carry this boring world on our backs

bitter; hanbin

2014-11-11T22:56:18Z

1.3k, hanbin-centric
pretty angsty, first time writing for ikon so hopefully this isn't too badly characterized

His first taste of bitter defeat comes with battle one. They’re all ecstatic that they beat their hyungs, they finally think ‘maybe we can actually win this’. But then the viewer votes come out.

“I don’t understand,” he hears Junhwe mumble.

Jiwon shakes his head and smiles, because he has to smile for all of them when the others can’t seem to, “Team A is more handsome than us. We know that.” He slaps Donghyuk’s shoulder silently telling him to cheer up.

Hanbin isn’t smiling, he can’t even put on a face for his members who need him to lead them. A bitter taste fills his mouth like he’s bit into a lemon rind and suddenly he wants to vomit.

“We just have to work harder for the next one,” he states sternly before storming off to the composing room where he knows he’ll probably live in the next four days straight.

They lose. Disbelief fills their house for the next few days. They’ve lost. They don’t even give themselves days off and naturally find themselves inside the practice rooms even though they have nothing to prepare for. The members look at Hanbin expectantly, waiting for him to lead them. Hell, they’d wish he’d yell at them or something. Anything was better than this silence. Hanbin knows this, but he can’t get any words out of his throat. So he writes for them instead. Writes until his pencils break and he runs out of pages. He starts writing on napkins and even the back of their favorite take out menus. He’d start writing on the walls if he wouldn’t get yelled at. He makes the others sing for him because he can’t even get a single note out.

He records his lines for “Wait for me” in the middle of the night long after the others have gone to sleep. He pours his heart out into that microphone stand in that soundproof booth. Tears seem to be the only thing that release the hands on his vocal chords. He plays back the recording, satisfied that no one can hear his crying but just his voice. He wonders if he’ll ever be able to perform this live for everyone to see how the bitterness chokes his throat.

The bitterness doesn’t leave even months after the show is over. Some days it’s not as bad as others. He actually finds himself smiling at Yunhyung and Jinhwan attempting to dance battle. In the darkness on a moonless night, the six of them pile onto the couch and their warmth soothes him. He falls asleep without every mistake playing over in his head. He falls asleep remembering why he does this and what he loves. Some days it’s so bad he doesn’t even think he can breathe. It feels as if someone’s made him swallow used coffee grinds. It’s really the worst when people say “no wonder they’re called team b.” The name he was once so proud of he’d wear it on a snapback now epitomizes their loss. Every weakness, shortcoming, and blemish stated in that one letter. He contemplates changing his stage name in the wee hours of the morning. Kim Hanbin is surely less of a burden. He drags “Winnin.mp3” to the recycle bin.

He’s never considered himself liar but he says, “We’re all winners. It’s okay. We have no regrets.” So he must be one. They all laugh together lying on the floor in their living room after a hard day of practice but Hanbin can’t help but think that this shouldn’t be their reality. Uncertain of their future while they watch their friends, no brothers, live out their dream for them. He doesn’t share these thoughts with the others.

Nothing washes away this taste. Not juice, energy drink, milk or water. He even tries some alcohol searching for anything to take this away. It doesn’t work and Jiwon sneaks him back into the dorm. He yells at his members’ every mistake to get rid of this lump in his throat. He spits out lyrics until the sun rises but all he gets is a raw throat and tired eyes. He dances until he can’t breathe hoping to get rid of the acrid air in his lungs. Nothing works.

This bitterness follows him everywhere, even to Show Me the Money and it chokes his throat. He can pretend he’s the best but he, and everyone else, knows he is not. He can barely get any of his lyrics out and he feels like he’s suffocating. Why won’t this ever go away?

Hanbin is so proud of Jiwon. He can’t think of anyone else who deserves it more. In the middle of the crowd, he’s sure he’s screaming louder than all the fangirls. But even that’s not enough to wash this taste out of his mouth.

His red hair is fading, slowly revealing his bleached hair. He buys black dye from some nearby store and forces Jiwon and Jinhwan to dye it for him in their dorm bathroom. Dyed hair is for idols, and he is not an idol. He is reminded of that every day he wakes up-- his flashy hair in the mirror begging for attention he is not worthy of. Hanbin is not satisfied until his hair is returned to average black. His hair must match his skill.

When Mix & Match gets announced he should feel relieved. Finally, they’re getting their chance again and he should have nothing to worry about. How could the group leader not make it into the final lineup? Impossible. Hanbin would’ve told you once upon a time that them losing as Team B was impossible too. He doesn’t trust in YG, he doesn’t trust in the fans, and he certainly doesn’t trust in himself. His teammates blindly follow him, trusting him like an army general but if only they knew he cries sometimes in the shower for failing them.

The original three get announced as confirmed members and he can’t even be happy. The bitterness transforms into a burden on behalf of those left on the other side. He will leave none of them behind. He’ll drag them through the mud, on his back if he has to. Because unless they all make it, he has failed and he’d rather die in the trenches, all of them together.

Together they pile up on Hanbin when the members are let back into the dorm once the official members are announced. “Donghyuk, get your elbow out of my neck!” he hears Jiwon complain and he can hear Junhwe and Yunhyung’s hyena laughing. He’s pretty sure Jinhwan’s foot is in his armpit and Chanwoo is probably sitting calmly on top of them all. Somehow their laughter and hysteria turns into tears. It’s a chain reaction for their team, it only takes one of them to start before the floodgates open. Hanbin will refuse, even years later on tv when interviewers ask him, that he was the first. They’ve all got snot running, red eyes and tear streaked faces. They cry for all the suffering they’ve endured (it’s not over-- there’s a whole new world of suffering out there for them. Fangirls that will lift them up, but reporters that can tear them down with one click. It’s hell, but at least they have each other.), they cry for their new friends that got left behind, and they cry for their dreams that still have hope. Hanbin had tucked away his dreams many months ago, in an old unlabeled box, up on his highest closet shelf. He’s finally ready to take it down, dust it off and bring them out.

They drink apple juice from the convenience store out of little paper cups, toasting for their hopes of success. “Tonight we celebrate, tomorrow we practice.” Their leader is not the best at toasts and Jiwon protests, but they all pretend to clink their floral printed cups anyway. Hanbin swigs down the juice, not even noticing how pure the sweet taste is.

all the times we fell in love; henry/amber

2014-10-16T02:18:35Z

romance, 1.2k
~~taken from my own opening prompt challenge~~
a little different from my normal stuff, so i hope it makes sense
for all the people who fall in love with someone on their train

There is something special about being strangers. You can laugh together for a brief second on the train or talk for hours without ever catching their name. At that moment they are everything you want them to be, they cannot disappoint you. You can guess what they eat for breakfast: do they take their coffee black? Or maybe they’re a tea person. Do they have a dog or a cat? And you can almost picture them on a Saturday morning in your kitchen. Sometimes I think it might be better to stay strangers while the magic and mystery is still there.

That’s why I fall in love with strangers.

“Vanilla double shot latte, right?”
Henry nods towards the blonde barista. It’s just after the morning rush and he’s usually one of two customers in the shop. He’s got his credit card ready along with this ‘buy ten drinks, get one free’ stamp card, but she waves it away and leaves to go make his drink.
He watches her while she meticulously, yet quickly preps her espresso shot. She’d probably be very neat at home, organizing her dvds and food in the fridge. But she's only particular about certain things because she still seems laid back enough to throw her jackets around her room.

Her hair is short, but combed and slightly gelled for neatness’ sake. Henry imagines that she doesn’t particularly enjoy it, but her manager insists. He sees her quickly fixing her hair in the employee break room before starting her shift, but in the morning it’d flop in her eyes and she’d run her hands through it constantly at home.

She’s concentrating on pouring the steamed milk, focused on making an elaborate design in the foam. She must leave doodles everywhere—on restaurant napkins, margins of notebook paper, and his hands when they’re just sitting watching tv together.

“Here you go,” she slips a sleeve on his cup and sets it carefully on the counter.
He snaps a photo of the intricate heart and quickly smiles at her before leaving.

It’s midnight on a Thursday and Henry just wants this stupid project to be done, but he’s got at least two more days of work to get done by tomorrow and this is going to be at least a little painful. He’s armed with a nice quad shot latte because if he’s gonna be pulling (more than) an all-nighter he might as well be bouncing off the walls. Prepared with ample snacks and an awesome productivity playlist, he sits down at one of the library computers to crank this thing out because his roommates probably won’t appreciate him aggressively typing while they’re sleeping. When he gets out his USB to upload his working document he notices that there’s someone else’s there already.

Hoping to get a name of the owner so he can return it, he opens up the drive. He’s looking for some sort of assignment but stumbles upon some photos instead.
“Is this considered snooping?” he mumbles under his breath but clicks them anyway. It’s all with good intention right? As long as it isn't porn, he reasons.
The photos turn out to be some sort of photography assignment, a photoshoot. There are a few models dressed in black and white clothing and extreme eye makeup on only one eye. A girl with blue hair and one with an eye patch, but one girl sticks out in particular.
The other girls are undeniably pretty, but this girl is captivating. She looks like she could kick his butt and Henry’s kind of okay with that. He’d never be able to get away with eating the last of her ice cream, at least without any bruises. The more time he spends with her the more likely he is to have a black eye.

He can see her sitting on the floor of his dorm room, arms crossed and scowling. He’d do something stupid just to try to make her laugh and get her out of this pissed off mood that someone from her class put her in. Usually it takes him losing most of his self-respect, but her façade will crack and he’ll see the girl he loves peek through.

The clock reads 12:55 and he quickly ejects the USB and shoving it in his backpack to return later.

It’s day nine in Henry’s new apartment without internet and he’s starting to go a little stir crazy. By day five he finally gave up on trying to set it up on his own. He accepted the fact that this little box was better than him and he may own a nice smartphone, but he’s actually not that smart. So he calls the cable company and sets up a time for someone to come and just install it for him.

He answers the door quickly, but hopes he doesn’t look that overeager or desperate. He’s just a little surprised to see a girl about his age standing there.
“I’m here to save you,” she announces triumphantly and her blue workers uniform almost looks like a superhero costume and Henry’s okay with being the damsel in distress.

She steps into his apartment and he has to take her into his bedroom to access the modem. Suddenly he’s ashamed of the shirts he threw on the floor in his rush to get ready for work. He kind of wishes his bed was made and when she has to go onto his computer he’s really regretting that lame desktop background of his parents’ dog.

The girl is sitting at his desk, typing and clicking away at his computer and he envisions what they’d be like on the weekends together. Their work schedules would make their free time difficult to overlap, but neither of them is into that whole dating thing so mostly they lie on his bed and watch Netflix from his desktop. She’ll have some super nerdy, funny show she wants to show him and he has to ask her to explain all the jokes but it’s okay because he just wants to listen to her voice.

The late afternoon light hits her nicely and almost casts a halo around her blonde hair. He kind of hates how naturally she fits into his home.

He shuts the door with one final thank you and his wifi password written on his hand.

Henry runs onto the metro just as the doors were starting to close and he quickly scans the subway car for any empty seats. However, it’s the morning commute and that’s probably just some wishful thinking. Just as he’s about to give up he sees on girl in the local university’s sweatshirt with an empty seat next to her.
“Can I sit here?” He asks, slightly pausing in front of the seat.
“Of course,” she smiles and Henry settles in next to her, careful to not bump their thighs or shoulders.
He glances over to her and begins to observe—he’s almost picked out what kind of milk she drinks when she suddenly turns towards him.
Blushing, he averts his gaze.
“I’m Amber, what’s your name?”
He pauses to recover from his embarrassment, “Henry, it’s um... Henry.”
She smiles again and that’s all he can focus on, how much he loves her smile right now (in this moment right here on the subway, not the way he pictures she’d smile walking home together. He’s seen the real thing and he doesn’t even need to imagine it. And he certainly doesn’t want to watch it walk away.)
“So Amber, are you a whole milk or a skim milk kind of girl?”

berkeley bums; sehun/amber

2014-08-24T07:10:14Z

college roommates!au; sehun/henry/kris and amber's just kind of always there.
slice of life-ish?, romance and just general stupidity.
6,869w, pg-13

so there isn't a whole lot of plot-driving forces and this is kind of just a lot of vignettes? i dont really know what this is, but i had a lot of fun writing it.

To say Sehun was nervous would be the understatement of the year. He felt like throwing up. His just-barely-fluent English got him through check-in and his dorm key, but he was self-conscious of his accent the entire time. He spent his last two years of high school in the states, but he still felt like he stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the California natives. Getting into Berkeley was his biggest dream, but his excitement was currently overshadowed by extreme anxiety. Would his roommates hate him? Could he keep up with classes? Is it okay that he’s a complete nerd who eats too much instant ramen?

He finally reached his dorm room and noticed that the door was already open and stuff strewn across the floor. There was music blasting from some impressively large speakers and guy with a Berkeley sweatshirt was dancing around. Sehun walked into the room, moving stuff with his feet to make room for his suitcase and cleared his throat.
“Oh hey!” The dancer looked up and waved. “You must be Sehun.”
“Yeah.” He pushed up his glasses and shrugged his shoulder like he wasn’t exactly sure of that fact.
“I’m Henry, one of your roommates,” he turned down the music and shook Sehun’s hand.
He pointed to the single bunk above the desk, “That one’s mine and Kris, our third roommate, claimed that one.” He was referring to the bottom bunk on the other set.
“I wanted top bunk anyway,” responded Sehun honestly.
“Yeah and Kris said something about being tall and he needed the bottom bunk because of it. The kid’s a giant.”
Sehun walked over to the last wardrobe and began to unpack his belongings while listening to Henry blabber.
“Sehun… What is that Korean?”
“Yeah I’m from Seoul, but I spent my last two years of high school in the US.”
“That’s cool, I’m from Canada but I’m Chinese. Apparently Kris is from Canada too. Guess we’re the international room then.”
“I guess so.” He kind of likes Henry already. He appreciates that Henry does most of the talking and doesn’t seem to get upset at his short answers.

Once Sehun is mostly situated, he asks loudly over Henry’s music that he’s turned up again (“I have to get the best out of them before the RAs start telling me to turn it down all the time.”) “What’s your major?”
“Music, with a focus on instrumental.” That would explain the speakers. “I specialize in violin, but I’d like to do more composing.”
“Oh that’s cool.” Sehun was not musically talented in the slightest.
“What about you?”
“Computer engineering,” he had always liked working with technology and playing video games so it seemed like a natural choice.
“Great! You can help me cause I’m so technologically illiterate. Took me a month to find the copy and paste shortcut.” Sehun sniggers and thinks that he might really like this.

Sehun has his desktop set up by the time the third roommate, Kris, shows up. Henry wasn’t kidding about him being a giant. He’s only in the room for a few minutes and he barely talks after introducing himself. He leaves after changing his outfit and Henry comments from where he’s sitting at his desk, “Apparently he has a lot of high school friends here, too.”
“That must be nice. Do you know anyone here already?”
“Not many, but one old friend of mine from summer camp is here. We kept in touch over the years but I haven’t seen them in person yet.”
“You should have him hang out with us sometime,” he feels close with Henry already and comfortable even though he had a really hard time making friends in school being the foreign student.
“It’s a her, but yeah I’m sure she’d get along with you great.”

It’s only the second day of orientation when Sehun meets Henry’s friend. Her name is Amber and he finds her bickering with Henry really entertaining.
“If you ever need it, I can give you a lot of dirt on Henry. Actually, even if you don’t need it I’ll still give it to you. And if you want to prank him I’ll gladly help out,” she says this when Henry steps out for a little bit to go to the bathroom. Sehun laughs and accepts her offer for the future.
“Are you a CPE?” He’s caught off guard by her question; not many people know about computer engineering let alone its acronym. He nods. “Oh cool, I’m a Mechanical. We can laugh at Henry for being a music major together.”
He doesn’t want to make an enemy of his roommate so early on in the year, but he finds himself agreeing with Amber anyway.

By the second week of school Amber and Henry have become fully reacquainted appearing as if they’ve been best friends they’re entire lives not separated since they were 12 years old.
She spends a lot of time in their room (because her roommates already think she’s weird) and Sehun thinks he should be bothered by it, but he really isn’t.
Sehun grabs dinner and brings it back with him to eat at his desk most of the time, but one night he’s grabbing his jacket to make the walk to the dining hall when Amber gets up from where she was watching some tv show with Henry and announces that they should all eat dinner together. He’s not really sure how, but he ends up walking with them- Amber in between the two of them linking their arms. Sehun supposes this is the moment he’s been included in their weird friendship.

“Is your third roommate, like never here?” Amber asks one day while she’s lying on the floor of their room. Henry’s mindlessly playing something on his guitar and Sehun is trying to get work done but he knows he’s just pretending to be productive.
“Maybe it’s because you’re always here. He’s probably put off by it.” Henry does this a lot, making fun of her. Sehun doesn’t know why she puts up with it.
“No, it’s probably because he has to live with you.” Oh, yeah. That’s why.

Kris actually stays in the room for a whole day one Saturday. Although Sehun is close with Henry, he still feels like he has to walk on eggshells around their other roommate. He does what he can to stay out of his way, which is easy from his single desk in the corner of the room. Amber, however, barges in like she normally does and begins talking about how she told off some guy in one of her classes.
“Oh, hey you must be Kris. I’m Amber- Henry’s friend,” she interrupts herself when she notices the lanky figure sitting on his bed. She then goes through the usual hometown, major, likes, hobbies with him. This is the most Sehun has ever heard Kris talk.
He begins to hang out with them more on the weekends now.

It’s 3 am and way too late but it’s the week of midterms and suddenly they’re regretting playing video games all week and neglecting their studies. Kris is muttering some incoherent sentences to practice the differences in grammar and Sehun is just glad that he is not a linguist major. Amber is about 30 seconds from falling asleep and her head is currently about to fall. Henry is frantically trying to memorize pieces and years, cursing himself for not paying attention in his music history class. Sehun shifts himself slightly when he sees Amber’s head bob and does his best to do calculus problems with the weight of her head on his right shoulder.

They manage to at least pass all of their midterms, but they all vow to never procrastinate again. After one more game of Mario Kart—they promise.

Sehun walks into the common room on their floor to use the microwave for his ramen and he notices the group of girls sitting on the chairs. They’re whispering and giggling and he feels really self-conscious and swears the seconds on this microwave are triple the length of normal seconds. He’s definitely sure they’re laughing at him and he’s this close to abandoning his noodles to run back to the safety of his room, when Amber walks in and waves at him. The giggling stops. He thinks he sees the girls glare as he walks to his room with Amber, but he doesn’t understand why.

