moonglow

for a second yuanlan wonders if she said something wrong, but she brushes it off with an easy smile. ‘you know what? we can make it our own thing to come here more regularly! it can’t be easy, moving away from the place you’ve always called home.’ yuanlan can’t help but feel thankful; sometimes she misses her parents’ nagging and their small home, but at least it’s not a whole another country away. for mara, the homesickness that comes in between all the flash and bangs of yosul’s busy life must hit harder.

as mara takes her arm and they walk towards their destination, yuanlan turns her head left and right to fully take in everything. there is a sort of comfort brought by the sight of the busy shops on this busy street. she has heard of the word 'sonder’ - the realization that each passerby has a life as vivid and complex as your own, and she wonders if she is experiencing something similar to this. she relaxes at the thought of being able to soon taste some of her favourite food.

'oh, char siu bao is truly a classic. it has really been too long, honestly.’ upon hearing she can revisit the taste of spring rolls, she smiles. 'well, thank goodness! they’re a blessing from above.’ with a turn, the door comes into sight and it immediately brings a cosy and comfortable feeling upon her. 'it looks really welcoming,’ she breathes out as she pushes open the door. the warmer air inside is a stark but much-appreciated contrast to the chilliness out on the streets. yuanlan scans for empty tables, and is able to easily spot available seats on the side. there is a tiny bounce to her step as she walks over with mara and settles in, contented. she takes out the menu from the holder and leans to take a closer look. 'hmm, let’s see…’

There's a pause for consideration when really, there's no need for it. "You want to?" Her expression is serene, a light curve for a smile on the surface, but those that know Mara know how to tell she'd perked up immediately at the suggestion, eager and hopeful. "I'd love that."

Entering the restaurant, they're greeted with the smell of sizzling hot food, lively din and everything else that makes up a busy lunch hour for the day. She follows suit once the other girl finds a table, weaving through the row of tables, servers, and the low-hung Tiffany lighting before they sit down. 

While Yuanlan chooses her options, Mara waves one of the waiters over to take their orders. A kettle of tea for two appears for starters, and the man jots down the combination special that has char siu bao, spring rolls, dumplings—the standard dim sum fare—before taking it to the kitchens. 

feat. @maracmm

when it comes to curfew, wonsik has always been an expert at ignoring it. ( or any set of rules really. ) the garden near the school is his go-to place late at night, mostly because he figured out how to sneak out without getting caught ( with a little help from a senior years ago ) and knowing the schedule of the prefects’ patrolling hours definitely gave him an upper hand in times like these. 

walking down the familiar path, he takes in the scenery as much as possible, knowing that next day he would be surrounded with people, once again going through another round of boring classes. at least now, there’s no one to bother his train of thoughts ( that’s been scrambled as of late ) and it’s always somewhat comforting to be alone in a place so exposed to the world yet still safely hidden by the concealment charm.

he finds himself sitting in his usual spot when he shivers, the cold breeze making the hair on his neck and arms stand, he was sure of it. he’d forgotten to bring his jacket before leaving his dorm, cursing himself for letting it slip out of his mind. if mara was here—

no, he bites his tongue, don’t go there. the memories might still be fresh in his mind, but he doesn’t want to think about her tonight.

It's a habit she shouldn't have picked up, but like the head and the heart, there will always be that disconnect between what should be done and what is in its place. Roaming around at some graveyard hour is something she'd never committed to on her own (didn't have to, once), but she's restless and sleeping soundly for the night is a lost cause.

Up above: a full moon, obscured by the canopy of trees, light a scattered, silvery array over the dirt path. The shawl wrapped over her shoulders is enough to keep the chill at bay. Her mind is elsewhere, but having trekked through this way so many times there’s little conscious memory involved. 

