paradox

Requests Anyone?

wintercreamed — Tue, 05 Feb 2013 06:03:19 GMT

REQUEST AWAY

I'll write them when I'm offline ~~(because I'm currently on hiatus and afsdfdfadss)~~
You know, leave me a prompt, a pairing, a picture, a quote, song lyrics, or whatever you wish for me to work on. I'll try my best to deliver. No assurance yet when, but we'll see. It's for one-shots by the way.

+

wintercreamed — Tue, 09 Oct 2012 06:28:57 GMT

♥

MOVED → cleonsyk

(Old fics are open: new ones at sutekimizu)

New Writing Community!

wintercreamed — Tue, 05 Jun 2012 10:50:54 GMT

I realized now that this journal is kind of a little messy with all the fics and the personal entries and all that stuff just piled here and there. We have writing community now, me and valerietastic! From now on, I'll be posting my fics at

sutekimizu

So that this will be my personal journal, where I will rant out my feels and you can read my stuff at the community. Keeping the rest of my old fics here though because it's too tiring to do transfers and all that. :)) Hope to see you guys there too! :D

Rec List.

wintercreamed — Sat, 26 May 2012 10:41:34 GMT

FAVORITE FICS.
because i read and can't forget feels.
ლ(́◉౪◉‵ლ)

non-het; EXO

Migratory Patterns - chiharu

Luhan-centric ; general

hello baby! featuring exo-k astrou
EXO-K; crack

Absolute Chanyeol - leadernim
Baekhyun/Chanyeol; drama

apples and oranges - alaeaureae
Chen-centric; general

The Me of the Next Page (2/2) - halcyondusk
Kris-centric, ninja!Kris/Amber; general, drama

Stranger in a Strange Land - chiharu
Chen-centric, exo-m; general

non-het; snsd/f(x)

skeletons in her closet - saracupcaked
Krystal/Jessica; general

het; dbsk pairs

(you) lied even while you held me - aoza
Changmin/Yoona; angst

The Game of Love - bollywoodrecord
Changmin/Seohyun, Changmin/Yoona, Kyuhyun/Seohyun ; angst

coffee, cream and books - jumons
Changmin/Yoona; romance

perfection - silentlybelieve
Changmin/Yoona; romance

dead language - amoreuxes
Jaejoong/Jessica; angst

take me to paradise - douc
Jaejoong/Nana ; angst

Dear Yunho. - kurdoodle
Yunho/Boa ; romance

het; shinee pairs

but you should know upfront - soulfreeze
Minho/Krytal, Minho/Yuri; angst

Changing Colors - bollywoodrecord
Minho/Krystal ; romance

chasing pavements - withoutchange
Onew/Krystal, Jonghyun/Jessica; romance

The Two of Us Together - onceuponataem
Taemin/Sulli; romance

Home, Sweet Home - douc
Taemin/Sulli, Minho/Krystal; romance

if you love me let me know - avages
Taemin/Sulli; romance

het; B1A4 pairs

sparks, angels and calenddars - mekimigure
Gongchan/Krystal; angst

het; infinite pairs

perhaps they never will - mylika
Myungsoo/Krystal; angst

till death do us apart - kirakirashahida
Hoya/Bomi ; angst

Real Monsters Leave Love Bites - skullchi
Woohyun/Hyomin; romance

asphalt grey - happymint
Sunggyu/Hyomin; angst

The Lonely Road - bollywoodrecord
Sungyeol/Krystal, Myungsoo/Krystal; angst

and then something strawberry filled up the sky - uljima
Myungso/Suzy ; romance

your eyes are painted all sinatra blue - kisoap
Myungsoo/Suzy ; angst

draw fiction on the wall - douc
Myungsoo/Suzy ; romance

het; exo pairs

To Notice a Glance - falsefallacy
Kris/Tiffany; angst

does the elephant have a name? - happymint
Luhan/Nana; angst

let's go for a drive -kirakirashahida
Luhan/Nana ; fluff

Of summer camp and first love - sooriforever
Luhan/Nana ; fluff

spring of a twenty one year old - michaelchang
Baekhyun/IU; angst

make me out of clay - michaelchang
Baekhyun/IU ; romance, fluff

don't listen to what your heart tells you - nileyna
Kai/Sulli; angst

Overtime - kurdoodle
Kai/Krystal; romance

one out of seven billion - kirakirashahida
Kai/Krystal ; romance

another time, another place - kirakirashahida
Kai/Krystal ; angst

het; mblaq pairs

no more wonderland - hypothermal
Seungho/Soyeon; romance

seungho/soyeon; we got married - firequakes
Seungho/Soyeon; romance

het; u-kiss pairs

the act of actually caring - kisoap
Jaeseop/Jiyeon; romance

contagio(us) - kisoap
Kiseop/Seungah ; romance

het; b.a.p pairs

all these thoughts in my head, they all involve you - hwanjin
Himchan/Sunhwa; romance

het; super junior pairs

daydream nation - withoutchange
Donghae/Sunye; romance

rationally speaking - hypothermal
Donghae/Jessica; romance

To follow the rules - valerietastic
Donghae/Jessica; angst

(out of) love - aoza
Donghae/Jessica; angst

Between Pages - aoza
Kyuhyun/Seohyun; Fluff

They Were All Good - sooriforever
Siwon/Sooyoung; fluff

How long must I love you?

wintercreamed — Fri, 25 May 2012 12:39:00 GMT

Title: How long must I love you?
Pairing: Sehun/Krystal, Kai/Krystal, Minho/Krystal
Genre: Romance/Angst; 2,276 w~
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Do you reckon this will all matter tomorrow or ten years from now?
► Because I need a goodbye post, okay lol. And besides my hiatus is in June. It isn't June yet /excuses pfft/ I wanted to write something before I go. Okay. Whatever. This will be one of my most favorite pieces ever, I think. I like how this turned out to be. This is for my Rizza-unnie (ﾉ^▽^)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ Here's my love for your awesome support and for being the nicest not-related big sister ever. Plus the song was from my dad's playlist. I had to write this one down immediately.

"When they ask me how long I'm gonna love you
If the road to my heart will always stay true
I'll say forever for you"
Forever for you, Hall & Oates

( i )

He never liked women younger than he was, Soojung understood that part; how he always would prefer to play basketball in the afternoons even after trainings, and how he would want to sleep the stress away afterwards. What she didn’t comprehend much was why, despite knowing all of his quirks, his yes’ and no’s, that she tried, reluctantly, to win his heart every time, that oppa that is.

He had subtle imperfections though, hardly any if one preferred to overlook them (just as Soojung often did) and maybe that became her reason for liking him.

He was tall, the tallest among the group of boys he was set to be with as they were climbing fame mountain. Uphill he was going, as Soojung from below waited for him to come down, and he did –occasionally; Soojung never complained his kindness towards her, treatment much like a younger sister, Soojung really didn’t mind it (not too long before she found it odd already). Every time he smiled in her direction, she was unequivocally intoxicated by unsure feelings such as guilt and lust and the shallowest of them all, fabricated love.

Fabricated, as her older sister Sooyeon would define as flitting from one boy to another, as depending how well they would do her good, or how they might persuade her in the end into going out. That was Sooyeon after her break-up, the messed up aftermath of the only boy she ever love –that kind of fabrication insisted on dramas these days. But to this point, 2008 then, Jessica had transformed herself into a better woman when the cameras go on and Girls’ Generation was the highlight. The term, though, remained in Soojung’s little mind, and thus never completely forgetting it. Dramas were overrated –not really real, a fallacy indeed.

But when Choi Minho requested Soojung herself to appear in the music video of this supposed hit Juliette, she now lived a fair lie. After the filming, they had gone out and had coffee, talked a little too much of each other, and she was grinning (plus blushing) all the way back to the dormitory.

“Until next time, okay?” He said to her, kissing her cheek and she looked up at his assuring heroic face, and noticed heaven for the first time.

A year and couple of months later, hell finally went loose, without Krystal (then Jung Soojung) knowing why. Debuting in a group and having schedules left and right brought fences high, separating Minho and herself from each other and consuming their already little time to spend. Although she was climbing up right behind him to total recognition, there would always be things, uncontrollable things, that cause them to be another forgotten couple that even lunch at the company, they hardly sat together anymore.

It had became so horrible that Krystal couldn’t anymore sleep at night, couldn’t anymore perform that much better that she had begun to stand out, wrecked at once, her attitude considered rude now even to the media with the company doing their best to block off such things. She wasn’t herself anymore, wasn’t Jung Soojung anymore –but a notorious brat named Krystal, coming off as a bad name for her sister as well.

There was no call of ending, no such thing. Krystal remembered each piece of him in grief somehow, each part of him helping her up when she was down, fixing her already tired heart with a simple smile and the warmest hug he could only satisfy. At the end, dreading the same moments and being swooned by the same moments, Krystal would assure herself that it would get better, that this was just another thing that would prevent her from reaching the endgame –her endgame with Minho. In the end it would be them, even Minho knew of this, agreed to this through text messages and warm secret greetings in practice rooms.

But one day, before the distribution of lines and lessons on the choreography of Chu, Krystal found herself sobbing alone in her room back in the dormitory, wiping the tears and keeping her cell phone meters away from her as it rang ceaselessly. She threw her pillow, head craned against the wall as eyes continued to pour. Sulli, actually, liked to buzz her up for anything, anything that came up and she knew she had practice. But Krystal remained in bed, burying herself in the stuffed piglet pillow of hers.

It wasn’t Minho. He said he wouldn’t call her anymore. He said he wanted her to forget, needed her to move on. That their relationship wasn’t at all the fairytale fabrication, but the honest killer off to murder a sixteen year old’s heart. Minho was gone, and dating a noona to be exact and Krystal didn’t care which hurt harder: the fact that he was with someone else now, or that he was with someone else when they hadn’t even finished everything officially.

So much for first love stories.

( ii )

“Soojung.”

She stared right into his eyes, her trembling hands holding on to his shirt so very closely, her mouth trying to stay shut but couldn’t as she continued to squeal out loud, right in front of him and he couldn’t help himself from laughing. She thumped his shoulder angrily, unable to make anymore sudden movements.

“Okay, okay. I’m going back. I’m not going,” she hastily responded, moving away from him slowly before her foot slightly slipped at the ledge, a ear-piercing shriek again before he took her hand, wrapped his arm around her waist to flex her towards him and her attention was all his with this. They eyed each other for a long time, uncovering each other’s secrets, even when they knew perfectly so much of each other enough.

“We are 200 feet above the ground, and you shout like that in another higher octave, we’re both going to die before we reach the end of the zipline.”

“I fucking hate you Jongin, I’m not lying this time. Dammit, you retard!” she cursed, as he smugly shrugged.

He turned to her, his smile that reminded her of summer, of fun and excitement and everything in between as 2011 became the year that Jongin suddenly decided to show her one of his most devilish pastimes, that the new year was greeted with her excitedly agreeing. Right now, there was nothing but sheer regret all over her face, and even when her arms were circled around him, their bodies pressed together, including the ropes and other heavy metal that were defined to keep in them in place as the glided down the long rope, Soojung still felt unsafe, that she was going to die the moment they leap off the board.

“Have you tried this before?” Jongin whispered to her,

“Only roller coasters but never... ever this kind of shit,” she responded, chills obviously in the way she spat out her words. “I mean... if I die... can you tell Jessica I never really liked her cookies?”

Jongin didn’t repress his laughter as the instructor behind them signaled a countdown from three, two...

“If we die together, I want you to know I’ll never forgive you for this.”

He crashed his lips on to hers hastily before the final ‘one’ and they jumped off together, the line plummeting downwards that Krystal was screaming every part of her soul into the air, as Jongin remained calm, seeing her slowly smiling as they stretched farther in the journey, the hook above them making cling and clunk noises here and there. They were finally flying, suspended in air that was.

“Is that normal?”

“The what?”

“The noise!” she shouted, her hand automatically going up before Jongin grabbing it down nervously and glaring at her.

She beamed. “Why are you giving me that look?”

“You idiot, we’re running fast in case you’ve forgotten that! One touch and get burned by the rope,” Jongin explained, unhappily yet so strongly holding her hand with hesitation.

The wind rushed against their faces, the sound of a nearby waterfall also came across, and the smell of pine trees near the area eventually caused the couple to feel like this wasn’t as horrible as Krystal thought it would, as she felt brave eyeing nature with curiosity. He suddenly let go, distracted a little too, and distanced himself for once as they were too close, far too close, he decided. She kept looking down, a few ‘oh wow’s here and there which made her irresistable cute, no doubt.

“Eh! Don’t let go of me,” Soojung ordered, taking his shirt and as shallow as it might have appeared, staying in this position as though in an embrace. Jongin stiffens, and then smirks as the adventure came to a stop, the soles of their shoes finally stepping into something more solid and firm without letting go of each other.

“It’s safe now, Soojung,” he said as the crew took away the ropes.

“No... don’t let go of me yet,” Soojung uttered. “Not ever, okay?”

At that question, she looked up and he stared at her with great concern, their eyes meeting at the decent. This love, this romance game they entertain themselves with –who were they kidding here, reality? The truth slowly sunk, realizing now that Soojung was Krystal, maknae of the famous girl group f(x) and he was what? The nobody, the trainee who couldn’t even carry out the vocal lessons he applied for in cases of emergency. It was over a year now, and her insecurity still showed, still manifested itself before him, and only him (as Krystal was always brimming with confidence on stage).

He sighed. “I’ll never let you go. Not ever.”

“Promise?”

“It’s a promise,” Jongin whispered, putting a kiss on her lips again, the frail and feeble version of what he usually saw back home during training. This was Jung Soojung again, and there wasn’t a day he, Kim Jongin, wouldn’t worry of her heart.

But then it stopped, and the hands of the clock ran backwards to the time of hurt and pain and torture. Krystal found herself wanting what she couldn’t have anymore.

( iii )

“Jongin-ah... Jongin-ah...”

She was twenty-two now, a better adult than she was years beforehand, when back in the days she didn’t expect to be where she was now. F(x) was everything to the mainstream hallyu wave, known everywhere and every corner in the whole word; this year was theirs for the taking, after everything they had been through, finally this was the star they had aimed for in the beginning.

“Jongin-ah...”

“Soojung...” he shifted to her direction, amidst the moonlight shedding off a powerful gleam on her porcelain face. Her bed was smaller than his, but it never changed the fact that it felt colder here than elsewhere; be it because she always declined risky business with taking off each other’s clothes (she usually just stood there as he would be the one doing the effort, mindlessly observing him with her shrewd eyes). He could never understand what was it that ran through her mind and then after all that, as they slept together now, him unable to actually get some shut eye and even stirring more when she started sleep-‘talking’.

Somehow, he was taken aback, shortly then remembering that he was never what Soojung wanted, but only someone for comfort, for protection in case she took a knife and decided to cut, in case she jumped off a cliff for that kind of measure, in case she ran to Minho again and pleaded in front of him to take her back (that exception due to her drunk state, he recalled).

“Jongin-ah, don’t... don’t go...”

