#jellyniework

a/n. the reader is a y2k baddie who is independent woman, I used feminine y2k style reader for a baddie but anyone can be a baddie no matter the aesthetics <3 Hoshi loser tendencies are inspired by his lovable charms and that Sana interactions, I am sure he has game...sometimes

The time when seventeen members have off-days are usually spent away from each other, or in much much smaller groups and pairs, resting without the group’s characteristic of loudness and actually taking a moment to enjoy solace and little sense of peace that comes only when you are alone. That usually is the norm, they spread out, some even leaving the county, visiting families and some even simply disappear to who knows where with a simple message of assuring they will be back. 

But when you grow up with twelve other people and share almost anything it comes to a weird sense of dependence on one another, an itch that even the quietest members have after a while, to come and be assured that everyone is fine, everyone is still the same and that connection is still thriving. And Hoshi was one of the not so quiet ones, despite keeping bits and pieces of himself tucked away for a sense of privacy and some kind of childish giggle when he gets off keeping things only for himself, he knew that it was only a matter of time where the secret would naturally come out, he in a way wanted to share the said secret the moment it opportunity arises. 

It’s too stuffy to call it a secret, you weren’t a secret to be hidden, hell if the idol environment wasn’t so strict and bashing about dating he would’ve already screamed to the whole world that you were his and his only. It was a shame, at least to him, that you were a private only love, but, but he once again was fine with it in some twisted way, he could keep you tucked in like the precious gem you were.

A gem that even his members didn’t see yet, maybe he should have been more careful, or maybe he was careless on purpose, you weren’t sure of that fact but you also didn’t care for it, he too you wasn’t shameful relationship to be hidden rather the opposite, unlike your usual situation that got too boring or too energy draining, Soonyoung to you was a breath of fresh air, that kept things interesting enough yet offered some sense of comfort you usually don’t get in your life. 

It was a video call at first, with the youngest no less, Dino was talking about some concert he attended the day before while on their vacation, Hoshi was nodding along and somewhere where they were making plans the bundle on his bed moved. Dino didn't think much of it, maybe it was his dog, Latte, but once it started shifting he started paying attention. He was glad he did because not even a minute later there was a peak of someone’s hair, that he for sure knew it wasn’t Latte’s fur.

Before he could inquire about what that was, Hoshi was saying quick goodbye and promised for a group hang-out.‘ Bye bye Dino-ya! Let’s grab drinks later.” The screen went back and yet all Dino can think of is the bundle of sheets that looked too human-like and a head that didn’t match anyone in Hoshi’s family. His older sister would rather eat rocks then allow the loudness of her brother to interrupt her precious sleep, he knows that much. 

So he came to the most plausible conclusion ever. Hoshi definitely had a girl over! Not just any girl, a girl that obviously tolerated his loudness and didn’t mind his obnoxious laugh when they talked for longer than just a quick call to check in, Hoshi even called Dino for some kind of better clearness, that girl wasn’t a one-night stand and it definitely wasn’t his ex, she wouldn’t be so chill with him calling someone while she was there.. 

So with that ‘genius’ conclusion he texted around, the first who answered was Mingyu, who mentioned that Hoshi was indeed avoiding his invites for drinks more of lately, he thought it was because he wanted to stop embarrassing himself around their industry friends because of his drinking habits but now with what Dino said that it made sense he wouldn’t want to go home drunk if there was a girl waiting for him. Strike two.

Dino then ran to Jeonghan who told him that yeah Hoshi is definitely seeing someone, I mean have you seen the sparkle in his eyes and the sudden number of hair ties on his wrist? He was half-sure the older one was teasing him but the hair thing stuck with him. None of them had longer hair anymore, Jeonghan’s was short again and it was always Seungcheol’s job to carry them for him, hell even he had somewhat longer-ish hair and Hoshi never offered it to him. Strike three. 

The longer he went around he came to realization he wasn’t the only one who thought so, Seungkwan was talking how Hoshi was suddenly on his best behavior and Minghao said he asked for nail places recommendation, hell even Woozi albeit reluctantly said that Hoshi was of great help lately with some lyrics, that for once weren’t some hype and break-up lyrics. Jun found a tube of glitter lipgloss spilling out of Hoshi’s bag, the label read ‘Frosted flirt’, he didn’t question it further, they wore make up occasionally,  but it did get stuck in his memory. 

Like puzzles coming into their rightful place and the information being shared among members it was announced that, without the guy in question’s knowledge, Hoshi was dating someone, and he is hiding it. They didn’t want to be a noisy bunch but they too were itching to know why, after all Hoshi never hesitated to be loud about his love life or even lack of it thereof. 

So as any good and worried, read as noisy, friends they cornered him on random Saturday, soju and beers being passed around as the noise of regulars and some nostalgically old pub playlist that played in the background was overwhelmed by the chatter of the thirteen men. It wasn’t hard to get Hoshi tipsy but they strategically avoided him actually getting drunk by putting him besides Mingyu who drowned both his and Hoshi’s drinks. 

It didn’t take him long enough to break, honestly they barely started the romance talk, mostly between the new tensions and embarrassing stories, the only thing that was needed was a comment from Seungkwan, smoothly put together and presented with a teasing pull, a provocation. 

‘Guys slow down with your love stories, our sweet Soonyoung is yet to be over his ex…’ Seungkwan said that in a mockingly sweet tone, patting Hoshi on his back but while the touch was comforting, the words were meant to tease and make him fess up. ‘Right, Soonyoung? Or perhaps your lack of game is more grave than we thought of it and you seem to not have any prospects...’

‘Yah! What are you saying! I have an amazing game mind you! I am good, my girlfriend is like…like so hot! Like…she is so bad, I swear I see my damn future in her shiny lipgloss and like when she talks it is like the whole world revolves around her, you just gotta hear her out!’ that dramatic admission was followed by actual tear, his cheeks were flushed deep mauve from alcohol? Embarrassment? They weren’t sure but it was for sure comical, listening to him go and go on about his girlfriend.

‘Is that so?’ Like he was egging him on, Jeonghan asked him with a mischievous grin on his face, and Hoshi’s eyes actually lit up, he missed the hit and took it as an invitation to begin his rant.

‘Yeah! She walks with some kind of purpose and I swear everytime her heel hits the floor I feel my heart skip a beat, like everything is in slow motion that it makes you focus on her! And when she calls me an idiot I melt like she said some pet name, sure I once messed up her make up display and broke like half of the things. She just closed her eyes, let out a sigh of annoyance and I was a second away from getting on my knees to beg with the way her raised eyebrow and intense stare was cutting me apart, but guess what she kissed me and called me useless.’ He sighs out like he just told a fairytale worthy story. ‘I have her vogue cover hanging on the opposite side of the bed just so I can see her the first thing in morning, she says it is creepy but I know she digs it, she is like a glammed up final boss, the main character of main characters!’

‘Ha ha ha….right.’ Dino muttered out, eyes widened from the sudden surge of information, it wasn’t surprising that Hoshi would love that kind of woman, one that appears to have a world under the heel of her shoes, but to think someone like that would entertain the idea of his weirdness was unbelievable. 

‘Are you sure you aren’t just imagining things Soonyoung?’ Joshua asked, genuinely baffled by what his friend just said.

‘Perhaps he got a head injury while dancing? Jun added in, now wearing a more worried expression than the amusing one. ‘We should get him to hospital or something?’

Woozi had both of his hands under his chin, like he was figuring out what beat was mixing but not he was thinking what part of the brain has Hoshi lost over the vacation. ‘I actually agree, he is speaking nonsense like usual , but this is a new level of delusions.’ 

‘Ha!? Delusions, it’s true my girlfriend is so…so cute and like super smart!’ Hoshi defended himself, rising from his seat, almost knocking off a glass of beer if it wasn’t for Jun’s quick reflexes to catch it. ‘Let me show you her!’

Hoshi pulled out his phone, unlocking it and immediately going to the gallery, with no hesitation at all he shoved his phone in the closest hand to him, which was Joshua’s, who was sitting in front of him. ‘Go on, there is a whole album with her in it!’

Joshua just let out a sound that was somewhere in between a chuckle and exasperated sigh, he clicked on the album with a pink heart and tiger emoji, assuming that it was the one he was referring to, and once the pictures loaded his eyes widened. There it was, the girl he was describing, a drop-dead gorgeous woman wrapped in rhinestone-studded croptop, low waisted jeans that showed off her belly button piercing, the small gem glittering under what he assumed was a camera flashlight. 

To avoid staring at the ‘S’ letter necklace between her breast he forced himself to look at her face, and damn he understood Hoshi’s statement about begging, eyeliner sharp that it could kill made her eyes pop, the gaze that could send shivers down his spine if it was directed at him, lips covered in sheer frosted pink sparkles drawing away from the fact that the smile she had on was one that spells out danger vailed up as a good ride you wouldn’t forget. 

‘Yeah no, no way. Where did you get this pic man? This girl might get a bad rep if she got connected to you!’ Seokmin’s voice was loud in Joshua’s ears as he basically screamed out from where his chin was hooked on Joshua’s shoulder.

‘Just scroll, and stare less, she is my girlfriend, remember?’

Joshua’s finger swiped right and right, over and over again, and without doubt it was the same girl, dressed to nines, at clubs, conferences and without makeup on, wrapped up in sheets that looked similar to Hoshi’s, the K.O. move was you in Hoshi’s lap with Latte cuddled up with you, the dog napping peacefully, gasps followed throughout the room as members passed the phone among them.

‘Photoshoot?’ Someone said, ‘Nah, it’s too much for a prank, he doesn’t go that far’.

‘Ha! She is my girlfriend and I am her boyfriend,’ Hoshi exclaimed, beaming from pride. He liked saying that, he wanted everyone to know how lucky he was, drowning another beer, and he mumbled out some more about you. About your work, your bag collection, how you make people question left and right, how mean you can get yet somehow you are always right.

It was like that for the rest of the night, once the shock passed and they returned to the usual conversation topics but it was clear in Hoshi’s dumb smile and that lovestuck expression he was gone from most of the conversation. The members gave him his time, still doubtful but happy for him, they watched over him as he emptied glass after glass, bouncing around them, they laughed with him too, enjoying this new version of him, sliding in a couple of teasing comments and stabs, questions of how did he bag a baddie like you.

And once the time for them to part, Dino sneakily called up Hoshi’s girlfriend as others were taking the last shots and bites of good, it wasn’t hard to find you in his contact info the number of sickeningly sweet emojis next to what he assumed was your name, clicking on it and asking for you to come pick him up because no one could, it was a lie, he was sure some of the sober members would be up for it or even calling a cab was an option, they were enough of comfortable in their careers that the bill wouldn’t matter, but he wanted to make sure, that this night wasn’t alcohol driven hallucination. 