When she finds the place at last, it’s relief at first, balmy and at ease. It doesn’t last, however. Not when a familiar silhouette cuts into the space, and even if it’s been months since, the realization that she recognizes it at all brings a tightening sensation in the hollow of her chest, a cross between remorse and something all too soft. 

     he decidedly doesn’t like losing. but that itself a given. that’s human nature. competitiveness. he’s held his tongue well enough back home, barely thriving under the shadow of another. well, the proper son. (only son. what was it? you can treat us like your own family from now on, daehyun-ah. bullshit. all bullshit.) but here? within the city of seoul, far away from home, why can’t he be competitive? why can’t he strive for number one? 

     at least, sentiments can be different here. values and morals. even if he wears the age old fabricated persona like second skin, smile carved into the muscles of his face. so deeply impressed that it both feels akin to himself and—doesn’t. 

     ( but what is his and what isn’t his. daehyun doesn’t know the line anymore. doesn’t want to think about it anymore. )

     finds, in itself, passing faces like mara cheng and the challenge (spike of competition and sparks of attraction) to be more fitting to spend his time on. existential crisis and the works? maybe pencil that in for next week instead. 

     “stingy.” his brow quirks, tone accusatory, thick with humor. “i’ll keep that in mind next time you want something from me.” speaking comfortably, there’s at least some comfort in their dynamics; solely lying in the fact that there’s no particular need to act—as if she hasn’t already drawn rough ideas of his personality from the years they’ve known each other. 

     “probably, there’s some good 24-hour places around here.” rolls his shoulders absently to shake off earlier’s stiffness (salty, so salty about losing), slipping a casual arm around thin shoulders when she leans in; ghost of a smile at just how well she fits into him. “mm, okay. i think i know a place. do you wanna walk? or should we apparate?” he casts the night sky a cursory glance at the thought. clear skies, at least. 

Admittedly, there's something enticing about it all—playing right into the question of who's faster, sharper, better, on and off field. Keeps her on her toes and toeing a line like it’s the first time she’s asking for trouble, time after time again, with a Cheshire grin to match. Harmless all around, at the end of the day, and easy to fall into. Easier to do that than to look at all the endless circles they’ve walked around each other. Easiest to dismiss all of the above, and enjoy the quiet of the late evening, the slow measure of their steps.

“Like you'd deny me," she refutes, her voice carrying a wisp of laughter. Mara lifts her chin to meet his eyes, thoughtful and lingering for a handful of seconds before her gaze returns to the winding path. “You’re not that hard to convince.” Pausing, then adding on with a sense of smug self-satisfaction: “Or to beat.”

Her body language says otherwise—hand still tucked into his pocket, curling in a little closer to his form under the weight of his arm, relaxed in a way that’s all too familiar with the feeling. 

“ can you cast a patronus? ”

“ i saw muggle textbooks when i was visiting family for the holidays, and honestly? sure, i could maybe die falling off the stairs if i had a sleepwalking habit, but at least i’m not doing algebra right now. ”

“ do you think a dog animagi could have puppies? ”

“ how did you explain to your friends why you were switching schools? ”

“ sorry, all the other carriages are full, i’m sitting here whether you want it or not. ”

“ i wonder if there are people who can speak parseltongue but with like… bunnies. ”

“ i’m tired, and i want to go to bed, and i’ve been sitting here, trying to figure it out for like an hour, save me: what has a head but no body, but does have a tail? ”

“ what do threstals look like? ”

“ do you ever wash your cauldron? ”

“ trying to sneak into the forbidden section three times in a row is either the most badass or the most nerdy thing you’ve ever done. ”

“ if i go to hospital wing, i have to explain how i got it. i need to solve this with a spell. ”

“ no, i just never realised other people see the carriages being pulled by thin air. ”

“ when did you get the dark mark? ”

“ SOMEBODY CATCH MY TOAD! ”

“ mudblood. ”

“ who was the guy your boggart turned into? ”

“ where did you learn that? ”

“ sorry, but you couldn’t pay me to put my name in that thing. ”

“ do you still have that leaf in your mouth? ”

“ you’re the most injury-prone [quidditch position] i’ve ever met. ”

“ congratulations, head [boy/girl/pupil]. ”

“ imagine being a straight couple right now. ”

“ i’m going to have to fight my parents. ”

