#wonpil fic

ONE SHOTS

Lavender and Midnight - fantasy AU [5k]

Band Sessions: Wonpil - he worries bc you’re clumsy [2.3k]

A Confession, of Sorts - he gets a little drunk [4.6k]

Anatomically Correct Heart Shaped Pretzel [1.6k]

Are You Asking Me Out - mafia AU, diamond negotions [1k]

Where’s the First Aid Kit? - “why does my heart hurt?” [1k]

DRABBLES

Jelly Beans - diameter of the sun, ft Sungjin [.6k]

Of Opportunity - “in the movies they throw pebbles” [.5k]

BULLETPOINTS

Amethyst for anxiety

Boyfriend!Wonpil

College AU Wonpil

Highschool!Wonpil

UniStudent!Wonpil

Uni!Wonpil

The most interesting about these kinds of dates wasn't the actual game, but it was seeing his reactions during the game. The way he would slightly suck in his cheeks when he was so close to scoring a goal, or the way he would not hold back on cussing the opponents.

It got you thinking how far can you go before his focus faltered.

It started with you nestling closer into his side, pressing a chaste kiss on his neck. Then your hand started roaming over his sides, before moving towards his leg, giving his thigh soft squeezes.

At this point, he has his bottom lip tucked between his teeth, eyebrows furrowed, controllers clicking as his in-game character ran towards the goal.

It was when he was right in front, about to score the winning goal that you, not so subtly ran your hand over his crotch, palming him in the process.

In a panic, he quickly pressed pause and looked at you. "Does watching me play fifa seriously turns you on?"

You shrugged, blinking innocently, "Maybe?"

“If I give you an orgasm, will you go away?”

"You're willing to pause your game just to make me cum? I'm flattered."

Wonpil giggled at that, his eyes disappearing into crescent moons, "What if I, exit my game," he gently moved his arms from around you, putting his controllers aside as he tugged you to straddle him, "-and we play another game of our own?"

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you brought your lips close to his, "I'm not very good at games, you gotta walk me through it step by step."

“Do you have the instructions?” Wonpil asked tentatively.

You held up a piece of paper victoriously, eyes focused on the arrangement of gingerbread slices.

“Ah, yes, good,” he nodded, hand twitching out to the knife on his side of the table, but stopped and brought it back to himself. “Are you sure it’s cool enough to put it all...?”

You tapped the surface of each one. Much cooler than a few minutes before.

“Yup.”

“Right, that’s great!” He exhaled, silence settling over the two of you. His eyebrows furrowed, wincing as you leant down so your head was level with the table top, as if to analyse the flatness of the gingerbread.  He managed to gather the courage and ask, “Do you want to go first, or...?”

You stood quickly, brashly laughing. “Oh no, not at all! You?”

He shook his head vigorously. “No!”

“But...!” you faltered. “The gingerbread house was your idea!”

You met his gaze, staring into those puppy-dog eyes and immediately melted. 

“Oh... pass the icing bag here, baby,” you relented, coming to his side.

He picked it up and handed it to you proudly, eyes bright and brimming with a slight tinge of mischievousness. He’d intended to get you to do it all along. Not that you even minded.

But you wouldn’t let him get off completely.

“Right, if I read the instructions correctly, we have to line these edges here with a fair amount of icing and then press them together. That’s not too bad! Here,” you held the bag open at the top, “can you pour the white icing in here please?”

“Of course!” He picked up the bowl and gently began to tip the sweet white paste into the blue plastic. Most of it went into the piping bag, but there was a bit that got onto his hands.

“Careful!” you chuckled.

He snickered too, lips parted wide, before he reached out and knocked the side of his palm into your nose. 

You gasped, the white cold against your skin. “Pillie!”

He laughed out loud. “Oops...!”

You instantly dipped your finger in the pool of icing, adoring his nose with the same treatment.

“Hey!”

“Ah-ah, now we’re even!” you said, stepping back, accidentally squeezing the bag and spilling a streak onto one of the building slates. 

The two of you stared at the mess, lips pursed, and cheeks puffed. “Uh...”

Wonpil scooped up the spill and placed in straight into his mouth, grinning as he savoured the sweetness.

“You little—!” You bumped him with your hip, gently nudging him a step back so you could access the right angle to pipe.