It was definitely worthed when you walked in with a bare face and some chunky bedazzled sunglasses on, and Seokmin even fell over when he saw you. Dressed in some leisure wear and hair put up out of your face so the hoop earings got a moment on their own, all while on your hip there was a juicy hot pink bag and a very out of place tiger plushy. The chaos once again ignited, Minghao, bless his manners, welcomed you in with an apologetic smile and led you to drink his Hoshi who was clinging on Mingyu’s biceps. 

Your manicured nails took off the glasses as you looked down at Hoshi who was blabbing some nonsense about kimchi and butterfly  hairclips. With a face twisted in an expression that could be read as judgemental and flicker or worried furrow in your shaped eyebrows. In less than a second you took out a vanilla body spray and drenched him in it, being careful he doesn’t inhale any of it. 

‘You are not entering my room, much less my bed if you stink of alcohol and meat.’

The members weren’t sure if it was your voice or the smell of the bakery fit in a bottle that was what snapped him towards you but to be honest none of them were thinking, too amazed to see a baddie like you entertain an idea of welcoming Hoshi into your home at all. Don’t get them wrong, they acknowledge that he is an amazing person with a lot of things to brag about but he always said the stupidest shit to girls around them. So when you didn’t even blink when he attached to your hip instead of Mingyu, they were more than just surprised.

‘You came for me me, yey. I was just talking about how cool you are and about the project you were doing!’ 

‘How great but I doubt anyone can understand your slurred words. Let's go before you embarrass yourself more than you should.’ You said and brushed the hair that was sticking to his forehead. He followed you like a puppy and all the members were in honest disbelief, bit envious but most of all filled with some kind of happiness that he got someone that even if out of his league, they knew he would treat you good based on how he sang praises about you for the whole night. They also were looking at the example that you too would treat him well, with the way your hands hold onto his body and the way despite the displeasure of being here you didn’t flinch away from it, accepting it as a part of him, part of him in seventeen, bright, familiar, and somewhat foolish, but yours. 

warning(s). non-major characters death, period according misogyny, (breif) mentions of war, aftermath of war, tone is heavily regency period-like (which means historical icky things that are not cool (but nothing too drastic)), religious symbols but not too much, they are in a church at some point but nothing happens

wc. 5.6k

a/n. I had this in drafts for a while... I will make a masterlist later, but this is a part one of bigger passion project so bare with me (lot of non-jeonghan related yapping)

The soft breeze infused with the final burst of summer’s heat brushes against your cheek, rustling against the fallen strands of your hair. Caressing your skin in a futile attempt to warm you up. You don’t have any intention of closing the window to chase away the night's chill, and with it, the peaceful sight in front of you. 

The view of an angelic beauty that is looking far out in the distance of the night, shining under the cascading flames of burning candles. One of his knees stood relaxed below his elbow, one leg spread onto the window’s seat while the other was dangling by the sill. Despite his posture being the most brazen–there was silent grace in his expression, almost serene despite the chaos that is lying in the wake of both the past and the future. 

Perhaps instead of writing letters you should be writing poems to make this moment last forever but you will settle with eching it in your memory. Afraid to leave a material trace of this night, of a moment that isn’t drawn from desperation nor fear but stillness of being alive right now. 

You tear your focus back on the drying ink, lifting your pen and dabbing it back into endless darkness. Words come to your mind harder than usually do, but like a string of coherence wraps around your hand you manage to finish the letter. One of many you have sent but as the wax drips onto the paper envelope you wonder if this time the words even transfer a grain of your feelings. 

The seal is pressed, finality present only in your movements. 

You chose to ignore the way he is staring at you, and in some twisted way you are glad even if the contents decorating the paper makes little sense at all–he would never know what they are.

It will always be yours, and perhaps if the person receiving it ever decides to open it will be theirs too. 

You hear the slow tap of his feet as he approaches you, brushing the flyaway strands behind your ear, fingertips hovering above the skin below your ear for a short breath, before retreating. 

‘He will read it, I assure you that it will be taken care of.’ 

An assuring promise or an attempt of pacification? Perhaps if it was months ago you would call it an empty promise filled with intentions of keeping you mellow and pliable but now you can only hope it’s an affirmation of fate yet to follow. 

The walls of the castle were always cold, they might be draped with rich purple curtains that go from floor to ceiling, decorated by the finest of paintings, golden ornaments and precious china, but they will always be cold. Even the floor you walk on, despite your heels being silenced by carpet you are sure traveled a long way just to be stepped on by the royal family and those close enough to dare think of themself important enough to join them at the dining hall, was in some eerily senseless way cold enough that it sends shivers down your spine.

The sound of heavy door opening is far from pleasant, it carries some kind of importance that for you fizzled out long ago. You step into the room, not bothering to look at around the grandiose display of wealth that it was decorated with instead your gaze lands on the long rectangular table, the dark cherry wood peaking under the pure white tablecloth with decorative golden embroidery that you trace when the conversations become too dull for your brain to handle. But despite the compelling sense in your deep consciousness telling you to just leave you brave yourself into a curtsy, albeit as an attempt to prolong not having to look at their faces just yet. 

‘Bright is the rising of the sun when the whole family is here, may peace and prosperity ever walk beside you, a fair morning to you, father, mother.’ 

The greeting you present might me soulless in essence and perhaps you share no the same sentiments you speak of, but you smile, offering it like a sweet peace offering for your tardiness. 

Your father nods, ushering for you to sit down, and you feel dread fill in your stomach when he positions you right of him. Your gaze lays on your mother’s face, studying her almost passive face, the gems don’t brighten up her complexion as they usually do, they appear like ornaments on a porcelain doll with how pale her face is. The Queen meets your eyes for a long moment as you sit down, offering an empty smile, you know it holds some warmth, like ash after fire then went out, but not enough to ease your shivering. 

‘Ah my sweet child, may the day find you in grace, aren’t you adored just lovely today’

An attempt was made for some sense of normalcy and you can appreciate it even for a short minute, ‘Thank you mother, the season of new blooms is upon us, brighter colors would make it come more swiftly? Or perhaps I read too many poems of springtide that I just cannot but immerse myself in it’ 

‘Bright? Poems?’ The King’s voice was nothing but void of affection, as he recites the words shaped like questions you dare not answer. ‘You must not find favor of acts such of those in time like these’ 

‘Times like these? Pray tell Your Majesty, what meaning those words hold, for the clock is ticking in the same way it was the day before.’ You know that asking in such a direct way seems rude, especially to a man of importance, and you can feel the worried glances and even feel the clutch of your youngest sister's little fingers on your dress. 

‘Play not a fool when great matters are at hand, the Heir is at front lines and we have lost any semblance of knowledge of his return, a circumstance unbecoming of one tasked with weight of the crown.’ 

‘A misfortune befalls us’ Your mother says, hiding her face into a handkerchief, and you can grip the small hand on your lap, least of comfort you can offer to the innocent ones yet the most you can right now. 

‘A misfortune born of negligence and folly.’ Yet the King doesn’t let down, words spiteful, said in a rushed movement of clinking the wine glass as he took and drank from it. Staring down on the now empty silver cut, like the answer to his troubles was written on the bottom, but he is just falling deeper instead. 

‘Folly or not, such somber discourse is unfit to be led over morning meal your Majesty, might I inquire about your thoughts of moving with this proceeding?’

‘What wisdom do you carry princess? What declares you brave to utter such inquiries.’ He chuckles, throaty and lifeless, you hold in a gag from sheer discomfort the sound brings you.

‘What ill design lies behind such a bitter fate of my reign, my only son is lost, fallen to a sword of fiend.’

It was undoubtedly true his reign wasn’t one of peace but it was one of connections, trades and more than just smart deals, he was more of a merchant than a king, it was unfortunate too that he wasn’t the smartest of the merchants. You thank your brother a lot in the same way you pity him, at least he has a good head on his shoulder the one that keeps him out ill deals but he also has a good heart that forces him into most of complicated ones, then again you are sure both of these cases are affected equally by both the head and the heart. 

‘The Crown Prince can still be breathing under the same sky, may it be a rainy day for him but all is not lost,’ you answer, and your father’s eyes finally meet yours instead of just plainly staring into the silver of nothingness. His gaze was sharp and calculating yet you don’t turn your head away, even when you hear her weep, not when you hear your middle sister's steps as she runs towards your mother to comfort her, it’s only then when you realize she is weeping, yet you don’t flatter not even when your youngest sister climbs in your lap. 

Your words were supposed to offer comfort, you told them many times to ladies whose finances were on the battlefield, to older women who come to your mother’s salons, saddened for their missing sons. But you knew, even if it was true it didn't make the situation any easier, dead or not, he wasn’t here. And it seems the King already gave up on waiting for him, casting him aside as an afterthought, like a nuisance of an idea he had once. 

‘Your mind is keen as a freshly sharpened knife that takes the last breath of the traitors, possessing a wit that matches wisdom beyond your years, your words flow like clearest rivers, easy to follow simply by precision of your touch on others with your verbal abilities alone. Must your understanding be so unshaken even in the hardest time, ’ he says deep in thought, and it’s almost like you can see the cogs turning in his head. He too doesn't spare a glance at your family members, but you know it is for a different reason than yours.

‘If only you were born as a son…’ , a pregnant pause followed by a dark chuckle,  ‘Ah…you are right, not all is lost.’ 

‘Lord of worth would be more than suitable, should the providence, no even better of a deal, raise you to the throne, it would be brilliant, testament to your worth both in cradle in court! Our line shall persevere.’

‘Your majesty, do not jest she is only but near of her age! Bud yet not bloomed…’ 

Your mother's voice was nothing but unheard, the king just stands up from his chair and spears her a single glance. 

‘An offer to become a wife to a lord that shall bear the weight of crown on his temples is the greatest gift a father could offer, do not weep woman, but prepare, in once the first flowers start to bloom she will too, she will come of age, early or not I shall not care. We must make sure we have a male heir no matter what, if by marriage so it be.’ 

You refuse to flinch under the pressure, you just hug your younger sister whose cheeks are wet and hands shaky, you doubt she understands the argument at all and in some way you wish she never does. You do not beg, do not cry, nor do you defend your mother, silent and pilent. You accept your fate and mutter a prayer for your older brother, for your sisters, for a miracle.