“ sorry, is this your owl/toad/cat? [they’re] beautiul. ”

“ do you think you could sneak to the astronomy tower with me tonight? ”

“ i actually haven’t asked anyone for the yule ball with me. ”

“ [name] got petrified, didn’t [they]? i’m sorry. ”

“ have you met the new DADA professor yet? how was it? ”

“ next time [name] pushes you again, i swear to god i’m hexing [their] arse. ”

“ i ate something and now my face is purple. i’m NOT coming out! ”

“ it’s vinegar. i knocked on the wrong barrel. ”

“ don’t look at me like that, i’m just trying to steal your body heat. it’s cold down here, okay? ”

“ how the hell can someone like you be in [house]? ”

“ come to think of it, i don’t think i’ve ever seen a ginger slytherin. ”

“ i didn’t even know i was afraid of heights before i came to this bloody school. ”

“ finding places to cuddle in would be a lot easier if we were at the same house. ”

“ are both of your parents muggles? ”

“ when you said you wanted to go to hogsmeade together with me, did you mean like… a date kind of ‘together’? ”

“ i wonder how many peole have banged in the room of requirements. ”

“ why must the plants sing? ”

“ sorry, you’re not getting the password from me. ”

“ have fun in potions. try not to punch anyone. ”

“ of course i’m fine. i mean, who wouldn’t want to be told they’re going to have a painful, grim death, on their first divination class? ”

“ are all [ravenclaws/gryffindors/slytherins] assholes, or is that just you? ”

“ dude, it was definitely two feet on vampires. how screwed are you? ”

nara wouldn’t call herself an indecisive person. she is quite the opposite, actually. she knew from a young age she wanted to work with plants and worked hard to study it, she knew she liked haneul so when he stopped her after a quidditch game she didn’t let him finish, she asked him out herself. after they were going out for some time she was the one who asked him to date her. so no, hwang nara is not an indecisive person.

this seems to be the most radical thing she has ever done in her goody two shoes life, something nara never thought of before. mara has always been the rebelious one in between the two, the one who comes up with the different ideas that nara is happy to follow along.

she looks at herself, at the darkness of her hair. nara always thought she was a pretty girl. nothing striking, a bit plain perhaps, but still pretty. maybe this is what she needs to feel better about herself now, to go from pretty to beautiful. “okay,” she looks up at mara, smiling. “let’s do it.” there is certainty in her voice when she speaks. “but you promise to tell me if it doesn’t look good?” she knows mara will, that’s what friends are for and mara is the best of them.

From any outsider's point of view, this is nothing out of the ordinary. Dress up, dress down, any changes done in between just one of the many revolving rituals that happen in front of a mirror. The significance of it is only ever felt, not seen.

Heartbreak works about the same way: the aftermath of it makes you wake up and look at things differently, and maybe even want to look different. A cliche tried and true, but it’s less about keeping up with appearances than it is with genuine feelings—if it feels right, then it must be. Simple. 

there is lightness to her steps as yuanlan breathes in the freezing air. she presses her hotteok to her cheek for warmth, and almost feels sad that she has to eat it eventually. honestly, she has always been more fond of summers than winters, of sunny afternoons and trips to the beach — but for some reason, today's chill in the air is refreshing as it enters her lungs. perhaps it’s the hint of spring creeping in; or it could be her body’s way of telling her she should get out more instead of holing up in her dorm revising. either way, she welcomes it with open arms.

she bites into her pancake and sighs in satisfaction. turning her gaze to mara as she speaks, yuanlan is once again reminded of how grateful she is for the older witch when she first joined the team. being one of the few girls on the team, she develops an immediate sense of closeness towards her fellow chinese teammate ( even if it’s just in terms of ethnicity. ) mara has been the calm voice among the rowdy team, the steadiness that gives one the comforting feeling of safety and security. spending time with mara is always a pleasure, so yuanlan is in a great mood today despite the weather.

bakery… cafe… she listens to mara list out various options intently, then lights up at the mention of dim sum. ‘ooh ooh, let’s go to the place for dim sum!’ nothing like the taste of home to put a smile on her face. 