“Sehun, I think you’re the most popular guy in the dorm.” They’re all eating cookie dough together because college when Amber suddenly blurts this. Sehun scrunches his nose sending his glasses up on his face and he’s genuinely confused.
“What are you talking about?”
“Dude, all the girls wanna hop on you,” chimes in Kris who’s leaning against his bed with his legs sprawled out. Sehun kicks one of his legs that have encroached into his space.
“I don’t think you know what you’re talking about.”
It’s Henry’s turn to chime in, “I’m pretty sure you’re on the bathroom wall somewhere. Though they’ve nicknamed you the cute Korean ‘cause they don’t know how to pronounce your name.”
He doesn’t know how to respond because he’s convinced they’re all wrong.
“It’s a pretty fitting nickname,” says Amber as she reaches for another piece of cookie dough and then Sehun chokes on his spit.

Kris and Sehun are already lying in bed when Henry walks in from brushing his teeth and climbs up into his own bed.
“Henry… Why didn’t you turn off the light?” Asks Kris and Henry groans loudly.
“It’s too much work to climb back down.” He pauses slightly before, “Sehun….” he drags out the ‘n’ like how he always does when he wants to rope him into doing things for him.
“What?” he responds curtly even though he knows where this is going.
“Pleaseeeee. Do your hyung a favor. I’m too old for this.”
“I wish I never taught you that term.” Sehun grumbles “Kris why don’t you do it? You’re closer to the floor anyway.”
“I’m sleeping.”
Sehun has to resist the urge to go down there and punch his roommate. “I’m sure your freakishly long arms could reach it from there.” He feels Kris kick him from underneath (with his freakishly long legs). He knows his fate—he will never win this argument. He’s about to get up off his bed when he remembers the umbrella on his desk cabinet from the morning rain. He laughs as he grabs it and leans out of the corner of his bed (practically falling off) and reaches out to the light switch with the umbrella.
“That’s not going to work you idiot,” says Henry. But then the room is pitch black.
“SUCK IT.” Shouts Sehun.
“Amber’s corrupted you, maknae.”
“I told you not to call me that, Henry.”

AMBER: Save me Sehun (╥_╥)
SEHUN: What do you mean?
AMBER: I’m dying in the library
AMBER: RIP Amber. I think I’m actually dead
SEHUN: You’re being melodramatic. Leave that for Henry.
AMBER: I’m not exaggerating!!
AMBER: Sehun.
AMBER: Answer me.
AMBER: Helloooo?
AMBER: Are you alive?

Sehun shows up at the library even though it’s nearing 3am. He grabbed his backpack on the way out as an afterthought, but he doesn’t really plan on doing any actual work. He sets down a Starbucks cup in front of the hooded figure with drafting paper sprawled across the table.
She perks up, “Is this for me?”
“No, it’s for someone else. Of course.”
“You’re sassy at 3am.”
“It’s developed from me having to deal with Kris.”
She nods in understanding; “Oh you put peppermint in this! I love peppermint.”
“I know,” almost slips out, but he just shrugs his shoulders instead.
Amber gets back to her work with a sigh and Sehun watches her diligently correct her drawings as he pulls out random textbooks from his bag.
About five minutes pass before she gets frustrated and throws down her pencil, “I’m never going to finish.”
“Hey Amber,” he waits for her to look at him. “To write with a broken pencil is pointless.”
She pauses for a second before beginning to laugh uncontrollably. People around her are beginning to stare, but she doesn’t stop. Soon there are tears running down her face and she’s struggling to breathe. Sehun’s suddenly embarrassed.
“It’s really not that funny, Am.”
“Yes—,” laugh “it is.” He’s laughing at her laughing now. He continues to tell her stupid English puns (because he’s actually beginning to understand them. Sometimes Henry has to explain them to him, but they’re still funny) and he’s letting down his pride for this but it’s making her happy and that’s all that really matters, he supposes.

Their door is open, but the four friends are completely engrossed with whatever video game they’re obsessed with this week. Three girls pop their heads in—they’re sorority girls, they have that distinct look—and interrupt them by going, “Hey!”
Henry’s the first to respond, “Hey?”
“What are you guys doing tonight?” Asks the blonde one in the middle. It’s Friday night and basically that means everyone’s currently getting ready to party off their stressful week.
“Um, probably more of this.” He motions towards the game on their screen and junk food surrounding them.
“Oh, well our sorority,” here it goes “is having a party tonight and we’d love for you to come.” This invitation is extended to their group but it’s clear they’re all looking at Sehun.
“I think you’d have a lot of fun Sehun,” Amber has to stifle a laugh because she can’t even imagine Sehun at a party. He’d probably combust from the sheer embarrassment and social anxiety. Plus, the girl mispronounced his name.
Sehun blinks and then suddenly realizes she’s talking to him, “Oh um. Thanks for the invite, but probably not this time.”
The girls do their best to shrug it off and the blonde walks in through the door, “Let me give you my number so if you change your mind I can give you the address.”
“Sure…” He hands her his cell phone to be nice, but he plans on deleting the contact as soon as she walks away.

After the girls leave, the others immediately begin to tease him.
“Dude, you don’t even have to try and they’re all over you,” says Kris shaking his head, clearly jealous.
“Serious yellow fever,” mutters Amber.
“If only they knew how loudly you type when you get angry and it’s the middle of the night or how you sometimes forget to throw your dirty socks in the laundry basket,” complains Henry.

It’s ten o’clock and they’re already bored with their plans of playing video games for the rest of the night and while they wouldn’t be caught dead at that girl’s sorority party, a party sounds kind of nice. Henry’s all for it and begins changing his outfit immediately. He tries to get Kris to agree to be his wingman and Amber’s trying to convince Sehun from staying behind.
“I’ll need someone to keep me company while those two make fools of themselves,” she’s referring to Henry and Kris who are currently arguing over whether or not Henry looks stupid with a leather jacket.
“And if you absolutely hate it, I promise we’ll leave.” He can’t really say no.

The marching band (Henry knows people from his classes) party is already in full swing by the time they reach. The air is hot and thick with the perfume of liquor. The music is loud and pulsing; there’s a hoard of bodies together in the living room that has been converted into a temporary dance floor. Sehun is completely out of his comfort zone. He’s practically in a different country. Henry and Kris disappear for a few seconds before they reappear each holding two shots each.
“Let’s start this party!” Kris is way too excited in Sehun’s opinion. And somehow he gets a cup shoved in his hand.
“Come one Sehun, at least one.” Henry nudges him. Amber nods as well. He drank in Korea during the summer before he came back to California; he figures it can’t be much different.

They’re only four shots in when Sehun insists on going over to the dance floor because he ‘loves this song’. Amber’s actually surprised by his dancing skills, she would’ve guessed that he’d be awkward and have no control over his limbs. But he moves smoothly and the girls are immediately attracted to him and they begin to swarm like bees after you’ve eaten popsicles on a hot day. She guesses she’s not the only one that finds his glasses and beanie and ironic t-shirt attractive.

Sehun ends up slumped over Amber, which doesn’t really work since she’s inches shorter than him.
“You’rereallycool,” he slurs and while she feels bad for the kid she still wants to use his current state to her advantage.
“How so?”
“Likeyou’renot,” he gets distracted by something else before he refocuses “like other girls yaknow?”
“Is that what you like best about me Sehunnie?” Normally he’d cringe at her nickname for him, but he’s clearly not able to protest right now.
“No,” he laughs almost sarcastically. She’s just about to ask him what his favorite thing about her is then, when he straightens up suddenly, “Let’s get some fresh air.” And she’s being pulled outside.

The crisp air seems to sober him up a bit and his shell is back around him, secure and impenetrable. Kris stumbles out of the house a few moments later, “Am, can you help me with Henry?”
Their musician friend pushes past Kris and has clearly had a little too much. “Amber!” He shouts and she’s about this close to strangling Kris for letting him get like this.
“Sehun,” she calls him curtly to get his attention “Help me get him.”
It takes him a few seconds longer than normal to process what’s happening but then he’s grabbing one of Henry’s arms to pull over his shoulders and walk him back to the dorms.
“Let’s go to the music building!” He sways a little and Sehun pulls him back up. “I have a great idea for an opera right now!”
“Shut up,” the three of them say simultaneously.

They manage to get back to their dorm room without any major issues but Henry’s still convinced now’s the perfect time to go compose an opera and tries to leave the room.
“Can’t you just sit on him or something?” says Amber exasperatedly. “I am not drunk enough for tonight to even be worth it,” she mutters and Sehun is desperately trying to get Henry to just stay on the floor. When he attempts to make a run for it the fifth time, Sehun takes Amber’s advice and sits on him.
Amber looks at him incredulously and he responds, “What? It’s what you told me to do.”
Soon enough Henry is complaining. “Sehun get off of meeee! You’re so heavy. What have you been eating?”
“Henry if you don’t shut up, I’m going to beat your high score in mario kart.”
He shuts up. For a few minutes.

“Maknae!” He’s yelling again, “why don’t you go sit on Amber or something? I’m sure she’d enjoy it a lot more than me.” Sehun is pretty sure he looks like he’s gotten a sunburn right now and he’s doing everything to avoid eye contact with Amber because how embarrassing.
“Or let her sit in your lap; I don’t care as long as it’s not on top of me! This hurts Sehun!” He’s really going to kill Henry tomorrow. Maybe even tonight. Henry is laughing with his cheek squished against the carpet and Sehun is tempted to smash his face further into the gross dorm floor.
Amber’s hand is on his shoulder signaling him to get up when she grabs one of Henry’s arms. Sehun grabs his other and sends her a questioning look. She has an evil smirk on her face and moves towards Kris’ bed where Kris is already passed out.
“They can try to figure out why they’re in the same bed tomorrow morning. It’ll be great.”
“That’s not even going to begin to make up for what they did tonight.”
They’ve finally shoved Henry onto the bed and he’s asleep within seconds.
Sehun and Amber collapse on the floor, leaning against the bed with their two idiotic friends and he sighs, “Can we never go to a party again? Ever.”
“You seemed to have fun,” chuckles Amber.
He groans, “Please don’t remind me. I’m so mortified.”
“Don’t be. You’re a good dancer,” she smirks and he hides his face in his arm. “The girls seemed to like you too. Oh Sehun- lady slayer.”
“I’m really not and I know it okay? Why does everyone keep making a joke out of it? I get it okay?” He’s slightly angry and Amber’s never seen him like this before.
“Sehun,” she touches his arm, “what are you talking about?”
He pulls off his beanie and readjusts it (she tries to resist the urge to fix his messy hair) “I’m the awkward, antisocial nerd and I know no girl would ever really like me or have a crush on me. And I get that it’s easy or funny to make fun of me by saying all the girls like me when it’s obviously not true but it’s getting old.”
Amber is laughing her uncontrollable, sidesplitting, tears-forming laugh. “You really are that blind, Sehunnie?” He gives her a confused look and she clarifies. “We’re not making fun of you because no girls would like you, but because so many of them do but you’re so freaking oblivious that you can’t tell. You’re attractive, tall, and smart and some girls really like nerds. You’re a catch, you just don’t know it.”
He’s silent for at least a minute. “Wait… really?”
“Yeah,” Amber looks down and seems a little quiet, “Like Kris said, you wouldn’t even have to try very hard and you could get a date with any girl in this dorm.”
“Any girl?” He’s staring at her, but she won’t make eye contact with him.
“Yup,” she emphasizes the ‘p’ at the ending.
“Will you help me?”
She wraps her arms around herself and rests on her knees, “Of course.”

The next week Amber insists on giving Sehun a makeover.
“You asked for my help, and this is me giving it to you.” She’s standing in their dorm room holding hair gel, sneakers and a duffle bag. Sehun is scared to say the least.
“I was just joking, Amber come on.” She throws the stuff on the ground and says, “Too late. Henry, Kris—hold him down for me.”
She starts off with his clothes.
“You’ve got a good base for a wardrobe and all the essentials, you just… don’t know how to pair them very well.” Says Kris, possibly the most fashion conscious of them all, looking through his closet. He begins to pick out t-shirts, flannels, jeans and jackets and holds them up in pairs in front of Sehun. Finally deciding on a button up shirt, black jeans, a pair of his favorite sneakers and a snapback (“I get the whole beanie thing, but let’s make you at least look like you’re trying.”). He is immediately shoved into a chair where Amber tackles his hair. She’s running a comb through his hair and working in gel with her fingers. He’s never done anything more to his hair to get ready than maybe running his hands through it and he’s trying to focus on anything else but her hands in his hair. “Okay, perfect” she drops her hands and he’s mildly relieved that it’s over.

But his relief is short lived when she reappears holding his absolute most hated thing.
“No.” He says firmly, “I went along with the clothes, the hair, but not this. This is where I draw the line.”
“I don’t understand why you hate them so much.” Her hands are on her hips in her classic fighting stance and Sehun knows this is not going to be an easy fight.
“You can’t hide behind your glasses forever, you know.”
“There’s nothing wrong with my glasses!”
“They ruin the look!” Chimes in Kris, and he makes a note to smother him in his sleep later tonight.
Henry joins in and says calmly, “Just do it this one time. We went this far already.”
After a few minutes of staring at the three faces before him he finally groans and grabs the contacts case from Amber before storming off into the bathroom.

When he reemerges his face feels empty without his everyday black frames, his nose automatically scrunches to push them up on his face but it meets nothing but air. Nothing had made him feel as vulnerable as this (not losing his beanie, or his comfortable t-shirt or the new gel in his hair) because looking at himself without his glasses he feels like he’s looking at a stranger.

None of them are saying anything and it’s driving him nuts. Finally he breaks the silence with, “I told you glasses were better!”
This breaks their temporary muteness because suddenly their protesting and insisting that he’s wrong and they each have their reason.
“If the girls in our dorm were all over you before, they’re going to be fighting each other over you now.” Says Kris with jealousy heavy in his voice.
“You’re gonna need to be the model in front of the camera instead of behind it, now.” Henry is smiling like a proud mother.
“I was right,” is all Amber offers. Sehun isn’t sure if she’s referring to him hiding behind his glasses or that night when she said he could have any girl he wanted.

Over dinner they decide to spend the evening in the common lounge to start counting the reactions of the girls in their dorm.
A double take – 1 pt.
Pointing him out to a friend – 2 pts.
Giggling – 3 pts.
Outright staring – 5pts.
Approaching him – 10pts.
Shameless flirting – 30pts.
They each cast their bets on how many points he’ll gather in the next few hours and he just wishes he could wash his hair, put back on his glasses and wear his comfortable hoodie. In the end he has a grand total of 75 points (two girls had the guts to actually flirt with him despite his stiff and uncomfortable responses) and Henry wins the bet. Amber and Kris have to buy him ice cream and Sehun argues that he should get some too. “I had more faith in you!” shouts Kris who bet he would hit 150 points. “You should have flirted back more, goodness Sehun I’m not rewarding you with ice cream for your poor effort.” Kris buys him a klondike bar anyway.

The next few days he replicates the hairstyle Amber gave him and decides to give the contacts another chance. Kris enjoys picking out outfits so much for him that he kind of just lets it happen. He gets asked about his plans for meals and the weekend more than normal, but he keeps to his “sorry, I have stuff planned with friends already”.

“Dude! Brooke asked you out and you said no?! Why can’t we switch places? Why can’t that happen to me? Maybe if I can prove how much of a dork you really are to her she’ll turn to me.” Kris is on a slight rampage and Sehun just lets him run its course.
“She didn’t ask me out, exactly.”
“She asked you what you’re doing Friday night, did she not?”
“Well, I mean, yeah. But she could’ve just been making conversation.”
“That’s bullshit Sehun and you know it. You can’t even lie to save my feelings.” He flops down on his bed. “I’m never lending you my leather jacket ever again.”

Valentine’s day comes before anyone of them really noticed it approaching. It’s a holiday that Sehun normally shrugs off, maybe sending a nice note to his female relatives. But this year he wakes up boxes of chocolates and notes left outside of their dorm room (which he almost stepped on when he left for the bathroom). Henry and Kris are immediately jumping out of bed to sort through the gifts hoping to spot some with their names on it from secret admirers. They’re disappointed when Kris gets a cheap drugstore valentine from one of his high school acquaintances (she always politely bought for everyone in the class) and Henry is still trying to convince them that the card addressed to “the cutest one room 203” is for him. The rest is clearly for Sehun. As he collects them in his arms to move to his desk he contemplates the effectiveness of contacts and hair gel.

He collects a few more on the way to and from class; he awkwardly thanks the girls that hand them to him feeling burdened more than anything else. And by the time he’s made it back to his dorm after all his classes he just wants this day to be over more than anything else. He’s not really sure what do to with all of this and quickly, without thinking, he’s scooping them up into a bag and walking across to the girls’ wing and knocking on Amber’s door. One of her roommates answers, he thinks her name is Krystal but he can’t be sure (she might have a Korean name that he was introduced with, Sehun isn’t too good with these things). He asks for her to point out Amber’s desk and he leaves the bag with a short note on a post it.
“You like sweets more than I do, and your makeover should take all the credit anyway. –SEHUN”
Sehun is in a black and white film photography class to fulfill some general education credit and he likes it. He quickly understands the camera mechanisms—his technical background helping substantially—and follows the rule of thirds perfectly. Sehun’s assignments gain almost perfect points each time; his professor always comments, “Beautiful use of technique, but lacks emotion.” Sehun doesn’t understand how to add emotion to photos.

“Do you love someone, Sehun?”
“Um, yeah I guess. What does this have to do with photography?” He answers thinking of his mother and father and his dog back home.
“It has everything to do with photography.” His professor leans back in his chair. “Your subject, if you can find what you love about it, will leak into your photographs. It doesn’t matter if you’re taking a picture of a lamp post, an empty park bench, or a stranger walking down the street—fall in love what you see and it will show.”

Sehun is lying on his top bunk staring at the ceiling and trying to figure out how he’s going to do his final project for photography. Kris is currently talking to some girl from his Japanese class on the phone and he’s trying to make up pick up lines in Japanese and Sehun just wants to barf. Henry is working on a composing assignment with his guitar, he keeps muttering things and scribbling things down. Amber is sitting on the floor of their room in between the two bunk beds and has her textbooks spread around her. Her face is scrunched up and there’s a pencil behind her ear as she tries to understand physics. It’s late in the afternoon and the setting sun is streaming into their room. The blinds create a horizontal pattern on their carpet and across everyone’s bodies. It’s Sehun’s favorite part of the day that creates the nicest light in their room and he flips on his stomach to quickly snap a photo of it from above.

It’s a Saturday morning (okay, it’s closer to afternoon but it technically still counts) and they’ve just gotten up from a late night of movie watching. They decide to put off their homework more-because that’s what Sunday’s for- and go skateboarding instead. Amber’s the only one that actually knows how to skate out of all of them, but she insists she’s a great teacher. Kris is too lanky, Henry is too impatient and Sehun is just too afraid of getting hurt. Amber, fed up with her poor students (“You make me look bad as a teacher!”), skates around them and does tricks to somehow redeem herself. The rest of them lean back on their hands and watch her from the pavement. Playing around with his camera settings, he thinks he’s gotten a couple good ones of her mid-air.