‘And don’t forget it is because of your incompetence we are here, you birthed a fool of a man, a weak insufficient prince who put shame on our name! And three daughters! The Lord must have mercy on the poor people of our kingdom so he gave one mind of a man, I hope He has enough pity to save us and find her a suitable husband.’

Your father hisses under his breath, spitting poison to shatter any kind of refusal from your mother. 

‘We will postpone announcing his death until the engagement is done, and buy time to rally a decent support. Do not argue where it is not your place, woman.’

The door close behind him with a hard thrum, you know it isn’t from him, his hands never laid to open doors heavy as such.

Much like he never carried the actual weight of this kingdom.

The days, awaiting the season of awaking nature were long yet there was a sense of urgency among the people residing in the palace. Your gowns weren’t flowy anymore, the puffiness that lessened the hurt of playing around on grass was gone as the level of cleavage was suddenly an important thing to be accounted for to the tailors.

Suddenly gems you admired in your mother’s collection weren’t just for playing pretend with your sisters but to be worn, bit by bit you were being accepted as an adult and not a gifted child, and it was far from what you expected. 

You were aware of it, the woman’s responsibilities, the duties of a noble lady and the tales told in whispers at ladies events, you sneaked in pretense of wanting to be part of them, but truly you simply had hunger to learn everything, and the more you knew the more the shape of the twisted world unruled before you. 

Yet somehow it seemed bizarre in some placid, silent sense, nobody pushed nor pulled. 

You walked the border carefully, asked the right questions so they never seemed too much but just enough for a curious princess, a bride to be to some man that wasn’t even decided before yet his hypothetical opinions, needs and preferences became the center of your world. 

Your father doesn’t call you anymore, leaving it to your mother to shape you from a girl into a maiden, sometimes he would send in an advisor, some old priest who in your humble opinion was nothing but a fraud. He would tell you stories of men taking over their wives' thrones, about keeping the bloodline pure with your blood only. He spoke about power structure, and your small place in it, how even if you were some small speck of dust you must do your part. He came once every couple of days, yet you gave up on tracing the pattern so you could prepare for mind numbing lesions. 

You never gave up on looking out of window every night, cold late winter air hitting your still chubby cheeks as you prayed, for your brother's return, for him to come in and celebrate your seventeenth spring, take you in his arms and assure you he got it all, that you can keep yourself buried between books and count petals in garden. 

He didn’t come, even when you sneaked in his old study and read over his notes, now you could memorise all of them, tracing over his doodles, he didn’t come to scoop you in his lap and playfully scold you. He didn’t come even when you run out barefoot at the knights ground when some of the soldiers returned, his face nowhere to be seen, you were left to be assuaged by your maid, you added in another prayer that night, for him to still have a sparkle in his eyes no matter where he was. 

The grass started to come out again, you can’t go barefoot over it anymore but you could watch your sisters run around and use the leftover snow to make small figures that melted under March’s sun, you soak it in, the domesticity of it, yet you usher them near the palace, you know it is less fun but you keep your eyes from glancing towards the entrance too much. Cloth too fancy for servants is the first thing you noticed, those people started appearing too far from the main building to be there for council, too close, too personal of glances sent your way. You stopped going there, pouring the melted snow over the flame of your curiosity before you could get burned. You just waited, patience was a virtue your mother preached about, and it was her who gave you the answers. 

‘You…’ She stared off as you fixed your sister's hair, placing the fallen pins back into her hair. ‘Did you speak with any strangers as of late? On your walks that is…someone from outside, perchance?’

‘No mother, Suhyeon was demanding we go to church’s yard of late, she likes running around the field while I pray.’ You answer, wait a second before asking, as if to make conversation longer, natural even. ‘Why? Should I have done that? Have I missed greeting someone?’

‘No…no.’ She answers and you can feel her gaze on you, she is thinking it over, whatever to tell you, you know she will, she just needs to justify it first in her mind.

 ‘Just…new faces came, a foreign adversaries… Some of them are rather the lookers, thought you would be curious, haven’t you always had a knack for learning foreign languages, your teacher had been praising you.’

‘I am princess, they ought to praise out of courtesy.’ You let go of Suhyeon and she runs off, you know the moment she is out of the sight she will be pulling the ornaments you placed in her hair out, only to come back when she is scolded by the court ladies. 

‘That is…don’t get witty with me,’ you give her your full attention, moving from the vanity table towards her. She stiffens visibly when you sit besides her on the sofa, the weight of your body falling into the blue cushions and creating a dent as you lean into her, she straightens up her posture when your face is close enough that you can see the wrinkle lines of her face, the deep set of her undereyes, and the rosy rouge she placed on her cheeks mere minutes ago clashes with lifeless complexion she been carrying since last winter. 

‘You surely comprehend what I am saying, prepare for tomorrow and brush up your greetings. We will go to church, offer a prayer and…and introduce you to them.’ The words she mumbles out sound unsure but before you can ask her questions she stands up with hurriedness that makes it clear she is not debating this over with you.

She runs off in the same Suhyeon did, rushed and with a feeling of guilt for thing she is yet to do, you chose to ignore it and go to find your brother’s notes instead of yours, peaking for secrets in translations like you could summon him back if you read the foreign letters right, pronouncing the words like chants, you will pray tomorrow to be forgiven for your weak attempt of sacrilege.

You don’t feel guilty of it, not even as the church bells ring and nobles flock over to your mother to greet her. You step into the church’s courtyard, dragging your long dress with you, and you kind of wish that your sisters were a bit older so you could feel less alone among the heavy scent of mature perfumes that hit your face. Sunday is the only day the palace church is open to nobles without any permission needed, you never go to morning service on Sunday, only the night one, where there are only unmarried old ladies and widows praying in silence.

You wish for that silence as the many greetings are sent your way, all spoken in language of your own, yet you return them without any practice needed, smiling and hoping your eyes don’t give out the dread of memorising the names and connecting them to titles you already learned.

It is only after the service when you hear the foreign tongue twist a curse under their breath. In the candle-lit room where the prayers of the dead and alive alike are muttered, as you finish placing a candle for your brother on the top stand your ears pick it up, an airy lilt of the voice that despite the softness carries a undoubtedly a masculine tone. 

You turn your head towards it, and you are met with a figure of a tall man. You tilt your head too, upwards to meet his dark eyes, trying to recognize the face but failing to do so, settling on hoping you haven’t met him before and withholding your greeting just yet as if to prolong the silence between the two of you. 

He seems startled that you were there, it seems the service is still outgoing, but makes no move to leave the room or push further in it, standing still like a statue. Your eyes trace over his features carefully, the slight raise of his eyebrows, the longish black hair that is tucked away behind his ears catches your attention first then his lips, rosy from cold as they move. 

‘Warm regards princess Suhyeon…’ He mumbles, voice sounding a bit awkward but the pronunciation is clear in a way you can see it is well-practiced, both the way he speaks your mother tongue and covers the awkwardness with a charming smile. 

‘Suhyeon? I will be sure to send her regards in your way…Only if you give some to me too,’ you speak before you can process it, lips moving as you return the smile albeit with a bit of spark behind it. Something in you made you want to see his lips move into the shape of your name, so to hide your interest you fall down into a curtsy, that makes him move automatically into a deep bow.  

‘Excuse me?’ He chuckles awkwardly, rising from the bow. ‘Princess Siyoon then? My apologies they sound quite the similar to me.’

‘Wrong again, third time the charm, as they say.’ You chuckle, but are fast to cover your mouth with your hand. And when he makes a grinning expression of realization dawning on his face your cheeks flush from the way his eyes light up and bows forward just slightly as in some soft apology without saying the words directly to you. 

‘Ah…the crown princess then, I've been told you are more of a timid nature, and a bit older.’ He explains, addressing you by the title that makes you frown, is that how you are presented to outsiders, you wonder for a second.

‘Older?’ You ask, choosing to focus on the other part that is worth nitpicking, but your question is overlapped by familiar voices you recognize as your mother’s ladies in waiting. So you courtesy so lightly that is barely considered a courtesy, and you rush towards the entrance before they can see you converse with a man by yourself.

 ‘Ah sorry, let’s greet each other properly the next time, I hope to learn of your name too.’ 

You hear a second curse from him when you leave the room, also in his own language, now you are able to giggle freely, your mother was right, the curiosity in you would naturally be awakened if something or rather someone is out of your routine. 

Your mother also holds in her curses but unlike the stranger you wish you had the name of, her expression is a different story. Sour like unripe grapes, you keep silent about the meeting, perhaps looking too forward for the satisfaction of learning about him on your own, there was always something in answering your own questions that is sweet, more sweet than the bitter tea you force down your throat as you try to pacify her.

After the church you are forced into a tea room, listening to your mother complain to other important women in the kingdom, you sit like a motionless doll on your mother’s side. Picking up an empty teacup third time in a row just so you could avoid commenting on new gossip.

‘You carry yourself with such composure, young princess. If I were a couple decades younger I would be fuming to be debuting in the same season as you are.’ The voice of a Marchondess rings in your ears as you focus back on the conversation on hand. 

‘You are kind enough to say so, ma’am. Though, I am afraid I pale compared to stories that are mentioned next to your name, I can only but work towards such grace’ 

She laughs, the kind of laugh that makes your skin crawl from the facade that it presents. Other ladies add in compliments of their own and you can feel your mother beaming from pride, her mood bettering as she takes over the conversation. You fill in the uncomfortable gaps when you can, yet never speak long enough for those vultures of old nobles to sink their imaginative fangs into your neck, or to say, find too much about you. 

‘Your conversations are as pleasant as you are my dear, must I comment, lucky is the drawing room that will have you as a guest and utmost lucky will be the household blessed with such charm, should they know of dullness with such a daughter.’ She continues on, the sweet words of praise spilling out of her red lips. 

‘It is such a shame your older brother won’t be here to see it…well I truly hope he makes it in time for a wedding!’ The Duchess adds in, the older woman gleaming with what appears happiness yet the heaviness of your gaze makes you think the opposite. 

‘Till the wedding? Please do not lament such things, my brother will be back before you know it. Last time, pardon my memory, but I think he wrote to father that he is recovering quite well, he even promised to be back before the winter solace.’ 

‘Winter solace? That is quite far.’

‘I am sure there is no need for me nor him to rush. After all I haven’t even had a proper event in society, courting takes time, doesn't it? And his grace, the crown prince said he would want to return fully healthy and celebrate the end of war, without leaving any regrets behind.’

The bitter smile overtakes her face, as she hides it with her gadgy fan. ‘His highness said so? Well it seems we will have many grand celebrations coming up?’

‘Indeed, I hope you attend most of it, for it would be a joy to speak with you again ma’am.’ 