But he didn’t have any intention of leaving you alone so simply.

As you bent down to begin, he took it as the perfect opportunity to wrap his arms around your waist, watching you work with his head resting on your shoulder.

You giggled, knocking your head into his.

“Can’t stay away can you,” you remarked coyly, painting a thick line down one side of the soon-to-be wall.

“Of course not!” he insisted in that smooth, small voice he always reserved for those he cared for. “How could I?”

“Hmmm, I guess so,” you reasoned, finishing up on one piece of gingerbread and moving to the other. Moving fast, you swiftly held the slice up and pressed the other two against it as firmly as you safely could. “Baby, can you hold these still for me?”

He nodded, humming, quickly leaving your side to become a makeshift scaffold for the new house.  You simultaneously went round to the other side of the table and piped another two strips of icing, on on each bare wall, and then slotted the final wall into place, completing the foundations for your gingerbread house at last. 

Checking the spare bowl was inside, you put the icing bag on the table and cheered.

“You did it? We did it!” your boyfriend cried. “C-can I let these go now?”

After double-checking the walls were in a secure placement for them to solidify at the correct angles, you gave him a thumbs up. “You may let them go.”

He breathed a sigh of relief, which you didn’t understand as he was much more gentle-handed than you ever would be. Immediately though he was by your side, arm round your hip as the two of you admired your handiwork.

It was plain, but it was a good start.

“So, now what do we do?”

“Well,” you hesitated, eyes sweeping over the instructions, “we wait.”

Surprised, he enquired, “Really? How long?”

“Uh... as long as it takes for the icing to dry.”

“Sooo... cuddles?” he sang, like a child after candy floss. 

You shook your head, wishing you didn’t have to. “I’m sorry baby, but we can’t. We have to ice the decorations for the house now, so the icing in the bag isn’t lost and so our little house can be pretty.”

He pouted, but acknowledged your words with a sad, tiny nod.

He was just too cute.

“But after we can!” you promised, brushing his hair out of his eyes with your clean hand. 

“Yay!” he exclaimed, kissing you and granting you the grace of the sweetness of icing upon your tongue. No sooner had your lips met however, he pulled away, taking some of the icing off your nose and placing his finger between his own once again. “I’ll go get the decorations!” 

And he shuffled away, cheeks blushed like a schoolboy after a first kiss, and beaming that starry smile you felt blessed to see everyday.

