#ugsohee

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.

a lukewarm vanilla latte sits on the counter, half finished, bought to ward off the cold winter air, but subsequently forgotten. for yongji, work, so far, has been no different to any other day: boring... droning... absolutely mind-numbing, and if it weren’t for her revived nintendo switch and stardew valley, the monotonous hum of washing machines would’ve driven her insane within hour one of her shift. 

she drops her feet from where they’d been propped up on the counter when the bell above the front door rings as its pushed open. it’s a fairly wordless transaction, automatic on both her and the customer’s part, the way he hands her a receipt, she takes it, walks to the back room behind the front counter to retrieve his dry cleaning, and takes his money. 

( every month when he comes in, yongji makes no comment about the suspicious stains on his slacks, and lipstick smudges on the collar of his dress shirts, and how they seem to clash with the gold band around his fourth finger. it’s none of her business, but it is, undoubtedly, entertaining. ) 

he’s in and out within five minutes, and yongji’s back to her virtual farm. 

but what yongji doesn’t factor into her routine is the possibility of the unexpected coming her way. 

it’s not really unexpected to be fair; it’s happened often enough that it doesn’t surprise her. but it doesn’t take away from the idea that it’s unwelcome -- she’s unwelcome, and if this job wasn’t half of her source of income, she would not hesitate to throw some not-so-very tasteful words in the air as she shoves the unwelcome back out of the laundromat. 

when the bell above the front door rings again, yongji peers over the counter to see who walks in, and almost immediately, she feels dread seep deep into her bones. she takes a cautionary glance at the rest of the laundromat, counting how many other people are currently sitting around waiting for their laundry to finish before she turns back to the new ‘customer’, jaw clenched, eyes completely void of any emotion.