Your corset is let loose when you meet him for the second time, three and half days later—not like you counted. You were chasing Siyoon, your youngest sister down the hallway into the room filled with what she says has a comfiest couch, her bubbly laugh filling in the space up to the painted ceiling of the gallery. The man is also there, wearing the same surprised expression when his admiration of the paintings that grace the walls is interrupted by a giggling ball with frills. 

You clutch the ends of your dress tighter and catch your breath by the doorway, and just like before speak too fast, this time speaking his language, greedy part in you wanting to converse with him without anyone knowing what it was about, despite knowing your sister didn’t care enough to listen to your conversations. 

‘Suhyeon appreciated the greetings as much as she does to the ornaments in her hair, tossed too fast. Apologies for that, I had no name to attach to it.’

‘Is that so..’ He says, and you are glad you spoke to him in his mother tongue, his voice is somehow deeper, it glides smoothly and there is no hesitation when the syllables form the words.

‘Is that her?’ He asks, tilting his head to the young princess who is fluffing out the small pillows on the couch before burning herself in them, disappearing in pale blue comfort. 

‘No, that’s Siyoon. She still hasn’t learned her manners… Hope you don’t mind.’ 

‘Your pronunciation is amazing, have you travelled abroad before?’

‘No, I haven’t left the county, the daughters in the royal family can’t leave the palace until marriage.’

‘Oh…well, you must have had an amazing teacher, might I have know of his name?’

‘Too many to name but my elder brother taught me mostly. I hope you know of his name, he is the only male offspring in our family, so you have no one to confuse him with.’ 

In return of your articulated stab he shook his head, the fallen strands of his tied up hair falling before his eyes, he moved them away with a brush of his fingers. 

‘You aren’t making this easy.’ 

‘Making what easy, your highness?’

‘You know of me? How?’

‘I don’t, I made a guess and was right, you hold yourself with importance only a royal offrisping would have. But it wouldn’t be hard to ask around either, I am sure you leave long lasting impressions on others the same way you did to me’

‘I left an impression?’ He tilts his head, the edges of his lips lifting up just slightly, as if to let you know he found satisfaction in your comment. 

‘You called me old, it still stings.’ 

‘I haven’t…meant it in that way. Many praise you for your wisdom and wit so I assumed you would be at least past twenty winters, and well you…it is your springtime of…pardon my thoughts got better of me’ 

‘I see, how many winters have you lived then?’

‘One past twenty, this one shall be my twentieth one. I was born in autumn.’

‘Is that so?’

‘That is so.’

‘Your highness, how come you don’t have a servant with you?’

‘I may ask you the same’

‘This is the only place I've ever been in, remember? I know my way around and every servant can be considered as mine…you on the other hand. I find it strange you come to a gallery on the East, I am sure any servant would inform you the one on the West is the one that holds the most astounding of pieces.’

‘Perhaps I am here on a different quest?’

‘Is that so? Do share, I might be of help to fulfilling that quest.’

‘Must I? Please, it would be a shameful request on my part if I did…’

‘Oh my, if it raises such shame I must alarm the guards, you are in the presence of two young ladies…suddenly I worry what Siyoon will hear.’ You fake a gasp, as if to make a point. 

‘Ah…no, don’t—’, he pauses, collecting his words, part of him believing you will come true at your previous threat of alerting the guards, ‘Dear Lord… I came to find you princess.’  

‘Me? That’s awfully questionable your highness, even foreign royals are still guests on palace grounds. What might you inquire as to meet me without a formal preceding?’

‘To apologise?’ His words are followed by yet another tilt of his head, voice drawing the last syllable like it would prolong the sentence from finishing. You want to offer the doubt that he is simply of an awkward personality but your observations say otherwise, and part of you doesn't want to give him an easy way out. 

‘You sound unsure?’ 

‘I am, I am also afraid that I have offended you by not offering proper greeting to you, and now I do realize you understood me cursing in the Lord’s house.’

‘You are a strange one…you say one but still haven’t even greeted me property for a second time, piling on offences are we?’

‘You too haven’t offered a greeting.’ He retorts back, at last catching on your teasing.

‘I don’t know who you are, without an introduction I only have guesses from the history books, and you are very much alive so those won’t help.’ You pause, measuring him, and that's enough to make his nerves burn — you make out a glisten of sweat above his temple which brings you joy. ‘Is it you who are here without permission, The Emerald Palace is home to unmarried ladies? Seems concerning in my eyes.’

‘I am Jeonghan, Yoon Jeonghan of a small kingdom on the East of the continent. It is a greatest honor to make your acquaintances your highness. I assure you I have no ill will towards any lady residing here, but carry guilt in my heart for not being worthy of my title when we spoke the last time, I wasn’t thinking clearly then.’

‘Jeonghan…’ You murmur under your breath, the name rolling off your tongue and you curtsy. ‘Bright is the day as your greeting, no cloudiness in your intentions is seen and appreciated. I hope that your visit will bear fruit because I don’t find offense in your greeting, and the lack of it. It is forgiven under the practice of speaking with me, even the old attribute you attached to me’

‘Once again, your wit precedes your age, I see that with my own eyes. Pardon me for my hasty words, you are as beautiful as the March sunbeam reflecting on the clear waters and the first blooms that caress the sight among the white snow—’

His compliments are cut off by a demanding voice of the young princess. 

‘Sister, you are too loud.’ Siyoon hisses, seemingly finding her way out of pillows, her small head becoming a circle as she puffs out her chubby cheeks, you know you two aren’t loud but it seems she didn’t like the lack of attention on her. ’I have gotten bored, carry me.’

‘I will make haste, I am concerned they must have noticed me missing, have a fair day, princess…’ He mouths your name like it’s a secret, you feel the impact of your sister clinging on the bottom of your dress but your gaze doesn’t drift from his retreating back.

Your curiosity grows, it’s clear he is here in the country because your father’s words of your prospective hand in marriage but you are left to question everything else. His quick on feet answers and charming smile, the eyes that seem like deep depths filled with secrets you want to know, you always wanted to know, the small peak into something and you wanted to know every edge and corner of it.

And now, he became more interesting then any book your studied.

🍀 ⌇ profiles ~ lost and found clurb, the cats+hamster

🍀 ⌇ table of contents

› 1 ~ no, don't play hamliton during my breakdown?

› 2 ~ trading luck for a zoo ticket

› 3 ~ ice cream commercial

› 4 ~ I like my toast burned

› 5 ~ finding four-leaf clovers in concrete jungle

› 6 ~ four of clubs

› 7 ~ when the rabbit's foot is actually plastic

› 9 ~ believing fortune cookies, just this once

› 8 ~ horseshoes hang upside down for a reason

› tba

🍀 ⌇ playlist ♫ ˎˊ˗

freak-lana del rey ⌇ is it wrong-lana del rey ⌇ killin’ it girl -j-hope ⌇ solo-frank ocean ⌇ bad influence-seventeen ⌇ one thing-lola young ⌇ lips-haiden henderson ⌇ sweat- haiden henderson ⌇ hxw-stupid idiot ⌇ illiegal- pinkpantheress ⌇ loose-enhypen ⌇ stargirl interlude- weekend, lana del rey ⌇ music to watch boys-lana del ray

a/n. written for pre-active military service (where he is going away for basic training), but it can be read in general context of him being gone bc of compulsory military service

no usage of y/n, written in second person pov, old work

The sky had long ago been swallowed by the gloom of the night, the only lights that were left on were city lampposts, shimmering onto the wet streets and peaking through the open curtains. They had lost their usual intensity of Seoul’s colorful bling, fading into quiet afterthought. The faded lights drip across crumpled sheets just a hair strand away from you, offering silent solidarity.

They're like you in a way, sitting at the corner of your bed, overthinking. The itch to be hurt in you is recollecting memories using the shapes they form, just like the lights stray away and go to corners no one goes to. Away from their purpose of lighting up the road to somewhere, anywhere but here. Your thoughts are the same, rattled in a million directions, spilling over into something you no longer understand, just a mix of shards in the shape of the unrecognizable reflection.

There was no sound, only edging silence. The same silence that caressed your skin like a cool night breeze, leaving goosebumps in its wake. Hate is a strong word but right now you hate the silence, the stillness of your world against the tremor of your mind.

And as if the universe heard you it was interrupted by the sound of the entrance door opening and closing shut. Trud was heard, a catalyst shaped like a lighter was triggered and it set your lungs on fire, you started breathing after being suffocated by your own being. Fresh out of water, free from the saltness you tasted on your lips.

The monotone feeling of false serenity has been broken in hundred pieces, they lay on the floor and peck your skin when your foot presses and crushes them further, until they are just a speck of dust. Forgotten. 

Pitter of steps moving towards you, a soul aching to be satisfied by comforting presence, a sense of home. Soothing is the body that collides in yours even if the weight almost crashes your whole body into the sheets. Even in the darkness, the spillage of the emotions is ever apparent, your heart is open as you feel the warmth of the man above you.

You both don’t say anything but the quietness isn’t suffocating, it is followed by a heartbeat that isn’t just yours anymore, it's present in a sigh that promises another day. Closed eyes and dreamless state, you wished this fullness in your chest would last forever, that the arms holding you never let go. Jeonghan’s arms tighten around you like he is aware of the thoughts that consume your mind, body rolling over to your side, simply out of courtesy to not mush you too much, just enough.

‘You waited for me.’ A statement, cutting through the lull of your being. You peek one eye open, just to see the corners of his face, he was staring at you already, with a level of awareness you wouldn't expect of him to have this late in the night, not after the day he had.

‘Aren’t I supposed to wait for you no matter how long it takes?’ You ask, not really expecting an answer, just letting the word echo between cold walls and warm bodies.

Rather than seeing it you feel his mouth curving into a smile, his face pressed into your neck before you can turn your head towards him. A groan mixed in with some sort of giggle, both drowsy and deep, starts ringing in your ear even when he stops.

Sleep doesn't overtake you, even if you feel your body drip further into the sheets, giving up from day's work, day’s unrest. Your nervous system is up in flames yet it’s soothed by the delicate touch of the breath that caresses your cheek. This time you open your eyes and you are welcomed by the sight worth more than you will even earn in your life.

Eyes glimmering of some emotion you aren’t sure can be found in your vocabulary, much less be named now, your brain shutting down. His face right in front of yours, bare of both paint of appearance and one made of chemicals.

‘Will you wait for me even if I can’t come back like this?’

Those words leave his lips, muttered out in the form of soft prayer, pleading framed as a question, packed up as if he wasn’t the reason your heart beats in such yielding way. As if you didn’t wait for him every long night just so you can breathe again.