'my family used to get dim sum almost every week, but i haven’t had much time to explore and find chinese restaurants when school started. my dad always says it’s to “not forget our roots”, but i’m pretty sure he just enjoys the food,’ she starts rambling off. 'oh my goodness, i miss the taste of shrimp dumplings and shaomai so much… i do hope they have spring rolls there too. the closest restaurant back home didn’t have them and it’s such a pity, they taste so good.’

"Every week?" She repeats in sheer awe. “I’m jealous!” Her familial unit for over a decade had been just three people under one roof: small, intimate, and terribly scattered. Conflicting night shifts and visits to foreign dignitaries made weekday dinners at home a rarity. Eating out thus became a single-person affair often by circumstance than it was by choice. 

The mention of Yuanlan’s father gives way to a knowing laugh because been there, done that. Since their move to Seoul three years ago, at every chance her own father gets. “I guess he’s not wrong. Either way,” Mara takes the girl’s free arm with a gentle squeeze. “Dim sum it is then.” 

They stroll down the cobbled street, steps quicker, their surroundings growing busier with the tick of the clock past the noontime. Past the warm, fluorescent glow of shops opening late, the distant hum of car traffic, and passersby brushing by, magical and Maeobsa alike. 

“I could go for some really good char siu bao right now.” Thinking about the taste brings upon the nostalgia: tucked near the bottom floors of The Broadway in Wanchai, a small restaurant with even smaller buns, steaming, crisp smoky sweet perfection. “You’re in luck though, they’ve got some good spring rolls there too.” 

                                                                                          — for @maracmm

     he doesn’t recall how this norm came to be. how nights went from studying, gaming, the works to minutes, hours, spent on the field. often alone, usually not. but, daehyun supposes in the grand scheme of things, that itself is normal. how close he dances to the tipping point, then—sought for a means of venting, now. 

     makes sense, right? to let off steam before he blows his lid. reaches the point of a mental break. before the weight of falsities and fabricated smiles and i’m okay’s and that’s fine’s effectively barrels him over. etcetera, etcetera. you know the story. 

     ( you’ll hear this often. because he’ll use it often. this very excuse, cover, reason after another to justify the means of his actions. which is what? you wonder. i wonder. ) 

     his back rests comfortably against cool marble, fingers running through dripping locks while his eyes fixate on the mobile in his hands, occasionally taking an absent note as minutes pass by and the time changes from 9:54 to 10:02. 

     great. his eyes roll. she would.  

     sad, but that’s the repercussions of losing the bet tonight. 19 saves to 21 goals. maybe he was having more of an off day than he would have liked to admit it. “finally.” his eyes lift with the creak of the door, sweeping over the sharp of mara’s jaw. he steps forward then, moves with practiced ease of someone too used to the arrangement (the bet, i’m talking about the bet) when he reaches out, lifting the strap of her bag off thin shoulders to sling it over his. 

     “did you find narnia in there?” his brow arches, nudging them toward the exit. “or at least—an idea as to what you want to eat tonight.” 

     it’s his treat. what was it? second time this week? fuck.

Ending the day how it began—with an ache. The favorable kind that sinks into her muscles, adrenaline subsiding for the residual burn, all telling in how much she’d given it her everything. It’s supposed to be just in good fun, but anything that involves a Jo Daehyun never seems to stay on its intended path.

Luck had been on Mara's side this time, just long enough to toss through two Quaffles more than he could save, scoring a dinner-drinks deal where she won't have to pay a single dime and something to hold over his head all the while.The shower runs a little warmer and a little longer for that reason. Fully aware of how he's being kept waiting, and indulging in the face of it. 

Exiting the locker room at last to find him doing just exactly that only makes Mara look (and feel) all the more pleased, and it only grows as she watches him pull the bag off to carry himself. 

Both questions summon a lick of quiet, coy mischief, thick on the tip of her tongue and oh so tempting to say out loud, but she’s feeling better than that in this very moment, and holds the impulse down.