He had difficulty saying back the words, that he won’t, because after all it wasn’t him. Sehun knew he could never be Jongin, the one who always treasured gorgeous Soojung in his arms like the only pearl in the sea. Sehun knew this as the mere fact, as a universal known truth, like how much they could never be together; as true as the fact that he was the maknae of EXO while she was the younger sister of Girls’ Generation’s Jessica. It was beyond him that they were in this mess, that he was sleeping again with her.

She inhaled deep, eyes still closed with tiny tears excreted from the sides. “Jongin-ah... stay... please.”

All of this didn’t seem to matter, as Sehun pretended, like he always did, now caressing the side of her cheek like in dramas and taking hold of her, pulling Soojung close to him without another sound. She cried, again, and he started to feel the tears on his neck.

“Soojung... it’s going to be okay.”

“Promise... promise me... Jongin-ah...” She responded like it was a normal conversation before the breakup, the one played probably inside her head over and over again that Sehun’s heart died every time hearing from his girlfriend.

He stroked her hair, putting a kiss on her forehead. “I promise.”

She was wounded, and hurt and slowly dying just like himself, so he wondered how long would he have to keep loving her this way, when in fact she didn’t even reciprocate exactly the amount of feelings he gave up. Yet Sehun, quiet and dear Sehun, knew because Krystal was just as tired, and not after how many tries would he be willing to give her up. Not now, and not ever, as he promised. He would be the person she was counting on in the first place, and he would be the person she would need in the end.

If only Soojung actually cared to notice that.

Wonderwall (2/2) - little piece of heaven

wintercreamed — Fri, 18 May 2012 15:11:25 GMT

Title: Wonder wall (2/2) – little piece of heaven
Pairing: Luhan-Nana
Genre: Slice of Life/ Angst
Rating: PG
Summary: If you expect nothing from anybody, you’re never disappointed.
► I don’t know what to say for myself. I swear I’m getting really weird when it comes to my writing. Nothing matured; everything’s rushed. Part one of this mess is over here. Ugh, roughly 4,800 words.

Some romances hardly make sense, because people always argue that falling in love doesn’t involve reason or logic, or our heads, since it just complicates things. He is twenty-one, and as late as it seems now, he wonders if he has ever been in love. Luhan’s life has always been planned ahead, so that he doesn’t have to worry, to wonder, to wait; therefore no expectations, and not in the least does he need to make some: after grade school, you head to middle school, then high school and at last college –which is as he wanted, in Korea.

And he thinks it’s a little unfair that he doesn’t get girlfriends enough; not to mention this one girl who keeps following him around all the time at campus, a certain Han Sunhwa maybe who blushes every time he’s around. He wants girlfriends, not admirers –he blankly decides but he never tries and tell that girl off. She seems nice, at most, but kind of annoying in the sense. He is very much normal in his teens before too (assures his completely abnormal brain right there): he plays video games, goes to arcades, hangs out with a cool bunch of skater friends, drinks little alcohol, and even starts clubbing at 18. Yet he remembers how much he is still mistaken as younger than that.

Relationships ruin everything, he keeps thinking this. But how come he never tries? Luhan never stops thinking (his father usually tells stories to his younger sisters that their gege solves math problems in his sleep), because if he does... well, there’s no telling where he’ll end up. He doesn’t hope too much though. After college comes job. After job in little time he can have his family a noodle restaurant. After that, he’ll buy his siblings their own bikes and go hiking with them. He will buy his own car, and then have his own house. Simple enough.

“This is a stupid game!”

Except not everything is going at the right track as Luhan initially thinks it will. Not with this sucker-in-tetris inside his apartment, throwing the game console across the floor, and nearly touching his socks as he walks up with two bowls of ramyun. His eyes widen in surprise to see her this fed up, and she shrugs, crossing her arms and picking up the remote, browsing to channels in his TV.

“Why do you have more channels than I have,” she asks, but Luhan leaves that unanswered, as she is sticking to one where models start marching.

“I haven’t seen you in one of those shows before,” Luhan tells her, settling the bowl on the table and handing her chopsticks. Pouting she takes them and sits on the floor with him.

Fanning with her hands before diving in to have some of those Chinese noodles he ‘saved’, she gazes into his eyes, as he himself avoids them. “Have you seen me walk up the ramp before?”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “No. And I don’t need to.”

“You little bas---” She pokes his arm with the stick, causing him to laugh.

“Now that I realized it, I’ve never seen you without your makeup either,” Luhan adds, playing with the noodles before he lets them slither down his throat.

She shakes her head, frowning. “I look hideous.”

“It’s just makeup, Nana. How can you be hideous, eh?”

The blonde girl sticks her tongue out. “It’s important I wear makeup around other people. Nowadays, everyone’s judging your looks... Lulu.”

He chokes on the nickname, grinning at her. “Yah! What makes you think it’s nice to call me that?”

“Nana, as in Jinah,”Nana answers straightforwardly,“Lulu as in Luhan. See, I’m better at name-calling than you ever will be.”

Luhan sneers at the though, elbow on top of the table and eyes darting at her. “Why can’t you just go back to your own hole of an apartment, huh?”

She sighs. “How many times do I have to tell you? I am allergic to paint. I have to stay away from it until it actually dries.”

“It’s dry by now!” he responds, pretending .

“Not dry enough,” Nana at once counters. “My whole apartment was painted in beige two hours ago. The smell will suffocate me when I go to sleep. You know I can’t stay there. That's why I'm here, remember?”

“Your excuse just to sleep with me,” Luhan jokes, getting up since he is already finished with his. He looks back to see her insulted, making that quiet whimper of a puppy, finally hushed for some reason. He remembers two weeks ago how weak she truly is of a person, how weak her tolerance of alcohol is, how he dreads that memory of her smelling still so sickly sweet, still so fresh and vibrant. How ever she pulls things like that, along with her true bare face, will remain as another mystery to Luhan.

“Kidding, okay. I was kidding,” he then regrets at once, turning to the kitchen before she starts to smile wildly in behalf. It isn’t that she finds it amusing, but it never actually crosses her peculiar mind at the possibility that she will be sleeping with him tonight. And her silence means that she has fully taken in the idea and that is, for a person she only met two weeks and five days (and two hours, twenty-five minutes, but who’s counting), fairly awkward.

She finishes her meal a minute or so later, hastily going up to him in the kitchen so she can help, one way or another, so as not to be a burden to him tonight. Luhan is already heading back to the living room, and she shyly stiffens, and forgets how to breathe –the very weird thing to this is that she can’t even explain why.

“Er, I’ll wash the dishes,” Nana adds.

He smirks, holding his thumb out. “I don’t mind. The sink’s kind of clogged, so... you know. Be careful.” And then he leaves just as quick, changing to some foreign channel that had Mandarin chattering and shouting and cheering, and Nana still thinks that if ever Luhan was naturally Korean just like herself, maybe he can act a little more himself comfortably, more of the man she imagines him to be, and not exactly her first impression of him that one night.

Boy, he sure has a lot of dishes to be cleaned.

When she finished, she goes back now: the volume of the variety program is a bit loud, and the lights in the living room are switched off. Nana finds him asleep already, head squished in between his right arm as it’s craned against the armrest, legs curled like a cat, while his eyes slightly half-opened.

There is a yellow post-it over the television, and if her instincts are damn right, it is Luhan this time, playing with her quirky organizers this way. She enjoys using them, an array of colors too every time, depending on the mood. She will usually slip one under his door when she needs something from dear Lulu, and then he replies in the same manner, going to her door with those squares at hand.

“You take my bed. I made sure it’s germ-free and paint-free as you like it.”

And she laughs because his Hanggul is really funny, before tucking the note inside her pocket and gazing at him so quiet and soft and too precious for words that she runs to the bedroom at once and drags out a pillow and a blanket, lies one before his probably aching neck, and tops him with the clothing to keep him warm through the night.

Nana leans in close and taps his nose. “Thank you, Lulu.”

-o0o-

He isn’t exactly sure when his heart started plummeting to rock bottom every time Nana is around, but it always seem to do so, and he thinks it’s a partly normal thing (considering he has never had friends who were girls and all that, and he isn’t sure if treating her just as the way he treats Sehun and Minseok around is fair). So every time she slips or makes a small squeal, or whimper, he turns at once, asks if what is it this time (roughly too because he doesn’t want Nana to think he is being too soft on her). But he likes that feeling, of anxiety or concern or just plain worry that she might trip while walking in those five inches of shoes that keeps him drowned in height.

“It’s not nice,” he comments as Nana paces here and there, wearing her new dress and all.

She crosses her arms around her chest. “You always say that.”

“Don’t wear those shoes.”

“Why, because it’ll show you how short you really are?”

“I’m twenty-one. I’ll grow.”

“You lost all the cells you need to grow old man,” she spats, turning her back at him and heading for her closet again.

“You’re lucky you’re a girl or I would have punched you real hard,” he muses.

Nana hears this and scoffs. “But I want to wear them because they’re new and glittered! Plus, you look good with them with that dashing tuxedo.”

Shaking his head, Luhan sighs. “I’ll wait outside when you’re done. It’s going to rain soon. We particularly don’t have a car, you know. So stop complaining and just wear whatever you need to wear for that damn party.”

Walking in his tailored suit, hands tucked down his pockets, he closes the door behind and stares at the fourth floor landing. An eye over his watch, he counts the seconds in boredom, hearing the thunder outside crash on the roof, and just before the ten minute wait is terminated, one of his apart-mates opens his door, surprised than ever to see his neighbor wearing something so formal.

“Going on a date with our little Nana, eh?”

“Not really a date, Yixing,” Luhan smiles grumpily, and Yixing understands by living with him for almost two years now, that he is the only one who can pull it off efficiently without actually revealing the real emotion behind it. That smile is a half-hearted one, and Yixing always sees Luhan as a person who won’t take everything else seriously, bad or good it may be or what it may bring him. He isn’t serious, then again Yixing isn’t one to speak too soon.

He goes over to him. “Looks like one to me, though. Where are you taking her?”

“It’s not,” Luhan replies. “And she just needs an escort to this modeling debut ball or something by their company. I’m not really sure. I haven’t asked Nana much.”

“You two seem pretty close already,” Yixing says. “You don’t need to hide it from me. We’re both Chinese after all. She even slept in your apartment last night, right?”

“Yes, that’s true but---”

“Denial will lead you to nowhere, dude,” remarks the boy.

Luhan smiles at him knowingly. “I told you. We’re not dating. And she doesn’t even like me.”

Nana opens the door, her hair tied to a pony tail, exposing her bare neck. Her eyes are fully emphasized by whatever mascara or eyeliner she has put on this time, her lips pink, thin and light. She smiles at Yixing in greeting, and links her arm around Luhan, their neighbor squinting at these gestures already in suspicion.

“But you like her?” Yixing asks in Chinese, his smile and Luhan’s reddening cheeks make Nana wonder what in the world is it now. “It’s really obvious now, to be honest.”

He doesn’t move yet. Not with Jinah beside him, ogling in curiosity.

“You know I don’t like her so it’s best you mind your own business?” Luhan solemnly answers, pulling Nana away from the scenario and down the steps at once before she starts inquiring more about it.

“What was that about?” She says the moment they step into a cab.

Luhan is quiet, ignoring the girl.

“Yah.” But he knows too well, Nana won’t stop until she gets a very decent answer. “Were you two fighting for some reason? You look so... annoyed. What is it about? He seems to be winning.”

Luhan grins at her, patting her head. “It’s nothing. Don’t mind, Yixing.”

“You looked like you wanted to punch him in the face real hard,” she copies his exact statement to her earlier, along with the accent he uses. She moves closer to him, still linking arms before her head lands on his shoulder.

He doesn’t mind this, though, because it’s a rather warm feeling of her head close to his. He is too stuck with what Yixing just accused of him.

-o0o-

In his three years of stay in Korea, he has never felt like the only hammer in the other pieces of axes until the moment Nana pulls him around from here and there, socially inept he is around a bunch of people he now sees far as different than merely being Koreans. Luhan isn’t sure if it’s the manner of how they drink their gin (extending their pinky’s like some royal shit) or how they laugh (they just snicker quietly with their heads down, and that’s laughing?), and maybe also how they whisper amongst themselves and scrutinizing him along with it; so is it far more obvious now that he isn’t really like them? That he isn’t really into all the fashion and drama and trends--- he doesn’t care how his hair is styled, really.

So while they sit together in one table, he goes to her ear to tell her that he wants to go home, but she turns around to him at once; Luhan’s mouth gaps as he is about to speak and Nana’s eyes sucks him in more to an unknown enigmatic world. She smiles that he is unmoving and with that, she giggles.

“So... Nana,” speaks one of her friends, and Luhan looks away at once, pretending to check his cell phone under the table so that nobody will have to buzz him in on the conversation.

“How long have you... and him... been together?”

Then again, he fails to expect the very possible expectation. Nana giggles brightly, covering her mouth and patting Luhan, as he starts beaming, acting all the way he can so that she won’t know anything of it. From below her hand slips to his hand and grips him very tightly. Luhan blanches, and then Yixing appears in his head, telling him about them being something else, that a second later, he pulls his hand, looking away so as not to see her reaction.

She is quiet and still, he observes so he turns to her friends with a smile, waiting for Nana to give out a response but she doesn’t, and instead drinks her punch.

“We’re... we’re just friends.”

As she puts the glass down, Nana bites her lower lip, forcing a smile so real. She doesn't want Luhan to see any of it. “Yeah. Neighbors. He helps me around though while I do the same for him. Isn’t that right, Luhan?” He misses the Lulu and gets the tinge of mockery in her tone instead.

He nods, pressing his lips together. “Of course, Nana.”

“Well, you guys look perfect together! You should start dating.” Luhan eyes the girl in doubt –if she is somehow Yixing’s reincarnation, and ends up keeping quiet in bitterness and annoyance.

“We’re not, so don’t push it,” Nana answers timidly, looking at him and seeing that he appears blank and uncaring.

As that little teasing fades, both of them are quiet now, silent, that the night comes to a halt, getting more and more awkward between them. They get back to the apartment, the beautifully morbid-looking 4th floor of their old apartment, and she goes right while him, still a bit unnerving from the party.

“You didn’t have to go with me if you were so sulky,” Nana says before opening her door.

He chuckles at this. “I wanted to go. I needed to get some air before my exams.”

She doesn’t anymore says a word, hurriedly going inside and locking the door behind her. Luhan scratches his head a little, thinking now that he has to apologize, but later on understands that he isn’t even at fault. There is no mistake: he just admits the truth, what is so cursed of that he wonders. Nothing. Simple enough.

But he feels he has wronged her. One way or another. He just has these senses with Nana that he knows he can’t easily take for granted, nor ignore. Nana will forget this, and so he ignores what happened to them tonight and gets to bed, engulfed in the lavender scent she left on his sheets. Luhan thinks he needs to have them dry-cleaned or else he won’t be able to sleep too well.

-o0o-

He doesn’t hear from Nana the next day and the one after that so he tries using the ever popular post-its to bribe her---after class, he goes right to her door, and slips three yellow ones, asking if she wants to watch a movie, play Go Fish, or eat outside. She‘s sure to reply to them, if she is avoiding the casual talks between them. And Luhan really doesn’t want to force on her if she doesn’t want to.