You rolled your eyes, following him to fetch another few piping bags. For someone as sweet and innocent as he was, he could really be such a tease.

~~~

AN: I’m not as proud of this one :(( it feels a bit plain but, yeah, idk. It’s shorter! Not by much oof... but more than usual, so there’s that...! 

:(

Normally the two of you would only ever have to deal with him being gone for a few weeks at a time, if any. But this time the band was on the European leg of their world tour. 

To his credit, he had asked if it was okay for them to pack so many tour dates into the schedule. When it came down to it, you knew how much the fans wanted to see them perform AND you knew you’d rather they packed the dates together than for him to keep flying back and forth. So you’d said it was okay.

And that had been a month and half ago.

You hadn’t realized how much of a toll it would take on you. I mean you’d handled time apart before. You had started with a long distance relationship for crying out loud! But since your daughter had been born, he was never gone for more than two weeks max.

So it fell to you to take care of her little tantrums when you couldn’t get her Daddy on the phone - because she didn’t understand that the timezones really messed with calls. And it meant having basically a photoshoot when she started school so that you could send all of the pictures to her Dad, and Uncles because they were just as involved in her life.

But as you sat there, singing softly and wiping a few dry tears from your daughter’s cheeks, you knew you couldn’t keep this up much longer. Noticing she was sound asleep again, you carefully got up and went to the computer. 

It was time to book a flight.

//

You had told the school So Young would be absent for a few days and had called Day6′s manager so he could help you surprise your husband. You packed one suitcase for the two of you, since you were only able to get a few days off for the trip and, before you knew it, you and So Young were buckled in a plane ready to go.

You stroked her hair to help her relax as she clutched her Day6 merch - a bunny actually. All the members found it hilarious, or they were just jealous, that she liked Wonpil’s toy the best. You just told the other Uncles to step up their game whenever they argued you should change out her toy.

Their manager had arranged for a ride to pick you up at the airport. You had a hat and glasses on both you and So Young. Fans were fine with your marriage, but that also meant they kept an eye out for you. And since the group was already in the city, you didn’t want to chance the surprise getting out.

You had texted your husband that you were taking So Young to visit his parents for a few days since she’d been a bit down. Considering how often she cried for his hugs, it was no secret to your husband she was having a hard time being apart from him, so it was an easy white lie to excuse you being off the grid for a bit.

When you were in a taxi with your bags, you noticed So Young starting to bounce around, asking when she could see Daddy.

“So Young-ah, do you want to surprise Daddy?”

“Yes!” she screamed, making the driver laugh.

“Well then you’ll have to wait a little bit longer and listen to Mommy, okay?”

She started bobbing her head, only to freeze and throw herself against the window as the cab passed a Day6 poster.

“Look! It’s Daddy!”

Pulling her back into the right sitting position, you just laughed at her, knowing she was going to be a handful to contain, just like her dad sometimes.

You dropped your luggage off in a room by your husbands that the manager had got for you and then went over to the venue, arriving just after the show had started. You had dressed So Young and yourself in the black hoodies, wanting to represent for your husband.

While waiting backstage, you could hear your husband’s voice clear as day. And so could So Young. She was actually crying a little, so you took her over to a monitor so she could watch.

“Look Daddy’s playing the guitar!” she said. 

He’d been trying to teach her since he had found her toddling in his music room one day a year ago. She clearly saw a guitar and instantly thought of her father.

You were a bit mesmerized yourself, but not at the guitar. You never could get over the image of your husband on stage doing what he loved to do - playing for crowds with some of his best friends. You could see him laughing with Young K and backing up to play alongside Dowoon.

“Y/N,” the manager called to you, “they’re getting ready to do their comments.”

You nodded, knowing he wanted you to get So Young ready, so you took one last look at your husband before going to stand behind a stage curtain.

They each took turns talking. First Wonpil, then Young K, then Dowoon. You could feel your hands getting sweaty as the surprise got closer and closer. You knew from previous concerts that Sungjin, as the leader, always talked last. So you steeled yourself, and So Young, ready to release her on her unsuspecting father.

Right as he picked up the mic, the curtain covering you pulled back and the crowd went wild. I mean WILD. He was stunned, not sure why everyone was getting so excited when he hadn’t even said anything yet.

So Young was like a ball of energy waiting to be released, so you leaned down to whisper to her.

“Park So Young-ah, go get Daddy!”

As if she needed any encouragement, your daughter shot off like a rocket straight for her dad’s legs.

“DADDY!!!!!”

Her voice peeled over the crowd and you saw your husband’s head whip around as she crashed into him. Stunned, he looked up and saw you also walking towards him.

