his—every bit of sensation that can light his skin on fire, to indulge in someone else; anything other than the thoughts that flood his active mind.

as if on cue, he hears a familiar voice calling out for him, noticing a nickname that only one person ever uses ( and he doesn’t mind it at all, because he finds it cute ). eden doesn’t need to turn to know who’s approaching him, even as an arm loops over his own. he tilts his head slightly, catching sight of hansol himself, the corners of his lips quirking upwards once he had confirmed the other’s identity.

“hi, hannie,” eden greets in return, voice gentle amidst the loud bass blasting through the speakers. but hansol is close enough, he’s sure hansol can hear him. “i came with a couple of friends, but they pretty much ditched me. probably because they found their eye candy for the night. can you believe it?” he fakes exasperation when in reality he gets it. it’s the reason why a majority of the people here attend these parties in the first place, other than to get blackout drunk.

noticing his friend stumbling slightly, struggling to keep upright, eden decides to let hansol lean his weight against him, wrapping an arm loosely against hansol’s waist. acting as support. “you seem tipsy already,” he notes with a light laugh. “you said you’ve been looking for me? well, i’m right here.” unable to contain his urge to tease, always the devil of temptation, eden pulls hansol in a little closer. “do you need my services again, or do you want me this time?” he asks in a whisper, right to hansol’s ear.

the door to dorm room opens an haeun raises her head from the chair she had been lounging in. to clarify, it’s not her dorm room that she is in but instead she was loitering at hayun’s place. which also means it’s edens place–the very person she was waiting for. sure, she could have just waited for him at the band room or like texted him to see if he would meet up. but she was planning on meeting hayun today anyway so she just loitered around until eden showed up. 

luck was on her side as the older boy was the one to step into the room. a wide smile over took her face as she sat up and waved at him. “heeyy hey, surprised to see me?” she questions as if she doesn’t end up in here relatively often. it makes sense though as hayun is her brother and @kwxeden is someone she has been friends with for a few years now. a good friend to have in the music scene and just in general. 

“i wanted to bring you something~.” she hopes she sounds vague and mysterious, maybe even a little cryptic. because the thing she is going to give him is kind of cryptic anyway. she’s already given one to jun and now it only feels right to give one to eden too. “so you know how i have picked up crochet recently?” 

life is full of surprises. whether it be good or bad is usually up for debate.

this applies to the people eden has met so far, too. haeun, for example, is a force of turbulence that he wouldn’t trade for the world. even though she cost him and his band a rhythm guitarist, they managed to find a replacement pretty quickly. besides, he likes having her around. one of the perks to befriending haeun is that it’s never boring with the younger—oh, and eden isn’t the youngest in his own friend group anymore, which he used to be prior to meeting the girl.

to top it all off, through haeun he got to meet hayun. a gentle soul, a supportive brother; which makes him one of the band’s biggest fan. they wound up becoming roommates at one point, and it has been smooth sailing since then. the two siblings are precious friends to eden, so when haeun comes by their dorm room for a surprise visit without notice, eden merely smiles in greeting and lets out a fond sigh. “not really, to be honest,” eden answers. “kinda expect you to just be here a lot these days.”

eden closes the entrance door behind him and wanders over towards where haeun is, taking a seat before her with a quirk in his eyebrows. “coming from you, that doesn’t sound suspicious in the slightest,” he replies, sarcasm clear in his tone of voice. he was about to jokingly ask whether haeun came by to tell him she caused another band member to leave once more, only for her to mention crocheting. surfing through the files of his memories, he does recall haeun talking about picking up a new hobby.

closed starter for @kwxeden!!

it isn’t the first time that subin is awaken in the middle of the night because of a loud sound of a guitar, but it’s the first time that someone knocks on his door to complain about the noise and that’s why he feels like it’s time for him to do something about. before he thought that he was the only who was bothered by it or even that it was just a one time thing— that eden made the noise to soon after realize what time it was and would understand that perhaps trying some chords in the middle of the night while the rest of the dorm was asleep wasn’t the best idea. but then it happens again and then one more time and then—

subin is very aware that he has his character design class first thing in the morning even though a part of him knows that this won’t take long. after all, it’s just a simple warning— friendly even because the animation student was never one for stern scoldings anyway unless he deemed it was extremely necessary, since subin has the understanding that all of them were grown up adults so he didn’t feel the need to play parent on them — and honestly, considering the experience that he has with those, he doesn’t want to, so a lot must be done before subin can really start getting angry and having that feeling leaking to his duties as a resident assistant.

that’s why he’s knocking on eden’s door now, himself being mindful of the hour and making sure it’s only loud enough for the person in the other side of the door to hear. subin can’t help the yawn he lets out while he waits for the door to open, crossing his arms in a way to curl on himself because in a way he also can’t avoid being a little selfconscious about the fact he’s the only soul awake in the middle of the hallway and subin only perks up when the door opens and his eyes falls into a familiar face.

“hey,” he greets the other with a small smile despite it all. “just wanted to stop by to remind you that it's—” subin takes his phone out just to check the hour before looking at eden again. “exactly 2:12 in the morning. as much as your music is amazing, it’s a little less amazing when everyone is trying to sleep, ok?”

///

when it comes to music, eden has learned one thing: the mind of an artist never sleeps. come to find out, inspiration strikes when the night is at its darkness, or when he can practically hear the faint sound of someone’s alarms going off to signal 5am. which means he only has 2 hours to sleep left, unless he has 8am classes. sometimes, he wonders whether he’s lucky that he’s able to wake up early in the morning regardless of when he sleeps. at the end of the day, he's still a morning person. he’s just inspired by the silent quiet of the night; the tranquil atmosphere that surrounds him causes the gears in his brain to turn.

eden tries not to be too loud, especially because his roommate is right there, someone who he knows needs his rest—but still, eden doesn’t want to let that bout of creativity slip past his fingers so easily. he sits out in the living room of their shared dorm space, strumming to the chords that are forming in his head, humming along softly to the tune that he’s producing at the stroke of midnight ( or later, he hasn’t been paying much attention to the clock ).

admittedly, he also hadn’t noticed how loud he was being. eden is careful to be plucking the strings of his guitar gently, or so he thought. turns out, that may not be the case, because he’s greeted by the sound of a knock at his door. it took a while for him to register the noise, glued to the process of making music that he almost missed it. he hears it though, so he stands up to walk towards the door—with his guitar still in hand, because he feels setting it down will cause him to forget the melody he had been playing.

peeking through the peephole, he can see the familiar face of one of the resident assistants. which probably means eden is in trouble. instead of pretending that no one’s home ( because no one would believe that when he had been playing the guitar and he doesn’t want to run away from responsibilities ), eden twists the doorknob and opens the door. despite knowing he might get a scolding, he still greets the older with a small smile. to his luck, subin is smiling too. maybe this won’t end in misery.

once subin drags eden back to the reality that yes, it is 2am, no longer just midnight—he looks a little apologetic. “is it that late already? i didn’t realise,” he admits, letting out a short sigh. “it’s just... sometimes, okay—oftentimes, i get hit with inspiration at the glorious time of past midnight. and then, i have to play it all out or it won’t feel the same.”