But two hours leave him hanging by his Marketing book, waiting by the door if she’s going to leave her response. Luhan, to his horror, accidentally falls asleep and then as he opens his eyes, daybreak greets his couch, but no post-its to his side at all. Getting rather impatient, he barges across the hall, knocks on her door at five in the morning with his hands on his hips.

Still no sound, no anything. He stirs the door knob, and is surprised even more that it’s not locked.

“Nana?”

He steps on his own notes from below, noticing that is untouched. Luhan’s insides start to panic, before he starts dashing from room to room in search for the girl, and she is nowhere to be found. He rarely uses his cell phone, but at times like this, maybe it can be put to good use.

He calls. It’s ringing. No beep at all.

“Luhan?”

He spins at the voice, his eyes immediately darting at the front door only to see quite a different face but he recognizes her soon enough, even in her faded trench coat, with a beanie over her sunny-dyed tresses. She wasn’t wearing Prada shoes today; instead some sneakers that looked brand new. Luhan keeps his phone and lowers his head slowly, greeting a very quiet good morning.

“Where have you been?” He goes impassive at once, she notes.

She giggles, closing her eyes. “Jogging.”

“At this hour? Seriously?” Luhan exclaims in shock, not even seeing the sun out yet. “It sounds dangerous.”

“Morning person,” she answers, taking off her shoes and pass by him without saying anything else. “You had breakfast already?”

"Ahjumma," He pinches the bridge of his nose, heading for the door. “Don’t scare me like that. I have an exam later.”

Nana can’t repress her giggle, and he shakes his head, forgetting the matter at once. As he is about to go, he halts and remembers something, smiling back at her, “And you look pretty even without your makeup.”

At his door, with a purple sticky note, it says, “I was too tired last night. I couldn’t go. Sorry.”

-o0o-

He doesn’t like to expect, but soon enough he’s always wishing (hoping) for a way out of this guilt, out of misery, and he doesn’t want to just walk up to Nana and ask what’s the matter like how they used to a couple of days beforehand. It isn’t that easy, especially when he will always be the first one to make conversations or ask her out on dates –then Nana turns them all down and says that she’s too busy or she can’t because she’s sleepy, or that she plainly doens’t want to go out at all. And all of these transactions done through passing notes, even when he is not at all efficient in writing Hanggul that much.

Before he knows it, it’s already the end of November, and this love letters thing as Minseok teases him about just stops suddenly because he thinks it’s wasting too much of his time, even when Nana doesn’t anymore bother responding to them. Sometimes he keeps scribbling on the post-its, but ends up throwing them in the trash bin because she won’t bother picking it up anyway. There are times when he goes out for school, she will also be heading out shopping or whatever it is that she does. And then at times he will wake up very early, just to spy on her from his bedroom window, as she is walking back home now after her morning walk. It’s always times like this that he remembers the little little things he has done for her, and fairly wonders if ever this has crossed her mind too. He doesn’t like to bother her anymore with these (he doesn’t like to bother her about anything else related to him), and he feels that he isn’t obliged to do so. After all, they are just friends.

Simple enough, Luhan thinks.

But it stings him to the core that he can’t sleep. He spends most of the night daydreaming, instead of studying (so his quizzes more or less go from great to mediocre), and he thinks it’s because he’s always wanting to know if she is all right, alone in her apartment. What if a rat scurries through her clothes, what if her room needs another round of painting, what if she needs someone to say, ‘your shoes aren’t nice’... those things. They were nothing to her maybe, and Luhan also believes in that until one time he senses that his whole world will finally come to an end.

A week before December enters and the snow crashes in to the miserable pavements of Seoul. Luhan wakes up from a queasy dream about studying in China, and as he opens the door, Yixing is standing there, a shy smile as always, humble little Yixing greeting him.

Luhan yawns. “You need fixing the roof or something?”

He shakes his head and gives him a rubick’s cube, one complete shade of nine in every face. “She says sorry.”

“Who?”

The boy’s lips twisted to the his left. “Jinah.”

“What for?” Luhan has this habit of acting; always acting around with reality before it sinks in.

“You’re a complete moron for someone studying in Yonsei,” Yixing smiles softly and pushes the cube to him with ease. Luhan’s stomach churn in sigh, as if already expecting that this will turn out very badly for him.

“She moved to another apartment two weeks ago. Out of Seoul.”

-o0o-

“Oppa, I’m a little worried about tomorrow. How long does it take to get to China? Are they going to pick us up at the airport?”

He smiles enthusiastically, the girl’s hand holding his own. “Well... I called dad and said I’m bringing along home a girl named Sunhwa with me and do you know what he said?” Shaking her head, Luhan chuckles and continues. “He said, this calls for a celebration.”

“So you’ve never... brought a girl home before?” asks the young girl sweetly, as he climbs up to his shabby apartment, bringing along with him little Sunhwa. It’s almost Christmas eve, and not too long last year, Luhan remembers hugging his sister and getting presents (hugs and kisses from relatives too). It is a nice feeling despite the feeling of missing someone sweeps him off that winter time. He is teaching at the university now, because the faculty after graduation can’t let him go that easily.

“I am oppa’s first girlfriend, then?” She takes pride in that, he observes.

He lets go now as she plants a kiss on his cheek. He smiles half-heartedly, wiping his face from the lip gloss that she pinches them next and they both giggle.

“Hey, I missed seeing you smile this way, you know?” Sunhwa tells him.

He nods. “I know. See you tomorrow at the airport.” And then she disappears down the staircase not a moment too soon. Luhan shoves his key by his knob, goes inside with a heavy sigh and the frowns again once more to see the place all messy. He must have forgotten to clean up before going out with her. Aish, and he has to leave early tomorrow morning and his parents will finally meet their possible daughter-in-law if only he has those guts to just go with the flow.

Yet ever since meeting her, it’s impossible now. It’s impossible not to hope too much, and then get disappointed for it not coming true. It’s when you have goals, and you barely reach them, one step away, because of some reason –and he doesn’t like those reasons at all. It’s not like he wants to marry Sunhwa either, nor is willing to go and leave her heartbroken.

Maybe other people are smart, and Luhan is dumb. Maybe you don’t need your brain to love at all, because surely it just lingers things to the unbearable. As he starts cleaning things, he notices a sticky note over his cube by the television.

At once, the memory of the girl next door grows and grows and consumes every part of his mind now. Nana. It’s Nana.

It’s blank though, and not a single stroke of line. So Luhan assumes then that it must have been him a day or two ago, he doesn’t quite remember more so of it.

“How are you, my wonderwall?”

He jerks up at the voice, standing and gazing at his doorway to see the goddess of beauty without eyeliner or designer lip gloss, but still majestic, still enthralling, still so blooming and gorgeous that he goes up to her in shock. Is this all yet another dream of his?

“Nana?”

“Lulu.”

He beams, hastily pulling her into a hug, with her also embracing him so very tightly. It is like tears are being squeezed out of him, because his vision clouds his view of the place –her smell of happiness and grace just sprinkled all over like spring, despite it being winter.

“I miss you. I miss you so much. I miss you so so much,” he utters again and again to her ear and she just grins.

“I did too,” she answers, pulling away. “I can’t believe you’re still living here.”

“Where have you been? I mean... I mean, I went to you office and said you didn’t work there anymore so I thought you got fired that’s why you moved away because you couldn’t pay the rent anymore or something and... gah!” He throws both his hands up, still in disbelief that the girl he is thinking of a second ago is now standing right in front of him.

Nana punches his shoulder playfully. “You and your exaggerations. I just moved to Busan, that’s all.”

“And... and, what are you doing here?”

Her joyous smile turned into a depressing one, and the more that he sees her looking like this, the more he grips her hand tightly. “I’m going to France now to work there. Modeling is much like traveling and it’s.. truly been like a dream for me.”

“Except it isn’t because it’s coming true now,” Luhan says, trying to be happy for her. “Guess I can’t make you stay though. But it sounds like an awesome dream.”

She stares at him now, because of the words he used and she opens her mouth feebly, before sighing and then planting a small kiss on his lips. “A dream without you in it.”

Luhan miserably leans in some more of that kiss and grows, instead of being happy, horribly depressed. “Don’t go. For me. Come on, Jinah. Let’s make it happen. Please, I need you.” Another kiss further, and Nana prays that this is really reality, the truth and not the damned one they have before.

“I’m... sorry,” she says, almost crying. “But... we can’t. And you somehow know that too, right?”

“我爱你,” Luhan tells her, holding her face.

With little comprehension of Mandarin, she knows that one phrase most in which she replies, “I love you. I loved you even when we were just friends. But...”

He moves away, heart rejected the second time around. “I’ll... I understand.”

Nana holds her hand out for him to shake, and he looks at it oddly before carefully holding it, ignoring the beating of his heart, or the nagging of his brain. “Until the next time, my wonderwall, okay?”

“Until... there is a next time.”

Luhan doesn’t lose hope, even until forever. He will always believe in the next time, whenever it may be, and if he still will be part of her next time, her dreams, her heart. It is at their words of parting does he continue to strive for goals and expectations and Nana, as he often sees her in the television back in China, will always be the inspiraton behind them.

He is in love. And dare Luhan say it, he has never expected to be with this person either.

...

Berceuse

wintercreamed — Wed, 09 May 2012 06:01:51 GMT

Title: Berceuse
Pairings: Chanyeol/Jiyeon
Genre: AU Romance
Rating: PG
Summary: She isn’t really sure how it starts to feel wrong; but she lets it happen anyway.
► This is for Valerie (dream_land3). I'm not really quite sure what I'm doing here and because it's a crackship, and there aren't really any particular shippers, I'd love to work with this pairing some time in the future. Supposedly angst, because I was going to include Aj in this thanks to kisoap and somehow ended all romantic. Ugh, I'm getting weaker with plots every time. Sorry for the mess.
As I've read from somewhere, Chanyeol and Jiyeon were both in a modeling search together before any of the two debuted(?). Idk I was bored and sick when I was writing this.

Berceuse is a 6/8 time composition that may also mean a lullaby.

The more I cover my eyes the clearer your image gets, it’s you it’s you
The more I block my ears the more I hear you all day long
It’s so difficult to read your eyes
(c) Baby Steps- TaeTiSeo

Park Chanyeol found it amusing that he signed up for ballroom classes after his best-est best friend Baekhyun tricked him into it, and found it even more hilarious that Baekhyun actually had soccer for his elective and thus leaving him to suffer on his own. In other words, the next morning as they took the bus together, he couldn’t find the right words to say and just happen to slap the boy’s sandwich into Baekhyun’s nonexistent abs/gut-whatever-he-called-his-tummy, before taking the back seat.

Now Baekhyun would always be the first to apologize; high school was all different now from their middle school life--- it was a level better and cafeteria tables (unless you were popular because you didn’t have to worry about those) were scarce. So he had to apologize, because Chanyeol was his only friend, he had no one to eat that sandwich with.

“Dude, take it easy. You can always transfer to soccer,” Baekhyun teased. “But... yeah, you can’t anymore.”

Chanyeol picked up his bacon, waving it in his face. “You know, I’d eat you up for doing that. You’re unbelievable, man. I can’t dance.”

“You can dance... pretty decent,” he snickered. “Come on, it can’t be that bad. You’ll enjoy ballroom.”

He towered over the other kids really, and he always felt insecure when their gazes just end up falling on his clothes, arms or messed-up hair; on the contrary to his outer expression, he was annoyed deep inside and wanted to trample on each one of them. It was rude to stare, his mother always reminded him (that was before knowing Kyungsoo, anyway).

When their instructor stood in the center and all the other students began gathering around the center, giant Chanyeol squeezed himself from behind this darker skinned person, his lazy gaze going to him with little care and then back to the ahjumma in the center.

A couple of rambling and feet shuffling, they were asked to get started and look for partners. Flustered that he knew nobody here, he looked around for some extra pair, and at this desperate attempt of not being embarrassed in front of everyone who totally had no idea he was in the first place, he pulled the nearest girl to his side immediately, before it was all too late, before in his eyes his unimportant social world ended.

“Let’s start with the Samba, okay everyone? The basic steps are really easy. At the end of this course, you'll be learning more than that. You and your partner will be working together until the end." *

Chanyeol, sighing now that he was safe, turned to the girl, and to his surprise, she looked absolutely different from the usual girls he had seen around the campus. She was tall, like him so no surprise there, and her eyes, almond and large and dark brown, were nowhere on him either --- then he realized that if they were, he would be holding his breath in, and also avoiding the possible evidence that he was checking her out.

“Did you get that?” She began speaking now, turning to him and holding her hands out.

With his eyes still observing her, Chanyeol caught himself shaking his head and scratching his neck in embarrassment. “Uh, no sorry.”

With a displeased expression, she clicked her tongue. “It’s easy.” She then grabbed his hands and lead him to follow her takes, both of them looking down at their feet, him occasionally (often) stepping on hers.

“See,” she said, a little lighthearted now than earlier.

With his head down and still getting the remaining parts of the dance, he let go of her hand and stared back into her deep eyes. Goodness, they were deep all right.

“What?” she wondered.

“You have really weird eyes.”

He got ignored for the rest of the period by his partner of what he said, so he told Baekhyun about her, since he really had no idea what was so rude or offensive of what he said.

“Pshh, don’t worry! Girls are like that,” Baekhyun assured.

He chuckled. “Oh how do you know?”

The boy, letting go of his backpack and putting on his headphones, stared blankly at the sunset as they rode the bus home together again. “You know this girl from the school choir. We practice as a group together and when I catch her looking at me, she turns into this... evil little pixie. Really, it’s a weird thing. Maybe your partner’s like that.”

Chanyeol shrugged. “She seemed different. She looked different too.”

He didn’t quite understand women, really: first they let you hold them, the very personal space you had left consumed, and after about five minutes, when you really had to do well because someone else was watching, she’d inch away. Chanyeol now began thinking maybe she is after all just like everyone else; maybe there wasn’t anything that set her apart from the rest of the femme fatal types. This girl, who he rather had never asked her name ever since the first meeting, would be the reason for his failure.

“Why’d you take up ballroom?”

He turned to Jongin, the exotic dancer as everyone referred to. The boy just smirked, changing back into his uniform after their class.

“Well... I always wanted to take it up. So I thought, why not?”

“You must have had like a ton of girlfriends already, right? I mean.... with your dancing, I suppose everyone gets attracted by it easily.” Chanyeol told him and then they burst into laughter.

Jongin shook his head. “I have one right now actually.”

“Oh? Is she pretty?”

The boy, wiping the remains of his sweat and shoving the black wifebeater into his bag, pointed the doorway with his lips, and there stood Chanyeol’s partner, the one with strange pretty eyes, who was staring at them both impatiently.

“She’s in our class too,” Jongin stated, picking up his things.

“My partner?” Chanyeol wondered, his heart racing up a notch, his eyes doing their best to look unperturbed.

The boy’s lip twitched to a smile, thumping his shoulder. “Her friend,” The said girl approached Jongin, and not too far behind was a very annoyed one.

