take the sadness out of saturday night @chraera
if he is hot, she is cold. if he is the winter, she is the summer; aera has always felt so similar in nature to himself but with just the right amount of difference to them. they’d been raised so fairly similar, being the eldest children plagued with the responsibilities of wealthy family image that everyone looked to for a sign of prosperity. haseok envied aera for her only having half siblings and nothing more. they balanced each other out, called out one another on their bluffs. haseok knew that her image was exactly that — an image. behind the scenes he knew how aera’s mind functioned, how the cogs turned and what exactly set her off, probably because it was exactly how he knew his own existence functioned in the same manner. exactly why he found it easy to never fall in love with her.
even if they’re too old to be attending church with their parents, haseok had learned over the years that it was good practice to still do every once in awhile; it satisfied all of their family friends who only had good things to say about the jin haseok they thought they knew so well — you look even more handsome than the last time i saw you!, i hear you’ll be finishing your residency at seoul national within the next year, i always knew you’d make an incredible doctor. he gloats internally at just how much more successful and appreciated he is compared to his brother and sister, because nobody cares to ask about them and their lives when his, with just the right amount of people skills and slight manipulation, makes his all the more interesting. it has to be interesting, because he’s a jin, and he’s got no choice in the matter.
except now, stuck in mass on an early sunday morning following a late night of partying in celebration of mrs. nam’s divorce and promising his parents he’d be in attendance (never again committing so far in advance), haseok is staring blankly down at a tiny black bible nestled in his cramped church pew. everything about the world is making his hangover even worse: the light from the early morning beaming through the church’s stained glass windows directly into his eyes, the occasional whines from the toddler seated a few rows back. he can only stare at the book in a feeble attempt to disconnect himself from his splitting headache.
mass drags on longer than any other service haseok has sworn he’s been to — probably a direct sign from god. he catches sight of aera once the ceremony has finished and the churchgoers begin to trickle out of the nave and excuses himself from the younger couple his parents had been speaking to, gravitating towards her.
“actually sort of surprised to see you here,” he says once they’ve fallen into step with one another, the droning of the crowd’s voices making his head hurt again. it wasn’t commonplace to see her here, but it feels nice to have a familiar face around to talk to. she looks pretty, made up to look like a sweet church girl, though haseok knows she’s only dressed up just for the sake of appearances.
he leads her over to the corner with an array of votive candles and far less people around to eavesdrop on their conversation. in typical haseok fashion, he gets straight to the point, forgoing small talk that wasn’t necessary. “you don’t have any painkillers by any chance, do you?” he doesn’t register the internalized guilt discussing his hangover in church that leaves his shoulders heavy. he feels scrutinized by the intangible. his voice is low, hushed, but still feels like their conversation is being intruded on.