*my gif*

Jae bent down instantly to grab his daughter, then ran the rest of the way to you. You barely had time to see the tears on his face before you were in his arms, him burying his head in your neck as he started crying. 

“Wha- what? How are you both here? I thought you were going to California?”

You pressed a soft kiss to his cheek before pulling back just enough to look him in the eyes.

“We missed you. And I know you missed us.”

Jae pressed his forehead to yours as he hiccuped through his cries, so surprised and overwhelmed that he didnt even know how to process anything. So Young was latching onto his neck so hard that when her Uncles came over to give out hugs, it was hard for them to pull her away.

Once Sungjin had her, he tossed her up in the air to distract her and make her laugh, then carrying her over to the mic. 

“So Young-ah? Want to say hi to the rest of your family?”

If you weren’t already in tears holding onto your husband after a long time apart, watching your daughter politely say “Hi” to an entire concert hall while bowing would have sent you overboard.

Jae just said “Oh god” as he threw his head back into the crook of your neck, leaving you to pat his head to soothe him as you held back tears, watching So-Young play with her Uncles and MyDays.

The family finally back together again.

//

Living was pitch-black for me.

Every day was the same; every day was like a repetition, a never-ending cycle. Every day was of that unfathomable and hollow darkness. It wrapped its blanket around me yet I couldn’t see it, nor could I touch it. Nonetheless, it was all I could feel and that feeling was anything but comfortable. Instead of starry nights, I only looked at starless skies. Instead of giggling kids, I only heard cries of babies. Instead of the beautiful pureness of the freshly fallen snow, I only saw the bare trees without all their colourful leaves. Instead of the winter tranquillity, I could only feel its loneliness.

My paintings were all the same. They portrayed different symbols, different seasons and different scenarios yet all of them represented that tremendous darkness that I knew of. I couldn’t bring myself to use any other colour, except pitch-black. The colour of my heart.

 Seeing you for the first time was mahogany-red.

It was still close to black but it was more of that colour that you could see at the break of dawn when it wasn’t night but it wasn’t even day yet. You sat down at that old bench in front of my house, the one that I stared at when I looked for inspiration. Considering that it was always abandoned and I haven’t seen anyone using it since I had been living there, I was quite taken aback when you appeared. You wore an elegant buttermilk-like coat with Persian-blue jeans and pecan-brown boots. You were a striking painting amidst the dull city centre, stealing everyone’s attention who passed by, including mine.

The painting that I had been working on for hours suddenly seemed so neutral compared to your colourful appearance. The sudden idea of adding more shades crossed my mind but I shrugged it off. I liked the dark misery on the canvas, it was my life after all. It showed the deepest parts of my soul, the one that I wanted to hide yet it wanted so hard to be seen.

 Meeting you for the first time was raisin-like.

I didn’t even know when was the last time that I stepped out of my house before I stormed out of my room to help you get up from the ground. While I was working on a new painting, I saw from the corner of my eyes that someone tried to approach the bench in front of my house. No one wanted to sit down there, except you. Yet, I also noticed that you were reluctant to sit down and it finally dawned on me that you were afraid because the road was slippery and as you were reaching the end of the bench, you suddenly slipped and fell down.

No one was there to help you, everyone was busy in their own greyish worlds, living their own black and white lives, minding their own business. Something in my guts motioned me to assist you because who would if I didn’t? I couldn’t even be bothered to put on a jacket when I went outside – for the first time since God knows how long. It felt like forever.

It must have been one of the most peculiar sights; a man coming out of the house in black sweatpants, black house shoes and a black knitted jumper to help a young lady to get up from the ground. There was a time when I cared about things like reputation but that time was long forgotten, so I couldn’t care less, neither could you.

 Holding your hand was crimson-red.

It was alarming yet reassuring at the same time. It was only an innocent brush, you holding onto my hand while I helped you to regain your composure but it lit up a fire inside of me. It wasn’t a life-threating flame, it was more like one that was about to grow stronger and stronger.

You looked at me with your carob eyes, a colour that I had long forgotten existed. I’ve never seen such eyes or I was merely too blind to notice that particular shade before. I wasn’t always this insensitive to the colours of the world but the loss of my brother painted my skies all black and you were the first who seemed to change the scenery.

“Thank you so much,” you directed a genuine smile at me, one that was like watching the sunrise above the rooftops. “I’m so clumsy these days, so thank you for being there for me!” you chatted beamingly, the radiant smile never leaving your face.