The couple left ahead, with Chanyeol prevented from following. “The practical exam’s on Monday. We need to practice tomorrow.”

“It’s the weekend. Baekhyun and I are going out for some basketball.”

She scowled. “Is that more important than this?”

Chanyeol nodded, sore and unsure. “But....”

“But we’ll fail if you don’t practice and you know it,” she reminded him.

“Would you go out on a date with me afterwards?”

Jiyeon’s expression faltered, softening in total shock. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Date... err, you and me... “Chanyeol didn’t really know what he was doing, he just wanted to say something like that.

“If you come tomorrow, and until we perfect the steps... “ she trailed off, looking into his eyes now. “Then I can’t see why not.”

He skipped basketball because he was going on a date with her (and Baekhyun still did not believe that she would agree, saying, “You barely know each other!” and of course Chanyeol replied with, “That’s why we’re getting to know each other this way.”) For Chanyeol, it was how time flew so quick that made him the luckiest boy in the planet, and he had been so very efficient (too efficient, she added) in dancing that by two that afternoon, shot by exhaustion, the two ended up taking the bus home after grabbing corndogs in the street.

They were seated together, without saying anything, without actually exchanging any conversation after they finished the food.

Chanyeol felt awkward, then again when was he not.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?” She asked while leaning by the window, not taking a single glance at him.

He cleared his throat. “About... yeah, I wasn’t actually planning... the date and all.”

She smiled slightly. “That’s all right.”

“I mean, I wasn’t even expecting that you’d agree and now we end up going home doing nothing fun all because---”

The girl giggled, poking the side of head. “Yah, I said it’s all right.”

They stared at each other for a long time, trying to uncover each other from the way their eyes begged to be understood, and neither one overlooked that timing, the way the sun just seemed about to set, and the way the bus finally stopped at the corner where she was supposed to get off.

“I’ll get going now,” she then said, smiling widely.

He couldn’t take his eyes off her, trying to memorize every bit of her image into his memory--- adjusting himself to th way her eyes were shaped this way, the way her brown hair fell on her face and her upper lip curving to get nothing but perfection. She was beautiful, and upon that realization, Chanyeol decided to follow her as she got off, and dragged her out of the sidewalk and into a nearby store.

“Do you like ice cream?”

She couldn’t help herself from giggling, because this was beyond unexpected. “Of course I do! Who doesn’t?”

Excitedly he requested two cups, pulling wallet out and paying at once, grinning with a very proud expression written all over his face. Once the order was handed, he turned to her, smiling so pensively as they exchange swift gazes, her arms around her for some reason.

“Take it!”

“You’re really something, you know that?” she said, snatching the cup and feeling nostalgic at the taste of chocolate on her lips.

“Park Jiyeon,” she stated, head lowered.

Chanyeol repeated the name in his head as they walked together so he wouldn’t forget it. “You’re really something as well, Park Jiyeon.”

Chanyeol couldn’t clear his head that easy either, and Baekhyun had noticed it while passing notes about tomorrow’s basketball session and he simply lifted the paper, read it and then tucked it without anymore complaints, not a single one--- and that was something not very Chanyeol-like, his best-est best friend decided.

“You’re going to come tomorrow, right? Luhan-hyung and the rest are there,” Baekhyun said as they exited the classroom. More and more students were flooding the hallways too, and so they had to get to the cafeteria for lunch. “You’re spacing out a lot, you know.”

“Just nervous,” he said. “Our practical for waltz is tomorrow so I have to get myself all prepared.”

“This girl’s really pressuring you too much. Dump her,” his friend decided, which led to laughter between them both.

“We’re not even together,” Chanyeol answered. “But it’s nice to think of it that way, too.”

“When are you going to be together? I mean I even got my chances at Jieun, so you have to make your move sometime! And let me tell you, girls want guys to make the first moves.”

“Oh like how you always say sorry to her when you forget dates?”

They were chuckling upon meeting their other friends for lunch, Jongin--- Chanyeol’s friend from his ballroom--- included also. They were already a growing circle, and it was nicer to stick together this way, then be left alone. And then before he knew it, his eyes fell on the girl across their table, eating alone her vegetables, vibrating cell phone at one side.

“Jiyeon’s there. I hadn’t seen her today during ballroom,” he whispered to Baekhyun, and at the interruption, he shifted and felt the lonesome atmosphere from the other side.

“Talk to her, now’s your chance,” his friend insisted, pushing him out of the bench.

“What do you mean---”

“Talk as in talk to her about how you feel,” Baekhyun rolled his eyes. “Don’t come back before you’ve got her.”

Pouting and a little scared, he took his tray and approached Jiyeon bravely, though his knees begged otherwise as they shook the whirlwind in his system. They weren’t this nervous when they would be dancing, and they had already been through too much paired parts, so he decided to ignore the loud drop in his stomach and went anyway.

“Psst,” he called. A few more steps, Chanyeol you coward. Just walk up to her! He froze midway, so he needed somewhat her help to ease that kind of feeling. She looked up at it and smiled, moving her tray to make some space.

He sighed, going to her now and counting his breath, any minute he could forget that though. “Why aren’t you eating with anyone?”

Jiyeon picked up her fries. “Why aren’t you staying with them, instead? You guys looked like the happy virus club.”

“You weren’t at class earlier,” Chanyeol began, picking up his carton of apple juice.

She inhaled heavily, making him look at her. She smiled in grace, also much like a thank you one. “I had to go to the airport to pick up...family.”

“Why are you eating alone? Don’t you have any friends?”

She giggled at his... unrestricted honesty. “Aren’t you my friend?”

Chanyeol shrugged. “But what about Kai’s girlfriend? Weren’t you friends...”

Her cell phone started ringing, a simple melodious kind of tune, the one played earlier in class Chanyeol remembered, and so he grinned. “That kind of tune was used earlier. Teacher said it’s called Berceuse.”

Impatient and irritated, she turned her phone off and slipped it back to her bag. “Aren’t you going to pick that up?”

“Unimportant.”

“But what if it was family and...”

“Unimportant, so enough, okay? It doens’t concern you so don’t butt in,” She nearly shouted, taking her lunch with her and throwing it to the trashbin as she walked out of the place, backpack over her shoulder and Chanyeol, still on that table alone, gaping in surprise. He looked at Baekhyun who he knew to be spying on every move he made, only to find him dumbfounded at this as he was.

What had just happened?

The next day he wanted to run. Although it was announced that there wouldn’t be any session the next day, he still wanted to go because knowing Jiyeon, she wouldn’t have wanted to miss out a few steps. She always wanted to make up for things, although she really didn’t ask him to. He really didn’t know what to do now that Jiyeon was in some way angry at him. He couldn’t just suddenly say sorry through text messages, because she wasn’t even paying attention to them. He couldn’t just walk up to her that morning and ask what wrong was it this time, because that might have looked like he was really desperate in getting her. Or other than that, every plan he could think was going the wrong way and ending almost in disasters.

She knocked on the door, her eyes a little vacant but nonetheless fearless as he remembered them to be.

“You... okay, now?”

Jiyeon sighed without looking at him, nodding. “Yeah.”

He neared her because it would seem she wouldn’t be the one making any effort in this and because he kept Baekhyun’s advice in mind. “Do you want to learn the dance now?”

She let him take her hand, as he switched the player on. They were both standing, facing each other, before Chanyeol’s arm fell on to her back, his other free one holding her hand and slowly they started with the basic steps, both silently feeling in the music, the virtual piano man and Chopin in their minds as very carefully their steps were timed. Timing, always on the essential things in ballroom.

Before he knew it, she had her head on his shoulder, chin pressing on his shirt that he suddenly felt nervous.

“You’re scared of me, aren’t you?” She asked him sweetly, her hands wrapping around him, as his fell on her waist.

“Just... a little.”

“I’m sorry about... yesterday. Life’s just been rough on me,” Jiyeon said.

The music was too much of a lullaby, his eyes closing along with it. “It’s all right. If you need someone to talk to, you know I’m very more than welcome. I am your friend.”

“My boyfriend just got home from Bangkok and...” she couldn’t continue, licking her lips and moving away. They gave each other long gazes, still and very silent. Chanyeol’s grip on her just froze too, because of hearing boyfriend in her sentence. It meant she belonged to someone, she was someone else’s property and that meant he had already lost a battle of overcoming his fear of confession to a rich guy who she had given her yes. Smooth, real smooth.

Instead of telling her all of this, he gulped. “And?”

“It’s just that... well, we kind of promise each other marriage after high school. I’m planning to transfer to Thailand next semester and I honestly don’t... know what I’m going to do. My parents already knew and they think it’s nice and I’ll be fine living with him too since we’ve met each other for so long. I thought for this long and hard and I thought you should know.”

Chanyeol let go, not because he wanted to, but because he had to. He rubbed his nose with his finger, avoiding her eyes. “Well, you should go. If that’s what you want.” He scratched his head, picking up his coat and turning off the music. A swing of the backpack and a small wave, he left not a second more, without words to give her.

Jiyeon bit her lips. “But that’s not what I want.”

And not a second later, she was about to run after him, tell him honestly how she felt; so as she got out of the room, and sensing that Chanyeol really would have liked some air, she dashed to the rooftop, and indeed, her instincts lead her right.

He looked up at her by the door, making so much noise.

Jiyeon rushed to his side, that the moment he stood up, she was already hugging him, her eccentric laughter echoing in the air that his eyes grew in shock. Out of its own accord, his hand fell on her head, and a smile crawled into his face.

“You didn’t let me finish,” Jiyeon said, digging her face into his sweater.

“What was it?”

She smirked, pinching both of his cheeks. “I think you got what I meant.”

“So you like me?”

Jiyeon chuckled brightly, before on her toes, planting a small kiss on the boy’s cheek. Even when the birds were the only ones making that much noise, Chopin still played in his head, putting his life into serenity as they walked down the stairs together. Boy, wouldn’t Baekhyun be so proud of him!

.Fin

~~a/n: what is this mess i've done u___u~~

(drabbles) I can't get you out of my mind

wintercreamed — Mon, 07 May 2012 13:39:25 GMT

Title: Moving backwards
Pairing: Donghae/Jessica
Genre: Angst
Rating: G
Summary: Take me back to the day when we first met.
► For bollywoodrecord who I promised to make one (I should've made like a one-shot but I'm still in the block, sorry bb)

She asked you to let go, but you wouldn’t let her. That was when you saw her tears, hastily forgetting the reason why you were fighting and you wanted to take her in your arms, tell her it would be all right from now on, but she stepped back, shaking her head and leaving the room as the clock reached midnight, just like Cinderella. Just like that goddamn fairytale.

She left. Just when you thought everything was going perfect. Forget me.

You knew it could have been better. One way or another –you always hoped, you always played with the strings of what-ifs and choices, and you never really even had up to this point given it all up. Could that be because your heart got used to her so close to yours?

Indeed, you had earned that nickname from her well, too well and perfect. Babo –how could you let your heart slip off your fingers? Weren’t you trusting? Or was it the lack of it?

Everything else, reality itself, would come to an end but at least you tried. You tried and you fell for the deep trench of reason everyone was referring to as love. You didn’t know it was love, nor did you find it to be love. You found her attractive, found her sweet and you wanted her for yourself, like candy; but it became much more than what you expected it to be.

And as you sat there, still thinking and trying to keep your mind condemned in the pleasing alcohol, you started to flashback still, at faint memories of her, sad and happy ones alike.

And you would never forget how she twirled in her best Sunday dress, pink it was, with her younger little sister near her, looking depressed all of a sudden at the whole point of dancing in front of a big crowd. You took a peek, escaped from your first day of practice and she was in one of the practice rooms with a few of the older members of the company. She always enjoyed herself while performing, with or without her sister, you knew.

In fact you gathered a lot about her that were just too hard to ‘forget’. She would hold your hand very tightly when she was scared, when she was excited, oftentimes backstage during SM Town tours and when it was too impossible to be that separated, you would kick in glances, trying to suffocate each other with those and maybe live, as much only for that. She would like to sleep beside you, even when it bothered you a little. She grew so much in you, too much that now that it was all over, the first few moments kept reappearing, coming in flashes when you would be doing the dishes and just before you went to bed.

It was like dying, the break-up: a part of you forced to leave everything behind but you knew too well you could never. The memories, just at the last minutes of your life, continued to haunt you and you couldn’t anymore distinguish dream from the real world.

Could you just take me back to the beginning?

Title: Something New
Pairing: Siwon/Tiffany
Genre: Angst
Rating: G
Summary: New tides and new currents, it's impossible to keep up with all of them.
► For falsefallacy Prompt: New Guy

He doesn’t regret. There were too much in life to be sorry about, and he doesn’t like to keep track of any of them. Living with so many doubts, so many questions –he has to have a little more faith, so he keeps his chin up, but heart impatiently wondering what else can surface.

“I like him.”

“You sound like a schoolgirl. He’s younger than you.”

“I’m younger than you.”

“By two years, that doesn’t mean anything.”

“See. It doesn’t mean anything,” she emphasizes. “Even if I do like him, this new kid, it doesn’t actually mean a thing.”

He wants to believe her, really. Siwon has dedicated two years of his personal life for her, the gem of the company, a different kind of oxygen to his somewhat mediocre idol life. Tiffany is a different kind of twinkle perfection, fabricated to be the nonetheless the only straw to his berry and the apple to his pie; which ironically he finds a little too cliche those lyrics of a certain song.

It is never enough to associate her to sweets: Tiffany is different but entirely the same. She is a taste that is not acquired at once, but when one does, effectively it lasts. She lasts.The sweetness, too sticky--- it makes her something that is hard to get, and eventually something you are just bound to regret.

And then there is Wu fan. Wu fan has another flavor into his personality, the range of their so-called rainbow was from the bright red to Tiffany being the little last pinch of violet in the end. Too different, Siwon always always thinks that they are. He is quick on his feet, he watches during their breaks while playing basketball, and sometimes at the corner of his eye, he will see her cheering for the other team, for the enemy, for Wu fan and maybe, even if he doesn’t admit it, he feels betrayed.

“We’re still together, Miyoung-ah.”

“But it doesn’t matter anymore, now does it?”

Siwon doesn’t regret of letting her go, but somewhere he hopes, prays and even waits for another miracle. He doesn’t regret. Or that he tries not to.

_________________________________________________________________________________________

► Because I'm lazy doing the rest of the things that I'm suppose to do, you've got yourself another drabble set. Sigh, this is really getting offhand, I swear. And depression's kind of not working that well for me so if you're surprised with the influx of stories I keep making these past two months (honestly I am too because I'm as lazy as a rock), it's because I'm really anxious and I have been feeling really... unwell to write really efficiently and I don't know, writing has been more like a need now, like breathing. If I don't write, I'm not quite myself. As expected though, Haesica had always been my angst muse. And Siwon-Tiffany, my first time for the couple so they're all messes. I'm sorry I needed ventilation. I'm really another hopeless kid, I should be updating my chaptered ones.

