WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU LOOKING AT?

however, he stops his cheeky attitude as soon as she mentions the scissors. so much for hoping things would go peaceful between the both of them. perhaps hoping for things not to go absolutely feral if it involved him and dabin was too far-fetched. “you are not getting that oily thing near my HAIR!” he shouts. “for your information, i WILL use the hair tie to tie my hair so if i see you with those pair of scissors that you probably stole from mrs. kim, you WILL be hearing from my lawyer.” 

AND here’s the thingㅡdabin’s always found it difficult to make friends. ( maybe it’s the way she turns her nose up at the mere THOUGHT of spending time with somebody her age for longer than five minutes, maybe it’s her volatile temper and the way she’s quick to snap. either way, it’s a hard knock life for her. ) but there’s something about woo sungjae, the baffling, irritating way he grins at her like he’s been waiting for her the whole night, the way he responds to her tact with even more tact instead of getting offended like everybody usually does: she doesn’t pinpoint the exact moment she had thought ‘i’m keeping him’, but she decides to anyways.

suddenly, she wishes the apple she had shoved in her jacket pocket was back in her hand and aimed at the other’s forehead. she scowls, a crease forming between her eyebrows as she pulls an expression of pure, unadulterated disgust. “i can’t stand you,” she says, though the inevitable softness in her tone betrays her words. dabin sets him with a deadpanned look, mouth pursed when she reaches up and tugs on the ends of his hair. ( she likes it, really, and finds herself with an emotion strangely similar to fondness whenever she catches sight of it tied up when they get dinner together. )

“i know i look ridiculous. you don’t have to lie.” he pulls up the pancho to reveal the ripe grape juice stain that was still glistening with liquid in the fabric underneath. “youngae spilt her juice on me. i can’t walk around like this. i look stupid.” (as if to say he didn’t look stupid in that moment.)

IT’S terrible, really, the way dabin. kwon fucking dabin, appears to be finely attuned to everything son daehyun despite choosing to believe that SHE’S the one that has him wrapped around her finger. ( does she really, though? or could it be the other way round? ) perhaps that’s why it’s so easy to spot him in the crowds full of people and she has trouble acting like there was any difficulty in finding him at all when she knows that she could easily spot him in an area more densely populated than this.

what’s even worse is the way he smiles at her, the dimples that sit deep in his cheek ㅡ dabin had rolled her eyes once, pressing her thumb into one of the dimples that had appeared and calling them cute only to watch him splutter on his tea like a moron ㅡ and the pretty expression that his face morphs into. it’s that same unreadable expression, something filled with too much adoration and gentle behaviour to the point where it forces her to swallow the lump in her throat and act like she hasn’t seen it whenever he sees her.

the coat isn’t too bad if she’s being honest ㅡ a bright contrast against the black and white of the rest of his outfit but she supposes that there was never anything wrong with a splash of colour, despite the way she KNOWS haeil would disagree at the mere sight of daehyun’s outfit. and although she grows realise there could be worse outfits, it’s still enough to elicit a grin in her, though she has to suck her teeth to make sure she doesn’t laugh. dabin isn’t a genius but she’s smart enough to pinpoint that laughing at daehyun would probably make things worse. not by a huge margin, but still worse. it definitely wouldn’t make it better.

“you don’t look ridiculous,” she clicks her tongue, shaking her head and watching him as he tugs the aforementioned item of clothing around himself tighter. there’s a part of dabin that’s mildly glad she had gone into acting as a profession ㅡ lying had suddenly become too easy for her, like a habit she couldn’t shake . “it’s just different, y’know. photographers and artists always wear unique clothes.” dabin blinks. “uh ㅡ haven’t you seen g-dragon?”

her eyes are drawn to the shining juice stain on his white shirt, ( she doesn’t want to go to hell, she REALLY doesn’t want to go to hell ) and NOW she can’t help the peal of shocked laughter that escapes her. granted, it’s cut short by the way she claps a hand over her mouth but it’s still out somehow and she can’t help but feel a twinge of pity for the man. “shit ㅡ she really spilled a whole fucking cup, huh.” dabin bites her tongue, glancing up to his embarrassed expression. at this she softens, scoffing, leaning forwards to smooth out daehyun’s fringe ㅡ only to ruffle his hair. “stop sulking, you don’t look stupid and it doesn’t look as bad as you think.”

[ ... ] 

his certainly wasn’t the best first actual interaction outside the bar. she lets out a long sigh, trying to avoid looking at the woman’s face – she didn’t want to know how angry dabin was. “ i have the perfect way to get red wine out of clothes, if it’s any consolation. ” she says, finally sparing a glance at the woman’s face. “ had too many nights i’d done the same to myself … not that it’s helpful right this moment … ” she says, frowning. “ i don’t live far, if you’d like i could get you something to wear instead ? don’t even have to return it – i have too many clothes anyway. ” she offers, at this point just running her mouth. she drew in a breath and glanced up to dabin’s face. “ i’m so sorry … ”

TO be fair, dabin had expected it to happen ㅡ when she had first set eyes on the impressive arrangement of wine bottles nestled into a corner, she had found her mouth pressed into a thin line, taking a sip of her own drink with the SOLE thought of ‘shiiiiiiiiit, someone’s gonna get that.’ it makes sense to have an assortment of alcohol at the feast, to be fair. what she hadn’t been expecting, however, is to meet one of her regulars at the bar holding a glass of red wine. her eyes are focused on the glass, mouth parted in greeting and a smile when the liquid tips over the glass just a little and then ㅡ suddenly dabin’s pretty, white ruffled top has a dash of unplanned red on it. ( givenchy is turning in his grave. )

[ ... ]

“thanks for doing this for me. it’s hard for me to get to the city and do shoots so i have to try to make yangwon look more urban with fancy angles and props.”