Would you survive the wait he speaks of? You ask yourself on sleepless nights, when you stare at the nothingness. You agree with yourself at the end, like a well played play, the conclusion is always the same. The actors kiss and live happily ever after. You ignore every tragedy, every version of the conversation that doesn’t agree with you.

‘Yes’, simple and short, the answer to every doubt of your mind conjured up, you could, you would and you will.

‘Even if it wasn't the same? Even if I wasn't the same?’

The further questioning makes you think that he too is arguing with himself, like it was some complicated ploy at work, like he has to make sure every edge of the page is ironed out before he starts reading.

‘Yes, I would engrave the promise of us in my skin if I could even if the future isn’t certain, just so I could go over it with my fingers. I would count it as a prophecy, you leave and you come back, mellowed out, bones aching from sitting down rather than being on stage, tired out from accountant books, carrying bitter taste of too much coffee on your lips’ 

You glance up from his eyes, up to his short hair, reminding you that your time tonight is also short. Your fingers follow your gaze, you will take it, you vow to yourself, every distance, every leave and every transfer. 

‘I wouldn't mind the charge because we would go through it bit by bit, together.’

A sigh, you felt it on your lips this time, just before he pressed them against yours. You wished one kiss, one touch, one conversation could ease the mind, could make everything fine and that you could run out in the field of flowers giggling like children. But in a way, part of you is glad there is no happy ending, because you don’t want it to end. You want it to be real, you want every night while you wait to feel his absence, to feel the ache that could be satisfied only by his tender touch. Maybe it is because you never wish to take whatever he is giving for granted, he is worth waiting for. 

a/n. original plot was darker but then I realized that it's joshua and I like him too much for that, I hope the flow makes sense, I was writing this and school work at the same time so it might sound bit... too professional, mouth-full?

no usage of y/n, written in second person pov

If everyone who knew Joshua could describe him in one word, it would be the word gentleman. Suitable noun to be attached to him, for the man did have a gentle smile and all of the proper manners memorized in the tip of his pinky finger. Always holding respect for people around him, acts of consideration before you could even notice with the touch soft as a feather, tender, comforting, many wouldn't ever think twice to trust him.

You too share the same credence as others, Joshua is a gentleman. You would never deny that. How could you, he was always one step ahead of your needs, like now for example, as he was moving through dresses laid on the bed, the ones he made sure to steam and place out for you. 

It was your anniversary dinner, and as always he took care of everything. Part of you feels bad about it, how all you had to do was bring along your gift and dress up, well he helped you with the later too. Showing you options with his giddy smile he was forcing down, he used the excuse of matching, but part of you had suspicion he just wanted to see you in those dresses, but was too awkward to just ask. 

Perhaps you did notice how he stirs your opinion on each dress, always finding a fault in it, but just in the same you don’t think twice when you settle on his choice for the night, simply thinking that once again your tastes are overlapping. One more concurrence in your relationship, you liked it that way.  

You are reminded he is a gentleman in the hallway where he puts your heels on for you, avoiding the ones he knows hurt just enough to be uncomfortable but not enough to be thrown away. Once more, when he drives you to the restaurant, he talks, filling the silence with his voice, reminding you of your nail appointment next week and asking when to pick you up. 

With that in mind you think of the last week, the day that actually started this spiraling of you pondering Joshua’s title of gentleman, you offered to drive your friend and their car home, considering they were more than tipsy to get there safely, and just as you checked if you had your driving licence on you noticed something amiss, its expired. 

There was staring back at you a license that expired last year, not a couple of days, weeks even, it was almost ten months ago. You try to figure out how you hadn't noticed that as you balance your drunk friend on your shoulder and then it clicks in your head, you started dating Joshua last year. The guy who insisted on driving you almost everywhere, the guy who had a GPS installed in his head when it came to you. 

As you start laughing at your predicament, finding the whole situation insane and sharing the bad news with your friend. The same one who, bless her heart, started teasing about what gentleman your boyfriend was, gagging at the sweetness of not turning on your car for almost a year because you had a private driver. You nod your head, half listening to her rant as you dial his number, heart beating against your chest as he picks after the second ring, you almost second question if you were the sober one. 

Usually, event like that would go over your head, you would laugh about it when you had debrief with your boyfriend and move on, shaking your head as you mumble about renewing your license, but what made you pause was simple, ‘You don’t have to rush you know, it will continue to collect dust anyways. Besides, that way you can’t run off too far’ It was a joke, obviously, driving yourself wasn't the only way of transportation, but what made you choke on air was the words that followed. ‘Well even if you go too far I will find you, I always do.’ 

Romantic, you think at first, flush covers your cheeks, you even giggle, like some highschool girl with a crush. It feels nice, he did always seem to find you, no matter where you were, like he was your personal guardian angel, always there, lurking even when you couldn't see him.

And that is when you realize that most people who claim Joshua's gentleman agenda don't understand that despite him being as gentle as the rose petals whose scent overtakes the whole room he will always be too overwhelming in the same way you cover your nose when you pass the perfume aisle in the store. Basic as you may be to make that comparison it was the first that came to your brain when Joshua showed real interest in you. His usual passive expression on his face, the one with an automatic smile you used to question if it was practiced, as he holds the umbrella over your head, for some reason the droplets of rain that soaked your clothes didn't feel as cold as his gaze did.

You aren't sure how or why he was there, you just got broken up with and he showed up, shielding you from the rain. Like he was some k-drama’s male lead you watched when you wanted to feel something other than constant disappointment of your own relationships. His own clothes were getting ruined at a rapid pace yet the world stopped for a minute. Million other thoughts running through your head yet you couldn’t verbalize them, couldn’t even open your mouth to greet him, thank him, nothing. All you could do is listen, to the murmur of the raindrops hitting the world around you, and his voice-

‘Are you okay?’

You were’t sure.

‘Are you cold’

Maybe

‘Do you want to go inside?’

Possibly, but then you would have to face the fact that your face was wet from tears and not the dumb rain.

‘Hey, can you look at me?’

Oh.

You raise your gaze to meet his, it is not the same expression he had five, ten minutes ago. His brows were pulled together, something like a frown but you weren't sure. You come to the conclusion you aren’t sure of many things, considering you wouldn't be able to describe the emotion that was burning behind those beautiful brown eyes of his. He steps closer to you, pushing you to take steps of your own, just backwards. You are too immersed into his expression that you almost don’t notice your back hitting the wall of the covered bus station. 

‘’Did you finally break up with that bastard?’

Oh?

He must have seen your raised eyebrows and gaping mouth like a fish on the shore, because he laughed. What a gratifying laugh, your lips pressed shut together forming into a smile. He runs his fingers through his wet hair strands and shakes his head in a way that reminds you of a wet dog drying off, you bet you looked like a wet cat in comparison. 

‘Is that a yes?’

‘Yeah, its a yes’

You answer his question for the first time, voice quivering from coldness and something more. 

‘What a relief, he was ugly’

Your cheeks are hurting from the smile stretching on your face, a hum graces his ears, like you are agreeing with the statement but trying to be a bigger person.

‘And you are really pretty… What an ass, he had someone as amazing as you and let you slip right trough of his fingers’

Oh!

Joshua raises his eyebrows, a boyish smile covering up and replacing all of the memories of previous times you saw his smile. He must really enjoy your shocked expressions, but you don’t think of that, you don’t dare think of that.

‘I like your smile the most but surprise is a close second. No, I lied, I still haven’t seen them all, I bet you look even more beautiful when you wake up and your brain tries to catch up with the world, you seem like the type.’

He says, and for the third time this night he shocked you.

‘Sorry? Too fast? Maybe, but I've been biting my tongue for as long as I've known you. like every cell in my being was screaming to make you laugh, to be the reason you laugh. And seeing you drenched after getting out of the shackles that asshole put you in, seeing your face light up again like you remembered you are alive? I just want to make sure your mind never goes back to clouds of doubt that you aren’t deserving of everything a real man can offer.’ 

Oh! OH!

He doesn’t stop, tripping over some words, you yourself never saw him like this, trying to catch up with his own thoughts, fixing mistakes he stutters out.

‘Woah, that’s a lot. I know. I should be poring everything out right now, very bad timing’

At least he recognizes it.

‘But…ever since we met, I find myself always around you, like there was some sort of running joke I wasn’t aware of. Suddenly we had mutual friends, same gym, same schedules, same coffee shop, same hobbies, same taste in decor, it was some kind of twisted torment to be pinning over you while you were in a stable relationship, constantly seeing you like a reminder that you are…too much of compatibility for me to be just a coincidence.’

Was he two steps behind or two steps ahead of you? Did it matter? He was there, wasn’t he? A friend of a friend? An acquaintance from all of your usual spots? A guy with whom you go to pottery class every Thursday afternoon? A neighbor down the street who gifted you a new watering can when yours rusted from being left out during winter. A friend who makes sure your cup is full and the plate never empty when he sits next to you? 

You think of what you would use to describe him as that isn't a gentleman.  It wasn't rose either, nor petals, nor any poetic shit you come up with when you think of him. 

He had a honeyed smile, talked in the same sweet way, with a saccharine voice, like you would get a sugar rush every time he spoke to you. Tone soft, precious, like he was reading poetry rather than spitting lies one after another. He wasn't some bad guy in your story, far from it. 

He loves you, you are almost certain of that. Even beyond his facade, beyond the dark glimmer of his gaze when he thinks you aren't looking. He truly loves you, maybe that love is mixed with obsession, maybe a bit of hatred too. Hatred for making him wait so long, hatred for dating that guy instead of him, hatred for your uncertain words the day he confessed under the rain. Yet that hatred was never directed to you, for he never turned his hypothetical rose thorns towards you, he was always soft, delicate, gentle. There is that word again, gentle. He was a gentle man, your man, yet you couldn't use it to describe him completely without feeling that there is something missing.

You think back of the day you went to pick your things from your ex's place, Joshua was there, funnily enough, he drove you there after a date you two went to. Your ex boyfriends dropped your stuff unceremoniously in your hands then glazed back at Joshua waiting in her car, then back at you.

‘That dude…You..’

‘What?’

‘I know I've been an ʼʼasshole’’.’ 

He says, mockingly muttering out those words, as he doesn't believe he ever was in the wrong throughout your relationship- ‘but that guy is bad news, a real creep’

‘What do you mean?’

You never heard someone use creep as a word to attach to Joshua. 

‘Ugh’, a groan, like the need for explanation shouldn't exist at all, like it should be so obvious. You are reminded of all the times he would act like your questions were stupid and once again you are glad you don't have to put up with him. 