I wondered how strangers looked at our scene, how could they see us – the definition of darkness and  the epitome of all the colours in the world. Because that’s what we were; two sides of the same coin, the opposites of a magnet and the two poles.

I couldn’t muster a single word, my mouth was dry and it had been so long since I talked to someone, it was a challenge – similar to riding a bike after years of not sitting on it.

“Oh my gosh, you must be freezing!” your eyes widened in fear as you caught sight of my light clothing. You didn’t know that the cold could never bother me anymore. I was freezing no matter the temperature, the weather or the season. My heart was kept in ice and you were the first who started melting it, even without making an attempt to do so. “Please, hurry back into your house before you catch a cold! I’m so sorry, you shouldn’t have come out in such clothes,” you pointed at my knitted jumper which must have been convenient during autumn but not during winter.

“You shouldn’t be sorry. It was my choice,” I heard the words coming from my mouth, sounding raspy and brittle.

Unbeknownst to you, my words hid the most dreadful parts of my life. I had been living like I wasn’t the one in control and I wasn’t the one who made choices because life chose instead of me. I merely got my cards but after that, I had no choice but to play with them. I didn’t deserve a say in the rules. I was standing in the desert, waiting for the hurricane to come and spin me around until there was nothing left of me. Yet, you came and the hurricane suddenly stopped coming closer. The disaster was still far away.

The painting that I started that day was a mess. I wanted to experiment with crimson but the outcome turned out to be pretty disturbing. I couldn’t bear the sight, the sudden change was odd, even for me. I tore the painting apart as soon as I saw the result.

 Talking with you was navy-blue.

You showed up at my door the day after and brought a cup of latte macchiato as a thank you gift. I was never more dumbfounded my whole life. I assumed that my mother would be the one who shows up because she wants to barge in and reprimand me for not moving out for months, filling my empty fridge with food, so I was more than surprised to see you there.

“Hey!” your face lit up like a candle on the Christmas tree as soon as I opened the door, still in the same clothes that I wore the day before. “Sorry for disturbing you but I saw yesterday that you came back here and I wanted to thank you for helping me, so I brought you something!” you handed me the cup which was as hot as the fire that you lit up in my heart.

“Ah, you shouldn’t have,” I let out a weary sigh, staring at the cup in my hands. I couldn’t care about the hot content since I was still as cold as ice. Yet, deep inside the ice slowly started melting away and I couldn’t help but let it melt away. After all, no one can control their hearts, can they?

“You deserve it,” you shrugged as a loving smile was forming on your lips. “I know it sounds crazy but would you like to drink something together? I know it’s totally out of the blue but you seem like you would need some company,” you admitted a bit coyly, looking down at your intertwined fingers. If anyone else had told me the same, I would have left on the spot after snorting at them because they exactly knew what I had been through.

However, it was different with you. It was always different with you.

So I stayed silent and stood still like a stone. Not until you started babbling about nonsense again, did I actually give in. I had no idea what I was doing but the words had already left my mouth when I realised what was ahead of me.

As soon as you left and I went back to my paintings, my current canvas seemed so dull and boring. I gave some colour to it and my heart suddenly skipped a beat.

It was beautiful; that kind of new sensation that you get when you experience something for the first time. Seeing blue on my canvas after a long time was just like that. And maybe I was actually experiencing something else for the first time.

 Getting to know you was sandstone-orange.

The thought that I was meeting you somehow forced me to get back on track. Even though I couldn’t bring myself to have a haircut, I still shaved, washed my hair and even wore decent clothes to our first café rendezvous. I opted for a sky blue shirt with an obsidian-black coat, coal-black jeans and midnight-blue boots, not caring much about fashion but you still complimented me. You stated that you liked my baby blue shirt and that’s how we started arguing about colours and that’s how you got to know that I was a painter. At least, I used to be. After my brother’s death, I wasn’t able to finish any of my paintings. I lacked inspiration as much as I lacked life.

We started getting to know each other and the more we met, the less nervous I felt. I had to admit that I was very reluctant at first but the angelic smile on your face always set me at ease. You didn’t force me to do anything, you didn’t broach up sensitive topics, you were as patient as ever. You let me open up like a blossoming flower and eventually I started trusting you. And with trust comes care and with care comes love and with love comes pain.

You showed me all the colours of the world. You made me realise how blind I was and how many times I passed by state-of-the-art places, missed vulnerable moments and forgot to see the beauty in everything. You were an art enthusiast, so you dragged me from one exhibition to another, one park to another and one bench to another.