Amber’s roommates somehow convince her to go out to dinner with them as an almost end of year celebration (celebrating not killing each other, probably). She asks to get ready in the guys’ room because Krystal hogs the bathroom and Yejin puts on too much perfume before going out. The bathroom door is slightly open after she changes her clothes and she’s working on putting on some minimal makeup. He thinks the doorway and her reflection frame her nicely; the bathroom lighting highlights her face so he quickly goes to find his camera.

Henry’s class has a recital for their final project and the rest of them go to watch and support their friend (despite being kept up endless nights hearing him practice it over and over). They cheer and clap the loudest, slightly toeing the line of enthusiastic and obnoxious. Kris and Sehun scream like fangirls and pretend to fawn over him. Together the go out to eat late night waffles and he wants to keep this memory forever, taking a photo without even realizing.

By the time his roll his finished he can’t even remember when he took all these photos and he hasn’t thought about his project at all since it was assigned. It’s due this week and as he goes into the lab to develop his photos he just hopes that there’s something he can use for it. Sehun is mindlessly going through his routine for developing and he’s listening to a playlist Henry made (mostly indie that he knows Sehun likes) with some additions from Kris (popular songs because he says Sehun needs to be educated on pop culture). He gets startled when someone enters the darkroom and almost drops his print into the wrong chemical bath.

He takes out an earbud, “Professor, you scared me! What are you doing here?”
His teacher laughs and just responds, “I was just around. Is this for your final?”
Sehun nods, “Well I’m hoping.” He steps up next to the row of prints hanging up on a line and examines them. Sehun suddenly grows self-conscious; he barely looked at them while he developed and simply hung them up to dry. The Professor is silent for a while and Sehun’s music awkwardly fills the air quietly.

“This is exactly what I was talking about,” he turns towards his student and he’s beaming with pride.
“What do you mean?”
“I see you were right about being in love.” He smirks slightly, “You fell in love with what you saw.”
Sehun turns towards his photographs, confused. He’s looking at all of them trying to figure out what he’s talking about when it finally clicks. There’s something in common with all of these photos. It really looks like a proper series: each photo saying something different but all telling the same story.
“Now you just need your write up. I’m really proud of you, Sehun.” He clasps Sehun’s shoulder before leaving quickly.

Finals week finally ends and Sehun can’t believe his freshman year is over just like that. It seems so anticlimactic. Weeks of grueling studying to prove what he’s learned in just 3 hours and it’s all over. Room 203 is packing up all of their belongings together; being international students they’ll all share a storage unit in the neighborhood while they go back to their respective hometowns for summer. They’re all living in an apartment together next year because even though they hate each other, they hate everyone else more.

Sehun’s mostly packed into stacks of clear bins, neatly organized and labeled unlike Kris’ rows of suitcases that are stuffed to the brim (mostly with clothes, Sehun supposes) and Henry’s battered cardboard boxes (that he got for free somewhere) duct taped and simply labeled “H.L.” There are a few small things left scattered about their room, papers and random keepsakes they can’t quite justify packing away but can’t bring themselves to throw out. Henry plays a special mix while they clean up and get their room ready for inspection when Amber knocks on the open door frame. She seems apprehensive and Sehun can’t figure out why, until she asks to talk to him.

He almost drops the vacuum, “Um, yeah sure” and follows her into the hallway. They stand facing each other and people walk past them holding boxes and lugging suitcases. He steps closer to her as a guy carrying his tv makes it through the hallway. Sehun watches as she pulls something out from her back pocket.
“So someone slid this under my door this morning,” she unrolls the object and he almost wants to die when he realizes what it is.
“The girl in my viewfinder by Oh Sehun. Photography 101 Final Project.” The black words stare up back at him and he feels dizzy.
“Who gave you that?” he asks slightly accusingly.
“How am I supposed to know? I was just packing up and then my roommate hands this to me.” She matches his accusing tone, but then pauses and asks softly. “Do you really mean it?”
“Mean what?” he chokes out and he know he can’t get away with this ignorant ploy much longer.
She’s flipping through the pages slightly hesitating on the photo of her in the bathroom (his cheeks burn and he hopes she doesn’t think he’s creepy). Finally she stops on the written reflection.
“‘Amber was one of the first friends I made at Berkeley after my own roommate. She stormed in and never left. I couldn’t get rid of her even if I wanted to, but surprisingly I didn’t. She made me feel comfortable despite being so far from home and far from my culture. She made me fit into this group with my roommates that I might have gone all year not speaking to.

I had no idea what to do for this project, but found myself taking photos without the project even in mind. I just documented the things I wanted to remember for the rest of my life from this first year. Professor Johnson once told me, “Fall in love with what you see, and it will show.” Looking at these photographs from my last roll of film here I realized some common thread among them all.

I fell in love with the girl in my viewfinder.

And that was more impactful on my work than anything else I learned this semester. Not aperture, shutter speed or ISO. While these aspects help convey a message, it’s the message that’s more important for a photograph, and Amber gave me a message.’” She finishes reading his words back to him and looks up at him. He looks away quickly, not able to hold her gaze.
“That,” she says pointedly. “Did you mean that.”
“Yes,” he’s readjusting his beanie (Kris keeps insisting he wear snapbacks but Sehun prefers the comfort, so he wears nicer shirts and contacts to keep him happy instead). “Every word.”
She nods and begins looking at each photo again. He can’t stand the silence between them so he just starts talking.
“I mean you were the first one to really talk to me you know? Like Henry talked to me but I’m his roommate and it’d just be hella awkward if you don’t talk to your roommate. Plus he just kind of talks to anyone who will listen and I’m not gonna ignore him or tell him to shut up. But you’re really cool and not like any other girls here, you actually know how to do calculus unlike Kris with his stupid languages and grammar. You’re into video games and skateboarding and just really chill. How could I not fall in love you with you? It’d be weirder if I didn’t, actually. You’re the only one that actually looked at me—”
He’s interrupted by Amber kissing him quickly. “Oh my god Sehun, shut up.”

Sehun’s cheeks are absolutely scarlet, but he leans down towards her in a weird burst of confidence. His arms wrap around her waist and she reaches up for his hair when they hear laughing and high fives. He quickly pulls away and faces his roommates. Just when he thought he managed to go all year without murdering them.
“Pay up, Henry. You said it’d take being apart from summer but I bet by the end of the year. The year isn’t over yet!!”
“Amber couldn’t you have waited until after summer?? You know Sehun would’ve never made the first move!”
“Hey!” protests the red-faced engineer.
“You know it’s true,” says Amber laughingly.

“You’re still not getting out of paying me 50 bucks, Henry.”

opening line prompt challenge

2014-08-24T04:34:57Z

less of a challenge and more like "I just want you to use these words."

from time to time I find myself writing sentences that could be expanded into a full story, but never actually do. but I'm putting these out there to hopefully inspire some other writers or maybe challenge them to see what they can come up with?

feel free to change the gender pronouns to fit your story or the pov. please link me to your finished drabbles/one shots/etc because obviously i wanna read them! a little tiny credit would be nice, but not necessary~

this may be updated from time to time as well

1. I fall in love with strangers.

2. His veins are a network of rivers that I set sail upon, circumnavigating the world. Storms may come, but I still hold on.

3. Boys either make girls stupid or angry.

4. We walk fearlessly into the fog.

5. I went to lunch and I fell in love.

6. She's a hurricane howling through my window, her winds shake my bones and they rattle against my heart.

through the haze; cl/g-dragon drabble

2014-08-22T07:46:06Z

angst-ish, cl-centric
724 words

Everyone starts smoking for a reason. Some want to look cool, some need to ease their nerves, and some just like pretending to be dragons. Chaerin doesn’t take up the nasty habit for any of these reasons.
She’s sixteen when he offers up her first smoke. Her bangs are growing out and poke her eyes, she swiftly swipes them away and her hand reaches for the cigarette rolling it between her thumb and pointer finger before neatly placing it in her lips. She hopes she looks like a pro even though Jiyong knows she doesn’t smoke. He’s smirking when she leans into his lighter. She doesn’t even cough after her first puff and slowly lets the grey smoke leak out of her mouth.
Chaerin smokes because somehow she thinks that maybe it’ll make him stop looking at her like a little girl.

It becomes their tradition after long nights in the studio to light up together on the top of the building. They overlook the city at 2 am and their cigarettes burn bright almost like urban fireflies.
“You debut soon,” he says despite, or maybe because of, the cigarette dangling between his lips. “You should probably quit. They’ll tear you apart for it you know?”
“But you didn’t,” is all she can answer but she knows it’s not the same at all. Even with their different style there are still things she can’t overcome. On stage she can act bad, but off she must be a shining image of innocence and well-behaved youth. Chaerin doesn’t want to fit into their little box, so she takes a long drag and blows smoke into the dark sky (if she squints it kind of looks like someone flipping the bird).

She’s recording when she gets the news of his scandal. “Idiot…” she mutters under her breath when Teddy shows her the article online. Her hands reach for her box of Marlboros as she scrolls through the hateful comments. She can admit she should’ve listened to his warnings from that night three years ago, but stomping out ashes underneath her sponsored adidas sneakers gives her too much satisfaction. Besides, she’s not going to smoke a joint in a club anytime soon. She almost texts him, “stick to tobacco.” but she’s not that mean.

My room that’s filled with white smoke is cozy like home sweet home.
She tries not to flinch when she first listens to his new song. The girls happen to be practicing for a concert when it gets released. They’re all in the practice room dancing around to his songs during their break even though they’ve spent all day learning routines. Chaerin stands by the window with the screen pushed open (a trick he taught her) and carefully smokes a menthol.

They’re at their concert after party and everyone’s having fun, the fans line the balcony looking down at the artists cutting lose after grueling preparations. She finds her way over to Jiyong as she always inevitably does. “Wanna go outside?” she has to semi-yell to be heard. The question is ambiguous but he knows there can only be one meaning. It’s not like anything has changed over these 8 years. He follows her out the back entrance of the club and she offers up her lighter before she can even light her own and he quickly declines. He’s holding up a tube that she has to squint at in the dull light to make out. She can’t even stop the raspy laugh that escapes her throat. They used to make fun of people who used electronic cigs.
“I’m trying to quit,” he states nonchalantly and Chaerin just shrugs and flicks her lighter under her own.
“Suit yourself.”
He finishes a few puffs of his cotton candy flavored vapor and she tells him to head back to the party. Her (real) cigarette still has a few good drags in it and she refuses to waste any- smoking is an expensive vice. She watches his back retreat through the haze and wants to laugh at herself. When she finally finishes she drops it to the ground and it hisses slightly in the small puddle. Digging her designer heel into the butt, she pops a stick of peppermint gum in her mouth and follows after him.

Chaerin smokes because it’s the only thing she has left.

one for the road; amber/sehun one-shot

2014-01-29T09:25:17Z

slight angst, au
1k
inspired by

She checks the mailbox on her way back from work; it’s usually just bills and other spam, but sometimes there’ll be something just for her. A beautiful photograph will pop out amongst the white envelopes, a small scrap of paper with his scrawled handwriting on it, or just a random object that she supposes made him think of her. There is a growing collection of these little bits and pieces of someone else’s life in the corner of her room. The postcards are taped up to her wall, the little letters are tied together with a ribbon, and the trinkets guard her sleep lined up on her windowsill.

Sulli questions her one day, it was bound to happen eventually, “Who’s the guy that sends you all those random things?”
“An old friend,” Amber replies simply, but she knows she’s lying to Sulli and herself. He was—is—always more than friend.

-

“I’ll only be gone for a little while,” he says as they lay in the grass of her back yard in the setting summer sun.
“You promise to come back, right?” She hates that she sounds so clingy, but she’s greedy. She doesn’t want him to leave.
“Of course,” he smiles back her and she tries to reciprocate. He can’t be held back, which is one of the things she loves most about him. Once he has his eyes set on something there’s nothing in his way.
“I need this,” he explains while they stare at the clouds, finding the animals in them. “I need to wander, I need to uproot myself. Figure out what’s really a part of myself and not just the stuff around me, you know?” She nods.
But she really doesn’t know. She knows exactly who he is, maybe even better than she knows herself. He’s Sehun-- her best friend and next-door neighbor who’s quietly determined. He loves the way it smells when it rains and he hates sleeping in past 10 am. She doesn’t understand what else he could possibly learn about himself by leaving, at least anything she couldn’t tell him herself.

-

It’s raining and she can’t help but think of him. She always associates that pitter-patter with his stupid smile and irritating smirk. Amber shakes off her umbrella as she sifts through her mail at the doorstep of her apartment building. She’s smiling at the latest piece of mail from him when she reaches her door and nearly drops her keys at the person standing there.
“W-what are you doing here?” She questions, trying to steady her voice.
Sehun smiles sheepishly and she notices the little piece of paper with his stupid handwriting on it. She hates that she could recognize that handwriting anywhere and that it’s just like him. Neat and messy at the same time.
“I was going to leave a note, but I guess that doesn’t matter…” he trails off.
“It’s been five years, Sehun.” She doesn’t know why she sounds so bitter. She hasn’t really felt that way about him this whole time has she? (She’s hated him this whole time. She hates him for leaving her behind. She hates him for not forgetting about her. She hates him for remembering her birthday no matter what country he’s in. She hates him for knowing that she loves pictures of mountains and keeping ticket stubs.)
“I know,” he states matter-of-factly and runs a hand through his hair. It’s longer than he used to keep it and she can’t but help and notice how good it looks on him.
“Did you figure it out?” She’s referring to that lazy afternoon she remembers so clearly.
“I did.”
“And what was it?”
He frowns slightly, “I thought it was obvious.”
She lets out a puff of air exasperatedly, “What are you talking about?”
He laughs slightly and says under his breath, “God Amber you still haven’t changed.”
“Did you get the stuff I sent you?” He asks louder, but he doesn’t wait for her answer. “Everywhere I went I thought of you. Not just the ‘wow I wish Amber was here looking at the Eifel Tower with me’ but weird small things. Like every time I boarded the train I remembered how much you loved them. Every time I walked into a little store and found those stupid plastic rings I had to buy them for you. I would find myself writing notes to you every time I got the chance- on restaurant napkins, maps, and museum brochures. And I just decided to send them to you.”
She glances down at the little ripped piece of paper in his hands. It’s a torn section of a map that she eventually figures out is from Ireland. It has thick, black letters on it that say ‘Wander with me?’
“I said I wanted to figure out who I really was. Leaving everything I knew behind and while I was in a place where I knew absolutely no one and couldn’t speak a word of the native language, there was only one thing I was certain of—you.” He’s stepping closer to her.
“I love you, Amber.” He’s smiling that smile she pretends to hate. “I always have.”
“It only took you twenty-one countries and five years to figure that out,” she says quickly.
“So you did keep track of where I was.” He’s smug again and she just wants to punch him in the face.
“Don’t make me burn them, because I will Oh Sehun, don’t think that I won’t,” she threatens.
“Please, you probably have them under your pillow or something like that.”
She really does punch him this time, “Ouch, Amber!”
She shoves him through her front door and demands, “You owe me.”
“I’ll make dinner. You always did love my cooking.” He smirks and she hates him. She hates how it’s as if nothing has happened between them. She hates how easily they’ve fit back together again. She hates him for making her miss him so much.
“I guess I forgive you.”

row 17; myungsoo/suzy one-shot

2014-01-07T21:18:43Z

angst/broken!myung
1.7k (also, this was partially written backwards and makes sense in my head, but I'm sorry if it seems confusing)

I haven't written fic in forever and I've started again, so this is the first one-shot I finished. Hopefully more to come!

Myungsoo opens his eyes; he's laying down in some weird white room. The very first thing he notices is his empty hand lying limply by his side; the second is the hospital band around his wrist. He shuffles around trying to get a better view of his surroundings, but his muscles are stiff and aching. Soon, there are about six other guys around him seemingly attracted by the sound of his movements.
“Myungsoo,” they all say simultaneously and he can detect the relief, sadness and pity in their voices.
“Hey,” he manages to get out of his scratchy throat.
“Do you remember what happened?” asks Sunggyu.
“Yes,” he turns his head to look out of the window to the blue sky filled with bright, fluffy clouds.
but I wish I could forget.

Traveling alone is his favorite. Much more relaxing than the chaos of seven guys trying to get somewhere together. Everything is quieter, more peaceful. Your thoughts are a dance choreographed to whatever music you choose. The only words you have to say are the mumbled “yes, please”s or “no, thank you”s to the flight attendants. Myungsoo loves to lose himself in his thoughts from the moment the plane leaves the ground. His head is in the clouds, literally and figuratively. He does his best thinking here, staring out the window watching land and ocean beneath the belly of the metal bird grow smaller and smaller.

She hates traveling alone. With nothing to do, she begins to grow restless. Her hands twitch and her leg shakes. Suzy’s never been that talkative of a person, but for some reason she has the strongest urge to talk to whoever she sits next to on the plane. She wants to figure out their story. Her goal for every flight is for strangers at lift off to become friends when they land.
“Hi,” she turns to the guy sitting next to her in the window seat and smiles. “I’m Suzy.”

He gets discharged from the hospital two days later and Sunggyu and Woohyun insist he stay at their apartment. “We want to make sure you’re comfortable,” they say but he really knows they’re thinking, “we want to make sure you’re okay” as in he’s moving on, getting out of this funk of depression he seems stuck in. He hasn’t said anything more than a few curt answers to their questions.
“Are you thirsty?”
“No.”
“Is the couch okay?”
“Sure.”
“Do you want anything?”
To fall and never wake up.
“No, I’m good.”

He listens to the girl next to him talk for at least ten minutes straight, but he doesn’t really mind. She has a nice voice and Myungsoo has always liked listening more than talking. She’s telling a story about her pet cat and she’s so full of life and animated that it makes him feel more alive just being around her. Her laughter momentarily drowns out the engine and he doesn’t realize he’s laughing along with her. He’s not even looking out the window.

“Tell us about her,” says Hoya quietly one night they’re all laying in the apartment’s living room. There was a movie on at some point, but now it’s just background noise. He doesn’t even have to specify and Myungsoo knows it’s directed at him.
He’s quiet for a few minutes before he finds his voice, “She was pretty.” He tucks his arms behind his head and stares at the ceiling, picturing her face on the dull white space. “She was the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen. And that’s not the rose-colored glasses of memories. She really was.”

“Tell me about yourself,” she’s sipping a glass of orange juice and he’s never seen something so mundane look so graceful in his life.
“I’m a photography student,” he shrugs.
“You should take my picture sometime,” her eyes light up and he can see the plans formulating in her head. Her ideal outfit, makeup, and hairstyle flash before her eyes. But he wants to capture her just like this- with her slightly messy airplane hair, comfortable traveling clothes, and small plastic cup of orange juice. The light, the kind that only seems to occur in the sky, spills in through the window and hits her perfectly. He knows it would’ve be the most beautiful photograph he would ever take.

