—ᴀʟᴀɪɴɴ

He looks away as the other looks over him. He knows it’s obvious he’s been crying. Hell, he’d been crying barely moments before. He was lucky his tears had stopped now. He sniffled and rubbed at his red nose, knowing it was still drippy from crying so hard. 

He let out a laugh as the men mentioned fish. He hadn’t thought of them to be honest. He’d just come here because it qws quiet and he could be alone. But was he really out here to be alone? Some part of him wanted someone to notice him to console him, just like now. He could already feel himself more at ease already. He rubbed his eyes as he smiled at the man. Such a kind person to go out ot his way to make him happy. That was something that Jongdae valued very much. 

He smiled slightly, an eyebrow raising up as the other laid his head on his shoulder. He was always a guy for only a limited amount of skinship, yet when he felt that warmth of another person on his shoulder he couldn’t help but feel more relived. His heart started to bubble with sadness and happiness, all at the same time, starting to overflow like a boiling pot put to high. He sniffled and rubbed his nose as the man spoke, his voice vibrating into Jongdae’s body. 

“One way or another, huh?” He said softly, recalling all the other ways he’d tried to rid himself of the grief. The bottle of vodka, the street fights, the sleeping around. All things he’d done to try and numb the pain in his chest. Some worked for a little bit, long enough to last a little while in the real world… Others barely any time at all. They only left him more broken. He thought of how Minseok would bandage him up and how Piper would kiss him. He sniffled and wiped his eyes, trying to block out the pain again. Focus upon reality. Minseok was dead and Piper was in America. 

“You might be the last person to judge me, but many of the things I feel sad for are secrets I must bear on my own or suffer the chance of burdening others, or worse, endangering them.” He looks out to the water. It almost looks like it’s dancing or crying as the wind blows over it, making it ripple. The animals swim peacefully as children play across the pond, trying to catch frogs and fish. They were innocent. They knew nothing of the vampires and werewolves and ghosts that Jongdae almost encountered daily. “Tell me, if you know your secrets might make someone worry for you more, worry for their own lives, would you tell someone? Someone you care about and don’t wish to leave?" 

He sighed and looked to the blue sky. He’d already said too much. Any more and he might endanger this stranger. Who knows what this man’s life was like right now. He might have a family, or a fiance. He might even have a child for all Jongdae could know. If he told him anymore, everything this man knew might fall apart around him. 

He sighed once again and noted how blue the sky seemed today. 

He understands the need to suffer in silence. Sometimes, it feels like people just won’t get it. Nobody knows what you went through better than you do. And that’s the human experience in a nutshell. Typically, that’s why he puts everything into his writing.

Still, when there are thousand bricks on your back, it doesn’t hurt to have someone take a couple off.

It’s an interesting question. Something that should be considered carefully. There’s weight to it, and the answer will be heavy, too.

To think, this started out as a normal, quiet day.

“That’s not quite fair, is it?” He sighs. “Everyone’s first instinct is to protect the things that they want, sure. You want to keep someone around, someone you like - but that doesn’t factor in to what is best for the other person. Or what the other person wants.”

He starts picking at blades of grass and ponders his own predicament. He’s only really close to one person, so he’s not the best springboard for interpersonal questions like this. But he’d want that person to know if there were something going on; something that would effectively put one or both of them in danger.

“They would deserve to know about it. Even if it ends up driving a wedge between you. If they love you, they’ll stay... That’s what love is, isn’t it? It’s a choice to be with someone, knowing that they’re exactly what you want and what you need. And when bad things happen, you fight to get through it together.” That sounds dumb. “It sounds stupid and too romantic to be realistic, but it’s the closest I think I can get to what it is.”

The man next to him is somehow both relaxed and stiff at the same time. There’s something about secrets that always puts people on edge. He’s curious, to be honest, to hear what his companion has to hide. But he’s not going to press on it because it’s not his business, after all. Still...

He tosses a stone into the water and watches as it rippled. A sigh escapes his lips as he stares out into the pond. The fish scatters at first but slowly came back to swim around the surface. Why did they return? He watches them as they swam and nibbled at the ground. He was tempted to just walk into the water and sink in. It wouldn’t be as if he could kill himself in it. He’d probably grow gills or just pop out. 

He shakes his head and slaps his cheeks, staring down into the water. What dark thoughts. He’s above that now. He may feel depressed over their loss, but he won’t lose to the grief and pain. He keeps looking into the water, trying to cheer himself up but soon his eyes burn and water. 

Tears fell and his shoulders dropped again, sniffling and staring into the water. It hurt, to think of them, to wake up sometimes, to move. He was getting tired and in so much pain he couldn’t handle it. He tried not to cry, but the tears came. At least he wasn’t sobbing in public again like when Minseok first died. At least he could think that without letting out a cry to. 

His hearing picked up movement near him, so he pulled his feet tighter to his chest and hide his face in his knees like a child. Yes, immature, but he wasn’t the type to cry in front of people if he could help it. He hears rustling as he lifts his head to look and is bombarded with the color and smell of flowers. He blinks before looking to the other as he speaks. His mouth slowly opens, no words escaping, just staring. 