Lessons Learned

wintercreamed — Sun, 06 May 2012 15:16:04 GMT

Title: Lessons Learned
Pairings/Characters: Eunhyuk/ Patrice (OC)/Onew (and other minor appearances of SM artists)
Genre: AU Romance/Angst 2,175 words
Rating: PG
Summary: Sometimes love isn't enough; sometimes it's just too much.
▲ This is for my beautifully-unexplained-and-spazzy unnie who is going to Korea and ~~prove her OTPs are real~~ ｡◕ ‿ ◕｡. And I know it's a bit disappointing for her to know that I can't write anything other than het (no Jongkey, no Eunhae, no Baekyeol) and because it's her 18th birthday on May 15 (and also Sunny's!), I hope she will enjoy this ugly thing that I've been working on and maybe next time if I have that budget, I'll give her a more worthy present than my fics. For now, she will have to bear with this. ´ ▽ ` )ﾉ It's actually hideous so yeah, back button to the left.

To unnie, uhm.. uhm, I'm embarrassed right now so I'll go hide. I love you! ♡ ~~Buy me a Luhan please please please please~~.

Let’s go on dreaming...
For we know we are
So close and still so far
(So close by Jon McLaughlin)

Private relationships. Funny, I never realized how private could imply something so much more in this versatile world.

I looked at the mirror and wondered when, when had all this madness started and why was I here in this dream-like place, when about two years ago I was just behind the laptop eying the cloud curtains in the background as my favorite ‘oppas’ were dancing. And now I was here myself, only in a state of slavery or hell or whichever made more sense. I’d be twenty now, and I hardly remember most of my days as one of them, as one who these idols, my sunbaes, would never take into consideration. Harsh reality, but weren’t all truths like that?

In a few more weeks, it would start. The hate, the praise, all the other thrilling things that paved my contract from the beginning. I didn’t choose this path to follow, but when opportunity knocked on your door (more like knocked me out while walking in the park last 2012), you particularly had no choice left. It was then or never; never ever enter the mysterious idol world.

Any fangirl’s dream perhaps, but right then while I was finishing my bubble tea and enjoying the lights, some random man bumped into me and sort of asked if I could dance. I laughed really, because what kind of stranger would ask someone they just met with things like that, unless of course, if my instincts were right, he was a scout. Not a boy scout because he was an ahjusshi, but a talent scout and to my surprise, I ended up getting in the following week. It was all so crazy, the hype, excitement, and goodness, reminiscing to how I was so naive then and so lost in translation made me think that I was indeed too young to know anything.

I was in love with the idea of being an idol, and maybe because they already accessed my accounts back at home and transfered me to one of the best damn universities in Korea (so I also asked them why did they, and they said I deserved the best). The training fees up to these point were on debt until I debuted--- which was soon coming.

Tomorrow was our showcase, the female counterpart of EXO, but we were much less in number and we weren’t destined to perform in China either; seven was fine already because attention would be divided amongst ourselves. Our leader was a '92 liner, and she would be like Suho-oppa, bright and cheerful and unnie totally could do most of the rapping parts. After her would be our main vocalist, followed by two of our lead dancers. Then this Chinese ulzzang who was the same age as me that would work out as the group’s visual (and she was really nice too when she arrived in the company and kind of lost with the language barrier like myself). As the main dancer though, I had greater exposure during dance breaks, and tomorrow I had three parts to deal with. And Jongin even made a joke about how people would notice every mistake I’d do.

“Ate, you all right?”

Now that was the maknae Lynde, and she had always been Lynde ever since I’ve met her back in high school (she refused to call me unnie nonetheless because ate always felt like home), but now she was forced to the same endeavor as I had, except she had been at it for only a year, like how the scout visited my hometown, and she was lucky--- she sang Baby Steps efficiently and her teaser views was second after our visual, thus lead vocalist after our leader. She was like the mini-Taeyeon only she was taller than unnie. For months now, she got private lessons from Luhan-oppa (and no, usually it was more of a homework kind of teaching), with her coming back to the dorm past twelve and she would tell me, “Don’t worry, I already ate.”

I nodded, wiping my forehead. “You ready for tomorrow?”

“Luhan-oppa said it’ll be scary. People would be anticipating mistakes.”

“Your Luhan-oppa is the encouraging type, isn’t he?”

“Telekinesis thing,” She laughed, getting up and walking away. “I can’t get the skipping part in the chorus, ate. They’re going to laugh at me.”

I shook me head, tired but eventually getting up to face the mirror again. “We’ll do great.”

“Eunhyuk-oppa’s looking for you, by the way,” Lynde added before completely leaving me alone. “He said he’ll be coming to check on you.”

I suddenly fell stiff while stretching, my eyes widening in total shock upon hearing his name. I couldn’t do this, really. Not when he wouldn’t talk to me, not when he just passed by earlier, not when we were celebrating and we were the only two ones sulking in the background. It was stupid, this game. And I was the one who shouldn’t have been expecting, wanting too much.

Maybe it was because I was in love. Laugh, maybe that would be a stupid way coming from a fangirl-turned-idol. When I entered the company, I hadn’t realize that there was little possible chance of actually seeing most of them, the sunbaes.

The sunbaes were scarier, truth be told--- Boa-unnie scared me the most sometimes so when we meet in the hallways (that happening only twice ever since), I would bow down fully that I could almost kiss the floor and she would just walk by with a bright smile on her face and seeing that was enough to make me happy. Everyday would be like this; when most of them weren’t preparing comebacks or gathering songs for the next ‘big thing’ album. Since there was this big generation gap, the whole sunbae-hoobae thing was very much highlighted.

Hyukjae and I were closer than that, and the status quo hardly mattered. I was in love, and I thought he was too, except he never really said it. There was no written contract that we were in a relationship, but before I knew it, he kissed me for the first time, a little drunk but that was fine, I was too anyway. It was the most magical thing in the world, the most exciting, most enjoyable first kiss--- and that time everything went from irrational to perfect. It was perfect, forever would be (and then Chanyeol came with a bouquet of flowers and said ‘I wanted to tell you I like you!’).

I always assumed that we were something, because he held my hand when he could, when he didn’t have any schedule up. He would come to the dormitory and buy me food, legit non-Korean food (because I missed not eating ramyun and kimbap everyday) and we would eat together, but he would finish everything else first before I could even have my second spoon. When I got tired he would sit with me in the practice rooms and tell me what it was like when he was still in this himself, and he promised me it would be okay--- all of this would pay off. I believed him, and even up to this point, after him letting me down, I still did.

I was a fangirl in love (Chanyeol just went about ranting it to me every time we see each other) because he said I wasn’t really in that sort of state. Yes, there were kisses, hugs and encouraging messages--- they could be something that Hyukjae give off to everyone else, maybe to the others as well, so could that have meant I wasn’t special? But I was very sure it was different; there were fireworks (We watched real fireworks together too!) and he had me over meet his mother. Back in my country, when a boy did that, it actually meant bigger business: marriage.

So I assumed. I hoped. I believed. And I couldn’t even put a single finger on to hate when I caught him hands-locked and giggling and whispering with this other girl, who I hadn’t really seen before in my entire life. It was like a drama scene, because I threw Hyukjae’s necklace at him right in front of his beautiful supposed girlfriend. I yelled at him, because he tricked me, but he explained that I was too young to understand. Too young, he said--- repeatedly even in text messages. The funny thing about this was that it just happened two days ago. And my eyes were still bloating up to this point, in which my eyeliner tomorrow would be another pain.

“Stop it.”

It would be a tad stranger to be hearing someone else’s voice like that in my head but it seemed so real, it became so effective. My tears stopped and I looked at myself in the mirror, glancing at the far right by the door a person. Apparently it wasn’t the one I was expecting.

“Tomorrow’s the day, though. So I have to practice.”

He shook his head, walking to me with his hands shoved down his pockets. “That’s not what I meant.”

I bit my lip, slouching and sitting on the floor. “I’m just tired, okay. I have to do this. Jongin was pressuring me and telling me someday we would dance together on stage and I couldn’t mess up the showcase or else that would look bad on him too. And then Taemin-oppa said that if it were him, he’d just keep practicing all night---”

His hand was over my mouth, eyebrows knitted together. “You weren’t this talkative the other time. Something happened between you and...”

He caught me. Jinki-oppa always did notice the smallest things around him, so attentive to details it made me crazy. He wasn’t the big brother I saw the first time I entered the company: it was kind of raining and he took his coat off and I squealed because I was one of his fangirls; and he said let me take care of you. He always did and up until now, I realized how careful he had been with me.

He looked me in the eyes, passing a bottle of water. “You’re really tired, Patrice. Stop forcing yourself, you’re already in pain.” He would call me by my real name and not the one I was supposed to be getting used to now.

“I’ve always been in pain, anyway.” I sadly said. “Not that he would care.”

He cupped my chin up, his expression growing grave as mine and not a moment later, he took me in his arms and we stayed like this for almost a minute, an hour, a day, whatever even--- I just knew it was so long that after awhile I forgot the hatefulness against the unreasonable relationship with Hyukjae. Yes it was unreasonable, and perhaps there never even was an us in the first place.

“I always thought he loved me. And then I realized I’ve been living a lie.”

Our foreheads were close, and inches more before our lips could have crushed against each other, my heart started thumping stronger and stronger--- out of Hyukjae’s insolence or Jinki’s innocent smile, I really couldn’t anymore be sure.

“There are a few of us who still do, though so don’t cry,” he whispered.

I shook my head. “Everybody hates me. They do, you know? I understand English better than anyone and all the hate comments on Youtube, all the blogs that were put up against our group, all the anti remarks about my selcas with Hyukjae...”

Jinki chuckled. “There’s Chanyeol. And there’s Jongin. Sehun kind of likes you too and your dongsaeng who’s always tagging along. Your unnies love you, and you’re Amber’s favorite. So I don’t see why you need to mope around over that guy. I’m still here.”

I bit my lip in shock, almost holding back the grin. “You’re nice, you know that?”

He shrugged, smugly beaming. “That’s me all right. Onew can always bring a smile on your face.”

“Thanks,” I pecked his check for that, lying my head by his shoulder. Somehow, things are already better, even when my eyes travel to the mirror and know it wasn’t.

He was there, just what Lynde had warned me about, standing by the doorway and keeping that straight face of a puppy that he knew I couldn’t resist easily. He watched as Onew caressed the side of my red hair, and in so many ways I kept wondering if he felt the same intense jealousy I had, same sinful kind of possesive lust, and not the fangirl type as Chanyeol defined it that time I also had when I saw him and that nameless girl. I wished so much that he was, so much but before I knew it, he faded into the shadows and walked away

My heart still shattered by Onew’s side. It wasn’t enough. Perhaps it never had been.

.......

We Got Married: Baekhyun/IU

wintercreamed — Thu, 03 May 2012 08:13:42 GMT

Title: We Got Married
Pairing: Baekhyun/IU
Genre: Romance/Fluff
Rating: PG
Summary: When Korea’s younger sister IU finally gets married to the warm vocalist of rising group EXO-K’s Baekhyun, things start to get a little out of ordinary for the variety program.
► I have no idea what I’m doing but I absolutely would be very happy if I see these two together in WGM. I mean Baekhyun has this personality that I think would make any variety program hilarious and IU, come on. You know you’d love to see a duet from them, because I would do too.
Anyway, just like this one done by firequakes, I’ll just be doing snippets from the whole thing. I might also do more for the rest of my EXO crackships, who knows. ~~*cough Luhan, you’re next cough cough*~~
Unbeta-ed, because MS word isn't cooperating with me. Ugh, painful doing the html codes my back hurts. I might turn this into a full-length variety program, but... we'll see.

*gifs not mine*
* * *

I. The First Meeting

She comes out of the van in her plain jeans and a cap over her loose ponytail. It is a morning in May 2012 and she looks up at the building they’ve parked. She grins widely as her very attractive manager also gets off the van himself.

“It’s IU! She’s finally in the show!”
“They grow up so fast.”
“I wonder who her husband would be.”

“SM? I’m marry... marrying...someone from here?” Gasping and stuttering, she asks and he nods, pulling her inside as her feet nervously refuse. She looks at her phone and all the clues that give her with 'he’s someone you’ve met before and he’s in your age group'. All the artists from this company are ones she actually met before (not that very helpful in easing her anxiety) and her mind keeps on going back and forth for the ones who haven’t done WGM yet. Well, there are still a whole bunch: ones from SHINee, DBSK and Super Junior not included since they’re a lot older, and then those from EXO the rookie group.

“It’s Key-oppa, isn’t it?” She wonders out loud as they enter the hall.

“Nope, try again.”

“Minho? Oh... Taemin-sshi! We’re the same age,” she continues guessing. “If he’s not from SHINee, then... from EXO? Oh, oh, it’s Kai!”

“That makes you a noona, you know that? And no, it’s not any of them,” they both chuckle as slowly nearing one of the practice rooms; she can hear feet shuffling and a bunch of shared whispers here and there.

The door opens and her heart just can’t be sure if it should just stop or pump a little more. Upon seeing the cameras, the boys had the widest beams in the world (wiping their sweat off most of them) except for one now, hiding behind the curtain in his sweatpants, his face totally unpainted with the famous eyeliners.

“Too young! Look at those boys!”
“You're an ahjusshi to her so be quiet! You’re just jealous because IU’s in it!”

The rest of EXO are clapping their hands, and messily adding their personal comments about this like, “He’s been talking about it all night and can’t get it out of his system!” and Chanyeol yelling, “Oh my god, it’s IU!”

She bows her head as he comes out now, smiling awkwardly and looking away. “This is a surprise.”

“Baekhyun’s mute! Stop scaring her, dumbass!” D.O out of the blue adds.

“Hi.”

“Hi yourself.”

Please introduce yourself.
Hello, everyone (grins). I’m Baekhyun from EXO-K! It’s only been a hundred days since EXO debuted but now I’m in this show. (sighs) I hope you give us a lot of love.

Did you expect it to be him?
I didn’t know what to expect, actually (smiles). Baekhyun is a... nice singer for someone who trained less than a year before debuting.
(PD: You’ve done research of your husband?) (laughs) Ah, it’s not that. (laughs) I just heard it when we were there. And... and... (laughs) I really, really was not expecting that I’d get paired up with him.(stares into the camera) I hope we do well together.
(PD: What was your ideal type again?) Someone who's easy-going and... smiles a lot.

II. New Home

With two huge boxes twice her size maybe, IU enters the bedroom, her husband playfully wrestling the pillows on the bed.

“I need... eh, a little help,” she asks and Baekhyun gets off at once, running towards her and taking the top one off, their eyes catching a glimpse of each other. He smiles in apology, the girl moving pass him without anymore words.

“They’re starting to look awkward.”
“PD-nim, they’re children. They should have two beds.”
“Shh, we’ll have you replaced if you don’t keep quiet.”

Sighing, wife settles on the bed, arms outstretched and eyes closed. “I’m so tired. I didn’t know we had a lot of stuff. Do you think that was enough?”

He laughs, putting his box on the other side and getting on the bed with her. She flinches a little, making room anyway, adapting to him being around her. His gaze is always so unwavering, so focused. “You did well today though. The living room looks already pretty. I think we still need to fix some stuff in the kitchen. And... I bought you something when we went shopping.”