He switches his major to literature and packs away his camera. His professor asks him why and he says he’s just not feeling it anymore. “What a shame, you’re one of my brightest students.”
Myungsoo wants to apologize and offer a better explanation, but he knows he wouldn’t understand. He can’t take photos anymore because nothing measures up to that one photo that won’t get out of his head. It replays over and over. When he’s walking to the bus stop, eating Woohyun’s ramen, watching tv and always when he closes his eyes to sleep. He would give anything, do anything to have that picture. But there’s no way, so he gives up completely.

He shocked to find out that four hours have passed by when it feels like they’ve just taken off.
“Have you ever been in love?” he doesn’t even recognize his own voice. It’s practically acting on its own accord.
She smiles sadly and even that’s heartbreakingly beautiful to Myungsoo, “Once.”
By the fifth hour he finds out the whole story and he sees how much it used to hurt her. He doesn’t know how a guy could possibly do that to someone like her. But she loved freely and he admires that because it’s more than he could ever do.
“What about you?”
“Nope,” he feels almost ashamed for this answer and he doesn’t know why.
“You should try it sometime. Parts of it sucks, but the rest of it is beautiful.”
And he believes her.

“There’s a memorial service. You should go.” Sunggyu tells him one morning while they eat their breakfast.
Myungsoo doesn’t answer because it takes all of his concentration to ignore how much it hurts and focus on eating his fruity pebbles instead.
“We’ll all be there with you.”
So he dresses in black and they all walk together in their dress shoes and stiff ties. They stand in the back of the rows, behind all the family members that are crying and holding onto each other.

He mumbles, “These are the parts that sucks.”

They’re in the middle of listing off their favorite authors (they both have a certain love for words and pretty sentences) when there’s a loud crack that comes from slightly behind them. A panicked flight attendant rushes by offering a stretched smile to the passengers. No one buys it.

Seconds later the pilot is on the pa system listing off procedures calmly and everyone knows their fate. He feels sick to his stomach, not because he knows he’s going to die exactly, but because of the fact that he doesn’t get to fall in love with Suzy. He wants the beautiful parts, he wants the sucky parts, he wants it all and he wants it with her.

He looks over to her and she’s not crying like most of the others on the plane. Her eyes are closed and she looks so calm. He knows she coming to peace with what’s coming in the near future. Probably writing the closing lines to the movie adaptation of her life in her head because that’s something she’d do.

And Myungsoo realizes that he already has that with her- the weird journey of falling in love. Their story is more like a chapter than a novel, but it’s theirs. He realizes that no one will hear this story, of how they met, fell in love, and died together in row 17.

He’s searching frantically through the rows of graves quickly reading the small headstones paid for by the airlines as a menial way of paying back the loved ones. He doesn’t even know her last name. His tie feels like it’s beginning to tighten around his neck. She’s his first love, tragic soul mate and all he knows is that she called herself ‘Suzy’, she loved kittens, drank orange juice, and she reminded him of words from a Charles Bukowski poem.

He finally finds it, flowers wilted in his hands, it’s under Bae; Bae Suji. There are white roses already there and he can’t help but smile because he knew he’d guess her favorite flowers correctly. He sets down his bouquet and when he rejoins his friends (brothers, really) he knows that their story is not just a chapter. It is not an unfinished story abandoned by some writer who has decided to give up. He will finish their novel.

The stewardesses have abandoned their calm facades and have begun to panic with the rest of the passengers. They’re sitting in their little pull down seats clutching each other, crying and praying. Soon they’ll start to plummet and that’s the part Myungsoo dreads the most. He hates rollercoasters.

“It’ll be just like Splash Mountain, won’t it?” He ignores the crack in her voice and the moisture in her eyes and focuses on her lips instead.
“I think it will.” His voice is as steady as he can keep it.
“Good,” she smiles that beautiful smile and it’s genuine, unlike the forced ones of the flight attendants minutes earlier. “It’s my favorite ride.”

It’s been five years and he’s back at her little gravestone with white roses. Before he didn’t even know her last name, but now he has every single character (every crack and detail) on that headstone memorized. Myungsoo knows more concrete details about her from her parents. They like to talk about their lovely daughter and he loves to listen.

He sets down a small stack of papers, bound by a clip, on the grass. It’s his final for his masters in creative writing and he hopes that someone, anyone, will stumble upon it one day and read it.

It’s their story- The Girl in Row 17.

falling

She grips his hand, "I didn't think it was possible in less than eight hours-"

falling

"and even if this wasn't happening, I'd feel the same way." She grins at him; the light is still highlighting her hair perfectly and if he squints it looks like a halo.

falling

"I love y-"

big moments; minho/amber one-shot

2012-08-08T04:11:51Z

gymnastics au; inspired by the olympics ~~of course~~, stick it, & the fab five

“Amber Liu on vault” announced the generic female voice that made Amber always cringe, over the speakers to the audience. Amber stepped up onto the platform and began her routine of dusting chalk onto her feet. It would be her last rotation before the numbers decided who would be going to London. She didn’t feel nervous or anxious or even happy. As she stood at the end of the runway staring down the vault the only thing running through her head was what she hated about gymnastics. She hated the judges and the scoring system; your score only determined how well you measure up next to the standard of perfection. She hated the ‘dangerous’ tricks being scored lowly even though the men were allowed to do them. She hated the leotards most of all; sparkly and pink and constantly refusing to stay in place no matter how much tuff skin she sprayed. If an interviewer were to ask Amber what she liked about gymnastics, at this very moment she’d have no answer.

The horn announcing that she would have to begin her vault routine brought her back to arena. She performed her pre-routine habit of swiping the bottom her left foot and then her right because she knew that no matter how much she might hate gymnastics right in this second, she would still have to run.

“We present to you the 2012 Women’s Gymnastics Olympic Team!” The camera lights flashed, someone shoved a bouquet into their arms, and some old gymnast that had nothing else to do after they retired shook their hands. Amber looked to the girls surrounding her (Luna cried, Victoria didn’t stop smiling, Sulli waved to her fans, and Krystal collected the stuffed animals thrown towards her) and felt like she had stolen a place on the team. She was not a typical gymnast; she didn’t smile the cheesiest smile she could muster towards the judges before starting like Luna, she couldn’t contort her body like Victoria, she didn’t have the beauty the sponsors look for and found in Krystal, and she certainly did not have the bubbly personality that dubbed Sulli the nation’s golden girl. Amber shouldn’t have even been here, but for some reason she was.

Next they brought out the Men’s team and each of the members hugged each other, sharing the excitement, or at least pretending to in Amber’s case. When the last male stepped up in front of her, Amber was pulled into a hug and lifted off of her feet and for the first time since the beginning of the trials she smiled genuinely. When Minho finally let her down he was beaming while he said, “You did it, llama! It’s great to have someone else from my gym that qualified.” She nodded in response and decided that she might have an answer for that interviewer after all.

Together the five girls walk through the village cafeteria and each of them constantly point out the other athletes they recognize. When they sit down and eat their lunches and all of them turn starry eyed at Park Tae Hwan, Amber decides she likes these girls, quite a lot actually. Krystal is in the middle of talking about much she wants to meet Michael Phelps and practice her English with him when Minho suddenly sits down besides Amber.

“Hey girls, I hope I’m not interrupting anything important.” He smirks at Krystal, obviously catching a bit of their conversation before sitting down.

“Hey Minho,” she greets her gymmate. “Where’s the rest of your team?”

He steals one of her grapes before leaning his elbows on the table and saying, “I knew you were interested in Jonghyun, but I didn’t think it was more than you’re interested in me.”

Amber rolls her eyes and throws a grape aiming for his eyes, but to her dismay he catches it easily in his mouth. While still chewing he steals the rest of her grapes and says something about having to go to practice. When he’s out of earshot, at least Amber hopes he is, Victoria shouts “I didn’t know you and Minho were a thing!”

Amber picks up her fork and focuses on her salad, “We’re not. We’re just from the same gym, that’s all.”

Sulli sighes as she pokes at her own salad, “You’re so lucky.”

“Why’s that?”

“Have you seen him?!” exclaims Krystal. “He might even be better looking than Michael.” The sixteen year old girl seems to contemplate this in her head, “Okay, maybe not better but pretty darn close.”

“And he’s obviously way into you,” declared Luna.

Amber just laughed as she opened her vitamin water, “Why would he be when there’s tons of gorgeous female athletes surrounding him here?”

The four other girls just shook their head at Amber’s oblivion.

It’s night before the team finals and Amber knows she should be sleeping but she just lay in bed while staring at the ceiling. She tried to blame it on the loud music coming from the never-ending party down in the rec room, but she knows it isn’t true. Her phone lits up announcing a new text message and when she unlocks her phone under the covers she discovers it’s from the very reason for why she isn’t sleeping.

“Minho? Are you there?” she whispers, although she’s not exactly sure why, when she finally reaches the location specified in the text. ‘In front of the rings in ten.’

He pops out of nowhere and nearly makes her scream. “Now why exactly are we here when we should be resting before finals?” She was still whispering.

He doesn’t speak; he only stares at the giant Olympic rings standing in front of them. The spotlights light them up even in the middle of the night.

“We’re going to climb up those,” he said as he walked closer to the legs that held up the massive symbol.

“Are you crazy?” she yells slightly at him. “Let’s go back to our dorms, we’re going to get in so much trouble.”

His gives her his classic smirk, “Who said we were going to get caught?” He stood next to the base and interlocked his fingers, “Here I’ll give you a boost.”

Before Amber could even think about what she was doing, she found her foot resting in his hands and Minho lifted her high enough to grab onto one of the lower rings. When she was situated she reached down to help Minho up. The two of them sat in the yellow ring with their legs stretched out side by side.

“I’m glad you’re here with me, Amber.” She felt her heart clench at the usage of her real name, Minho always called her by her gym-dubbed nickname.

“Cause we’re from the same gym.” She squeaked.

Even in the dark Amber could see him shake his head. “No, because you’re you.” He says softly. She wonders how long they would have stayed up there if it weren’t for the group of athletes that had a little too much to drink that spotted them up in the rings and telling everyone to ‘look at the two in the rings’ and Amber swears they take a few pictures too. Both of them scramble down and run into the darkness. They don’t stop running until they’re in front of Amber’s room. Even though they’re Olympic athletes and they could run that distance without a problem, they feel their hearts beating crazily.

“Good night Amber.”

“Night,” she whispers.

Once again Amber finds herself staring down that impossibly long runway with the big, beige beast laughing at her. While she chalks her feet once more she realizes that she feels almost absolutely nothing. The other girls describe butterflies or the urge to throw up; she searches and finds neither. For the first time in her life Amber deviates from her pre-routine habits; she looks into the crowd. There sitting in the front row, she spots the men’s team cheering on their female counterparts. That’s when she spots him and that’s when she gets both of those feelings the other girls talk about.

She takes a deep breath and tries to calm herself in swiping her left foot and then her right before starting to run.

The moment her feet touch the mat and don’t leave, she lifts up her arms and arches her back while smiling at the audience, because for the first time she has someone she wants to share the excitement with.

The five girls stand on the top of the podium with their arms wrapped around each other. They only let go of each other when their national anthem is played and Amber actually sings along with the others when she normally just listens. After they step down, the men’s team instantly rushes them and everyone is hugging everyone, admiring everyone’s gold medals. There is one pair that hugs each other, but doesn’t let go.

The teams celebrate their wins together with instant ramen in the captain’s room while watching the other Olympic coverage on SBS, comforted by their first language. Even though they’ve showered and changed, all of them still wear the medals and the smiles.

When Minho hands Amber another container of ramen she smiles even brighter at him. She laughs slightly when she suddenly realizes something. Other couples wear the gold around their fingers, but they would wear it around their necks and Amber wouldn’t have it any other way.

-
i'm such an olympics fan, i had to write an olympics-verse au. gymnastics was the first cause i could just really see minho as a gymnast and if amber were to be one i knew she would feel kind of out of place or something. i love phelps fangirl krystal and how all of them love park taehwan. it's not exactly mentioned but the men's team is pretty much shinee cause f(shinee). amber's vault performance was totally inspired by mckayla maroney and the whole sitting in the rings bit was inspired by this:

there may be other olympics au if i can come up with ideas for who should be what sport, suggestions completely welcome~

before this song ends; jr/suzy one-shot

2012-05-20T06:58:22Z

my newest crackship and i'm dying for them to perform before this song ends live

The club had its very own heartbeat- its pulse the beat of the latest dance track blasting on the large speakers. The bass shook the floor and sent ripples through any drink left behind on a table, abandoned for the dance floor. People’s bodies moved in sync and it didn’t matter if you had consumed any alcoholic substance, everyone was drunk on each other’s energy.

Jaebum and Jinyoung stepped foot into the dark and smoky club instantly consumed by the deafening music. “Why are we even here?” Jinyoung had to yell in order to be heard over the noise.

Jaebum instantly walked over to the dance floor and Jinyoung reluctantly followed. “Learn to loosen up, Jr!” He hated that nickname; it made him feel so juvenile.

He rolled his eyes at his hyung and retreated to sit at the bar as he kept an eye on the blonde haired fellow on the dance floor. He figured he could get away with sticking around for an hour or so until Jaebum got tipsy enough to be able to drag him out of the place without too much protest. Soon enough his friend was surrounded by a crowd of girls dressed in short skirts and low cut tops. Jinyoung could only scoff and take another sip of his water.

Jinyoung barely noticed the dark haired girl that took a seat beside him until she had sighed and propped an elbow up on the counter. “There are literally,” she sighed again, “no good dancers here tonight.”

Jinyoung turned slightly to look at the unimpressed female. She was dressed in a pair of black shorts and a purple top that, when she turned around, was completely sheer and thoroughly showed off her black lace bra. When he saw this he coughed and took another sip of his glass.

Suddenly the girl turned to face Jinyoung. “How about you?”

“Huh?” he asked, utterly confused.

“Can you dance?” He shrugged. This prompted an eye roll from her. Jinyoung pointed to his friend on the dance floor, “What about him?”

The girl laughed loudly and shook her head, “He tries too hard.”

“I tried to tell him that too,” he muttered.

“Dance with me,” she already jumped off the stool and gracefully landed on her high wedged shoes.

He quickly shook his head and held up his nearly empty glass like it offered some sort of excuse his mouth couldn't seem to make.

“But you look like someone who can dance,” she grabbed his wrist and he’s surprised to find that he likes the warmth of her fingertips on his inner wrist, he wondered if she can feel his quickened pulse.

“I don’t think so,” he smirks. “Maybe I’m one of those who tries too hard.”

“Boy, you better dance with me.” She pulled him off his own stool and onto his feet and grabbed his glass and set it down on the bar. “C’mon before this song ends.”

Among Thieves; 3/? Henry/Amber

2012-05-17T07:45:52Z

01/02

“Miss Amber,” the voice was deep and commanding. “Please take a seat.” The words were a request, but the tone of the dark suited man who’s face was obscured from Amber’s voice suggested otherwise. And the glare from the two stocky men sitting in the front seat made the command very obvious. She slid inside the luxury European car shutting the door behind her, refusing to show her fear. Although she was sure that like dogs, he could probably smell fear on a person.

Sitting right across from him, Amber could now see his face. He was surprisingly on the younger side and certainly handsome. But there was a very distinct authoritative aura coming from him and she knew not to underestimate him.

“So you are the famous Amber Liu.” He said while leaning slightly back into the plush leather seat and crossing his arms clearly showing off the very distinct watch on his wrist. It was gold with a deep crimson face and the watch hands were glowing white. Peeling her eyes from the man’s accessory, she answered “And you are the infamous Zhou Mi I assume?”

He chuckled deeply, “You assume correctly.”

“Tell me Zhou Mi, are your assumptions always right?” Her eyes challenged him, but her heart was beating crazily in her chest. Her body language was void of any visible nervousness (lesson one in how to fool the polygraph).

He stared at the intriguing sixteen year old girl sitting in his car before answering. “Yes, I am usually right.” He smirked, “And if I am wrong, well let’s just say no one lives to say otherwise.”

“Well you’re wrong this time,” her voice didn’t waver though her throat felt as if it would. “My father doesn’t have your paintings.”

“My sources say otherwise.”

“Maybe you need new sources.”

Zhou Mi uncrossed his arms and leaned forward invading Amber’s personal space. When his face was inches away from her own he whispered, “Can you deliver a message for me? I wanted to pay your father a visit, but it seems as if he is already entertaining some other company.”

The hair on Amber’s back stood on end and a shiver ran though her body even though she was dressed a warm coat and the heater in the car was on full blast.

“I will do anything to get my paintings back.”

Amber had not heard the things Zhou Mi has done. She had not seen the mass murders of Chinese drug lords, the serial bank robbings, or even the massive smuggling ring, but she knew that the man in front of her was capable of some very, very bad things.

She nodded, showing her understanding.

“Good girl.” He signaled his body guards and the driver started the car and one stepped out and walked over to Amber’s side.

“I’ll give you two weeks.”

“You know we’ll take less than that, we’re the Lius.”

He couldn’t help but laugh, clearly amused by the spunky girl. “Of course.”

Her door was suddenly opened and she was promptly half lifted, half dragged out of her seat and onto the pavement. In her hand appeared a plain white business card with ‘ZM’ embossed on the front and a handwritten note on the back. Two weeks was all it had said.

▬ ♦ ▬

Amber opened the door of Henry’s bedroom without a sound. She sat on the foot of his bed when she felt him sit up suddenly and flip on the lights.

“My father didn’t do it.”

When Henry recognized the face of the intruder he relaxed and rested back against his headboard. “Funny, I didn’t hear the doorbell.”

“I let myself in, I thought I was practically family.”

He rubbed a hand over his tired face, “Security system?”

Amber let out a flat laugh, “I told you were due for an upgrade.” And she gestured toward the small bag of tools on the floor next to the window.

Henry crossed his arms and laughed while rolling his eyes. No matter how exhausted Amber was, his bare chest did not go unnoticed. She quickly averted her eyes and concentrated on more important matters than her friend’s undeniably well-defined upper body.

“My father couldn’t have stolen Zhou Mi’s collection in Hong Kong because he robbed a small gallery in Tokyo the same night.”

Henry’s small smile disappeared. “Is he still in Japan?”

She nodded. A slight look of admiration appeared on Henry’s face. “Let me guess, a stash and a tail he can’t lose is keeping him from leaving?”

“You could say that.”

“Did he tell you what he’s going to do?”

Amber lifted the blanket and stuck her feet under the covers warm from Henry’s body heat. “He had me shake his tail for him and then just he disappeared.”

He stared at her right in the eye and said, “Must run in the family.”