I started to see the real colours of the morning sunrise, hear the cheerful screaming at the playgrounds and feel the warmth of spring. You didn’t do anything extraordinary, except staying beside me and showing me the world. You didn’t blame me for my brother’s death – unlike all my relatives and friends −, therefore you didn’t abandon me.

My house was cleaned weekly, my fridge was always full and my paintings were livelier than ever. I used all the colours you showed me and the inspiration hit me so many times that I began to wake up in the middle of the night, feeling completely restless and finished a painting within mere hours.

I felt like I found myself again and I set myself free from all that self-hatred and guilt that accompanied since that accident with my brother – when I was driving my brother home from work and a drunk driver crashed into our car. My brother and the driver died and I was the only one who survived.

Thanks to you, I was finally living again, living with all the colours.

 Losing you was grey like ash.

As I’ve said, we were two sides of the same coin. However, the distance between us was growing too wide. You didn’t understand why I wouldn’t like to get myself a decent job or at least sell my paintings and I didn’t understand why you were still beside me when you were promoted and you had an opportunity to move to Incheon. The arguments were more and more intense and we just didn’t seem to come to a halt. We always found another reason to fight, even though we hadn’t even confessed anything. I started to get depressed again and you didn’t notice the symptoms – because I never told you −, so you assumed that I pushed you away on purpose.

I had no choice. You were too special to this world and I was lucky to see all the colours once again but you didn’t deserve to be chained to me all your life. You said that you wouldn’t like me to become that wreck that I used to be but that’s exactly where we were heading to. I had to push you away and ask you to go and move to Incheon because you deserved it.

I wasn’t honest at all, I told you silly fibs and I knew that you knew that I was making them up but I couldn’t help. I wanted you to be happy and if that meant that you weren’t beside me, I had to let you go.

So I did and with you, all my colourful paintings vanished again.

Your professor loved all that nonsense and tried to convince everyone to have their study topic as Quantum for next year. Third year was when you decided your focus topic and you made it very clear that you wanted to study Mechanics and Dynamics on your first day of second year. He was taken aback, sure, but told you that you had the full year to finally decide. Many people didn’t like Quantum and stood behind you in the argument, if you could call it that. For the rest of the day, the class was thick with tension between the lecturer and the students.

The library was eerily silent as you studied your current project. You were nearly tearing your hair out cursing electrons for being such difficult creatures. The day you never have to look at quantum again will be the day you can finally relax.

The scribbles in your notebook were barely legible as you tried to understand the utter nonsense that was printed in your textbook. The area you were in was empty, the only light to be seen was from the lamp to your right highlighting your work. You were just about the only person in the part of the library where you studied. It was late, everyone was going to sleep around this time. Almost everyone.

The light next to you began to flicker, the battery probably on its last legs from its overuse by you. Why was quantum even a thing? What relevance did it have on your everyday life? These questions flowed through your mind every time you opened the text book. It wasn’t long before your head hit the desk with a long, drawled out groan.

“Do you need any help?” You never saw or even heard the other student come and sit across from you. You never mentioned it but you did notice the lamp had stopped flickering.

“Only if you know about subatomic particles and their strange behaviour then sure go ahead,” you waved your hand at him and sat back, giving up on all attempts of continuing studying tonight. “Things that shouldn’t happen but do, how do you even explain that? Its supernatural and I hate it. You don’t even major in physics, do you? I’ve never seen you in any of the lecturers.”

“No, I’ve never taken a physics class in my life,” he laughed. “God, I’d have to be crazy to take physics. But I sure do know quite a bit about things that shouldn’t happen… but yet, they do.” His voice trailed off in a dramatic manner as if to create a spooky atmosphere.

“What do you know then?” You challenged. What was he on about? Was this really how he spoke to someone he had just met? “How can you know about physics if you haven’t even taken one damn lesson?”

His eyes glanced over to the lamp then back at you. “Remember when it was flickering?” He asked, both hands on the table in front of him. “I was the one who fixed that. I can also turn it off and on without touching it.” As though on cue, the lamp went off and back on again.

“You must have had the switch at your feet or something,” you rolled your eyes at him but the look on his face seemed... hurt. “That’s the only way to explain it.”

“Really? What about that lamp behind me?” He pointed over his shoulder. You saw it flickering then turn on completely, brighter than any other lamps in the room.

“That was all just a coincidence,” but you knew it wasn’t. It was all too perfect for it to be a coincidence. No coincidence could have been that perfect, not even if it was a planned one.