“He got her a gift and they’ve met each other only for a week!”
“Husband is so nice, isn’t he?”

“A present?” She turns to him excitedly, Baekhyun still on his back, looking above him as IU stares into his eyes. “What’d you get me?”

He chuckles, getting out of the bed and pulling something underneath. In excitement she waits, eyes growing big as he faces her with a piece of pink notebook in his hands. Her eyes seem to twinkle. “Oh.”

“This is for you,” he shoves it into her hands, his goofy smile and averting eyes enough to make the girl blush fully. “Since... your birthday’s coming.”

She picks it up, and scans the first few pages, and they both laugh together. “You know we’re making the show look totally awkward.”

“It’s not my fault,” he shrugs sitting on the bed, his back on the headboard.

“It’s practically all your fault,” IU scoffs, crawling next to him. “Your first variety show and you’d go ruin it!” She adds, still admiring the notebook. “But... I think this is lovely. I’ll start writing here from now on.”

Baekhyun smiles for himself with the caption below that says, “Good job Husband Baek!”

Tell us about the apartment after you’ve transformed it.
She did most of the job (smiles). I know I should have done something at least, but most of the time I tried helping, she’d tell me, go take out the other boxes or... the grocery items from the car. And that stuff (laughs)
(PD: She’s starting to sound like a real wife, don’t you think?) (laughs) That’s true... I was kind of thinking that way too while we cleaned a little.

Were you expecting something from Baekhyun that time?
Absolutely wasn’t. My birthday’s in a few days and we won’t be shooting so I guess he must have took that chance to give me something.
(PD: We can allow you to go out on a date if you want, just the two of you on your birthday) (laughs that she nearly falls off her seat) Oh dear, I mean... (giggles) he’s probably too busy by that time, they’re promoting much these days and my album's coming out soon.

III. Meeting the parents

It isn’t anymore a surprise the next morning that Baekhyun is flat on his bed, looking tired as his cell phone rings endlessly.

His roommate here in the dorm gets up and throws it to him without hesitating, stirring the man awake. “Yah, Chanyeol-ah!”

“It’s been ringing for ages, dude. It’s your wife,” he says before snickering out of the room.

He gets up lazily and answers, “Yeah?”

“Baekhyun-oppa,” because she has started using the oppa now. “Where are you?”

He yawns before immediately realizing he has taping today. “Oh my god, today’s the day isn’t it?”

She laughs. “You idiot, I can’t believe you forgot. Get your butt here, everyone’s getting impatient. You can drive already, right?”

“Better than you don’t worry,” he jokes, rubbing his neck and getting out of bed. “You live within the Gyeonggi province, don’t you?”

“She must be drawing to get the nervousness out of her.”
“Baekhyun looks like he’s going to perform on stage in front of a million crowd.”
“They’re definitely scared.”

The door opens for them, a younger man about his height answers it and bows his head, and yelling by his shoulder, “Mom, noona’s here!”

Baekhyun inhales deep and IU notices this so she slips her hand into his as they enter her home. “It’ll be all right. They’re not going to bite.”

He smiles at her coolly which gives away the lie. “I’m fine, really. Don’t worry.”

She giggles brightly before her own parents coming from the other room, her mother ahead followed by her husband, dawdling by the staircase. Beaming, she runs to her mother first, hugging her tightly then extending her arm to her father.

When the attention falls on him, Baekhyun automatically bends his body to a full 90 degree, arms by his side and at once adding, “Good morning.” IU parts from her parents and stands proudly beside him.

“We’ve been watching you on TV,” says her father enthusiastically. “It’s so glad to finally meet my son-in-law in person.”

He grins, still nodding and shaking their hands. “Yes, it’s wonderful meeting her parents. She really takes after you two.”

“Jieun’s really pretty, isn’t she?”

Baekhyun eyes his wife in the most surprised manner, and then she leans to him, punching his chest. He ends up chuckling and putting an arm over her shoulder. “Of course she is.”

Her father seemed very nice.
(sighs) To be honest, (smile) I thought I was going to die. I now realize how difficult this stage of marriage is, when you go and visit her family yourself and you can’t help but try to be perfect because you’re afraid they’re going to tell you you can’t marry their daughter (laughs). But I was so happy he was nice to me. Jieun helped a lot.
(PD: Calling her by her first name, now?) Her mother insisted that I do so, and it feels weird but I like... (smiles) I like calling her Jieun. It stages up the level of relationship we have.

He says he likes calling you Jieun.
(pouts) I don’t have a nickname for him, so that’s disturbing me a little. I thought of it once and asked myself if Bacon was fine but fans already call him that. I want a nickname that I can only use on him like how he’s the only one, aside from my family that uses Jieun (smiles).
(PD: Special names, and so do you consider him as family since he uses Jieun instead of IU) (laughs) Aigoo, he is my husband.

They sit together in the round table, Baekhyun between her and her younger brother who is two years younger than her as the parents are across them. They have fish for lunch and he can’t stop bowing his head in thanks and grinning his usual grins that IU puts her hand on his arm and he turns to her at once, a little to fast also that her eyes widens at the centimeters that keeps them parted.

“Yes?”

“Relax, okay?” she whispers too softly that not even the camera can hear.

“Oh whispering while having lunch.”
“Can we zoom in more on them? We can’t hear them.”

He nods, smiling and inhaling before taking a piece of his kimbap and feeds her, which she immediately takes a bite from. Her brother starts coughing as her mother beams at them.

“So... where did you grow up from, Baekhyun?”

He gulps, before looking at IU for backup. “I... I grew up in Bucheon, not far from here.”

“Finished high school?”

Proudly he bobs his head. “Yes, in a boys school, apparently.” She looks at him incredulously, their eyes meeting in a quick spark.

Her father laughs. “Jieun graduated from a girls school.”

“Anything else while you two are married? How does it feel having our lazy daughter?” questions her mother as IU scowls.

He chortles, covering his mouth with the back of his hand. He turns to his left and sees her, waiting there again to hear what kind of remarks it is. “I think she’s a wonderful wife. I want to take care of her all the time.” She bursts into laughter, poking his shoulder for it.

“You should go to college together,” suggests her father. IU continued refusing. “After all this fame thing.”

“That’s a wonderful id--- ” by his lap something hurts, a part of his skin pinched, so he bites his lip and shakes his head. “If Jieun ever wants to go to college, I will go with her.”

“Promise us,” says her mother and his eyes widen. That isn’t part of the script.

“I’ll try to do my best.” He leaves it as that.

The cameras switch off and it ends from there the episode but the two continue to talk in whispers, smiling and sharing jokes among themselves. After an hour or more, he starts helping to keep the kitchen tidy, getting the plates into the sink and the rest over there.

“You don’t have to, you know,” says his mother but he still insists because he doesn’t feel like sitting alone in the living room with her dad.

“That’s all right. Jieun and I will be washing the dishes,” he adds politely.

“They’re not filming anymore so it’s really not a problem.”

Baekhyun grins. “That’s okay, umma. I really want to help."

IV. The Date

“They’re too young to be dating.”
“You’re not her dad.”
“Even if I wasn’t I’d say they’re still too young.”
“That’s why they’re the maknae couple of WGM.”

It’s already almost seven months, seeing each other gets a little harder even during filming because of their hectic schedules: IU’s tour and then EXO-K’s been preparing for recording and flying back and forth to China to support their counterpart.

But it’s all right. A movie date seems fine for a couple who are in their late teens. They’re still teens, still babies as others consider them, especially the viewers so if ever they give off these stares, the MCs would start squealing themselves. As intense as they give off, they will end up laughing even more.

Both of you were wearing couple hoodies.
It was all his idea honestly. I said I’d wear something different and then he goes saying, ‘same color, same color!’. He does aegyo more than I do when we were out.
(PD: So why the color purple?) It looks feminine, I know. I told him let’s wear blue. But he said, no. ‘Jieun must wear something cuter than that.’ I had no choice, he was attracting attention from the ladies (laughs)
(PD: Jealous?) (frowns) He was doing it on purpose (laughs).

She said you have to stop attracting the saleslady.
(laughs) I had a feeling she was infuriated by the time I got out of the dressing area. She crosses her arms and bloats her face a lot. She doesn’t like to wait either.
(PD: She said she wanted blue but you wanted purple.) I prefer her wearing purple so that it’d be cuter.

He puts his arm over her shoulder as they both drink off a strawberry smoothie, entering the theaters now.

“Your arm is heavy,” she shoves it away, but he keeps on doing it every time so she stops walking, glaring at him. “You’re very annoying today. First the hoodies and now the arm.”

He shrugs still drinking off the almost empty bottle. He smiles and takes out his hand from his pocket, waiting for her to reach it. And she does, holding his hand tightly.

“Have you dated before?” he wonders as they enter the cinema.

She giggles. “Of course. And you?”

“Nobody wanted to go out with Bacon,” he jokes. “So this is my first.”

IU wipes a small grease by his cheek with her thumb. “You’re lying to me again.”

They take the seat in the farthest back, the line completely empty, and the camera staying on the line below them. He pulls back the armrest that separates them, so that they can raise both of their legs.

“They might go kissing while the cameras are down.”
“That’s not happening.”
“You’ll never know. They’re kids. They’re full of passion, you know."

The movie lasts for more than an hour or so, a romantic comedy that bored IU to death. The cameras weren’t allowed for more than ten minutes tops, so when they switched on in the end, the crew finds her already lying on his lap, Baekhyun crossing his arms and also tilting his head in daze.

“Oh... the movie’s done?” she wakes up, stretching and getting back to her seat. She shakes her husband who still doesn’t even move a muscle. Giving up, she rests back and stays in that position for the mean time.

She fell asleep on your lap.
(smiles) She just arrived from Japan and she was tired that day. I hadn’t realized I was tired myself until the end of the movie (laughs). She really needed sleep.

“Call me oppa,” he suggests as they take a stroll by the playground and the time just flies forth to nine thirty.

“I don’t want to,” IU answers.

“You’ve got no choice, I’ll stop calling you Jieun.”

“You can’t, you promised Mom.”

Baekhyun finds his way to the slide, his wife sitting on the end and staring at the starlit sky. It looks majestic.

“Then you have to call me something.”

“Baekhyun,” she giggles, as he sits across her on the bare sand.

He scowls. “That doesn’t sound special at all.”

“Chagiya? I never called anyone chagiya before,” she suggests.

“Do... do... you want to call me that?” His blush seems redder even in the dark.

Nodding excitedly, IU stares back. “Or yeobo? Which one?”

“I want something that’s distinct.”

She falls back, getting a clearer view of the night sky. “Baekhyun is a pretty distinct name.”

“But everyone calls me that. And don’t you think my wife should think of a better nickname than the fans?”

She stands up, an annoyed expression on her face as she walks back, Baekhyun taken aback by this. He follows her while laughing and taking her arm but she won’t turn her back, not once so he goes in front of her, opening his arms. This makes her stop indeed, lowering her head.

“I want to go home, I’m so tired.”

“But chagiya, I want us to have more fun!” He said energetically.

She pushes him but he is still. “Really you! It’s bed time.”

He pouts, taking her hand now. She doesn’t take it back, instead smiling and looking at him sadly. “You make it impossible to hate you. Been testing my acting skills with this. How was that PD-nim?” Okay!, the man behind saying.

“Do you want me to make you some chocolate milk?”

“With cookies,” she says happily. “Baekhyun-ah.”

“Oppa? Yeobo? Come on....” Baekhyun almost pleads, Jieun burying her face near his neck as they walk back in the cold night. He feels the sudden rush so he can’t help but put an arm around her.

“Baekhyun’s a special name to me. And it always will be.”

V. Wedding Photoshoot

"They're such a stunning pair."
"Like a real wedding."

He extends his arm around awkwardly, wrapping it by her waist as she leans close to him.

“Do it more naturally, Baekhyun-sshi!” tells the photographer, snapping photos endlessly at the two of them, pouting and smiling. He shakes his head. “You two are adorable. So give me adorable. Lie down on the floor, you two.”

As instructed, they do what is told, lying next to each other as IU’s white gown make her look like she has come out from a fairy book. He blanches when she lies close to him, snuggling herself into his chest in wait, and his heart just pops out too fast it’s uncontrollable.

“Perfect! You look like puppies! Now, Baekhyun, put your hand by her arm, and then look at her. Look at her with yearning, with love.”

He does what is told like a good boy, gazing into her deep eyes and getting lost in them. There are no words exchanged between them but he feels lucky and happy all of the same time, as he can feel her breathing close to him.

“Do you think this can ever happen someday?” she whispers.

He smiles, planting a kiss on her forehead as the cameraman push through with this idea. “Are you wishing for something like this?”

She doesn’t say another word, still enjoying the moment as it lasts.

IU looked very comfortable and the pictures turned out perfect.
(laughs) I think she looked gorgeous that time though. And I’ll never forget it, I guess. It felt... well, very relaxing, very... nice. It was great, I mean... IU by my side... The pictures turned out beautiful.

You looked gorgeous says your husband.
(laughs) He looked human that time so yeah, we’re even.

VI. Final Night

She sits on the couch in their living room, hugging the pillow with Baekhyun lying on her lap. They are both undeniably silent, no one is talking.

“The marriage is going to end by 9:00. You’re free to do whatever you wish to do for the remaining time.”

“IU looks like her cat died.”
“She doesn’t even have a cat.”
“Exactly my point.”

“Remember when they said we’re too young to be in this show?” Baekhyun speaks, reaching out for the fringes of hair falling on her face. She remains quiet. “I think it’s because we’re too young to be attached. And handle our emotions.”

Biting her lips, her outer image falters and her eyes begin to leak. “Aish... don’t say that.”

“But it’s the truth. Two more hours, we still have a lot of time.”

She begins crying. “I’m telling dad on you. He told you not to make me cry."

He gets up and wraps her in his arms, trying his best as well to keep his tears. “We can’t be doing this for two hours. They’re taking away our apartment.”

“And the bed and the fridge!” she beams, her face squished in his hands. “But I’ll be missing you the most out of the things they’re going to take."

He goes to her ear and whispers something, like they always do and somehow the camera doesn’t catch on what it is (just like all the other whispered conversations). She sobs upon taking out from her backpack and shows him the pink diary from the first few episodes.

“Dear diary, today I’ll be a good wife to my husband.” She flips to the next page. “Dear diary, today I’ll be a good wife to my husband Baekhyun. I want him to feel special. I want to be the best wife.”

“Baekhyun’s crying.”
“The boy can’t keep the tears anymore.”

“Dear diary... “ She sniffs, while opening the last page of the notebook. IU leans to him while they remain on the couch, his arms around her, his head by her shoulder. “It’s already the 429th day of our marriage. Tomorrow will be the 430th, and we’ll be separated. I want him to know that I’ve never been so happy and sad at the same time and all these emotions are making me crazy. Baekhyun is making me crazy.”

He manages to chuckle. “What else?”

IU sighs. “I don’t think I’ll be anywhere safer, anywhere loved than being close to him.”