She laughed dryly and felt her hand slip into her pocket where the edge of the thick paper brought her back to the harsh reality that she faced. Her hands pulled out the little card and she flipped it back and forth.

“What’s that?” asked Henry.

“Zhou Mi’s calling card?”

Alarmed, his feet fell to the wooden floor. “You met with Zhou Mi?” he exclaimed.

“Technically, he met with me.” Henry was not amused. “I was just walking back from meeting with my dad. He gave me a ride to the airport.”

“You sat in Zhou Mi’s car?”

“God Henry, shut up. I’m obviously fine right?”

“No, you don’t look fine.”

“Well I am.” She sighed and ran a hand through her hair. “He still thinks my dad has his paintings and he says he gives me two weeks.” Henry jumped out of bed and the still very teenaged and foolish part of Amber noticed his Captain America pajama pants.

“Nice pants.”

“Please tell me you aren’t thinking about dealing with Zhou Mi.” He walked in front of Amber and grabbed her shoulders. “Amber, you can’t possibly think you are going to solve this on your own. Zhou Mi is all sorts of evil and Uncle Yoosung said he means business.”

She waved off the comment like it didn’t mean anything, like it didn’t make her throat dry up and her palms sweat.

“My dad is stuck with a very persistent Interpol officer and a very persistent Asian mafia leader thinks he has his paintings when he doesn’t. What else am I supposed to do?” Her voice grew raspy for once and tears pricked her eyes. (Never cry, crying shows weakness. Don’t cry unless you are using it to get something.) She drew in a deep breath and turned away from Henry.

“You’ve got to convince him that your dad is the wrong guy.”
“I tried, Zhou Mi isn’t exactly very easily persuaded.”

Henry sat back down next to her, his hand just centimeters away from her right pinky. She resisted the urge to intertwine their fingers together, seeking the comfort of someone else’s warmth on her cold hands.

“So what are we going to do?”

“We’ll give Zhou Mi exactly what he’s asking for- his paintings.”

He laughed his signature flippant-son-of-a-billionaire-laugh, “And how are we going to do that if we don’t have them.”

“We’ll steal them.”

▬ ♦ ▬

Walking through the bustling streets of Seoul, the pair both donned open coats and scarves draped around their necks. It should have been snowing, but it wasn’t and everyone felt as if they had cheated winter. The air was brisk, but the sky was clear and the sun warmed people’s faces. It was the best time to pull a con, people got comfortable enjoying the weather that really shouldn’t be occurring. A few steps ahead of Amber and Henry walked a well dressed man in a very expensive and well fitting suit, he talked into the latest smartphone and his shoes were spotless. Some would call him handsome, but Amber did have Donghae Liu as a father and spent a good amount of time with Henry and quickly learned the difference between attractive and truly handsome. An elder man walking in the opposite direction smoothly bumped into the businessman, apologizing right away while grabbing onto his coat for support. The two parted ways and soon the man stood in front of the two teenagers.

“Hello Uncle Yoosung,” said Amber.

You would expect one of the world’s greatest thieves to have a fancy penthouse in the city or a grand mansion somewhere in the country. Her uncle had neither, it was a homey three bedroom apartment with a large kitchen and living room. Amber had learned at a young age that rules, if you knew them really well, could be broken sometimes. Which is why Uncle Yoosung was the only one with a permanent address.

The large wooden door was opened and Amber immediately felt at home when she stepped inside. There was no way to describe the scent of the home, but everyone who had visited recognized the unique and rustic aroma immediately. The slightly grey haired man slipped the leather wallet from his pocket and threw it on an already large pile of wallets and other personal belongings. She knew if she looked there would be at least an id, some credit cards and a good amount of cash. The man had been wearing Armani of course. She also knew that the cash and cards would remain untouched with the rest of the stolen goods. He really had no need to pick pocket, he simply did because he could.

Her uncle walked into the kitchen and said, “Sit.” Henry rushed over to the large wood dining table and Amber followed behind slowly. In no time there were large bowls of kimchi stew in front of them along with huge servings of rice. Henry began eating immediately and Amber swears the boy eats like he hasn’t been fed in weeks.

She picks up her spoon and studies the worn tabletop beneath her. The greatest heists had been planned at this very table. The Korean National Bank Caper had been plotted when she was five and the plan to steal an entire factory’s Chinese silk supply was made right in this very home. That room, however was currently silent except for the slurping coming from beside Amber who was trying to figure out how to possibly ask to rejoin what she had already walked away from.

She was saved by the noise of the door opening and two slender, pretty girls walking in each with an armful of umbrellas.

“Amber!” They screeched when they walked into the kitchen and immediately ran over to embrace the girl who had wished to just slip back into the family. The Choi twins were not technically twins, but being only 11 months apart and clearly alike in appearance they were often mistaken for a pair. Sulli was the older and taller of the two, though Krystal’s mature looks often caused people to believe that she was the eldest.

“And you brought Henry!” smiled Sulli and Henry responded with a quick wave and the best smile he could manage with cheeks full of food. “We haven’t seen you since Bangkok.”

When he swallowed he asked, “How’s the head?” The girl giggled and said, “Completely fine, a Thai doctor stitched me up great.”

“A cute one at that!” interjected Krystal.

Amber was still stuck on Bangkok. They were in Thailand? Of course they pulled a job in Bangkok, a job without her. She pushed the thought away and focused on the strange objects the twins had entered with. She motioned to the assortment of umbrellas, “Marry Poppins?”

Krystal nodded and Sulli said, “Want in?” Uncle Yoosung cleared his throat loudly and the two girls promptly picked up their supplies and walked out of the room. “We have to catch up okay Amber?” She nodded and said softly, “Yes we do.”

Henry’s chair made a scraping noise as he stood up to get another bowl of the stew. Amber set her spoon down and resisted the urge to clear her throat.

“We need your help Uncle Yoosung,” she glanced quickly at Henry before looking back to the older man. “I need your help.”

“There’s not much I can do, Amber.” He continued to eat his food. “I’m just an old man.” He feigned a very helpless tone, but Amber knew that the man in front of her was anything but incapable. She had seen him do some incredible things, dangerous things and hatch ingenious plans. It’s not that he couldn’t help, he wouldn’t.

“My father doesn’t have the paintings. He’s got an alibi, I visited him in Tokyo.”

Henry returned to his seat and took a sip of the broth before interjecting, “Zhou Mi paid Amber a little visit.”

For the first time that afternoon her uncle dropped his spoon. His facial expression did not waver, however, and she finally knew how he had won $16 billion won in a single poker game- without cheating.

“I told you to get better taste in men, darling.”

“Don’t worry I turned him down.” Amber didn’t smile. “He said he’d give me two weeks. He doesn’t care who stole them, he just wants his paintings back.”

Her great-uncle suddenly looked very old. He was nearing seventy and his grey hair clearly showed that, but never had Amber ever though of him as old. Wise and experienced was what came to mind.

“And how are you going to do that if your father doesn’t have them?”

“We’re going to steal them.” She swear she saw his eyes twinkle.

“Who is ‘we’?” He said while picking up his spoon again, instantly taking a scoop of rice.

Henry opened his mouth to speak, but Amber cut him off. “Henry and I.” She didn’t look at the boy next to her when she said, “We can do it.”

“I still don’t see how I can be of any use to you two.”

“While we don’t know where the person is or who they are,” she sat a little straighter. “We know where they’ve been.”

“Finish your food first, Amber.” She smiled slightly as she finished the rest of her stew and rice and it finally felt like she was back in the family.

When the dishes were cleared Uncle Yoosung disappeared into the large pantry, but emerged with a large roll of blue paper. When he unrolled it on the table the intricate blueprints were revealed. Amber could have told you that Zhou Mi’s home, or rather fortress, would be well secured, but seeing the specs on paper just made it that more real and untouchable.

Henry whistled the way some guys whistled at girls or cars. “The guy who hit this must be a genius.”

“Or an idiot,” said Amber. Henry just nodded in agreement while focusing on the incredibly tall walls or the numerous guard shacks cornering the outside of

his home.

When they left the familiar home it was already dark outside and the cold wind seeped through Amber’s light coat. She had really wished that she had grabbed a pair of gloves. To anyone else watching them they could have passed as a normal pair of teenagers going for a walk at night, maybe even as a couple. But they weren’t, they were just an odd pair of someone who ran away and someone who was run away from.

“Zhou Mi’s got some tight security for a private collection,” said Henry as he put one arm around her shoulder when Amber shivered slightly.

“He likes to protect his investments.”

The two walked in silence down the street. Henry spoke so softly she almost didn’t catch him say, “Don’t run away anymore Amber.”

After so many years living with her family she wasn’t sure if she was lying or not when she said, “I won’t.”

▬ ♦ ▬

Macau was filled with enough lights and slot machines to rival Las Vegas. Like any other gambling capitol, visitors flocked to have a vacation, escape real life or maybe get rich off of nothing. In some ways they were no different then her family of thieves- trying to steal something that didn’t belong to them.

When Amber and Henry walked into the marbled floored lobby of the largest hotel in Macau, she knew that theory did not apply to the International Information Technology Conference that was occurring in the hotel’s main ballroom. The makeshift lecture hall was chilled by an air conditioner running on full blast and the guest speaker stood at the front with a podium. He was currently going through a hundred slide power point presentation about the benefits of HTML5.

“Is he even in here?” Henry questioned, but Amber noticed his eyes remained focused on the glass windows that showed the busy floor of the casino.
“Right there by the projector. Two rows from the left. Blue sweater vest.”

“We could wait outside until this thing is over or he leaves or something. I need to attend to some things.” He leaned in closer and Amber tried to ignore the chills his breath sent down her back even though it was warm.

“You mean play blackjack?”

Henry didn’t even bother to deny it and grinned the classic smile that must have gotten him out of even the toughest situations his whole life. “That doesn’t work on me you know.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” but he stopped smiling.

Two hours later, Amber’s hands were thoroughly frozen and the speaker was currently holding a debate with one of the conference attendees about the issue of IP address conflicts when she noticed the light brown haired figure slip out the side door of the ballroom. She quickly grabbed sleeping Henry’s arm and they silently rushed out of the room. The three teenagers occupied the empty hallway and no one inside the ballroom missed them. “Hi Jinki,” said Henry smoothly.

I finally got some inspiration/motivation to write this and hopefully I keep updating as soon as summer starts. As I have said before, this story is HEAVILY INSPIRED by Heist Society by Aly Carter. In fact about 75-90% of the plot is directly from the book. I try to mix up the dialogue and create some new plot lines, but some of the wording is just really great (while I do not copy directly) I incorporate parts of her descriptions. This is not at all 100% my own work, but I am trying to deviate from her work more and more with each chapter and I believe some of the outcomes are going to be a little different. The plans of kat and her crew are so creative that I don't think I am able to come up with new ones and might just use the ones from the book as well as the traditional 'heist names' and such. I did come up with my own in this chapter (the marry poppins if you spotted it hah). So I apologize if you have read the novel and find it incredibly similar or if you happened to believe that I was able to come up with this all on my own. But pretty much this is me just substituting henber into one of my favorite novels because I think they'd be great thieves. Okay, ending the ridiculously long author's note now & again I'm sorry for taking so long

When Memories Fade; 2/?

2012-04-28T08:00:24Z

Pairing: Henry/Amber
Genre: AU
Summary: Henry's wife dies in a car accident six months after they get married and a few months later he starts to lose all his memories of her. Amber is a genius Psychology Major who needs to find someone with a psychological problem for her class project.

chapter 1

Henry and Amber sat in the little coffee shop on campus. Henry hadn’t been in here since Sora died. He hated coffee, but she couldn’t go a morning without her double shot of espresso. So he sat with some sort of iced tea concoction that he could barely stomach but he sipped it just to have something to do with this hands. Amber sat across from him with one of those blended ice drinks that seemed very chocolatey. She reached into her black backpack and pulled out a spiral notebook and dug some more for a pen. When she located the writing utensil from the depths of her bag she straightened and opened the notebook on the table.

“I don’t really have any questions just yet, so why don’t you just talk to me. Does that sound okay?”

Henry took another sip and nodded. “Um about me and Sora?”

“Sure, whatever you want.”

“Uh we got married in our junior year. People say we got married too young, but at the time it seemed like there was nothing more natural. We were so wrapped up in each other and I didn’t really realize it at the time, but we were that couple. You know the ones that are so sickingly lovey dovey with each other. Yeah that.”

“How long were you two married?”

“She died two months after our second anniversary. She was driving home and got hit by a drunk driver. They caught the guy though.” Amber scribbled in her notebook and Henry tried not to be bothered by it.

“What did you love about her?” Amber stares at Henry right in the eyes.

“I loved how she made me feel at home wherever I was with her.” Henry laughed a little at his own cheesiness. “I know this sounds ridiculous, but you know that song? Home by Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros? Yeah that’s how it felt with her.”

Her eyes still don’t leave his as she says, “I love that song.” She quickly glanced away and cleared her throat drawing her attention back to her notebook and pen. “So, Henry, when did you first start noticing that you were forgetting things?”

“I’m pretty sure I began forgetting things long before I realized it. The smallest things went first, really miniscule details. But the first time I forgot something, something big, was on her birthday. I couldn’t remember what her favorite type of flower was- I was buying flowers for her grave you see. Things have just gotten worse since.”

“I see,” she said and scribbled more notes on her paper. Henry could have easily leaned forward ever so slightly to make out the words (he always did seem to have pretty useless talents, one being reading upside down), but he decided he didn’t want to read them. Because reading about whatever was wrong with him on paper, like he was at a doctor’s appointment, would make everything just feel too real and too much like an incurable disease. He could imagine it already- groups of doctors standing around him talking like he isn’t even there. ‘It’s a rather unusual case. What do you think doctor?’ ‘Will he be able to be cured doctor?’ ‘We should run some tests doctor.’ He shivered at the thought.

“So what’s the prognosis, doc?”

Amber leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms. “Well, it’s certainly nothing I’ve seen before.” She paused before gazing out of the fogged up window and stared at the people walking by. “Most people would give anything to forget as a way to cope and when they do they wouldn’t be begging to get those memories back- like you.”

Henry pushes his still mostly full glass of tea away and leans his elbows on the table to hear her better even though she’s speaking loudly enough.

“That’s the one reason I don’t think it’s your subconscious suppressing memories like most people do. It’s a common coping mechanism, but that’s just it- you’re not coping. In fact it’s driving you insane. You are definitely not suppressing these memories voluntarily or at least not very easily.”

“So what do we do now?”

She closes the cover of her book. “I’ll be very honest with you Henry, this is way beyond my expertise. This should go to someone way higher up than me and maybe even my professor. But I know Donghae wouldn’t ask me for a favor unless he it’s absolutely necessary, so he must really care about you. Plus, I know you kind of want to keep this under wraps. I promise I’m going to try my best, but don’t expect answers right away. It’s going to take a lot of research and a lot of me bugging you. But as long as you’re up for it, so am I. So what do you say?”

He runs a hand through his hair, “At this point Amber, I’m willing to do anything.”

She smiles, “Okay. Tonight, my house or yours?”

As Henry unlocks the main door to his apartment he is suddenly overcome with a surge of self-consciousness. Since Sora died, Henry has not invited anyone into his home except Donghae. He cleaned at least every other week and it was mostly presentable, but he began to worry about things like leaving his laundry on the couch or dirty dishes in the sink. He was relieved when he poked his head in and there was no immediate sign of anything embarrassing or things to show Henry’s true lazy nature. He really was a slob and Sora had been the one to improve his hygiene because his college freshman self had believed that it was socially acceptable to wear jeans more than three times without washing.

“Would you like anything to drink?” He motioned for her to take a seat on the couch. “And please make yourself at home.” He didn’t know why he was suddenly repeating all the things Sora or his mother would say to houseguests to her. Normally he’d just smile and tell them it’s okay to put their feet up on the table and help themselves to the fridge, beers in the bottom drawer. He felt a strange need to be hospitable towards her and treat her properly.

“Water’s fine,” she answered. Henry handed her a glass of water and sat on the other chair across from the couch clutching his own diet coke.

She thanked him and rested the glass on her knee, but she seemed to take a deep breath before saying, “Henry, I think we should get to know each other more and just be more comfortable. Because before I can help you figure out what’s happening to you and your subconscious I have to know you. Let’s just treat this as two acquaintances hanging out?” He nodded, but his back seemed to be upright at an uncomfortable angle and he hadn’t even opened his can of soda yet. “And please, don’t be so… formal with me. I’m just Amber, a twenty year old tomboy who likes pizza and video games.” She smiled at him hoping to add reassurance when she said, “So relax.”

Henry’s proper posture instantly reverted to his normal slouched shoulders and he popped open the tab of his coke and took a swig. He chuckled at himself because he really had no idea why he was so nervous.

“I like pizza and video games too,” he added. Amber seemed shocked at this. “Really?” She cocked her head to the side and squinted as if she were examining him closer. “I pictured you to be this super uptight musical professor who is totally upper crust and Mozart this and Bach that.” She straightened before doing her best British accent, “I went to theatre last night and the orchestra was phenomenal, but the conductor.” She held a hand to her forehead and shook her head. “He didn’t wear white gloves.”

Henry laughed so hard he doubled over in his chair and had to put his drink down on the table so he could properly clutch his stomach with both hands.

“I do not sound like that! I’m Canadian, not British.”

“I know,” she smirked before leaning back into the chair. “But my British accent is so much better than my Canadian and it just fit the mold of cultured snob.”

“Did you really think I would be like that?”

She just shrugged. “It’s not like you didn’t have some sort of picture of what I would be like in you mind.”

Henry straightened and after some thought he realized that he did have some sort of expectation of what she was like. “I guess I thought you would be this super indie sort of intellectual. I mean you’re getting your masters and you’re twenty for god’s sakes. I figured you were the type that studies in coffee shops- drinks an espresso, no cream just sugar, and goes to art galleries and poetry slams. I bet you own a vintage film camera and only listen to records and you hate James Cameron movies.”

It was Amber’s turn to laugh and she choked out, “That is not even the least bit true. Although I’m pretty sure you just described at least half of my intro to psych class.”

“Guess we’re both not what we seem,” mused Henry.