HERE are the facts: dabin can’t pinpoint exactly when their arrangement started. it’s somewhere between the late nights ( or early mornings. she’s not sure what 2am counts as. ) of weekdays when daehyun turns up to the bar, face slightly red  from the heat of the place ㅡ at least that’s what he CLAIMS, but dabin chooses to ignore how he always seems to flush a little when she slides his drink over with a grin ㅡ and she fights the urge to pinch his cheek.

there’s something special about him. she’d known ever since he first stumbled into the bar and stuttered ‘do you guys sell drinks?’ it only takes a brief moment but she throws her head back and laughs, the first time that night, and the rest is history.

she’s clad in what she deems as ‘street fashion’, as if she hadn’t been rustling through her wardrobe hurriedly the night before, wanting to impress daehyun. her halter neck crop top and baggy jeans probably AREN’T the best suited for the weather ㅡ despite the puffer coat she’s thrown over herself as an attempt to fight the cold and she ignores the way pink scatters across her face when he compliments her.

“you’re dumb.” is what comes out of her mouth instead, a grin twitching on her lips as she locks her phone, slipping it into the pocket of her jeans. she tilts her head, as though she’s examining him. “actually ㅡ you’re not looking too bad yourself.” ( he never does. )

[ ... ]

“thank god you’re here. i did not want to look like a loner at this party,” he says with a relieved smile. he hands her an apple while keeping the other one to himself. “did you eat yet? i just got here, so this is the first thing i’m having here.” before he continues, he pulls the sleeve of his shirt up to show a black hair-tie on his wrist. “i even brought this so you don’t have to bother me about getting my hair into my food!” he smiles cheekily, hoping she understood him and also that she wasn’t going to surprisingly pull up a pair of scissors at this potluck.

IT still baffles dabin that she’s somehow friends with sungjae after putting up with his nonsense for two years ( TO BE FAIR: he puts up with hers too. it’s kinda like a gambling thing. except dabin thinks she’s losing. ) and yet when she sees the familiar grin on his face as he makes his way towards her, a hand holding out an apple, she unconsciously finds the own corners of her mouth being turned up in an equally relieved smile. shit. maybe she does kinda love him, despite what she always texts him at two in the morning when he asks her if she would take care of keunsae. spoiler alert: she does.

“yeah, i don’t really wanna hang out with you tonight.” it’s with a teasing lilt to a voice that she answers, the apple in her grasp as she wonders whether she should throw it against someone’s head and pin the crime on sungjae. ( she decides against it. ) from the corner of her eye, she can see the neighbourhood aunties whispering and gets a horrific flashback to the time she had tackled him in the streets only to hear someone call out, ‘are you two newlyweds?’ "i’m telling you, the more we talk, the more they think we’re married.”

[ ... ]

“oh, you know it,” somin responds with a peppiness that’s unusual for her, and a smile that’s fake enough to suggest that might really be her plan. but in a heartbeat, the smile’s gone, replaced by something sadder, less forced. she’s quiet for a few seconds, trying to gather her words, and when she speaks again, she seems to be refusing to make eye contact. “i’m here to apologize, actually. i miss you, dabin,” she pauses again, but this time, it’s to reign in her emotions. “i miss you a lot. you were my best friend – no, you are my best friend, even if you don’t want to be. i just love you too much to let this silence swallow us whole, y’know? and… you didn’t seem to be planning to apologize, so i figured i’d be the bigger person. do you a favor.”

THEY could’ve been something special ㅡ and maybe that’s what twists the ugliness inside dabin whenever she sets eyes on her. there hadn’t been many opportunities for friendships upon the first step into yangwon; an outsider to not only the village but even to herself, nights where she’d spend alone wondering whether it would be the right decision or not to go back to seoul. somewhere in between these insecurities, found in the crevices of her doubt, she had ran into somin in all her sharp tongued, no-nonsense glory and THUS: something she desperately wanted had been found.

and yet the remnants of their friendship lie in front of them, tattered and in pieces with faint trails  of dried acrylic paint and cutthroat words smudged over them. there’s something about it that forces dabin to try and swallow the lump in her throat that she hadn’t even realised had been there.  ( it’s your fault, it’s my fault, it’s nobody’s fault: choi somin, shouldn’t we have tried to talk it out at least once before it all came to a head? )

her eyebrows furrow upon hearing the brightness of the other’s words, too contrasted against the dim interior of the bar and even more so against the personality of the somin she knows. half of her wants to roll her eyes at this somewhat futile attempt of rekindling something ㅡ a fire burned out, a finished candle ㅡ and yet the other half, the one that wants what they had BACK, although her pride won’t let her, waits for somin to finish.

that had been her first mistake.

dabin had never really been good with apologies, whether it’s on the giving or receiving end, and she’s certain her expression makes it clear.

with each word her eyes narrow, grip on the glass in her hand tightening to an alarming pressure ( would it shatter, she wonders, if i clutched it so hard? ) before she lets out a laugh. it’s fed up, irritable, DISAGREEABLE ㅡ the kwon dabin she hates. “choi somin, what type of fucking apology was that?” she grits her teeth, mouth stretching out into a false pretence of a smile. “hah, you ㅡ 'i love you, you didn’t seem to be planning to apologise, i’ll be the bigger person, do you a favour’ ㅡ do me a fucking favour? me? you must be out of your fucking mind.” a beat passes. “you stopped being the better person the second it all happened and you pretended like it didn’t.”