#ughaera

woong likes nights like this. it’s chilly, but not cold; it’s peaceful, but not deafeningly quiet, with just enough ambient noise from the gentle rumbling of the wind and distant chatter from the people around them. people, notably couples, couples and well, more couples. it’s what people do on a friday night at hangang river, right? they go on dates, hold hands and look into each other’s moonlit eyes, whatever cheesy shit he’s seen in the movies. he calls them “cheesy shit” but really, there’s no denying he kinda, really, wants to do all of that with the person next to him. except, they’re on no date, just two friends enjoying the view of the hangang river together.

“this feels like a date.” his words broke the comfortable silence between them, a playful grin spreading across his face. “and you,” he cheekily nudges the girl in her side, “feel like my girlfriend.” it’s a joke. well, at least, he hopes it comes across as one, even if he kind of, sort of, definitely meant what he said. there’s no way he was the only one feeling the romantic energy in the air, right? even if it’s not emitting from them, it’s definitely emitting around them. he glances around at the couples nearby and lets out a soft and almost envious chuckle. “so this is where people go on dates, huh.” what was that? he’s acting like a loser who has never been on dates before and that sure as hell is not true. he has been on his fair share of dates, just not with her and the idea of possibly being on one with her right then is making him mindlessly ramble on a little more than usual, almost as if he was nervous or something.

the situation they were in felt like a juxtaposition of some sorts — he couldn’t help noticing how her presence, one that was usually fiery and flamboyant, felt a little out of place in the peaceful tranquil of the night. not that she stuck out weirdly, no, if anything, she probably only stood out with that aura that seems to follow her everywhere she goes; that aura that has him following her everywhere she goes. it’s an aura hard to ignore, proven true by the men (and women) stealing glances at her despite being on their own dates. he doesn’t blame them, in fact, he understands that all too well. be it from the crowd beneath the stage, or the window from across her apartment, there’s one thing woong struggles with all the time and that is, taking his eyes off her. 

for a long time, whenever he was asked about his family, woong would think about the one in busan, the one he was born into and raised in for most of his life. lately, however, things started changing for him. he’s not sure when exactly but he’s starting to regard these people as family too and this time, it was by choice.

these people, namely the two girls he was lodged between: one had most of their blanket pulled to her side and the other, unwittingly rolled over to his side of their makeshift bed, fort, whatever they call the space they had set up for this sleepover, leaving him with barely any space or blanket to snuggle into. how was he supposed to fall asleep in this state? talk about mission impossible. 

okay, to be fair, he was the one that weaselled his way in between them, complaining about how lonely he felt at the side, so, yea, this one’s on him. his growling stomach wasn’t making it any easier for him as all he could think about was how nice it would be to have some fried chicken and beer on this chilly february night, and not squashed between two girls with barely any room to breathe. he wouldn’t complain if he was getting a loving cuddle instead of this human sandwich he was in — it certainly is no fun being the piece of meat in between.

speaking of meat... there it goes again, another rumble of his tummy that he prays neither of them heard. he briefly considered getting up to order food but he knew that’ll wake both of them and it wouldn’t be a pretty sight, at least not something he’d want to deal with right now, when he was both cold and hungry. getting up and returning to his place across the corridor wasn’t even an option, not when he feels someone’s leg stretch out across his, shackling him down to his spot. great.

another rumble of his tummy came as his tipping point and he finally throws in the white flag, blurting out the words he had contemplated voicing out the past hour or so. he could deal with the cold, he’d like to believe he’s a strong man anyway, but hunger? nah, he ain’t got the willpower to fight that.

“I can’t sleep.” 

there. done. said it. 

his sudden announcement shatters the silence in the room as he peeks out from under his (well, now haera’s) blanket, waiting for a pillow (or a string of expletives) to be thrown his way. if there’s one thing he’s learnt from being neighbours with the both of them, it is that they aren’t the friendliest when they get awaken abruptly.

but he figured it was worth it if he got to satisfy his cravings and knowing them, he’d probably get an earful too when they find out he ate without them so, he might as well get that out of the way now. woong sits right up and kicks whatever’s left of his blanket off, the cold hitting him right away though it comes as a relief instead. 

a sheepish smile paints his face as he peers over at his friends on either side of him.

eating alone is not sad. feeling self-conscious about eating alone is cowardly and weak, and yongji will have none of it. 

nodding her head to her music, she walks into the restaurant, looking like the epitome of confidence and nonchalance as she signals to the server that she’s after a table for one. the menu is nothing new; she’s been here often enough that she knows exactly what she wants, and says as much once she’s seated. 

yongji is so ready to wolf down a bowl of pasta with absolutely no distractions. 

out of the corner of her eye, she can see cautionary glances in her direction from surrounding tables; she’s not sure if the looks are out of recognition or curiosity, but she finds that she doesn’t really care — not with the prospect of cheap, inauthentic, delicious two-star italian food on the way. her phone chimes with a string of incoming texts from hyeju, interrupting her music. 

[ SMS : hey_jude.mp3 ] i’m having lunch [ SMS : hey_jude.mp3 ] and before you ask NO [ SMS : hey_jude.mp3 ] i will not be ordering anything for u and bringing it to practice [ SMS : hey_jude.mp3 ] let me eat my deliciously subpar italian food in PEACE 

it’s not long before a tall glass of root beer is set in front of her, followed closely by her linguine not long after. she’s pumped. excited. it’s her first ‘proper’ meal after a week of instant noodles and binge watching the rest of the money heist episodes she’s behind on, and she’s convinced that absolutely nothing could ruin thi— 

...yongji feels her stomach drop in an instant. 

she slowly pulls her earbuds out of her ears, an amalgamation of dread, fury, horror, irritation, and disgust settling in her bones. there aren’t enough words to describe how quickly nausea develops in her core seeing... her... sitting not ten feet away from where she is. 

yongji hates this — everything about this. and her pasta looks so fucking good too. shit.