He slowly takes the bouquet, looking down at it as he tilts his head. It was the kindest gesture head experienced in a while. he cradles them in his arms as he thought out his words. 

He can't really help this stranger get over it, but he supposes he can help by listening. It's the least he can do. He tries not to stare.

"I'm not a professional," he starts, "But I'm not sure sitting out here and crying to the fish is going to keep you from hurting."

He rests his head on the other's shoulder and he knows it's a bold move for someone who's never spoken to this guy before, but he also knows that physical contact with pretty much anyone at all tends to ease the pain a little more. He wouldn't do it otherwise.

"Usually you've got to get it out of your system one way or another, and it'll take a lot longer just crying about it by yourself," he sighs, folding his hands in his lap, "So would you want to talk about it with me? I'm probably the last person to judge you for being sad about things."

There's something soothing about helping other people. It's easier to work out the problems of others, and he knows that he can't be helped, himself. It brings about a sort of secondhand pseudo-relief that lasts for a good few hours and keeps him going until he gets to wherever he needs to go. It's like the high from your favorite drug, except the comedown is crippling and leaves him locked in his room for days.

After he’s sure that the redness on his cheeks has faded at least a little, he turns toward the other to look him over in his newly donned outfit. He’s taken aback briefly by just how much the other had done in a couple of minutes. Somehow Tae had gone from relaxation night to runway model at a breathtaking speed. However, his surprise fades when he realizes that this probably happens all the time before he goes out for him to look as good as he usually does. "Well damn. If I could make myself look that nice in that amount of time I could get twice as much done in a day," he jokes. 

"Yeah. The place with the good drinks." When Taka notices that Tae is slipping on his shoes, he stands up from his seat and strolls a bit closer to the other. "That’s good, yeah? If you wanna go somewhere else, I’m up for it. I just asked the last guy I saw what the nicest restaurant he knew of was."

At the compliment, he laughs. Usually he just goes out in a shirt and some jeans, so this is about as good as it gets, and happens pretty seldom. "I think you're probably biased. But yeah, you just might."

He grins, taking the other's hand in his own when they're close enough for him to reach. Normally, he's not good with human contact. He doesn't particularly like touching other people, but even sometimes just a simple brush of their shoulders together on a crowded street is enough to remind Taehyun that he is alive. It's a reminder that everyone else is, too. And he likes to know that Takahiro is here, with him, and existing on the physical plane instead of his imagination.

"Yeah, that's good," he says, smile softening fractionally. He doesn't know much about the restaurant either, just that they're a more expensive than the others around here and supposedly have pretty good food. Of course, it's not a requirement to dress up, but most people he sees heading inside do anyway. It was probably a good idea to do this. "Thank you."

He grabs his coat and closes the closet door. It doesn't get slipped on just yet, because he prefers to gauge the temperature outside before he decides to commit. And then he tugs Taka towards the door.

When his full first name comes out of the other’s mouth, his face twitches a little bit in slight annoyance and some other emotion he can’t quite place. “Don’t be so formal, idiot, you know you can just call me Taka.” Had it been anyone else using his first name, he probably would have elbowed or punched them and given a warning that using it again would result in getting their thread cut if he was feeling like it on that particular day. Usually, people stuck to Taka after that, but he lets Tae slide, because he might enjoy hearing it just a little when it’s Tae’s voice that’s saying it.

"How am I supposed to find it if you don’t tell me what cabinet it’s in?" He asks as he makes his way farther into the kitchen, opening every cabinet until he finds the one Tae had mentioned, with a glass vase and a couple of other fragile items behind its doors. His next stop is the sink, where he fills the vase up with just enough water to keep the flowers living for a few days, or so he thinks.

The list of skills he’s obtained over the years does not include keeping things alive, so he’s really not sure if there’s enough water or not. The vase is filled up about a fourth of the way, so Taka shrugs and pulls the paper off of the bouquet and places it in the water, attempting to be gentle with the flowers like the younger had been. Unfortunately, he fails after a couple stems break on the opening of the vase because they stick out a little too far and he decides he really doesn’t have the patience to be gentle. 

The younger sheds his pajamas quickly, discards them in the hamper to be washed another day, and opens his closet. He doesn't have much in the way of formal attire, but he doesn't want to dress down and look bad. He wants to look lie he's worth Taka's time, and all the effort he's thrown into the evening. It's a subconscious desire, sure, but the compulsion to dress up is still there.

He doesn't have a suit, hasn't had one since he was a kid and needed it for something or other his parents had been doing. He doesn't recall it very well. So he's going to have to make due with what he does have; black khakis (slim fit because he's a twig and he doesn't like baggy pants), a white button-up, and a black vest he'd forgotten he even had. A search of his sock drawer unearths a simple black tie that he can't exactly remember how to wear.

After dressing himself he flips his collar up, slips the tie around the back of his neck, and just leaves it be for now. He'll figure it out later.