‘Are you seriously asking that? He was always two steps behind you, every time there was an event he was there! Every time I open socials there he is, next to you! Like he was your boyfriend and not me, and do you know how creepy it is when he calls me for you!’

‘Calls you?’

‘Duh, like he just says, where are you? Why does he want to know, even when I broke up with you, hold and behold, his ID was showing up on my phone as you finally left to swallow in your own pity party’

He irks you, with his words and part of you wants to just snatch your stuff from his musty hands and leave…but part of you wants to hear him out. Wants to know if it is really true Joshua was talking with your ex while the two of you were dating. He never mentioned that, hell you didn't even know he had his number, your ex never joined your friend group, hell you even forced him to join you on events they would be present. And Joshua never put much attention on who you were dating, then again he never put attention on the fact he liked you either.

‘Did he now? You sure you aren’t just bitter I am moving on?’

‘Wow, wooow’ He boasts, loud and loutish, and you don’t even have to turn around to know Joshua now had his window rolled down. What a circus, and the head clown was convinced his nose is a red ball and that it is in fact fabulous. 

‘Think what you want, you are missing out on a catch like me, not the other way around. Be with a stalker if you want, I don’t care’ 

He rambles on for a couple minutes more, about how you are insane to think he would ever think twice about you after today, and that you better not come crawling back after you realise what mess you made for yourself, you stop listening and check if all your things are in the busted-out basket. Once you conclude that what could be left with him isn’t important enough to wait for him to finish his rant you scoop your things back up, away from his ugly basket. 

Once you turn you see Joshua with one leg out of the car, eyebrows raised, eyes widened as if he was a meerkat caught in some trouble, back straightening up once your eyes meet. You chuckle and your ex must have realised you aren’t paying him attention anymore, with a surprisingly short string of curses he slammed the door shut. 

Joshua returns your smile once you are near enough for him to hold onto stuff you were carrying, pushing them into the backseat. 

‘He is louder when there aren’t people around. Glad you won’t have to hear such badly articulated sentences anymore’

‘What about you?’

‘What about me?’

‘Aren’t you glad you won’t have to listen to him anymore?’

A pause. Then a shake of his head and a laugh, he doesn't do it condisending way, rather he does it to himself, you soon realize why, once he mumbles out next words like a secret confession.

‘I tried not to listen to him speak in the first place, but then again I wasn't the one in relationship with him, couple of exchanged words that are ignored don't come close being with him’

‘Woah, Joshua ignoring people, that's a new one…’

‘Well he was always a churlish pal, lacking much grace when talking about…others. I don’t think paying attention to whatever brash words may come out of his mouth are worth anything really.’ 

He gives an awkward smile, the one that tells you more than words. You pretend not to notice the pause, a deflection on not to say he talked bad about you specifically, you nod along, agreeing. 

So wherever that question comes up, wherever someone asks you who your boyfriend is, what's he like. You would smile and say. Gentleman, because the parts of him that would question that statement are the parts that only you will see, and you will make sure of that. You will leave your location on, ask for a ride even when you don’t have to, turn a blind eye to his soft influence, pretend you don’t know that lucky meetings were not dependent on fate but on how good Joshua knew you.

word count. 2.9k (fully written part)

warning(s). mature themes, explicit words and scenes, alchohol mentioned

a/n. my man woozi was focus in the last one so give the applause to hoshi this time aka, the scene that inspired this smau

▶ prev - series masterlist - next

› 2 ~ trading luck for a zoo ticket

How did you end up in his bed of all of the places? Lights off, hands in his hair and a list of regrets under your belt. Well under your imaginary belt now, your actual one was somewhere in the pile of clothes that were discarded in a haste. You really don't have it in you to question it really, you have somehow stumbled into the tiger's den and right into the said tiger's claws, who are pretty intent on mapping out your almost naked body, touching everywhere and nowhere near enough to satisfy the newly discovered itch you to have of him.

For heaven's sake you were flirting with his best friend an hour or so ago, and now you were making out with the guy who thought dipping fries in lemonade was revolutionary, pretty sure that is some kind of a downgrade? Your supposed meal plan for tonight was a pink buzzcut with a coke zero on the side. You were pretending to care about your diet this week, burning calories or whatever. Not like any student's diet was good, but you are sure the striking freak above you is acting like he you were his first meal of the day with the way he was inhaling your kisses like starved man, trailing them down to your neck just enough to give you a moment to breathe and let the sighs you were holding in spill out.

Once your lips are free and the oxygen comes to your brain do you realize how wild the situation you are in right now. You wish you could enjoy this moment with your whole body and mind too but the image of the guy flashes behind your eyes and you bite your lower lip, shit, you really are a mess, what were you even doing now.

A harsh bite on your neck was a call back to reality, the one that you for sure knew left a pinkish bud behind, that would bloom into a pain in the ass of a full blown clematis in the morning. Hoshi didn’t like the sudden absence of your voice or your touch for that matter, you haven’t even realised that your fingers left his hair to clutch to the sheets below you. He lips pressed into a pout, head raised from your aching neck as he stares at you with an expression full of dramatics of a toddler being refused extra five minutes at the swing, personally offended by your lack of previous enthusiasm to let him run free with praises to boast.

‘Do you want to stop? Or puke? That’s not a good look you are giving me…’ His pout dropped and his face twisted into a worrisome one when you didn't say anything, your mind lagging behind the cool beam of flickering passing cars that reflected onto his half naked figure, air stuck in your throat, you couldn’t even control your expression of some conflicted feeling bottling up in the pit of your stomach. 

‘Did punch suck that badly? I swear I only added one bottle of carrot juice before realizing it wasn’t orange…’

‘Huh? You added what now? Is that why it tasted absolutely horrid tonight?’ You laugh, a breathy one like your mind glad to think of something that actually had substance, yet that was enough for him to light up, sitting up instead of awkwardly hovering above you, seemingly pausing in his advances but still close enough for you to feel the warmth of his body, to feel his presence. 

‘Look, it isn’t my fault Mingyu sucks at labeling stuff, who keeps carrot juice in frat’s fridge! ‘ He whines out, making exaggerated movements with his hands, justifying his mistake before you can fault him for anything, so you stifle a giggle behind your hand, the expression on his face almost begging to be teased, but he comes back from his attempts to save his drink mixing skills and ask you again.

 ‘Honesty…So do you want or don’t wanna puke, should I get you to the bathroom? What’s the situation?’

‘Ah…no no, sorry, I just got lost in thoughts’ You answer too honestly, before you can even catch yourself. 

‘Had clarity of mind and wanna dip?’ He asks, shrugging as if to tell he wouldn't judge.

‘Not really? You…aren’t a follower or bro code or whatever you frat boys call it? I thought you were like besties?’

He looks at you like you grew a second head, his bleached eyebrows raising comically high and you can almost see the cogs in his head turning, trying to catch up, and when he finally makes a connection he still doesn’t grasp it fully but enough to give an answer.

‘Ah…I think I get it… You and Jihoon, right? I mean…I don't think he would get mad particularly?’

‘Wow, a way to deliver it, and here I thought I was hitting all the marks, I swear he didn’t glare me down as much as he did before, I even got his socials last week!’ You exclaim, pressing palms of your hands into your cheeks, and Soonyoung smiles at your reaction, finding it adorable that it’s you who is acting childish now. 

‘Hearing a girl say that is so weird, and no I didn’t mean it like that. Actually the opposite? And you got his information willingly? He rarely talks about that shit! Congrats!’ He taps his hands together like in some form of mock clapping, like you won something, you thought you did but it seems you were mistaken.

‘I am going to need you to explain what you mean by any of that?’ Your face drops even more, and he can see that you are not amused by his encouragement for your well done ‘moves’

‘By him not giving insta? It's not that he is some playboy, he is just super duper private, well not to me, we have been buddies since middle school! He even told me about you, so like you are definitely hitting the “marks”!’

‘I didn’t mean that! But if I was doing good then wouldn’t that mean he was actually interested in me? Why go for me then? Are you sabotaging your best friend? Is he actually not that interested in me? Are you sabotaging me!?’

‘Woah slow down, I can’t process all that, you speak too fast…Well first off, I like you too duh? My dick is still pretty hard too from just making out with you, is the punch getting to you? pretty sure I made that clear with all of the flirting and you know this… ’ His hand points between the two of you.

‘You are so weird… I don't want to be stuck in some weird friendship feud.’

‘No it's cool, we cool. Well, it’s more that that doesn't count, Woozi and I, we are kinda over such things. As I said he wouldn't mind...Besides if you are kissing me you are also kissing him, like you know kisses transfer and stuff I am basically forming a connection between you two!’

‘Wait what? I need to lay down, this is making less and less sense as you speak, stop please.’ You groan, and shake your head, you can feel the headache incoming and you aren’t sure if it was because of the weird punch or his words that aren’t connecting in your brain at all.

‘Oh..you don’t know? Me and Jihoon are a thing.’

‘Huh? You are gay?’

‘No?’ He glances down on your bra covered breast, nodding as if he was agreeing with something in his head rather than your question. ‘No, definitely not gay.’ He confirms his previous statement, not raising his gaze. 

‘Did you just?’ 

Soonyoung makes a small noise that sounded like some type of squeak when he meets your eyes and doesn’t even try to deny it he just bursts in a contagious laugh, you follow almost immediately. The whole situation made the conversation you were having seem so absurd, like you slipped in some badly written comedy show where actors weren’t given the scripts. 

What surprises you even more is while your voice keeps filling the room up, Soonyoung takes his blanket and drapes it over your shoulder. Pressing his eyes shut when his hands approach your breast to make sure the blanket doesn’t fall down, it's a nice action but he still glanced down at them when he sat back down but you don’t have it in you to judge him.

‘Even if your tits look so good I don't think I would want Jihoon to get mad at me for you getting a cold while you are with me…unless you want me to warm them up with my hands…or mouth?’ 

A grin that covers half of his face makes you aware that it's a joke but the evil sparkle in your eyes makes you second guess, everything about this whole night is off, you aren’t sure what to even think and before you can make a retort he starts speaking again. 

‘I will chill out don't worry, but seriously, we are a thing, I guess it is gay but it isn’t like I don’t know, closed? We just sorta are a thing without ever becoming one officially, we are lovers totally, that’s true. He told me when he met you and sure I was kinda jealous but you are like extra cute, so it's forgiven.’

‘You have such a unique way of looking at things, just as I think I know what you are talking about you spat out something unbelievable and I am back at the beginning of not understanding anything.’