“What do you not believe,” he accused. Your face scrunched at his words. Believe. You avoided belief. What is anything without an explanation? A real explanation. Suddenly, you packed your book into your bag which was slung over your shoulder as you rushed to get out. Unfortunately, he was quick on his feet and stood in front of you. He still held that hurt look in his eye.

“Look, I’m sorry for wasting your time, I should really get going,” you said as you rushed past the strange man.

“Why don’t you believe me?” He pouted and turned to face your direction. You should have kept going. You should have ignored him in the first place. But instead you turned to face him. He had a knife out, ready to slice his hand open. “I guess I’ll have to show you.”

You yelled at him to stop when knife pierced his skin and dragged it down. He only winced slightly but overall he didn’t seem too phased as though he had done it before. Your yelling silenced and you stepped closer inspecting his wound. The man placed the handle between his teeth and waved his hand over the injury. Drop by drop, everything began to disappear. First the blood (which left the raw wound openly visible, clearing all thoughts that this might have been a staged prank) then the wound began to close in on itself, healing all the way until it was back to normal.

You looked at him in awe, something that you had never done before.

“But that doesn’t make any sense,” you sputter out an excuse. Any excuse. “It doesn’t obey the laws of physics.”

He only grinned knowingly as he looked at you. “Laws were made to be broken.” He whispered, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Wh-what are you?”

There was a brief pause where he took a moment to stare at you. A smile easily found a way onto his lips as he started to burst into fits of laughter. His smile would have been contagious if you weren’t so speechless.

“Can you say that again?” His voice was giddy as he jumped from one foot to the other. “Please? I’ve never heard it before.” You were reluctant but the look in his eyes was almost convincing blended with the desperation in his voice and finally the fact that he might never leave you alone until you do what he wants.

“What are you?” Your question lacked the shock it had before but the smile on the boy’s face kept up, it had probably gotten wider.

“I’m human,” He stated simply. “As much a human as you are.”

“If you say you’re human, aren’t you inferring that there are other…” You trailed off unable to continue. “As much a human as I am? What are you trying to say? I don’t have these weird tricks, do I?”

“Other types of species with what I have?” He managed to finish for you. “I don’t know the answer to that one, but you having powers? That’s ridiculous, if you had powers then you wouldn’t be in the situation where you questioned things like this.”

His words were true. His belief in what you thought was all a joke was stronger than any belief. You could see that in his eyes, hear the passion in his voice.

“Then what are you doing, showing me all of this?” You asked him. “I’m not important or special. I’m a nobody that studies physics and goes against everything that you’re telling me. Surely I’d be the last person you’d tell.”

“From what I heard, you’re the smartest in the class,” he stepped closer to you. “Your brain thinks of almost every possibility when you let yourself. I need to get back home. Back to my world.”

You blinked a couple of times, not understanding how to respond. His world?

“So, you’re an alien?”

“No, I told you I’m human.”

“But you said back to your world.”

Kim Wonpil didn’t sign up for such a role when little Park Jaehyung decided to hit him with a plastic hammer when they were only 5 years old. Their friendship started at a playground in Busan and since then, they still stuck to each other like glue.

Nevertheless, Wonpil hated parties, crowds, drinking and smoking teens, and most importantly, he absolutely hated assisting a drunk friend. However, he never refused to help Jae whenever he got drunk because he was his best friend after all. They always had each other’s back no matter what. Plus, poor guy didn’t have any luck in love, that’s why he turned to alcohol and the sensational feeling that its after-effect gave him; he merely wanted to drink away his sadness when his possible love interests turned him down.

Truth to be told, Jae was known to be an eccentric figure. He sure had a weird kind of humour but Wonpil never really minded his silly jokes and those weird sounds he made. Maybe it was because they had been best friends for more than 16 years or because he was a particularly patient person. He couldn’t tell.

However, he definitely didn’t sign up for assisting Jae’s little sister who wanted to attend a party for the first time in her life. She was only 15 years old and at her age, Wonpil didn’t even know the definition of parties, his life consisted of studying and playing video games with Jae.

On the other hand, his friend was a pretty chilled guy, so he persuaded his parents to let his sister go to a party. They only let her go under one condition; their parents insisted that she went with his brother, so that he would keep an eye on her. Unfortunately, Jae always found another pretty female for himself – just to get dumped half an hour later −, so Wonpil had to be there for Jimin, Jae’s little sister.