The pair spent the rest of the night comparing their interests and found that they held more in common than they thought. Their favorite hobbies turned out to be eating, sleeping and watching movies. Henry impressed her with his dvd collection, but she boasted that she possessed all the seasons of Psych on dvd (which just so happened to be both of their favorite tv shows). He made her promise to bring it over and let them have a marathon all weekend. It was nearly midnight when Henry showed Amber to the door and he felt slightly guilty that she had to head back to her off campus apartment on her own, but she had insisted that she go on her own. “I can handle myself, Henry,” she said just smiling and left with a quick goodbye and the promise to call about the next time they could meet up. He shut the door and as he locked the bolt he thought that maybe even if they weren’t able to figure out what was going on with his memories that he’d at least get a new friend out of it.

foolish⟶ shikyung/jaeshin The King 2 Hearts; one-shot

2012-04-23T07:23:59Z

just a quick little one-shot (or group of drabbles really) about the ~~very few~~ scenes between the best couple on this show, & it's from the pov of shi kyung & his growing feelings/struggle between is straight-lacedness and being in love. this was pretty much just a way to get all of my feelings about this perfect otp out in writing and it kind of sort of sucks bleh
note: contains spoilers up to ep 10

Most other officers in such high standing as him, son of the royal secretary, would be offended at the mission, if it could even be called that. Babysitting the princess was more like it, but Eun Shi Kyung was not like most other officers and he actually viewed it as an honor. He was viewed trustworthy enough to be put in charge of Korea’s only princess.
But as he stepped into the dark and smoky club his instincts told him that this was not going to be what he expected. When she took off that blonde wig he knew he had screwed up majorly. He also thought for a split second that the princess was as pretty as people described her, but it was quickly overwhelmed with panicked plans on how to remedy the situation he had foolishly created.

He couldn’t believe that he was making a wish on a shooting star. A shooting star of all things. He glanced at the princess and her eyes were closed and a small smile graced her lips. He was slightly envious of how carefree she seemed and that she didn’t have a book of rules to follow- well actually she did, she just chose to ignore it. Her eyes fluttered open and he was shocked and worried that he had been caught staring that he hadn’t even answered her question.
He was brought back to his senses when she started laughing- at him. He straightened his shoulders back to proper posture and instantly started to defend himself. He didn’t know why he was saying all these things or why her laughing had made him feel so silly or why his eyes were watering. He just felt the need to make her understand him.
And after her song finished he realized what he had really wished; that someone like her could love someone like him.

He acts annoyed with her on the phone when he’s really looking forward to seeing her. He rushes through his work to make sure he can leave as soon as she calls. But when ‘seven-ish’ comes and passes he begins to worry. A huge lump lodges in his throat and refuses to go away when he sits in the car desperately searching the darkness. For once he doubts himself, doubts going by the book because there is no answer for why he feels like this, so attached.
The nervous lump goes away when he sees her body on the ground, limp and lifeless and twisted at a terrible angle. It is immediately replaced with sheer anger and as soon as he checks to see if she’s breathing he just runs with fists clenched. He doesn’t know where he’s going, but he’s determined to catch whoever did this to her. He promises her that he’ll make them pay because he doesn’t know what he’ll do if he loses her.

He hates himself. He hates that he can’t do anything. She struggles everyday, but just pushes him further away. He thought he was doing something to cheer her up when he brought the once crippled bird as a pet for her. Instead, it just rubbed it in her face that she wasn’t going to walk again. He thinks he’s really screwed it up. Until he sees her around the palace with the bird sitting on her wheelchair.

He doesn’t want to leave her, not even for a second, but he knows it’s his duty to sort out the situation. He hopes that when she says she doesn’t want to be left alone she really just doesn’t want him to leave. However, he knows that isn’t true and banishes the foolish thought from his head. So when she asks him if he’ll come back quickly he has to stop himself from grinning like a little schoolboy when he says, “Of course.”

When Memories Fade; 1/?

2012-03-14T00:48:33Z

Pairing: Henry/Amber
Genre: AU
Rating: PG
Summary: Henry's wife dies in a car accident six months after they get married and a few months later he starts to lose all his memories of her. Amber is a genius Psychology Major who needs to find someone with a psychological problem for her class project.

Henry closed his eyes one more time and strained his brain to try to remember what she was wearing when he first saw her. It was the first day of his freshman year and they had Music Theory 101. He remembered her long dark hair and cute giggle as he made the stupidest jokes to her when the professor turned his back towards the class. He could remember all of those details, but no matter how hard he tried he could not picture the clothes she had worn that day. Was it a dress? A skirt? It frustrated him that a few months ago he could probably even tell you what kind of pencil she had first used, but now he couldn’t even remember the color top she wore. And soon he wouldn’t even remember their first conversation.

He quickly closed the thick notebook in which he tried to record all the details he could remember and what he couldn’t. Each day the latter grew longer and Henry grew more despondent. He put the book back in his safe place and went to go get ready for work. As he brushed his teeth he tried his best to ignore the empty sink next to his own.

Henry was greeted by a smiling Donghae and he set down his coffee and briefcase on his desk before stating, “You’re way too perky for 8 am.”

“I’m just happy, that’s all.” There he goes again Henry thought.

He sat down in his chair with a sigh and began to pull out the stack of papers he had to grade. He and Donghae were both music professors at Seoul National University.

“What’s bothering you today?” He heard his office mate ask. The man was a genius piano player, but sometimes he could get annoying.

“Um, nothing. Just have a lot of work to do.”

“Liar,” Donghae accused while tossing up a crumpled piece of paper into the toy hoop hanging above their wastebasket. “You forgot something again.”

Henry ran a hand over his face before admitting, “Yes. What she was wearing when we met in MT 101 here.”

Donghae looked at him sympathetically. He was the only person that knew what was happening to Henry; that he was slowly losing all the memories he has of his late wife. He had been Henry’s roommate and friends with the both of them, even the best man at their wedding. It troubled him to see how much this affected Henry, his best friend, and he became seriously worried as this ‘condition’ seemed to worsen each week. After a few moments of silence he asked him, “Have you seen anyone about it? Maybe a doctor or therapist?”

Henry quickly shook his head and added, “They’ll look at me like I’m crazy. And I do not have a problem.”

“But it is a problem. You’re not acting like yourself, we hardly spend any time together outside of work, and you just don’t seem happy anymore. Just promise me you’ll think about it.”

Henry just nodded to get him off the subject. “I gotta get to class.”

In the middle of his living room floor Henry sat with hundreds of pictures strewn all around him on the hardwood flooring. It was a rainy Saturday afternoon Henry decided to bring out all of the photo albums buried deep in his closet. Right after her death he couldn’t even look at the box without hurting. Now he thought he would go through all the pictures he had of her and them together to see if it triggered any of his memories. But when he started to look at the pictures he wasn’t able to recall where they were taken or what they had been doing. He frantically began trying to organize the photos in a timeline sort of arrangement and gather any sort of clues he could to remember those moments. But pictures are just a snapshot in time and unless you are there experiencing it, so many things are left unsaid, unrepresented. Henry felt like an outsider looking at these photos, asking himself questions like “What are these two feeling?” “Does he love her?” “Where are they going?” “Is she looking at him like she loves him?”

He finally came across one on their wedding day and he realized he couldn’t even remember the vows they had said to one another. He squeezed his eyes shut in an effort to rack his memory; he refused to forget something as important as this. “Where they the generic kind or did we write our own? Did I sing her a song?” He muttered to himself. After a few minutes he started to cry and out of frustration he gathered all the photos and threw them back into the box not bothering to sort them back into their respective albums.

He stood in front of the bathroom mirror supporting his upper body against the countertop with his arms as he drew in shaky breaths.

Donghae’s words replayed from a month ago replayed in his mind. ‘You’re not acting like yourself, we hardly spend any time together outside of work, and you just don’t seem happy anymore.’ Life had been difficult after Sora’s death and losing his memories on top of that just made everything ten times worse. Since he had said those words Henry had forgotten even more things and it shook him to his core. He could not keep on going on like this.

He would give anything to just remember all the details about her because if he couldn’t have the real thing he could at least have her in his heart or mind. Even if that meant seeking the help his friend had suggested.

Henry walked into their office and before Donghae could give his normal greeting he quickly asked, “Remember when you told me to think about getting some… help?” The dark haired man simply nodded. “Well, I have been thinking and whatever is causing me to lose my memory is getting worse and soon I might not even be able to tell you what she looked like without looking at a picture. I don’t know how much a psychiatrist or a doctor can help me, but I’ve decided that I at least have to try whatever I can to get my memories with Sora back.”

Donghae leaned backwards in his chair slightly and crossed his fingers, “Maybe you don’t have to go to a doctor at all.”

Henry had a confused look on his face as he sat down and questioned Donghae.

“I’m thinking any professional will just say some crap like you’re repressing your memories as a coping mechanism and move on to the next patient with a grossly overpriced check in the mail for you. But I know someone that might help you dig a little deeper and free of charge.”

“Please tell me who this miracle worker is?” Henry said skeptically.

“Actually I can show you,” Donghae replied. “At lunch.”

Henry followed Donghae through the school’s courtyard and pulled his coat closer around his body to shield him from the oncoming raindrops. He almost bumped into him when Donghae had stopped suddenly.

“She’s over there,” he gestured to the fountain area of the courtyard. Henry craned his neck to look over his shoulder and saw only one girl sitting on the ledge of the fountain with a pair of headphones and a text book in front of her crossed legs. Her hair was cut short she dressed in very casual clothes in jeans, sneakers and hoodie.

“What? Her?” He questioned his friend. “She looks like she’s a freshman or at a sophomore at the very most. How can she help me?”

“That is Amber Liu, and actually she’s getting her masters in Psychology.”

Henry almost choked when he heard what Donghae had said. “Masters? She looks like she’s eighteen.”

“She’s the genius of the Psychology department. Graduated High School early and enrolled at sixteen. She just turned twenty and she started her masters this year.”

The girl happened to look up and see the pair standing together when her face lit up with recognition. “Donghae!” She yelled and waved at him a little.

Donghae walked towards her as he said, “Oh yeah, and she’s my cousin and she owes me a favor.”

Amber stood and shook Henry’s outstretched hand when Donghae introduced him. “Amber, this is Henry Lau. He’s a colleague and good friend of mine. He’s from Canada. Amber grew up in LA.”

Henry flashed a small smile to the girl.

“Have you eaten yet?” asks Donghae. Amber reaches over for her book and closes it shut and shoves it in her backpack.

“Actually, no.” She pulls a cap out of her bag and settles it on her head. “But you know that even if I did I would still eat again.”

“I still have yet to figure out how you eat so much, yet stay so skinny.” Donghae looks at Amber then Henry. “Same with Henry here. I swear the guy’s a garbage disposal.”

For most of the lunch Henry is quiet and Donghae and Amber do most of the talking. While their plates are cleared and they wait for the check, Donghae clears his throat before saying, “Actually, Amber there’s a reason I decided to meet with you for lunch.”

She raises one eyebrow while sipping her Coke, prompting him to continue.

“Remember that favor you still owe me? I’m cashing that in right now.” Amber stayed silent but she seemed definitely intrigued. “You see… Henry needs a little help and you need a subject for your class project.”

Henry scoffs and says, “You make it sound so… weird. Let me explain.” He turns towards Amber and turns his glass around in his hands. “I’m starting to lose my memory.”

She looks a little disappointed, “Did you hit your head recently? It’s probably amnesia and you should go to a doctor.”

Henry shook his head and smiled kind of sadly, “It’s only specific memories. Ones of my wife that died in an accident a year ago. It wasn’t that bad at first. They were small details- like what book she read last; the kinds of things you’d expect to forget gradually. But then it kept getting worse and worse and I’m forgetting things I once thought I’d remember forever.” He pauses and looks out the window and his voice cracks slightly when he says, “I can’t even remember most of our wedding day anymore.”

Amber stares at him finding his story both fascinating and tragic at the same time.

Henry returns his gaze to the table. “So will you help me?”

stuck in transition

2012-02-26T09:29:22Z

Pairing: Myungsoo/Amber
A/N: a really random one-shot that was originally inspired by this photo and was intended to be a fluffy, little drabble that somehow turned into this. Written post-school sleepover and hardly proofread, so apologizes in advance. I honestly felt like the transitions between the paragraphs here aren't the greatest, but I tried my best.

⇌

The sky was filled with stars and it was the kind of night where you weren’t sure if it was summer or autumn. It couldn’t fit completely in either categories, but was a blurred transition between the two.

⟵

When Amber finally heard her parents’ door click shut and saw the light disappear she threw the covers off of herself and jumped out of bed. She grabbed her things she had prepared earlier before pretending to go to sleep. She slipped on her sneakers and opened the window slowly to prevent any squeaking. After tossing her sleeping bag and bags of sugary goodies she climbed through the opening. She scaled down the trellis that she had often used so many nights before. Without missing a beat, she dropped the few feet left from the bottom of the trellis to the ground, picked up her things and jumped over the short fence separating the two houses.

Amber knew she could easily use the front door and the gate because her parents knew exactly where she would be (they had been doing this since their freshman year), but she decided that it was for the principle of sneaking out or at least tradition’s sake.

Once inside her neighbor’s yard she walked to the side of the house. The window on the second floor, directly across from her bedroom window, was open.

“Psst Myungsoo!” She tried her best at whisper yelling, a giggle escaping her lips. A few seconds later she watched a darkly dressed figure complete the same steps she had just done. He however, had seemed to lose one of his belongings. Amber, never being known for patience, hurried him along. Her leg slightly shook in sheer anticipation and adrenaline pumped through her veins.

Finally straightening after locating his last bag of sour patch kids, Myungsoo sighed, “When will you ever learn to have some patience Amber?” Even though it was dark, Amber could practically see him rolling his eyes.

She began walking towards his backyard when she retorted, “Maybe when you start doing things faster.”

Myungsoo’s laughter could be heard from behind before he choked out, “That’s what she said.”

Not bothering to even acknowledge his immaturity, she walked directly to the large trampoline set up in the Lee’s backyard. She tossed up her sleeping bag and carefully set her share of the snacks on top. After taking a few steps back, she took a running jump to get up on the trampoline. Myungsoo, being taller than Amber, got on much easier.

⇌

This ritual had started four years ago, the night before they started their freshman year. Both neighbors and childhood friends had trouble sleeping. For no apparent reason really, they had just decided to lie out on his trampoline and somehow sleep came easily.

As they slipped inside their superhero sleeping bags and opened their cavity inducing treats, Amber couldn’t help but feel sad.

“If I could pause time, I would chose to just live this day forever for the rest of my life.”

Myungsoo turned on his side to face her and he propped up his head with his arm. “Me too,” he whispered.

She scooted ever so closer to him and grabbed a sour worm before continuing. “It’s like we’re stuck between this stage of school and summer. It’s exciting, yet sad at the same time because there’s hope of what’s to come and reluctance to leave behind what you already have. In this eight-hour period, for one night, you’re not anything. You’re not a free teenager living a lazy summer and you’re not a stressed out student.” She slowly faded out not really knowing what she was even trying to say.

“You’re just stuck in transition.” He finished for her.

She smiled slightly to herself, “Yeah. Stuck in transition.”

Myungsoo laid back down flat, crossing his arms behind his head. “I think people tend to think you’re either one thing or another. You go to sleep as something and wake up as something else. But nobody ever seems to remember that transitioning stage, where at some point you are both things at once or neither.”

Amber wrapped her arms around herself, “But I don’t think the transition is all the bad. It’s something unique and easily overlooked, maybe even better than either of the two things. ” The pair both nodded in mutual agreement.

A comfortable silence settled around them. The stars twinkled brightly and the only source of light was the soft glow of the street lamps. Myungsoo slowly wrapped his arms around the girl’s frame and Amber rested her head on the boy’s shoulder. Neither of them said anything, but both were thinking the same thing. That maybe they were stuck in transition as well. Not quite just friends, but not in love yet either.

Eventually the two could no longer ward off the inevitable sleep. Both were unwilling to fall asleep and wake up a different person in a different state. No longer in that fleeting stage of transition. The pair slept side by side in their matching superman and batman sleeping bags as the transitioning phase slowly slipped away.

⟶

When they woke, the air hung dense around them thick with chill. The grass was covered in dew and the sky had a grey tinge. Any signs of summer were already lost. Amber’s head had fit right in the curve of Myungsoo’s neck and somehow in the middle of the night, their fingers had intertwined. He turned his head slightly and kissed her forehead. They had woken up in a different season, a different grade, and a different relationship.

“Guess we’re not stuck in transition anymore,” he said softly.

Amber wrapped her arms around his waist taking in his scent. “Guess not.”

the present moment, one-shot, henry/amber

2011-12-09T06:40:49Z

A very different type of fic from me, it started off inspired by IU's You & I music video and kind of morphed into a very different plot. I really like the way it went and it's one of the longest one-shots I've written. I hope it's not too confusing.

Amber tossed the unrelenting gears down on the table. She was currently trying to build a wind up toy car, but it refused to cooperate. Her grandfather could make any toy work; even the most far-fetched idea. It was like he had a magical touch. Amber looked down at her grease-covered hands and sighed. The ‘magical touch’ had clearly not been passed down to her.

She stood from the workshop table and stretched her hands over her head. Yawning, Amber shut off the overhead lamp and made her way over to the bed. She lived in the upstairs, workshop part of the building and below, on the first level, was the toyshop started by her grandfather. Amber’s parents died when she was very young and her grandfather took her in and began to teach her how to build toys.

He held up a small doll, a special one he had made just for Amber. “Amber, remember this one day when you grow older and forget the magic of toys.”
The tiny girl giggled, covering her mouth with her tiny hands. “Will I have grey hair like grandpa?”
“No, I’m afraid you won’t believe again until you get grey hair. When you feel like you are wise you will lose faith. Faith in the happiness that toys bring little children, in the love that a toy maker puts into their toys, in the complex simplicity of a child’s mind.”
She scrunched up her nose, clearly confused. He patted her head and handed her the doll before smiling and walking away.

Amber threw up a small basketball into the air and expected it to fall into her hands again, but it never returned.
“Looking for this?” a voice said behind her.
She didn’t bother to turn around, “Funny, Henry.”
He walked over to the desk and leaned against it, tossing the basketball in his hands. “It’s Sunday, the only day the shop is closed, why aren’t you building?”
She slumped over in her chair, burying her head in her arms on the desk. Her voice was muffled when she said, “I don’t know. It’s like I’ve got toy makers block or something.” She lifted her head slightly and pushed over a pile of half completed toys. “Everything I make turns to crap halfway through.”
“Maybe you just need a break. Take a day off or something. Everyone’s creativity runs out sometimes.”
“I’ll try that, thanks Henry.”
The basketball dropped to the ground and Amber glanced to Henry curiously. His mouth was open in shock. “You’re being nice to me for once?! What’s this? You’re thanking me for something? Someone record this moment in history.”
She whacked his stomach before laughing.

Amber shut the shop’s front door behind Henry. They had eaten junk food and watched movies in an attempt to get Amber’s muse back. Even if it didn’t work, she had fun and it had gotten her mind off of the having to make toys.
She was sweeping the workshop’s floor when her broom knocked over the doll given to her by her grandfather. It rolled underneath the workbench out of reach. She kneeled down onto the floor and reached her hand under. When she didn’t find the doll she laid down on her stomach and looked into the darkness. Amber thought she had spotted it and groped the floor searching for it. Her hand brushed something and she attempted to grasp it. When her hand grabbed it she was shocked by the cold touch. It was metal and felt like a lever to something. Curious, she pulled it.