‘I will take that as a compliment, as I was saying… do you want to fuck me? You are here aren’t you so why the sudden doubt, come on…don’t be a scaredy cat, you can think about him tomorrow.’ He says, trailing his fingers up your arm, making you shiver. ‘We ought to be close. After you go out with him you will be around me too, nothing wrong with being a little extra friendly…I mean buy one get two deal, am I right?’ 

You choke out an answer, which were just incoherent strings of questions back at him, once you realize that you are out of breath you stop. He only smirks mischievously, pulling on your arm just with enough strength for you to hit his naked chest. Head pillowing just above his heart, the fast beating of it grounded you, like a melody that it isn't just you who is affected, despite his overconfidence and smug expression followed by more teasing touches of 'fixing’ the blanket over your shoulders. 

‘I wonder how you converse with Jihoon if you can't handle me teasing you, he is more intense then I am.' He says, tilting his head like an overgrown cat thinking of mischief, his eyes twinkling with not so well thought out plans. 'Come on, I am not an ass, I can take a hint… But still my pride is wounded so can I get a date? Fair exchange!’

‘I… I guess?’

'Guess? Guess what? My social security number? I guess that too, but come on, don't make me beg...unless you are into that? I can get accustomed to that, maybe.'

‘Sure we can hang out.’

He keeps acting oblivious to the disgusted expression you sent his way. ‘Aren’t you just stubborn, sure we can ‘hang out’...Want to put your clothes back on or can I?’

‘Can you turn the lights on instead?’

He makes an almost annoyed sound under his breath with a click of his tongue, before looking away, ‘I can’t…’.

‘...Seriously?’

‘No like I actually can’t, they are broken. Haha…’ He chuckles awkwardly, ‘That’s why the lamp is on, I mean the vibes too but we haven’t gotten on changing them yet.’

‘Hey don’t look at me like that! I liked it better when you were confused! Not when you are looking at me like I am incompetent dude? Don’t be a bummer, babe.’ He flips over next to you, rolling over on his stomach like a wet dog, the troublemaker inside of him seemingly disappearing into the thin air. 

‘Am I such bad company that you want to dip immediately?’ He asks, turning his head to look at you, there is a frown attached to his light almost non-existing bleached eyebrows.

You edge your body further on the opposite side of the bed so you can see his face rather than the muscles of his back. ‘I didn’t say that.’

‘Well I am picking up those vibes so…’

‘You are quite annoying.’

‘Jihoon says the same thing, but aren’t you a bit cruel now? It isn’t like I brought you here against your will?’

‘Sorry, I feel awkward now…’

‘Tell me about that, me too, but at least you aren’t stuck in the crowd of drunk twenty-something year-olds with commitment issues and bad sense of personal hygiene.’ He pressed his palm against his cheek, turning more towards you leaning his weight on his hip.

‘That’s oddly specific?’

He shrugs, ‘It’s a frat party, Jiwoon’s little celebration of passing some class and staying on the team, wasn’t particularly listening when he was speaking.’

‘It’s a she?’ Now it’s your turn to frown, he gasps like you told him the person was a penguin in disguise and not a girl.

‘Wait? For real? I thought the make up was a self expression kind of thing for him-err-her?’

‘Yeah? At least I think so? I know her-umm them because of Eun-bi so I never asked…’ 

‘Cool…would it be weird if I asked? Wait, scratch that, he is in the frat! Not sisterhood?’

‘I mean, you do have other girls in it too! Jeong-something was in it, the blond girl who is pre-law? She is in it!’ You defend your point with another example, yet he just gasps more loudly like his whole friend group revealed they were zoo animals. 

‘Jeonghan? He is a boy! I know that for sure, I saw it with my own two eyes, unfortunately in action..’ His words were muttered in the deafening tone of a spoiled child.

You barely have it in you to hide the chuckle that escapes you. ‘What the?’ 

‘Ugh! Whatever, what were you even at the party for? No offence but you don’t scream frat activities for me, the clothes were telling me you have more flair then that, and well Jihoon, would rather eat rocks then admit he liked someone normal-ish. Don’t tell him I said that, it makes him look like a prick...’

‘Jihoon invited me here, he fleaked out on me for some school work and felt guilty I think. And I was looking for an excuse to you know I could ask him out naturally, like “hey, it's weird seeing you like this but I kinda like it, we should definitely go out sometimes!”, get it?’ You explain, throwing your hands around in defeat. 

He beams for some reason and tries, you aren’t quite sure if that’s what he was doing, to make you feel better. ‘Woah? Man you really suck at fulfilling your original intentions, I see why your mind was not into it, procrastination’s final boss of waiting for the right moment that it passed by you, at least you ended up in the right dorm.’

‘Right dorm? Jihoon lives here?!’ You almost jump at the words and he smiles almost amused at this point. 

‘Duh, I guess you can’t see because of the lights but yeah, we share this room, the perks of fucking around and finding out, aka Jihoon’s roommate got sick of me being around so much so he left us to it and moved out!’

‘Wait…wait! Would that mean he could walk in at any minute and see me here!’

‘I mean in theory, yeah? But he won’t, he is busy finishing some things at the studio and probably won’t be back before sunrise.’

‘Don’t fucking scare me like that!’

‘Huhuhu…Got scared he will see you in my bed and think we fucked?’ He teases, his mouth curved to the left in most jerk-like smirk, eyebrows rising and falling in mocking notions. 

‘We almost did?’

‘You also promised me a date too.’

‘I didn’t promise nothing’

‘Tomato, thomato, same diffrence! Shh, do you want something to drink?’

‘Hey! Don’t switch the subject!’ You hit his arm once but before you can land another playful hit he is on his feet, stepping towards a magnet covered gray box, which you assume is the fridge despite being covered in clothes.

‘Let’s see what we have…’ Soonyoung muses and opens the mini-fridge, ’We have some old beer…Nah, don’t want you to puke, maybe cold water? We have some coke but only if we wake up super early to replace it?’ 

‘Oh I have some fizzled out lemonade?’ He turns his head in an uncomfortable way to look at you. ‘Or do you want to go out for a drive? 

‘Now?’

‘Yeah why not, I am sure at least one 7/11 is open, or like a drive-through? I am kinda hungry too…’

‘Ugh, what time is it?’ You look around, looking for either your phone or some kind of clock in the partial darkness, your eyes land on a digital clock on the tableside of the other bed in the room and you audibly wince when you see red 05:17 glaring at you. 

Shit. It’s almost morning already, just your luck.

▶series taglist:

@hongjshuas

warning(s). mature themes, alchohol consumption, toxic relationship mention

word count. 1.9k

a/n. Oooh, another hoshi fic, you aren't bored of it, no way- (longer chapter tomorrow where things actually happen-this is somewhat of a prologue?)

▶ series masterlist - next

› 1 ~ no, don't play hamliton during my breakdown?

The moment you enter the small apartment you are met with three pairs of eyes, three heads popping from the couch towards the door in the speed of light and you would’ve laughed if you weren’t annoyed by their not so subtle ghosting of your messages. 

‘What?’ You say, trying to seem normal enough and not a few minutes away from busting in tears, frowning as you untie your shoes, cursing the shoelaces in your head for suddenly becoming a tangled long mess. 

‘How was the workshop?’ Eun-bi speaks first, leaning her hands on the couch as she stands up looking at your losing battle with your shoes, if you focused on her you would see half amused half worried expression covering her face, itching to come and rip the shoes off your feet so you can converse face to face and not like mother and her angsty teen daughter. 

‘Like any other, I breathed in too many chemicals that had safety hazards written on them and ended up not finishing any of my previous projects.’ You say finally managing to pull your shoes off, butt placed on the welcoming mat as the late summer heat overwhelms your body and you don’t have any real energy to get up.

‘Come on, get up, you look like some sore loser, it’s actually sad to look at you,’ Seungkwan says,you can only see his head from where you are, his hair pulled back with what looked identical to your headband and his eyebrows furrowed much like yours, ‘Are you actually sad about that keychain? I thought you already threw out all of the things he gave you, even Beardsley the bear didn’t survive your anger so what’s the deal with a simple keychain?’

‘It isn’t just a simple keychain you annoying idiot, it’s a lucky charm, I had it on when I passed my entrance exam, I had it on when I passed the job interview, I had it on when I visited grandma at the hospital and that day she started walking again, it’s obviously working. The last time I didn't wear it I got hit by a bicycle in the middle of the park! And when I forgot the bag at school that had it on I got drenched in the rain! I can’t leave the house without it!’

‘Well, if it worked that bastard wouldn't have been a bastard? Or do you pick and choose when luck applies? Besides, luck doesn’t work like that, both good and bad things happen despite you having or not having it, an irrelevant variable if you will.’ Seungkwan says, his tone measured but you can see he actually believes it shouldn’t be such a big deal to rely on a single object to dedicate your life.

‘You! Aren’t you just the brightest!’ You snap at him standing up from your pitiful corner in the hallway and drag your feet towards your room. Ignoring his words completely even if he is making sense you refuse to acknowledge it, too high on the emotions of losing something you considered secreted despite being a reminder of your shitty luck with men, funny how things work. With the slam of the door you shut yourself out from both the conversation and the world, falling on your bed and tracing the small cartoonish cats that make out the pattern of your bedsheets. 

You think back on your ex again and the way your luck finally started to pick up when you received that charm, on your first date with him, he won it by pure luck while aiming for a bunny plushie he never got in the end. It was made of cold silver metal, cheap in quality yet heavy to touch, a star whose edges you traced over and over again till they lost their original sharpness. You put it on every bag you have, never leaving the safety of your home without it, you even went as far to organize your wardrobe and stylistic choices around it. 

It’s true that part of you feels ashamed to trust in such insignificant things, especially since you basically hate the guy who gave it to you, finding it so embarrassing that even your friends didn’t know the length you went to always have it on. Call it superstitious if you will but you avoided going under any ladder, turned around if a black cat crossed your path, you knocked on wood almost daily and regularly threw salt on any opening in your home. And yet you somehow lost the thing that you placed the highest. 

Before you can try to rationalize the loss and try to accept that your life will be just fine, your phone lights up. And the name that graces your screen lights up your complexion, only to be brought back down when you read the messages. 

He was your newest obsession, a stand-off-ish senior who you met by chance at some pretentious art event you both were forced to go to by your extroverted friends, bonding over similar music tastes. Since then you tried your best to get close to the guy, you barely got a hold of his number and only recently got his socials. To you he was like a side character of some indie film, and you mean that it is the best way, considering you always fell for those kinds of guys, the ones that know what they want and live their lives with a unique sense of self, not falling under the toxic pressure of the crowd, the loner but a happy loner. So to see him messaging you first made your heart skip a beat and all your previous troubles disappear. 