To be honest, Wonpil was an awkward guy in general but when he had to deal with girls, he was even more awkward. Not to mention the times when he had to hold back Jimin’s hair while she was throwing up in the bathroom because she got too drunk. He couldn’t stop her, she always found a way to get away with drinking, so they always ended up in the same place.

Wonpil was already regretting his life decisions and considering consulting a doctor because the state of his heart was criminal lately. Whenever a party rolled by, he was diligently preparing himself for a possible heart attack. He was terrible with assisting drunk people and if that wasn’t enough, he was terrible with assisting drunk people who happened to be females. On top of everything, a particular female who was his best friend’s little sister. Not like Jae minded that he watched over her though. It was only embarrassing because Wonpil himself felt awkward playing the big brother instead of his mate.

As the saying goes, everything happens for a reason, and that’s how it was for Wonpil, too. If it hadn’t been for the circumstances, he would have never met Lee Hyunji who was doing the same but she was actually helping out her best friend who couldn’t handle drinking alcohol but had a shot or two whenever she failed her exams. Which happened a lot by the way.

One day, they happened to bump into each other as Wonpil pushed his friend – it was only Jae this time, not Jimin − into the bathroom while Hyunji was trying to get out of there. The boy’s shoulders brushed hers as she was making her way out of the smelly bathroom, probably after her drunk friend.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled nervously and left right away. She didn’t even leave time for him to say anything. She was already gone and Jae was already emptying his stomach.

It was the first time they met but not the last. The more parties he attended, the more he could see her. She was always with her friend while he was usually with Jimin or maybe even Jae, if he didn’t stay sober for the rest of the night.

There was even one time when the party was held in one of the girls’ houses from uni whose parents were so rich that they had separate bathrooms for girls and boys. Wonpil usually didn’t freak out when he had to accompany Jimin to the bathroom because bathrooms weren’t only for females at other houses but now… he was questioning himself why he ever needed to make friends with Jae.

“Hey! It’s the ladies room!” a chic-looking girl exclaimed as he sneaked into the restroom with Jimin, staying close to her, so that she wouldn’t hurt herself on the way to the toilets.

“I know,” he shouted back as he was picking up his pace because Jimin suddenly started running towards a lavatory. When she arrived at one, she immediately started to throw up, earning disgusted glances from other females.

Wonpil didn’t even have a second to spare, he rushed to her side to hold her hair back. The following moments were always the most embarrassing ones but he had to endure it. Even though he didn’t know why Jimin felt better by drinking so much and then getting rid of all of it some hours later, he couldn’t leave her alone.

Not until she said so herself and he could finally relax, his back pressed against the wall in the corridor, his thoughts running wildly in his head.

“Tough day?” a familiar voice called and Wonpil turned his head towards the owner of the voice. He saw a girl as pretty as flowers and as sparkling as a ray of sunshine on the surface of the water, her chocolate-brown eyes filled with curiosity and her smile filled with joy.

“Yeah. A pretty tough one,” he let out a weary sigh as he thought back of all the things that had happened that day. Jimin wasn’t an easy case to say the least. Not even when she was sober but when she happened to be drunk… Oh gosh, that was really difficult for poor Wonpil.

“We always have a tough day by our friends, right?” she giggled as she pointed to the door of the ladies’ room.

For the first time that day, Wonpil couldn’t help but laugh with her. It felt so odd because it felt totally new for him. He wasn’t used to being comfortable in such an atmosphere but then came this girl with a voice of angel, a smile like the sunrise and eyes like the universe.

“I’m Hyunji,” she reached out her hand for a handshake and even though he hesitated at first, her smile could easily convince him that nothing bad would happen if he introduced himself to a girl.

“I’m Wonpil.”

“Look, I’m sorry for wasting your time, I should really get going,” you said as you rushed past the strange man.

“Why don't you believe me?” He pouted and turned to face your direction. You should have kept going. You should have ignored him in the first place. But instead you turned to face him. He had a knife out, ready to slice his hand open. “I guess I’ll have to show you.”

You yelled at him to stop when knife pierced his skin and dragged it down. He only winced slightly but overall he didn't seem too phased as though he had done it before. Your yelling silenced and you stepped closer inspecting his wound. The man placed the handle between his teeth and waved his hand over the injury. Drop by drop, everything began to disappear. First the blood (which left the raw wound openly visible, clearing all thoughts that this might have been a staged prank) then the wound began to close in on itself, healing all the way until it was back to normal.

You looked at him in awe, something that you had never done before.

“But that doesn't make any sense,” you sputter out an excuse. Any excuse. “It doesn’t obey the laws of physics.”

He only grinned knowingly as he looked at you. “Laws were made to be broken.” He whispered, sending a shiver down your spine.