The desk started to make noise as gears and pulleys shifted places. Amber scrambled to her feet and stood in front of the aged bench. After a few seconds a drawer that was previously invisible popped out of the side. Amber took a few steps closer and peered inside. It was a simple leather bound notebook that, upon closer inspection Amber realized, was stamped with her grandfather’s initials. Carefully she grabbed the notebook from the drawer. Amber hesitantly unwrapped the string closure and opened the book.
'Amber, if you’re reading this I presume you’ve probably come to a time in your life where you’ve finally forgotten the magic. All is not lost, it is still there. You just have to search for it.'

The message puzzled Amber. She flipped through the rest of the pages, but they were blank. She shook the book, checking for any loose pages when an envelope fell out. It landed on the hardwood floor, her grandfather’s large handwriting facing up.
The inside of the envelope simply held a blue piece of paper and when she opened it up it revealed blueprints for something. It looked like a tall box with windows and a door. There was no title to the plans, just a drawing of a clock in the corner.

“I feel like I have to build this, I don’t know what it is or what it does, but I have to.”
“What about the shop? The orders?” Henry was always the sensible one of the pair.
“I have enough in storage to get me through the week and it’s the slowest time of year, there aren’t many orders.”
“And what if this… contraption you build does nothing?”
“It doesn’t matter, I know my grandfather wanted me to build it. He stuck it in a notebook with a message to me and the envelope was labeled ‘Beary’. He’s the only one that called me that.” Her voice got quieter, “I think I have to build this to find that magic again. He warned me that one day I would stop believing, I would lose it until I grew old again or found it myself. I need to find it Henry, I need to.”

For days on end Amber worked tirelessly on the unknown project. She simply followed the instructions and as the booth-like thing came to life before her, she still had no clue what it would do. Henry would keep her company, just silently sit there and grade papers or other things teacher’s aids do.
Soon she reached the final step in the blueprint. But she had no idea what to do. There was simply a small drawing of a part that Amber had never seen in her life before. Frustrated, she threw down her screwdriver.
Henry didn’t even look up from the textbook he was reading. “What is it?”
“I just need this one part, and it will be finished. But I’ve never seen anything like it. It’s a weird set of gears and something sticking out of it. It’s really intricate and I have no idea how to recreate it.”
“Just wait. It will come to you,” he finally looked up, “it always does.”

Amber decided to put her little side project on hold for a while as she caught up with orders that were due for the shop. Halfway through building a train set she realized that she was out of screws. She headed into the back room that held all the extra supplies. For the train set she needed a very specific type of screw and they were in the bin all the way on the top of the shelf. When she stood on the step ladder to reach the container it was not there, but a clock (one she had never seen in the workshop before) took its place.

Stepping down from the ladder, Amber examined the foreign object in her hands. Between the two bells was a small piece of paper rolled up. Inside all that was written was ‘You have to search a little.’

She screwed in the final piece- the inside of the old alarm clock, and had expected something. She expected it to start spinning or lighting up or something. When it did neither of those things or anything else, she was slightly disappointed. Even the doorknob she installed wouldn’t budge.
Amber sighed and sat cross-legged on the floor. She took her wooden doll in her lap and her fingers ran over the beautiful cursive inscription on the back. She whispered it aloud, “Love is the master key that opens the gates of happiness.”
She paused, “He wouldn’t? Was he already leaving me clues?” She slowly stood up and walked over to the contraption. “Could it?”

Amber slowly inserted the legs of her childhood present into the small key hole on the door. She turned the doll and the doorknob at the same time and the door creaked open. She stepped inside the little room, slowly turning around finally seeing the inside of the object she had built. As she almost completed her rotation she noticed a shadow on the wall. It was an outline of a heart created by the light passing through a group of gears.

“It seems like grandpa is leaving me clues everywhere to figure out how to work this thing.” She tapped her lower lip with her thumb, “Heart….”

Amber jokingly asked her grandfather where he kept all his toy making secrets. And he tapped his head, “It’s all in here,”
Then tapped over his heart, “but the way to a man’s secrets is through his heart.”

Amber owned a small heart box, it was ceramic and she had no idea what it was for or when she had even gotten it. She assumed her parents gave it to her when she was too little to remember and before they had died.
“Thanks Grandpa,” she said before smashing the heart onto the table. Amongst the broken pieces there were folded pieces of paper. The handwriting was small and loopy- like a girl’s. It was very different from her grandfather’s, the one she knew so well.

'Dearest Amber,
I regret to say that this is goodbye. Reading this you are probably thinking that it is impossible to say goodbye to someone you had never known. Your father and I would want nothing more in life than to have been able to see you grow up, really see you grow up. Not simply visit the future you, but go through all the times you’ve cried, nurse every injury, sit up with you while you worked on school projects, see you on your wedding day and actually know the man you’re marrying and know the exact day you met and when you got engaged. We would want to experience all the things normal parents experience with their little girls.
            I shall try to explain to you everything as best as I can. Your father was an amazing toy maker, possibly better than your grandfather. But he didn’t want to just make toys- he wanted to make things that would change human kind. For years he had been working on something, a project that he wouldn’t let me or even your grandfather see. It turns out that he was able to successfully build a time machine. He began to travel forwards and backwards into time. He became obsessed with it. He would tell me all the things he saw and things that would happen in the future. He even visited you later on in your life. He knew more about the grown up you then the present you.
            What your grandfather and I didn’t know was the effect traveling time had on a person. You become disoriented if you don’t pay close attention. Trips in close succession could potentially confuse you. You lost track of what current time even was.
            Your father from a trip and seemed extremely distraught. He would not stop repeating ‘I have to go back. I have to fix it.’ One day he actually went back. There was one thing your dad made sure never to do- return to the same day in time twice. At that time he was slowly losing his mind from the constant traveling and I knew I’d have to go in after him. I’m writing this as I prepare to leave, because I know your father is planning to do something that could possibly alter time in some way.
I told your grandfather that I would go after him- try to bring him back. Deep down I knew that if I went wherever he went there was a very slim chance I would come back, let alone bring him back with me. I gave specific instructions to destroy the machine if I didn’t return in 48 hours. But, I told him to set up a series of clues for you to find when you grew older along with the blueprints for the very machine that took us away from you. If there is someone that could recreate this machine, it would be you. I figured you deserved the chance to see your parents. Before I tell you the date of our current timeline, I want you to understand the risks. You may not come back to the present. You may leave behind whomever you love and you could possibly regret it for the rest of your life.
            It is a hard decision, but it is your decision nonetheless. Remember, above all things, we loved you and we do love you- wherever we may be.'

Henry folded up the letter after finishing reading it. “You don’t have to go you know?”
“I know,” Amber sat completely still, something very rare because she is always moving or doing something with her hands. “But I want to. I want to see my parents and know why they disappeared on this specific date in time. I think I’ll finally get answers.”
He stood outside the door of the time machine as Amber stepped inside. He grabbed her shoulders and forced her to look at him.
“Promise me you’ll come back. No matter what you see.”
She stared at his eyes and the words of her mother replayed in her mind. You may leave behind whomever you love. And you could possibly regret it for the rest of your life.
Amber stood on her tiptoes and kissed him slowly on the mouth. He responded by wrapping his arms around her back. A few seconds later she pulled back and whispered, “I promise.”

Inside the time machine Amber turned the dials until they read the date specified in her mom’s letter. Pulling down the lever, the machine began to feel like it was spinning. It slowly gained speed and a blinding light began to enter the booth. After what felt like an eternity, the booth stopped. Slowly she regained her balance and orientation and she then reached for the door.
She stepped out into a bright day, about mid afternoon. She was still in Korea, she recognized the street that was between her school and the shop. Amber walked along the sidewalk enjoying the warm spring air. Suddenly Amber spotted a younger version of herself across the street wearing a school uniform walking home to the shop. She couldn’t remember exactly what day it was; it was just a normal day in high school. She also noticed a couple strolling behind the girl lost in her own world with earphones in her ear. She quickly recognized them as her parents from the pictures hanging in the shop. The walked slowly, arms linked like there was no care in the world. Amber stopped and watched as a truck ran a red light and the girl, oblivious, started to cross the street. The man, her father, lunged forward and pulled young Amber back onto the curb. She suddenly remembered this day, she hadn’t thought about it much when it had happened, but someone saved her life that day and it was her parents.

The girl quickly thanked the man and woman before continuing her walk. The young couple seemed to have old souls as they looked at each other and slowly smiled. They linked arms once again and turned around, walking back in the direction they had just came from.

“Mom? Dad?” Amber said hesitantly as she stopped the couple. The two only smiled at her, no evidence of shock or surprise on their faces at all.
“You finally came,” said her mother. Amber studied their faces. Her mother was pretty. She was much shorter than her father and her hair was cut in a stylish bob. Her facial features were small and dainty. Shifting her gaze to her father, there was only one word Amber would use to describe him- handsome.
After a while she finally spoke, “You went back. To save me?”
Her dad nodded. His deep voice spoke, “I had become obsessed with visiting you in the future. I saw your first steps, words, and day of school before it even happened in present time. I even witnessed what was supposed to be your death. It tortured me, I couldn’t just sit back and watch you be killed in an accident like that. I knew I could prevent it; I just had to go back and save you. Your mother came after me but I refused to let her take me back before saving you. As you can see, we succeeded. But we didn’t think of the consequences. We had altered someone’s timeline drastically, to make up for it our timeline changed. We can travel to any time period, forwards or backwards but we cannot travel to whatever is present time. Essentially- we are dead in present time, but we live in the past and the future. Our timeline is no longer chronological.”
Her mother cut in, reaching for her husband’s elbow. “We don’t regret any of it. We did what any other parent would do. We feel like we’ve still seen you grow up- your graduation, wedding, and birth of your first child. Because our timeline was altered we were able to visit all of the future events and things that had already happened to you. We just could never visit the present you- the you that would actually be able to experience seeing us.”
Amber’s eyes welled up with tears that slowly overflowed. Her parents slowly embraced her and they stood as a mother and father meeting their child for the first time. “You were always so close, yet far away,” she said hoarsely.

Amber stepped down out of the machine and returned to the quiet workshop. Henry was sitting in a chair sleeping. She gently shook him. When he woke up he seemed relieved to see her.
“Help me destroy this?”

She stood beside her groom clad in a delicate white dress. Henry took her shaking hand in his as they faced the priest. Her heart beat loudly as they recited their vows to one another. Amber quickly glanced into the guests and spotted near the back a familiar couple. The stood out amongst the rest of the crowd in their casual light winter coats. The coats she had seen them in last time and a few other times she spotted them. She shot them a smile like she did every time she saw them.
“You may now kiss the bride.”

From time to time she thought about her parents, drifting off in a confusing whirlwind of time. Amber soon realized that the distinction between past, present and future is only an illusion. People have always assumed that time is something so linear and set. But it is actually quite the opposite. Time is relative. One person’s past is another’s future. The best we can do is live our lives accepting, not trying to figure out the rest of our and everyone else’s timelines- we’re not meant to know what happens to us.

to the west coast; one-shot henry/amber

2011-11-26T04:10:33Z

“It’s so boring here,” Amber sighed into the phone. She was currently lounging on her couch with one leg propped up over the back and her free hand controlled the tv remote. Her ankle was now fully recovered, but SM hadn’t exactly asked her to come back yet. The capability to do things, but nothing to do, drove her crazy.

“Things aren’t exactly busy around here for me either,” she heard Henry’s sleepy reply back. It was nearing one am in Korea. The massive time difference only made Amber feel farther and more disconnected.

“I wish I could just go back already and we could be bored together, in person,” she said although she knew she was never really bored when hanging out with her best friend.

“I’m sorry, Amber, but I have to go. We’ll talk again tomorrow?” He questioned with a yawn.
“Oh,” she tried to mask the disappointment in her voice. “Yeah, okay. Night Henry.”

Henry hung up and dropped the phone on his bed. Their conversation ran over and over in his head for a little while. He felt bad for her, being stuck in California while her group promotes without her. He knew she said it was alright, but it would bother anybody. He wished he could just find a way to cheer her up. He sat up suddenly when he thought of an idea. He remembered something Amber told him years ago when they were still trainees. He got out of bed and pulled out a suitcase.
“It’s not like we’re promoting or anything,” he convinced himself while throwing clothes into the bag.

⟶

Amber’s eyes forced open when she heard the doorbell rang. Groaning she rolled out of bed and walked slowly to the door. The person at the door began to press the bell continuously.
“Aish, I’m coming!” She yelled. When she finally reached the door she was shocked at who she saw standing on her doorstep.
“H-Henry? What are you doing here?”
He just smiled, “Aren’t you going to let me in?”
She stepped back a bit, “Oh, of course.” She directed him to put his bags down and to sit on the couch.
“Do you want anything to drink? Did you just get in? Why are you here anyway? Does your manager know?” She bombarded him with curious questions.
He laughed before answering, “Coke, yes, to visit you of course, and not yet.”
She tossed a can of coke at him before sitting down next to him on the couch.
“Seriously though, why did you come all the way here without any notice to visit me? Won’t your manager throw a fit?”
He opened the can and took a long swig. He set the now empty can on the table. That always was one of the talents Amber marveled.
“I left him a note. And a guy can’t just visit his best friend when he wants to?”
Amber just raised an eyebrow, “Not when said best friend is on the other side of the world and he’s a part of a controlling recording label.”
“Okay, there’s something I really wanted to do with you. It’s something you told me was on your bucket list, something you’ve never been able to do.”
“And what is that?” she said hiding a smile.
“Road trip.”

⟶

Amber giggled as she put her feet up onto the dashboard. She plugged in her ipod and played the road trip playlist she made years ago when she held the hope that one day she would hop into a car with someone and drive away and they rolled the windows down. It took them only an hour to get Amber’s stuff packed, the car stocked with enough snack food, and to say goodbye to her parents. They brought a map, but didn’t intend on using it. They would just drive.

Amber stuck her hand out of the window and spread her fingers out. She glanced over to Henry who was driving for the first leg.
“I love the feeling of driving with the ac on and the windows down. It’s like an oxymoron for you body.”
“You’re so weird,” he snickered.
She brushed off the comment, “Thanks for doing this. I’m happy.”
Without warning Henry started singing while drumming on the steering wheel, “You’ve got a fast car. But is it fast enough so we can fly away?”
“We gotta make a decision, we leave tonight or live and die this way.”

⟶

The pair sat in one of the booths towards the back of the diner. They sat next to the wide windows that over looked the highway. The lights from inside the diner poured out onto the dark road outside.

Henry took one of his fries and dipped it into Amber’s chocolate shake. She didn’t protest, but stole five off of his plate in return.

“I still can’t believe that I’m here, doing this with you. It’s like I ran away. I can’t say I regret it though,” he mused while popping the ice cream covered fry into his mouth.

“I still can’t believe you did all of this for me,” it came out before she could stop it. The freedom of being on the road together doing whatever they wanted freed up her mouth too apparently. She promptly stuffed her mouth with a handful of fries.
Henry didn’t bother to deny it; didn’t bother to respond with one of his classic cuts to her. Because he couldn’t believe he was doing all this for her either.

⟶

The car drove smoothly across the iconic red bridge. They were amongst the hundreds of other cars that were all going someplace. Henry and amber were just going.
“I don’t want this to end,” she whispered into her arms that her head was resting on against the window.
He took his eyes off the road to look at her. Right now would be perfect timing, to tell her that this didn’t have to end. “We have to get off the bridge sometime,” he said giving a sad smile.

Once crossing the bridge they pulled into the visitor center. The store was full of souvenirs: models of the bridge, t-shirts that said ‘I ❤ SF”, and even umbrellas with cartoon icons of San Francisco. Amber wandered over to a shelf that held various snow globes. She picked one up and tipped it over. The snow fell around the bridge and it was an odd scene considering it hardly snowed in the area. For some reason she really wanted it. It would remind her years later of the spontaneous trip she took with her best friend when she was feeling down. The snow would remind her of Henry in California, rare and fleeting.
Henry stood by the rotating rack of key chains. He gently spun it around when one spotted his attention. It was a simple keychain that showed the Golden Gate bridge, but underneath spelled out the name ‘Amber’. He wanted to buy it, not for her but for himself. A way of saying to everyone and himself, ‘I went to California with Amber’. It was like he was staking a small claim that she belonged to him.

⟶

They collapsed the back row of chairs and lay on top of a blanket side-by-side looking out the skylight in the roof of the car. Their feet stuck out slightly of the open trunk door. The stars were bright in the cloudless night sky and they both knew it would be their last night on their adventure. Amber had to get home sometime and Henry’s manager called more frequently. They had driven all the way up the state and back down; it was only a matter of time before they reached her house again.

Neither of them said anything, they didn’t want pointless conversation or words to be said. They just wanted to soak up the moment, absorb every second of it, every feeling.
Henry’s hand fell inches away from Amber’s and the static seemed to fill the air in small distance. His pinky reached out slightly and she wrapped hers around his.
It was like they were promising never to let go, never to forget each other or forget this trip. It said everything either of them couldn’t find the words to say.

-
inspired by west coast by coconut records and my au meme graphic
haven't written henber in a while and there seems to be an explosion of them lately. i really, really like this fic

oblivious; one-shot minho/amber

2011-11-09T03:54:25Z

There were moments between them that everyone around them could sense. Everyone could tell that during that split second moment, they were more than friends. But Minho and Amber were simply oblivious.

They were the smallest of things that you’d hardly notice, but their bandmates shared these knowing looks and when either party questioned the strange actions of their friends, they merely shrugged their shoulders and smiled when they looked away.
It started when Minho came home one day wearing a new hat. It was black and donned the LA Dodgers logo.
“New hat?” questioned Key, the only one that could comment on subtle fashion changes without suspicion.
Minho nodded slightly even though they had all seen Amber wearing that exact hat last week.

∞

Amber tried her best to stifle her giggles into her pillow. It was all in vain because her roommates woke up prompting Krystal to throw one of her stuffed animals at her and Victoria to shush her.
“What are you laughing at anyway at one o’clock in the morning?” Asked Sulli groggily.
“I thought I told you not to watch the new skins episode without me!” accused Krystal.
Amber let another set of laughs out before answering, “No, it’s just Minho just texted something funny.” She laughed a little more as she replied to the message and the other girls looked at each other through the dark. Luna nudged Sulli and whispered, “Do you think he likes her?” Sulli nodded without hesitation causing Luna to let out a squeal rivaling one of their fans. Victoria shushed them again, but smiled anyway.

∞

The pair sat together on the couch in the dressing room. They were watching some basketball game on Minho’s computer. They both leaned in closely to the screen following the players back and forth. They were so engrossed they didn’t even notice how close their faces were together.
The other members were scattered throughout the room. Whoops and yelling erupted from the two on the couch and as they high fived each other, the observing members migrated together. They formed this semi circle around the make-up table. Whispers went back on forth where each member shared stories that happened in their dorm. Their suspicions were confirmed and another round of cheers could be heard from the other side of the room.