Before you can further fall into the small depressive state and have a full breakdown you hear a sound or rather a song that makes every muscle in your body tense up. Loud and impossible to miss someone, you are pretty sure you know who, that is screaming with the barely heard original vocals of the beginning of ‘Alexander Hamliton’. At this point you just want to bury yourself under your sheets no matter how hot you actually are and forget you even exist, but among impressive high singing there is annoying knocking on your door.

‘Come out, we have a party to get ready for!’ Seungkwan’s high pitched voice that is bordering actual yelling draws out Eun-bi’s screaming of the lyrics in the background. ‘Or will you actually cry with a musical about fonding fathers as your sobbing yam?’

‘Scram you inconsiderate jerks! Let me be in my feels for once!’ You yell back but he continued knocking not letting up, you are certain tomorrow you will get yet another complaint from your neighbors. 

‘Nuh-ih, last time we did, you disappeared for 48 hours and we had to organize a search for you! Only to find you taking a nap at a damn cat cafe next town over!’ 

‘Girl, get your ass in here, someone just texted me that someone we know so well will be at the party!’ Eun-bi’s screeching came to half so she can pass on the message of someone you probably don’t know the name of.

Pitter of your feet moving rapidly against the wooden floor is heard before your door is slammed open by your own hand. ‘You are totally lying, he is busy with work.’

Seungkwan jumped a step back at your sudden entrance. ‘First off, that's a bit creepy to know and second, that’s what got you out and not your worried best friend of years?’ 

‘Shh, you jerk. He told me, we were supposed to meet tomorrow for an assignment he offered to help me with, but he cancelled.’ You press your pointed finger against his mouth and you have a sense of decency not to laugh in his face for how funny he looks paused.

‘That’s tomorrow’ Hansol butts in, his head poking out the corner of the hallway and he has some sticky yellow on his face.’ And I am like 80% sure he is at the party tonight. Jun told me today that they were going out and asked me to come.’

‘How do you even know him…that doesn’t matter, it actually added salt to my injury considering he found a party more important than meeting with me, so I was the one who got cancelled.’

‘Maybe hanging out with friends is more fun than work? Come on, he has been helping out for a while now and you still haven’t asked him out. He probably wants to relax if he is busy with actual work?’ Hansol continues on, in stepping fully instead of hovering and you can see that he is wearing an apron smudged in something pink and smells of fruit and cleaning supplies.

‘Well it is awkward to ask him out while he is talking about music history…and he gets so concentrated that I feel guilty if I have to interrupt him with actually important questions. Imagine if I asked him out and he just totally ignored me, I would bury myself and pass away in shame.’

‘Well…come to the party and ask him out then! The atmosphere would be more relaxed and you can easily woo him away somewhere more private.’ Seunkgwan buts in, pulling your hand off his face and you are surprised he didn’t do it sooner. 

‘Yeah, what he said.’ Hansol added in and turned back into the kitchen. 

‘But but I lost my lucky charm. What if I embarrass myself or even worse I get hit by a truck.’

‘I think you will be just fine, no need to write your obituary just yet.’ Eun-bi says tapping your back in what should be a comforting manner but it was making you cough your life out with her strength. 

While you pick yourself up from the unsuccessful assisation attempt you hear Hansol's voice from the kitchen. ‘I think I failed…’ 

‘How do you even manage to fail to make a less than ten steps cocktail?’

The rest of the day moves like a movie slideshow with an obnoxious playlist of musical songs and kpop girl groups that were popular more than a decade ago. You nod your head when asked for opinions on what to wear and drown the tequila shots that are being poured as the night approaches,chewing on some passion fruit that was supposed to be a cocktail ingredient pretending you weren’t praying to every deity you remembered existed.

You try to ignore the nagging feeling that something will go wrong and get ready, placing a bit more care then you would want to admit, wanting to bring the good kind of attention to yourself in hope you ‘accidentally bump’ into Jihoon. Going for that suffering artist that definitely didn’t want to be hare, right. As if looking good would bring luck to your side. 

And as your phone rests on the sticky kitchen table you almost miss the notification sound from the bickering that was happening between Vernon and Seungkwan over who knows what. It was him, once again texting first and your eyes widened in shock as you read the preview of the message, mouth parting as you shake your head and drown down another shot before you actually open the message bubble. Fingers shaking as you write the response.

▶series taglist:

@hongjshuas

warning(s). mentions of smoking (no characters doing the action, just a singular mention of a cigarette)

wc. 1.3k

a/n. very short woozi pov to explain his side of things (partially), minor syntactic edits made :)

▶ prev - series masterlist - next

› 6 ~ four of clubs

When Jihoon first saw you there weren’t fireworks going off, actually, the only thing going off was the arrow on his annoyance scale. He knew four people in this house, which in retrospect wasn’t a small number. Soonyoung, Jun, Wowoo, friends that dragged him here, and Hansol, junior who knew not to bother him while he was pretending to be part of the furniture. The school year just started and he was already done with social gatherings and blushing freshmen asking for his number. 

He is full of regret, bursting on the seams as he clutches on his cards. Game night, something his friends forced upon him, was turning out to be a big pain in his ass. He wasn’t paying much attention to both the game or people around him—but there was an itch behind his eye to raise his eyes and look around. Like he was experiencing an awful sense of deja vu running through his veins, a pre-recorded destiny waiting for him to push it in motion.

He lifted his head and saw you, the you who was awkwardly sitting parallel to him at the high table filled with stale chips and soda drinks and a lonely stack of cards that weren't being used. He was pretty sure the scene you were painting by just sitting there among the smoke of a half burned cigarette was unknowingly the essence of some old painting. 

You were pretty despite the slight furrow in your brows as you looked down on your cards: were you given a bad hand? That all made you more endearing, your earnings were crooked, eyeliner smudged and shirt slipping off your shoulder. The serenity you embodied a moment ago was broken by an arm wrapping around your shoulders, tugging the shirt back up to your neck. Some pretty boy sat down next to you and just like that the predisposition of greatness disappeared.

True to his statement, the short moment didn't send butterflies to his stomach. He was satisfied with the single glance and returned back to his bubble.

That was it, or so he thought. But a stray four of clubs that fell out of your hands in the middle of the game had other plans. It nestled right next to his left foot, numbered side up. He would’ve chuckled considering that was the card he needed to win, and then disappear in some corner but as you kneeled to grab it you hit your forehead against the table. He winced at the same time as you let out a painful whimper, fingers pressing onto the possible bump that was forming beneath your skin.

And without thinking Jihoon just grabbed the fallen card for you, handing it to you.

Jihoon didn’t feel his heart skipping a beat when your eyes met, he didn’t feel his knees buckle when you offered a sheepish grin and quiet thanks. Jihoon—did, however, offer you a half smile when you asked if he saw your card.

The second time he saw you, it was months later, this time there wasn’t a pretty boy hanging off your shoulders – it was just you. The you, who were standing next to a large ficus plant, frozen in time as you glared at your cup. This time, he offered a greeting – short and dry, but open at the same time. You returned the dryness, but he doesn’t remember much of the conversation to be honest. You spoke about music, he was sure of that at least.

“Don’t tell me you don’t know them? They are so cool!”

Despite the Seunkwans laugh in the background, Jihoon could hear the disbelief in your voice. If he had concentrated enough he probably could have heard the little gasp you let out before his comment not knowing some of some band, he long ago forgot the name of. Perhaps he wasn’t that good of a listener but it didn’t matter, you seemed pleased with his short responses and critical add-ons.

You exchanged numbers, but not socials. He wasn’t sure why but perhaps a part of you didn’t want the loudness of one particular person to scare you off. You count that day as your first meeting, he never corrected you.

Jihoon wasn’t swept off his feet by you, not really. He helped you study and even made it a weekly thing, yeah. And at first it was just that, speaking strictly about school, projects and an occasional dry joke. In his head he added you on the list of people he can speak freely with without receiving a dirty look.

Jihoon didn’t get tongue twisted even if your shoulder brushed against his over and over again as he was explaining something to you. He just continued on, made a note to write a study guide for you—despite never taking that class. This thing you had was just an addition to his schedule, a motivation to not lock up in his studio but rather to spend time outside.

Jihoon didn't lose breath when he saw you laugh at his especially funny albeit dry joke. Truly, your bright smiling face and melodic giggling didn't have any effect on him. He just chuckled along with you and took a sip of his coffee that was suddenly too sweet for his liking.So what if he never mentioned it to anybody? In fact that just proved you weren’t making it hard to distinguish between annoyance and passiveness. That was kinda wrong, he never found you annoying?

That confusing feeling began to grow only just recently. Somewhere between forgetting to answer your text and missing you. It was weird—unlike him when he was with any other friend or acquaintance. He knew that was a fact yet he just didn’t want to admit to himself he favored you over others.

So the cycle began. There were days when he let himself embrace the warmth you offered. Replying the moment he saw your message, his fingers even started typing out every single thought he had that was connected to you. It became a reflex on those days.

However, there were days when just the thought of your flushed face made him aggravated and filled with a weird sense of guilt.

Guilt. It was an emotion towards oneself about what appears to be breakage of personal moral codex and therefore causing harm to someone, something or oneself.

Jihoon, once again pretended not to know why, the same way he didn’t know what kind of feelings were flourishing towards you, or in the same way he doesn't notice the true meaning behind the glimmer of your eyes when they meet his and the same exact way he turned a blind eye on the way Soonyoung looked at him back in high school.

The wish to not acknowledge the play of feelings that was going on wasn’t the only thing that stopped him from telling others. Soonyoung’s and his own particularities were there too, one wrong step and the whole history of how things become and are could be crumbling down once again.

Jihoon was bad at communicating, he was bad at listening, bad at confrontation but he was good at yearning. Wrote countless songs about in fact, wove it in hundred tracks and even more notes. So he will yearn, in that useless cycle – hoping something breaks it.

But there was one thing he didn’t expect to happen when it finally broke, it was you in his studio shivering despite the air condition turned off. You were never shy, sure you were awkward at times and coy at others but never this reticent.

He expected Soonyoung to be the reason it breaks but not in this way, never in this way. And for the first time Jihoon wasn’t pretending not to know, he genuinely didn’t know what was it that caused you to bite your lip so hard or what made Soonyoung teasing words sound so chilling.

The feeling of deja vu returned but this time he unconsciously realized that it was not greatness what it was alluding to.

▶series taglist:

@httpsxnox @soonwoosz @bambishuas @my-neurodivergent-world @studioeisa