How’d you feel when she was saying these words to you.
(wiping his tears) I wanted to... hold her closer and never let go. I didn’t want it to end at all. I’ve never... (laughs while crying) It’s just that... IU... Jieun and I... it’s too... unreal right now. I want to go back.
They say you were too young to be in WGM.
(still smiling sadly) That’s because we’re too young to handle being separated. And it’s true. It’s... it’s too hard on both of us I guess. It’s different when I wake up tomorrow to find out that he isn’t going to be there with me anymore.

***

We Got Married's Maknae Couple reunited!

After weeks of the concluded successful season of We Got Married, a variety program that aims to portray married life, EXO-K's fan signing event last August 13 becomes the means for EXO's Baekhyun and singer IU to be reunited.

The singer's surprise attendance startled almost everyone, most especially her virtual husband Baekhyun.

She came first to Baekhyun and asking for his autograph on a diary that appeared during the filming of the program. This according to fans brought tears to both of their eyes and also attention from everyone else.

One of the members Chanyeol says, "She was covering her face when they burst into laughter. Before we knew it, Baekhyun asked her to sit with us in the far end. She refused at first but overcame the fear."

Reactions of netizens and fans range from jealousy to shock, with questions still raised to whether the two had really planned it or if they were in fact in a relationship.

.fin

In the Free Fall

wintercreamed — Wed, 02 May 2012 14:04:19 GMT

Title: In the Free Fall
Pairing: Kris/Tiffany
Genre: Romance/Angst
Rating: G
Summary: I’ll be better off when I hit the bottom
► For falsefallacy, my angst mentor. LOL just kidding, but you're one of the best damn angst writers I know. Mentor me. Waffles from D.O (>O_O>) ###
Just a drabble. Inspired by this which was a song many of my friends actually liked singing when we were still... eh new to high school.

There is no slightest hint of care on her face that moment she wakes up and finds him fiddling with her hand. The world suddenly is finished, suddenly stopped, suddenly dimmer in the gaze he throws at her but she doesn’t understand. It’s not like she will though, because right now there’s nothing more confusing than her, the noona, saying, “Have you seen him?” in full English, in a language he fully can understand unlike the lopsided ones he has to get through everyday.

He pulls back his lower lip, tongue somewhat unable to reply and surprisingly he still answers, “Siwon, you mean?”

The reality starts to sink in, to settle by her limbs that she is taken aback, eyes widening to see herself strapped in this white bed, and in this white room, and ironically a Kris who she sees before her still looking paler than the flowers by her side.

“Oh my goodness, what happened to me?” She still speaks in English, because it’s probably the only way they can get close to understanding each other.

He’s been waiting for her to wake up and seeing her old self again beats the weary. He smiles cheekily, lowering his head. “Car accident on your way to the office. Not really much of a few scratches. But you’re all over the internet."

“I am?” She questions again and he nods obediently, shifting his legs from position one to position two every minute he catches her looking at him. He can’t keep still, can’t keep up as she starts talking again nonstop and sometimes it’s really nice to listen but paying more attention at the detailed stories is hard work. Especially with Tiffany. Just most definitely. You’ll never be bored, and Kris pretty much likes this entertainment.

Even when he knows this kind of moments never lasts, Kris tries to enjoy them; after all, the girl’s just been through and accident and still needs rest, so he adds, “Hey. You keep that mouth shut and sleep, noona.”

She pouts. “Noona, again. A year difference, nobody even cares about them, you know.

Kris starts laughing. “Apparently here in Korea, they do. The boys while training always use hyung-deul a lot. It scares me."

“Don’t use noona on me, I feel old,” Tiffany answers, burying herself deeper into the sheets. “Where’s my phone? Have you seen it?”

It generally translates to her very first question, the very first one that asks him whether or not Kris has seen the other man. Slowly and a little bitterly, he takes it out from his pocket and opens it, getting views of the inevitable. Somehow glancing at a certain Jessica lifts his insides but still having his name on it and 15 missed calls mean other things.

Shyly he hands it over and she fidget with it for awhile before handing it back. “Guess Siwon can’t make it visiting me today. You won’t go out any time soon, right Kris? The girls are too busy too.”

“I won’t.” But he wants to anyway.

Still Steps

wintercreamed — Mon, 30 Apr 2012 11:20:07 GMT

Title: still steps
Pairing: Taemin/Sulli (Taemin/Krystal; Kai/Sulli, Kai/Krystal)
Genre: Romance/Angst
Rating: PG
Summary: It would have been better if I’ve learned from the beginning. But I didn’t, did I?
► Dedicated to aoza, who triggered the angst bunny.
~~Don’t worry falsefallacy, I’ll come up with your angst fic soon.~~
btw, the fic's syle kind of run backwards and I haven't particularly tried this kind of writing before. Past tense in between, present ones in Kai and Sulli, indicating that it's really the present.

There never is a rule, written or spoken anywhere as she knows, that happens to say you aren’t allowed to cry. Even as babies, humans cry, not because they want to, but because they can, out of the need of something. Crying, it’s probably the only thing she can think of right then and there when she knows she can’t fix things anymore. And that happens just about every time. Even when she tells herself, promises herself that she won’t cry anymore, she still does, and it gets worse too. She even thinks it’s already a problem, anxiety disorder or something –whatever the fuck it is, it isn’t like anybody cared. If other people sing or paint or write to express the woes of their everyday lives, Choi Jinri prefers crying over those things. It’s easy and doesn’t require much talent either.

Flaws, they are always there and day by day, people are starting to see them. Jinri tries to be the perfect daughter, the perfect best friend, the perfect everything--- and that she has been there one point in time --- but now everything seems to be wrong and falling apart. She looks up at the fair blue sky and wonders how exactly it starts to be this way.

“Eh, you all right?”

She smiles. “Yeah.”

He doesn’t. “Doesn’t look like it.”

Jinri sighs. “I am all right, Jongin.”

It isn’t particularly romantic, cloud-watching she thinks, but it’s actually worth passing the time by as Jongin likes to sleep under this weird looking tree just after every break and she finds it soothing, a dreamy kind of soothing and he usually likes to spend it with her (instead of the other boys in the company).

They both lie down, heads touching each other (almost but not quite because of a rock in between). For some reason she misses someone; as the hazy dragging cloud passes, Jinri reaches for the sky with her hand, and waits patiently until she falls asleep.

“Everything I’ve ever wanted.”

“You’re too young to be in love.”

“But that makes two of us, now doesn’t it?”

She missed him. Taemin was ahead of the two of them, Jinri and Jongin, because he got to debut now, in a group and he was the maknae, and they were raking in money so fast it made the other groups jealous, the sunbaes and trainees jealous. Who would have thought ‘Noona, you’re so pretty’ could be the biggest thing in a few weeks? Certainly not the boys, but Jinri was proud of him. She said so herself, when they’ve met one time in the staircase.

They were already awkward then when he debuted, in those blue skinny jeans and loose sleeveless top and some shoes that glimmer in the dark. She made fun of this fashion a day earlier and received a quiet frown.

“Congrats on your debut, Taemin-oppa.”

He smiled as both of them sat on the staircase, and not where they were supposed to be by that time of night. “Soon it’ll be your turn, right?”

Jinri nodded. “Right. The end of the salvage.”

Training always was referred to as salvage, only by the two of them, as anybody’s manager would scold them if they heard such kind of disgrace. And then as he was about to get up and turn back to the party, she had her hand gripping on his wrist.

“Hey, I thought you said nothing would change.”

“But they did,” he coldly replied, pulling slowly away, and hesitant to put his hand on her head like how they used to do it. Then again, this kind of gesture seemed already reserved for someone else. “We tried, Jinri.”

“I know.”

In fact, there wasn’t a day that they didn’t particularly try. Jinri was mostly the one doing all the harder work, always giving time for the other despite the treacherous pains of getting into stardom and basically the coming of age. It was that she was 13 while he was a year older, but that didn’t matter too much. They would have lunch together, Taemin walking Jinri home after practice. At school (since both went to the same Middle School and that time training got even more salvage-y) too, they would share bottles of water to drink if the other one ran out, and lend each other pencils or brushes for art class. A big brother thing the others always assumed, but Taemin and Jinri chose otherwise, they knew what it felt like already.

They wanted to do so many things for each other. Jinri made an endless list (Taemin always found it to be quite long) of all the things they were ought to do, and yet they never got to doing any of them ever at all. Which brought Jinri the first heartache and Taemin even saw her cry.

“Don’t... do that.”

“Do what?” She wouldn’t look up, her hands holding the crumpled list as the tears wound up in the brim.

“Cry. It’s... really pathetic.”

She shook her head, gazing at him. “Yes, and you know what else is? This!” She threw the paper away. “You promised me we’ll try to finish them. We’ll try even when we’re tired. Because we love each other. And doing one was enough. But it’s been almost a year since we’ve started going out and not one. Not one of those pathetic things was ever done.”

He puffed his cheeks, getting up from the coach. “I’m going back to the boys’ dormitory.”

“You always run away,” she said right after, and Taemin before leaving turned around, sighing and planting a small kiss on her head.

“Sorry. I really am sorry. We’ll do it tomorrow,” he told her, arm over her shoulder. “It’s just that we’re both tired and we’re always busy. It’s not going all too well for us. I’ll be debuting soon and you know... But we’ll try. And we won’t let anything change.”

He lied to her. Jinri’s eyes couldn’t stop themselves from actually tearing up every now and then, but never when she was around him so that Taemin would always know nothing was wrong with her at all.

Then again, Taemin always knew that there were a bunch of wrong things in the world. He knew going out with Jinri would harm a piece of him he just was too afraid to admit it. That tiny feeling of guilt, seeing Jung Soojung the sweetest princess of their company and not going out with her instead, was completely ignored. Jinri was the one closest to him though and he always treasured every piece of memory and time he spent with her. He loved her, or as what he might have portrayed, because he always took care of her and he didn’t want her hurt or crying or anything for that matter. It wasn’t pity that brought them together, or at least that was what he liked to hear from himself. He found that --- at one point in time --- he had geniune feelings for her too.

It was a pride thing for Taemin, he knew, that he had to be with Jinri or else it was nothing. Or else perhaps, Soojung wouldn’t even give a single glance in his direction. He wouldn’t get noticed that fast, and since the two girls actually were the best of friends, he had most of the time looking cute during dates and he would sometimes request Jinri to call up Soojung to spend the afternoons with them (when practice was still loose).

Jinri liked to watch, how Taemin always moved in between her and her dearest friend, watching the fireworks together and watching the other sunbaes perform live in their concerts. It was fun really, at least for Taemin and Soojung and they let each other laugh out loud and have fun. At 12 Jinri hardly knew why she felt a little out of place, like another third wheel, so her grip on Taemin’s arm as they went outside was stronger than before, almost like a precaution. They were dating for a month, and still insecurity strike like a bad name when Taemin agreed to walk Soojung home (Jinri was asked to go with her Heechul-oppa after their concert).

Jinri didn’t mind. It wasn’t like her best friend would steal Taemin. Unless of course she went by the name of Jung Soojung.

Kim Jongin had this thing for Soojung in ages and everybody in the company knew that. Jinri knew that too, so she kept Soojung on the run about this new kid that got in recently. He was a new installment and he was just as great of a dancer as Taemin. Everybody knew that. When SHINee debuted, Jinri and Taemin were no longer together, and the lines went even more blurry when she cried by the staircase on one of the buildings in SM, and he already left for home without even walking her home like how they used to, Jongin comes out of the practice rooms, looking rather exhausted but more or less fine.

She was crying again, and nobody said she couldn’t. That was when he sat across her, just staring at her like the friend he was supposed to be (they weren’t close at all, Jinri even thought) until he cleared his throat.

“I’ll make you ice cream if you stop crying.”

Jinri looked up at curiousity and somewhat, in the dark and in her hazy vision she saw Taemin again. She bit her lips as she closed her eyes again, and saw none other than Jongin, his backpack by his shoulder. He handed his handkerchief to her in which she declined at first but accepted anyway.

“Thanks Jongin.”

“Come on, you look tired. Let’s get you home.”

“I don’t believe in love.”

“But you like Soojung nonetheless, don’t you?”

“I like you more now.”

It is at the top of the list, cloud-watching or star-gazing whichever is preferrable and more applicable. It may have appeared like a dream now, but as she opens her eyes someone else’s hands is over hers and they feel somewhat safer, secure and for once days are brighter and they can’t help but know and accept that this will have to do now. This little romance they entertain themselves, even when as they do touch Jinri thinks of Taemin and Jongin thinks of Soojung, and it’s a love thing they both know of each other yet never really cared too much to change it.

She learns that it's okay to cry since Jongin says that she can do it when he's around. It's better this way, keeping each other company even when the strings are just loosely attached.

Speechless

wintercreamed — Sat, 28 Apr 2012 13:47:31 GMT

Title: Speechless
Pairing: Baekhyun/IU
Genre: Fluff
Rating: G
Summary: It's because he likes to keep track of things and then forgets to.

He isn’t one to be counting but he always likes to keep track of things and keep them in order. He makes sure to list down grocery items Kyungsoo would need for the week, never forgets to wake up the other members when they sleep in too late, and brings extra shirts and towels behind the set after every performance because Jongin sweats just about every minute, times two than a normal eighteen-year-old.

They’ve only talked a few times up close and personal, but that isn’t an excuse right now. Suddenly he forgets how to speak when she is around, and it isn’t because he is awkward or blushing or anything for that matter, so as Chanyeol likes to take notice of those things, but because he thinks that he is wasting her time with these rookie anxiety problems and then she will hold her hand out, patting his shoulder, saying, “Oppa, fighting!”

He doesn’t like to get caught by the camera when she is around him. People like to make issues, he learns in this business coming from sunbaes, and when people get hinted on something going on between exchange of encouraging words and glances, they’ll go bringing in lead boards to concerts with the couple’s name (e.g. HunHan, after seeing it online).

And then the second chance comes, where she is the MC again for Inkigayo and he has this itch of hiding under the makeup table instead.

“Would you just go talk to her already?” Sehun insists and he starts chuckling elusively, sighing in a corner.

“You’re not going to die.”

“I will so,” Baekhyun answers Suho. “I mean... what will we talk about? There’s a hundred things that’s probably on her mind right now, and I’d go ruin everything and be the complete idiot I am like last time. Do you remember the last time when she was this close to me and I couldn’t say a single thing, and she was like, ‘You’ll do fine, oppa! You always do!’. What is up with the oppa... err.”

Chanyeol shakes his head as the noona behind him curls the last ends of his hair. “Don’t you like it that someone calls you oppa?”

He shrugs, eyeing himself in the mirror. “Am I even oppa material?”

Bursting laughter from all the boys leaves him sighing. “You guys are no help at all.”

The door opens partially and her head pops in and Baekhyun’s insides just die a little more to see her wear those tiny shorts, exposing a part of her legs in while her hair hang loosely around her shoulders. “You guys are coming up next!” she announces.

“Oh, IU! We were just talking about you!” Chanyeol says, Baekhyun slipping to the other side of the room behind the door where her blind spot would be.

She smiles shyly, bowing her head. “About me? You boys better hurry. I just came here to inform you about it. 1, 2, 3, 4, and Sehun. Where’s... Baekhyun-oppa?”