∞

The observers decided to gather concrete evidence of the mutual feelings. One the plane to New Yor they deliberately left one seat open next to Taemin and one next to Krystal. Upon entering the plane Minho quickly scanned the seating options and instead chose an empty pair of seats two rows before the rest of his members. Amber boarded shortly after and instantly sat down next to Minho without even considering the seat next to Krystal. Krystal leaned forward twisted around in her seat to face Victoria, Luna, and Sulli. They giggled like school girls. The row across from them was filled with chuckles and ‘Get it, Minho’s.

∞

The crowds were screaming and confetti flew everywhere. Around them SM idols jumped around stage and sang their ending song whilst everyone hugged or exchanged other interactions of friendship. Amber leaned in to say something to Minho. When he didn’t hear her the first time she moved closer to say it into his ear. His hand rested on her waist pulling her in a little closer. The members of f(x) and SHINee secretly discussed how natural it was and how his hand lingered a little longer than necessary.
“Just go out already!” Victoria yelled, but only loud enough for the members around her to hear. Her outburst surprised them, but they all nodded in agreement.
“These two are denser than… than whatever is really dense!” stated Luna.
“You mean you, Luna?” offered Krystal with an innocent look on her face.

∞

They sat on the floor of their hotel room after the concert and ate popcorn and pizza while watching an American romance movie that happened to be on tv. No one knew what was going on except Amber and Krystal but they didn’t bother to find anything else to occupy their time.
During a commercial break Sulli blurted out of nowhere when she grabbed another handful of popcorn, “You know, Minho likes you, Amber.”
This caused Amber to choke slightly on her coke. “W-what? Where did you hear that from?”
“We didn’t hear it anywhere, we saw it. It’s really obvious to pretty much, everyone. The rest of SHINee notices it too.”
Amber opened her mouth a couple of times but no words came out. After while she recovered her speech and asked softly, “Do you really think so?”
The four other girls groaned in unison. “We know so,” said Victoria exasperated.
“You should talk to him, or kiss him. You know, whatever works faster,” stated the maknae with a straight face.
Amber blushed and couldn’t hide it. Soon, the girls that were practically her sisters dragged her to her feet and pushed her out the door.
“They’re in room 1308!” yelled Luna before shutting the door, locking Amber out. She knew they wouldn’t let her in until she marched over there. Her feet were heavy and she suddenly wished she hadn’t eaten that third piece of pepperoni pizza.
Her knuckles rapped lightly on the door and she was greeted by the smiling maknae.
“You must be looking for Minho, right?” He called out for Minho before she could even confirm.
“Oh, hey, Amber,” he smiled and Amber wished they had never put those silly thoughts into her head. Because now she was suddenly fantasizing what it would be like to wake up and have him smile like that at her every day. Embarrassed at her thoughts, she ran her hand through her limp bangs that were void of any hair spray.
“Could we go someplace?” she muttered awkwardly.
“Of course,” he smiled again and caused Amber’s knees to tremble a little. He walked over to the elevator and pressed the down button.
“I hear there’s a really good ice cream shop in the lobby with an especially great chocolate flavor.” She smiled; he remembered her favorite ice cream flavor.
“Let’s hope the vanilla is just as good,” she pushed him playfully like she had a million times before, but she felt strange this time.

“Hey! Vanilla is just as good a flavor as chocolate,” he followed her into the elevator, “at least it’s better than those ridiculous flavors like coconut or cotton candy.” He cringed at the thought. Minho was a purist, especially when it came to ice cream.
Amber laughed slightly covering her mouth with her hand while nodding in agreement and Minho couldn’t help but notice how girly the action was. Did she always do that? He wondered. He never really thought that Amber did anything all that girly, but upon reviewing his memory, she did it all the time she laughed.
The doors opened on the sixth level and a group of SNSD and Super Junior sunbaes boarded the elevator causing Minho having to scoot closer to Amber. She was pressed into his side and it shocked him how nicely she fit next to him. Two more Super Junior members rushed onto the already squished elevator. Minho maneuvered his arm to wrap around Amber’s shoulders to make more room. His had rested on her waist and he suddenly noticed how his hand fit perfectly into the curve of her waist. He hadn’t thought about it when he did the same action hours earlier. It was surprisingly comfortable and he could smell her vanilla shampoo. Amber looked up at him and smiled, Minho grinned back. When the elevator reached their floor, the pair walked off of the elevator in the same position continuing their debate about ice cream flavors.

One of the girls immediately sent a picture to the leader of f(x) and they all giggled to each other. “I think Minho likes her!” The boys whistled and yelled, “Get it, Amber!”

another minber fic in such a close distance, i need to write some other pairings haha! well, this was mostly inspired by that fancam of SMTOWN NYC ending. *____*

Flip you for it; one-shot, minho/amber

2011-10-29T06:15:26Z

Minho preferred to leave things up to chance. If he let the universe make decisions for him, there could be no complaining or blaming himself. He believed that all things happened because something, or someone, bigger than us all willed it. His latest obsession was tossing a coin. Choosing between two restaurants? Flip a coin. Choosing to bet on a soccer team? Flip a coin. Choosing which college to go to? Flip a coin. It was a fifty-fifty probability; pure chance and somehow this comforted Minho. Amber reasoned he was just too afraid to make any decisions for himself.

∞

The pair lay down on their backs of the asphalt with their chests heaving. They sipped their water bottles with minimal spilling, a talent perfected over years of rigorous sports.
“You know what I want?” The blonde girl said aloud to the sky.
“Ice cream.” The boy answered without an ounce of hesitation.
Amber laughed a short laugh and looked at the figure beside her out of the side of her eyes. “How’d you know?”
“Because you always want ice cream.”
She got to her feet and held out her hands to help pull him up. “True.”
Minho latched on her hands but no effort to pull himself up. Amber rolled her eyes, but smiled as she exerted almost all her strength to haul him to his feet.
“I think you need to lay off the ice cream,” she said while they walked to the convenience store by the park that they frequented.
He grabbed one of her hands and tapped it against his stomach. Through the slightly damp t-shirt she could feel the outline of his abs. He laughed and said, “Who needs to lay off the ice cream?”
She quickly retracted her hand like it burned her and tried to brush off the incident. “So?”
“So?” He mimicked back. “You’re trying to say that girls don’t care about abs like these?”
She laughed loudly before replying, “No.” Lies, she thought, girls care a lot about abs like those and maybe I do too. The realization scared Amber.
“Please, all the girls in SM say I have the best abs in all of k-pop.”
She was surprised to find jealous as one of the words she would use to describe what she was feeling and was thankful that they reached their destination and decided to opt out from answering.

Upon entering the small store they went straight to the all too familiar freezer section. They both always got the same thing, a chocolate ice cream bar. Two hands reached out for the same package. Amber pulled back first planning on going on to the next bar, she frowned when there was no next one.
“I’ll flip you for it. Heads I get it, tails you get it.”
He had already pulled out the silver coin from his pocket before she could answer. He flicked it with his thumb and it flipped through the air continuously until it reached its peak and started to fall. He caught it swiftly and placed it flat against the back of his other hand. He peaked at it slightly and sighed as he passed over the ice cream bar.
Amber took it gladly, but when she leaned over a bit she could clearly make out the heads side sticking up.

∞

It had been weeks since the incident with the ice cream and the last time she had seen Minho. The more time Amber spent time away from him, the more aware she became of how much she missed hanging out. But what really scared her was how blatantly obvious it was to her how much she missed him. She was falling in love with her best friend and she couldn’t stop it. She didn’t want to stop it.
She knew she would have to do something about it; she couldn’t keep going on and pretending like there was nothing more. She sharply took in a deep breath and squeezed her eyes shut hoping to gather up any sort of strength to go and walk straight to his apartment door and knock. But her legs stayed glued to the rung on the kitchen stool where she sat.
Amber grabbed a silver coin from the small dish on the counter without thinking and threw it up in the air. Catching it like Minho the hundreds of times she’d seen him do it, she slapped it down on the counter.
“Heads I tell him, tails I don’t,” she whispered.

∞

There was a sharp knock on the door of their apartment. No one made an effort to go to the door. They all looked at each other pressuring the other to get up.
“You’re closest, Minho,” said the always logical leader.
Letting out a loud sigh, Minho stood from the couch where he had been watching a soccer match and went to open the door. He was stunned a little to see Amber standing at the door. She never knocked, just walked right in.
“A-amber, what are you doing here?”
She smiled a little and kind of bit her lip. She looks cute. He blinked. Cute? This is Amber, his best friend that he played basketball with and ate ice cream and shared sneakers with. She was definitely not cute.
“Um, could I talk to you? A bit? Outside?” Her broken Korean began to spew out in fragmented pacing.
“Uh, yeah of course.” He stepped out of the door frame and shut the door behind him. They walked together outside of the building. She stopped and faced him.
“I really don’t know how to say this and I guess when I decided to come here I didn’t exactly think about what I was going to say. I had only worked up the nerve to get out of the door.” She glanced down at her feet. “But what I guess I’m trying to say is that I realized I like you, Minho. As more than a friend.” She quickly looked up before looking away.
He cleared his throat slightly covering his shock. “When did you realize this?” he asked softly.
She grinned a little sadly at this, “I can’t really pinpoint it to one specific moment. Perhaps I’ve liked you for a really long time. And when you gave me that ice cream bar even though I know you flipped heads.”
His eyes widened a little. She wasn’t supposed to know that.
“And these past few weeks I found myself missing you. Before I used to think I just missed us hanging out and the time we spent together. And this was the first time I realized that it was actually you I was missing.”
Minho rubbed the back of his neck as her last words floated off into the breeze that tugged at the hem of her loose t-shirt.
“I don’t know Amber, we’re friends. You’re my best friend and I don’t know if it’s worth screwing that up.”
She held up her hand that had been clenched the entire time, which he didn’t notice until now. She opened it up facing her palm to the starry sky. A shiny object glinted in the light of the moon.
“Flip me for it.”
“What?”
“Heads we try to find out if there’s more to this relationship and possibly risk what we already have; tails we go on like this never happened.”
It was a crazy thing, basing their entire relationship on a toss of a coin. But Minho liked crazy and he grabbed the coin anyway. He threw it up like he had so many times before when he needed guidance. This time it seemed its descent into his waiting hand was even slower than normal. Amber’s eyes were following the path of the coin and Minho reached up and grabbed it prematurely. Her slightly shocked eyes moved over to him.
Using the hand that held the coin, he grasped Amber’s cheek and pulled it closer to him before kissing her. After years of flipping coins he finally understood why he flipped coins at all. It made him choose; not because of the result of which side had showed up, but because in that moment when the coin slowly falls, he knew what side he was hoping for.

-
I don't know why I like this pairing so much, but I do and I decided to write a fic for them. I still love henber to death though. And this was inspired mostly by this. I've been playing around with the idea of this for months when I saw that picture, and I've finally found the time and muse to write this. so feedback/comments/love is appreciated :3 /long authors note

Among Thieves; 2/? Amber/Henry

2011-08-28T01:42:12Z

▬ ♦ ▬

Amber had only heard Henry refer to one of his houses as ‘home’ and it wasn’t the mansion in England, vacation home in Japan, or pent house apartment in New York. Only when they had walked into the modest (to Henry’s standards) home in Korea did he say, “We’re home.” It was the place they had first met, when Henry caught Amber trying to steal one of his Rembrandt’s. Henry, a lonely rich teenager, begged Amber to let him into her family’s ‘society of thieves’ as he called it. The fact that he didn’t call the police on her was the biggest determining factor in her decision. Now, it was as if he was always a part of the family.

“Ajusshi, could you have dinner ready in a few hours,” Henry addressed his butler that he treated more like a friend, “I’m sure Amber is hungry.” Amber had to admit she was hungry, but she was always up for eating. Amber plopped down on one of the plush couches in his living room.
“So,” she pulled one of the pillows onto her lap and began to play with the fringe that lined the edges, “are you going to tell me why you brought me here? Did my dad put you up to this? ”
Henry sat in the chair across from her. “After we eat Amber, as Uncle Yoonsung always said ‘meals first, heists later’. Or something like that.” This drew out a short laugh from Amber. Her uncle had never once said that.
“And besides your dad hasn’t called me since Shanghai.” He grimaced at the memory. “I think he’s still a tad bit mad.”
“Well, he’s not the only one.”
“Hey, we all agreed that duck seemed potty trained at the time.”

After dinner Amber and Henry sat at the end of one long dining room after the dishes were cleared. Amber thought that the table felt lonely. Henry was the only one that really lived in the house, she had never once met his parents, and the table was never used for parties bigger than three. The fact that everywhere he went felt lonely because of his parent’s absence might explain why he loved to spend so much time with the Lius. Henry broke the silence by clearing his throat slightly.
“I was never one good at delivering news, so I’m just going to give you the message from Uncle Yoonsung. He says he’s got to give them back.”
“Uncle Yoonsung has to give what back?”
“No, that’s the message ‘he’s got to give them back’. Your dad pulled a job in Hong Kong last week.”
“My dad pulls jobs all the time.”
“Yes but this one was different. It was a private collection, but it’s more of the collector that’s concerning. The man, Zhou Mi, is a bad guy.”
“Henry, we’ve dealt with many bad guys before, my dad even more.”
“This guy isn’t a bad guy not like Uncle Yoonsung’s a bad guy or I’m a bad guy— he’s the bad guy. Zhou is the head of the Chinese organized crime. He’s issued a bounty for anyone that brings back the man who stole his collection- dead or alive, as long as the paintings come with him. Not many crews in the world could have pulled this off. Two maybe three tops.”
Amber seemed completely emotionless throughout this whole thing. “And my dad, he’s on the top of the list?”
Henry seemed to stiffen at this. “Your dad is the list, Amber.” She began to shake her head and Henry added softly, “There’s no one else that could have pulled off this job like this.”
Amber pretended to be fascinated with the exquisite details of the wood table, but was hardly fascinated at all. She was already making plans to see her father immediately.
“I’m going to head to bed, Am. You know what room you always sleep in.” He stood up and before he walked away he said jokingly, “Now don’t run away in the middle of the night again.”

▬ ♦ ▬

As much as Amber didn’t want to run away like Henry told her not to, she still found herself sneaking out of the house begging Hangeng, his butler, not to tell him where she went.
“I won’t,” he said and silently handed her a round trip ticket to Tokyo.

Donghae Liu may be one of the world’s greatest thieves, but Amber knew her father and that was enough for her to find him. Her parents had taken her to Tokyo when she was five, at the time she didn’t know it, but they were really casing the Tokyo Metropolitan Museum. Her father promised to buy her a new soccer ball if she screamed until the guards came to her.

She stepped out onto the busy streets of the bustling city. It was filled with people who were rushing to get to work and tourists who walked way too slowly for the commuters. That’s when she spotted him. He walked a little slower than the rushing business men and a little faster than the amazed tourists; it was the perfect pace to get by unnoticed. He was dressed in a long black coat and wore sunglasses even though the cloudy fall skies almost stopped the sun from shining through. Amber stopped at her favorite little café and bought a black coffee and a muffin.
She walked right up to him and said nothing. She stood beside him as they both pretended to pay attention to the tour guide who was speaking in English. There was no hello or welcoming phrase, he simply took the cup of coffee and wrapped his gloveless hands around the steaming cup.
“I know Whitman is a good school sweetie,” he grinned into his cup as he took a sip, “but isn’t Tokyo a little far for a field trip?”
“Fall break,” she answered with ease. Somehow it was easier to lie to her father than tell the real story to her headmaster.
“Who told you? Was it Henry?” he shook his head slightly. “I still haven’t forgiven him for the Shanghai incident.”
“We all agreed the duck seemed potty trained at the time,” she repeated what Henry had said earlier. Amber scanned the crowd of people around them. Middle aged women stole glances at her father and grinned to themselves. Teenage girls in groups giggled to each other as they awkwardly stared at him. But only one woman watched him openly. Maybe she was confident in her long, straight black hair and pretty eyes or maybe she was watching for something else.
“You know it’s really disturbing to see other people check out your dad,” he only chuckled slightly.
“Who’s your friend over there? Tokyo police?”
“Interpol, actually.”
“Nice,” she said with absolutely no enthusiasm in her voice. “Dad, Zhou Mi called, he wants his paintings back.” The tone of his daughter’s voice, a mix of fear, threatening, joking, and mostly urgency, caused him to look at her face for the first time since their conversation started.
“I do not have his paintings, Amber.”
“And why should I believe you? Why should he believe you?” She was pleading with him.
“I was a little busy here when Zhou’s precious paintings were stolen.” Amber’s eyes traveled to the Japanese newspapers and read the headlines.
“So you couldn’t have stolen a private collection in Hong Kong because you robbed a small gallery here in Tokyo.”
“As you can see I have an airtight alibi,” his air of confidence came back.
“Zhou Mi doesn’t care about ‘airtight alibis, Dad. He just wants his paintings back and he’s serious!” She lowered her voice, “He’s issued a 5 million dollar bounty on your head and his paintings.”
“Don’t worry yourself too much, kid. Once he does a little digging he’ll realize that I don’t have his paintings and he’ll move his search and 5 million dollars to someone else.”
“I really don’t think—” Amber was about to protest when her dad cut her off.
“It’s fine, Amber. Just go back to school and forget this ever happened.” Maybe he was right, Zhou would figure out that it was impossible for her dad to have those paintings and he would move on.
“Do I need to write a note to your school?” He asked clearly thinking he had convinced Amber to give up the fight.
“Already faxed from your New York office.”
He smiled, “That’s my girl. Now when is your next vacation? Winter break? I was thinking we could go to Madrid.”
“Madrid sounds nice,” she wasn’t sure if she was keeping up the lie because she didn’t want her dad to know that the biggest con she pulled yet had fallen through or not. “Now before you leave I need you to do me a favor.”

Amber pulled off the role as a frazzled American tourist quite well. She approached a pair of cops that were sitting in front of the café. “T-those men over there he tried to…” she trailed off while pointing to a pair of plain clothed Interpol officers that had been trailing her dad for days.
“They what?” one of them asked in accented English. She leaned in and whispered something in his ear. Seconds later they were off shouting after the two men telling them to stop.

Amber didn’t even have to look; she knew her father was gone. Disappeared into the rest of the crowd who had no idea they were walking along side one of the world famous Lius. Determined to get back to Korea before Henry noticed she was missing or worried too much she began her walk to the airport.
“Miss Amber.” There were very few people that called her Miss Amber, Uncle Yoonsung being one. But the man’s voice was nothing like her Uncle’s. It was deeper, raspier, and sent chills down her spine.

The formatting refuses to cooperate sorry!