A quick glance into his mirror tells him to remove the almost-forgotten clips from his hair, and he combs his fingers through in a vain attempt to get it to settle straight. Better than nothing, at the very least.

"I know," is the first thing out of his mouth as he reenters the living room, and pauses to put on his socks. "But that doesn't mean I don't want to. And I like your name. It suits you."

He goes to find his shoes with upturned lips. They're in the hall closet instead of next to the door, because he doesn't have much of a reason to wear oxfords on the daily. Usually he sticks to his sneakers for convenience and simplicity.

As he steps into them, his eyes flicker up to observe Taka sitting at his chair. He's infinitely glad he saved and closed his draft, because he really doesn't like anyone, even Takahiro, seeing his work before he's finished with it.

Unfortunately, Taka’s never had very good manners, and this is only proven further by the fact that he’s just shown up to Taehyun’s apartment unannounced and demanding that he accompany him to dinner with no previous mention of these plans. The idea had come to him about an hour ago and he figures that he probably should have called Tae right then and asked if he was busy, but who really has time for frivolous tasks like that? He’s always heard that an element of surprise does do some good on some occasions, and he finds himself hoping that this is one of them. 

It had only taken him about thirty minutes to get into a suit and make himself look presentable; then it had taken him about thirty more minutes to find his keys and make his way to the younger’s apartment, most of that time being allotted to the aforementioned task. As he stands in the doorway with a quite expensive assortment of red roses and other flowers, he sincerely hopes the other doesn’t decide to say no now, after all of the effort he’s put into tonight.

"I made reservations at that fancy place down the street. Figured you’d like it." A small amount of pink tints Taka’s cheeks and he feels a bit embarrassed, but he tries to make sure not to let it visibly affect him too much. "C’mon I’m already dressed up and everything. You don’t even have to put on a suit or anything really." He brings a hand up to rub at the back of his neck, "You look alright in whatever you wear usually."

A good bit of research had gone into the planning of tonight as well, since the number of dates Taka has ever been on are few and far in between. Usually the farthest he goes with anyone he meets is the bedroom, maybe the kitchen if they’re lucky. He’d searched everything to make sure he was going about asking and making plans correctly, but he would never admit it, because even after all of that research, he’d still barged into the other’s door making demands as if he were some sort of burglar.

Still, he’s got high hopes for tonight. He wants it to go better than any of the one’s he’s been on before, which usually end in someone’s thread getting snipped or serious aggravation at the amount of sarcasm and lack of manners Taka has. So far, Tae seems to be able to put up with him pretty well, he assumes. Otherwise, he figures he would have had the cops called on him a couple times.

He opened it to find Taka. Instinctively, he stepped aside to let the other man through. And now here they are.

He's a little surprised, to say the least, and doesn't register just what Taka is wearing until he takes a moment to process and really look at him. He feels his mind racing into overdrive. He's nowhere near prepared for a date anywhere that demands anything so fancy.

And, oh lord, he's got flowers. The writer hates flowers, but he finds himself taking them anyway, gently into his hands, as if afraid to do any damage to the fragile petals. He observes the stark contrast between the roses and the orchids for a moment and wishes he could put something so pretty down on paper in his words as easily as nature created the bouquet in his hands. His eyes slide up to meet the other man's and he's not sure whether he should laugh or frown. Instead, his eyebrows knit together and he tries to form words.

"Takahiro, I'm not... This is really sudden?"

As he thinks about it, the scenario becomes all the more laughable. He's known Taka for a while, now, and he's always been like this - brash, without thinking of the consequences. Things will either go his way or they won't go at all, really. Taehyun has always admired his confidence. Seeing him now, uncertain and shy, is funny.

It's enough to draw a small smile from him.

"There's a vase in one of the cabinets in the kitchen you can put these in," he says, handing the flowers back to the shorter, "I'm gonna go change."

"I’m not sure I’m worthy of that little article adjective there just yet, but I am T.O.P. Well, I at least think I am. Maybe I’m delusional." Another smile finds its way onto his visage, except, this time, it’s bigger than most of the smiles he’s ever given. 

This is a huge moment for Seunghyun, and he’s not really afraid to show it, because the author he’s idolized for so long just admitted to being a fan of his own work. He really feels like hopping up and clapping in excitement, but he decides to resist the temptation. “I cannot believe you like my works. Excuse me, I might need to brush up on what to do in case of a heart attack.”

"You are, trust me," he reassures, before placing his cup to his lips again. It's about the only way he's able to cover part of his face and it keeps him from saying anything stupid, which kills two birds with one stone. He manages a small smile, however, at the last joke. He's not sure he was ever taught how to handle cardiac arrest, so hopefully, it doesn't actually come to that.

He watches as the shop keep makes for the door, slightly confused. Is he leaving? No, too early for that. At least, he thinks it is. He downs the rest of his tea and moves to get up again, before he sees the sign is turned around. This draws another quiet chuckle from him and he gives a small, crooked smile.

"Indeed it is. I suppose that means we're free to go out, then."

He climbs to his feet and sets the cup down on the table, before wiping some nonexistent dust from his jeans.