Suho points with his lips behind her and she gets inside instead, seeing Baekhyun cover his face in shame --- the boys laughing every ounce of stress off with this boy. “What are you hiding there for? You’re up in ten minutes. Your clothes will get dirty.”

He rubs the back of his neck, biting his lip and lowering his gaze. “Hey, Jieun.”

“He’s the only one who seems to call IU that,” Kyungsoo adds loudly, and they end up chuckling some more.

He shoots flying daggers as his eyes at his friend before sighing coldly as IU left the room in an instant. Baekhyun starts making up the list in his head about bringing along tape during Inkigayo performances.

Wonderwall (1/2)

wintercreamed — Tue, 24 Apr 2012 16:01:04 GMT

Title: Wonderwall
Pairing: Luhan-Nana
Genre: Romance
Summary: If you expect nothing from anybody, you’re never disappointed.
A/N: So it’s usual. It’s cliche. But the pairing isn’t, so give me the chance to make something of my crackship, okay? This is actually my first pairing on a GUY BIAS-GIRL BIAS basis, so it might be bad because I can’t write well for my biases. Double that, this is a disaster. Wonderwall is a song from 1995 and the title was taken from there. So.. yeah. :) It'll be in two parts. :)

Luhan has zero expectations. He isn’t one for it either, because he doesn’t like giving people disappointments, and having to be expected to be fairly good at something. Perhaps it is the trust issues he has over himself and on other people; or it can be also, because he feels that there is no room for them in his seldom vacant mind.

He can’t deftly empty his mind for that matter too. He’s Chinese and stuck in a bus traveling somewhere from Incheon to Seoul. Seoul is nice, he manages to convince his parents that he wants a degree in Finance. So here he is three years later, getting off from the corner, hands shoved down his pockets as he plods towards his apartment. This old thing is rented by his parents for his convenience in college and despite that it isn’t that classy, this will have to do. He doesn’t like to choose either, because he doesn’t like allocating time for complains. Luhan lets bygones be bygones, and people to being themselves, because if they were up to him, wouldn’t that ruin the whole I’m-not-expecting-anything motto?

“Looks like new neighbors,” he can hear one of the boys as he reach the fourth floor. Or apart-mates, as one of them describes it. Dragging his footsteps and slowly fiddling with his keys, he watches (out of boredom now because nothing beats to watching these kids go) the two boys leaning (Luhan finds the thought of pushing them off the ledge amusing) at the landing window that faced the city.

“Looks like a girl,” says one, and they snicker together, Luhan rolling his eyes and entering that little place he considers home. He makes himself some coffee, heats up some meat loaf, and goes about idly with this weird setting of a dinner before burying himself in his books on taxation. It is his last year after all, so he better make most of it.

His younger sister calls him tonight and he feels rather homesick already, as the child asks whether he will be coming home for Christmas. It is mid-way October, and he hasn’t even realized this.

“I’m not sure,” he says, playing with the half-truth. The girl on the other line whines a little, before Luhan himself starts chuckling. “Gege will try, okay?” Before he knows it, his father is the one talking, telling him to quit joking around with the girl.

“Yes, dad. I’ll try,” he responds briefly and more seriously. “I need to study now. Got exams tomorrow. Bye.”

And he doesn’t wait for further qualms or rants, because he feels sleepy. The caffeine takes effect, lengthening his endurance of drowse up to midnight and more, he isn’t sure anymore of the time as the numbers and case analysis fall back to his mind.

Then there is this small squeal of a scream, just close to his ear maybe, that stirs him to reality, and he jolts right up, shaking his head from the blurry vision and looks at the clock. He must be just really tired, or the coffee he drank is not much of a good pill for keeping him up. It is only nine, which he remembers clearly the clock going pass twelve before dozing off. He is still on page 39 of the book, and he sighs impatiently, closing it and throwing it to his bed before a knock is heard coming from his door.

He doesn’t get up yet because he finds it too annoying; after all, Minseok or Yixing’s interruption will have to wait when he wakes up, and when he starts caring. And they usually just leave when he doesn’t answer. Weird thing is they don’t leave, because the knocking just gets even more impatient, and so Luhan forces himself up (grumpily) to see what is it those two boys want.

“What?” he says, so annoyed that his voice goes a bit higher than usual.

This is why he doesn’t like expectations, doesn’t like to base off things that occur on routines or really, just about anything because of disappointment. Though it isn’t one of the boys, Luhan eyes impatiently the girl, as tall almost as he is, her lips curving to a smile as she bows her head in greeting.

“I’m sorry to bother you at this hour. And I’m sorry if ever...” she stares at his messed up hair and him rubbing his eyes. “I bothered your sleep or anything... er... can I borrow you for a minute?”

Her words, he suddenly looks up. Borrow him, what in the world--- “I’m...not catching on. What?”

She smiles lightly, pressing her hands together as she stares at her bunny slippers. “There’s this enormous rat in the closet. My clothes are new and it’d be bother if they were---” She stops because he isn’t hiding his smile of mockery, a sign at how ridiculous she must have looked to him. Sighing, the girl continues. “If it’s ever okay to ask some help catching it before I have my things unpacked, that would be lovely.”

Luhan holds his laughter and tilts his head. “I must look like pest control right now.”

The girl, biting her upper lip and raising her eyebrows, is clearly displeased that she nods entirely, without anymore saying a word and starts leaving when the door closes behind Luhan. That is one neighbor she needs to avoid, old grumpy boy, who probably lives lazily upon his parents income.

One failed attempt down, she tries the next door, again starting to knock before someone, that particularl someone as mister grump coming out of his door, holding what appeared to be a spray and gloves, a helmet over his head. He looks at her, armed with every weapon he has, and somehow the girl smiles: both at how ridiculous this is and how she feels rather safer now. A very weird knight in shining armor, she decides.

“I wouldn’t bother Yixing if I were you,” he says (warns) her.

“It’s just a rat,” she shakes her head, running across the hall. He undeniably follows. He doesn’t know why he does, though, or if he likes doing this or not. It is like having the damsel in distress stuck in a tower of some sort of fairytale and Luhan is tasked to go rescue her, except he isn’t sure which way to go, or where the hell is that tower even. She, this girl in her sweatpants jumping every time that creature runs from one box to another, doesn’t seem to be what he imagined at first. Then again, it will have to do.

-o0o-

He wakes up to the symphony of the rain outside, finding himself sitting on his desk (the book wide open and still at fucking page 39). He is trying to remember what happened to him last night, and gathers little bit of the rat chasing and screaming just across his place. The clock beside him addresses his spare time before classes actually start, and that is in ten minutes, so he prepares to leave and finds a sticky note by the door on his way out.

Thank you, it says.

He stares at it for a moment and remembers the new blonde girl from last night. Hasn’t she said thank you a million times already? Once is fine, Luhan thinks but he shrugs and slips the note into one of his notebooks as he starts his way out, locking behind the door.

On his way down since his time is quite limited, he abruptly remembers the weather and chases back his steps again, hardly noticing that someone is going his direction. Unfortunately, and maybe also fortunately, it’s her. From last night. The screamer who thinks he is her personal pest control. Except now she is wearing tiny denim shorts.

She frowns, wiping her boots from it. “You should watch were you're going.”

He raises his eyebrows as a sign of apology (take it or leave it, she finds it more annoying and insincere). “You...uhm, heading downstairs?”

“To my job apparently, yes,” she snaps, moving past him and hurrying down, Luhan still eyeing that umbrella she has at her left side.

“Do you have a car, or do you walk?” he shouts, when she is a few steps down, already in the second floor. She looks up in the little face where she sees only his face, and his eyes, and those wondering lips.

“I ride the bus, it’s raining!” she yells back in the same intensity, and Luhan reacts at once to following her before they reach outside, and she springs open her umbrella out, a white laced one that sealed transparent on the upper portion.

Both of them start walking towards the stop, both quiet, and both very much in a hurry for fear of being marked absent. The first one comes and it isn’t as full as they expected it to be so they get on, the girl from the apartment still going first as Luhan continues to go with her.

She glowers. “You have to stop stalking me. I understand we’re neighbors and all but if you want my name, I can always give it you if you had asked.”

He flinches in turn as they seat next to each other, Luhan shaking his head in defiance to that idea. “Not really, so don’t...flatter yourself.”

“Im Jinah,” she says right after he finishes his sentence and he looks up, she doing the same thing. “Although people rarely call me that.”

“Should I call you that?” he wonders, folding his arms across his chest.

She shrugs, crossing her legs. “Up to you, I don’t mind. In fact I miss hearing people call me that, so you can.”

“Luhan,” he tells her.

“What type of name is that?”

“Chinese.”

“Oh,” she says, curving her eyes to the other direction. The rain is pouring rather hard, and some parts of her coat is actually wet, while he seems to be all right. This will be a long ride to the office, she can tell.

And so it starts.

-o0o-

I need help

He forgets exactly his reason for helping out Jinah every time she needs something. Luhan isn’t particular with dates either, but it seems just two weeks pass and he keeps doing this favors for her (and what kind of girl will ask her neighbor to buy her sanitary pads when she’s having those red days. Luhan actually laughs this off and whines at how she should be going herself for these stuff, but then again, the rainy weather isn’t at all that helpful) but Luhan does not complain. He doesn’t have a very valid reason to complain, nor a very valid one why he is doing this.

So when one of those sticky notes is slipped by his doorstep that Saturday evening, Luhan picks it and goes out in haste.

Confused in every way, he starts knocking at the other side, room owned by the only girl of the hideous fourth floor. She opens widely, a towel over her hair and face, bathrobe over her body, and Luhan wonders what in the world can she be up to right now. Neither one of them moves, because he thinks it’s a bit rude to enter without her knowing its him and Jinah isn’t quite sure what to say. So they are both awkwardly quiet.

“Dude, would you take that thing off---” As he pulls the towel off her face, she squirms away, distancing herself and bowing her head.

“I’m not wearing makeup right now,” she says afterwards, going about in circles from here to there, and he wonders how she can see where she is going with that thing over her face.

It is his fifth time entering her place after the pest control incident. The smell of perfume always lingers, which he assumes to be coming from the bedroom all the time, and it is a lot messier (because she is quite tidy he sees just like himself) now with all the branded clothes around the floor and a few dresses. He walks around them, gazing at each one, hands deep in his pockets.

“You... going out or something?” he asks out of curiousity, hearing some noises in the bedroom. She likes to whine to herself a lot, annoying little whines, he observes.

“Yeah, and I can’t decide which dress to use,” Jinah answers, running back to the living room with a cap over her golden brown hair now. She is still wearing her robe, and Luhan, being twenty-one, can’t actually help himself from looking at the curves coming about, and the long legs in which he hasn’t really taken in particular notice before and her neck... the bones looking so firm and slender.

He looks away slightly flushed in the cheeks but still composed. “Listen, I came here to ask some questions.”

Jinah goes to the mirror, pulling a bag from the side and opening a kit with all her accessories on it, applying foundation and cream all over her face, and all that stuff that made her look more like a doll and a goddess. “Questions? Like what?”

“Give me a reason again why I’m doing all these favors for you,” Luhan admits at once, sits on the couch in wonder. He is so blunt sometimes, he can’t help it himself.

She giggles brightly, the one that reminds you of rainbows and unicorns (Yixing’s personal favorite happy thing) and turns to him, her eyes bordered already with the mascara and eyeliner, taking off her hat along with this. She looks a bit like herself again, Luhan thinks, and even prettier.

“We’re friends,” she answers sweetly, paired with a smile before she faces the mirror again and applies more red blush on her cheeks.

Luhan doesn’t think that it isn’t enough, so he stands up, a little awkward, and he sighs heavily. “You can be friends with Minseok and Yixing, the other two boys on the floor. They’re really nice kids, if you ask me.”

She nods and hurriedly enters the bedroom again. Luhan is on standby, because he doesn’t like wasting his talk in which no one actually cares, and he still wants to clarify his purpose of being sort of Jinah’s personal assistant.

Jinah comes out after five minutes (very quick for a girl who actually takes over hours preparing herself) in that red halter dress; signature brand like her shoes that come with this package he then assumes, or something else --- definitely something else, Luhan eventually says and sees her ribbon on her head to be the cutest thing on a lovely puppy like her.

“I’ve tried making friends with them though,” she explains right after tying her hair up. “But they seem aloof, and they want to just laugh at me. Don’t get me wrong, they’re wonderful people but needless to say, you’re as good as a friend so I ask you all the time. And you easily agree so I take that advantage to the most.”

He smiles, lowering his head. “Listen, I have to get back and work on a project. I won’t be able to help you at all, with...whatever it was you wanted me to do for you.”

Jinah bloats her face, pouting. “Hmm, this is troublesome.”

“What was is it you wanted me to do?” Luhan questions because he doesn’t like lying, and feeling guilty, and having both of those inside his system.

“Just answer my calls for the next two hours, that’s all,” she manages to say, spraying herself from perfume. “I’ll be home by eleven or twelve, but by then there won’t be any so you can go back to your little cave.”

It smells like strawberries now, and peppermint. Oh and other candies, he can’t decide which one is more alluring –her dazzling body or that fragrance.

“Like I’m your receptionist,” Luhan says.

“Exactly,” and she nods perkily, pinching his cheeks. “I’m sorry for making you do this. Do you want something in return?”

“I can’t think of anything in return right now,” he accidentally speaks what is on his mind and at last feels embarrassed. “I mean, yeah... you have to stop asking for me all the time. I’m not here to serve you oh greatness.”

“I promise, just tonight then,” Jinah grins, nodding. “My boyfriend and I are meeting up after months now. He’s been in France and he said he wants to tell me something. I’m so excited I can’t wait to meet him!”

Luhan comfortable hops on the couch, the phone to his side, as he holds the remote and watches TV. “Your boyfriend?”

Jinah picks up her handbag. “Yes. I think he’ll propose or something.”

His mind seems to refuse this understanding of her not being single, and his thoughts keeps swaying back and forth like a fish’s tail, driving the waters here and there. Expectations, always the damned for having them.

Jinah gives off a bright smile. “I’ll be back early, I promise.”

“I’ll be here... I guess.”

And so he waits for her. Because it’s a Saturday and he has nothing else to do. He doesn’t like to trust on her words that much but somehow he does, because when the clock hits twelve, he starts to worry.

Only five calls are answered by him and he tells them all to call back tomorrow when Jinah is around. The last one he receives rings on a quarter past midnight, and he immediately yet sleepily stir alive when he hears a girl’s voice on the other line.

The girl isn’t Jinah though, but she says wait for thirty more and she’ll be home at once.

Luhan unfortunately waits an hour more before he hears the door banging. He has fallen almost completely asleep on the sofa before he dashes to the door and finds a girl about Jinah’s age too, holding Jinah’s arm over her shoulder.

“Take care of her for me, please?” The voice is from the girl on the telephone earlier. She looks terrible, both of them actually, but the other stranger looked more tired than himself. And so Luhan, out of pity, picks up his blonde friend from her as she apologizes and leaves Jinah to him.

He ends up opening her tiny bedroom –flowery and Barbie-themed, and there are sticky notes of rainbow colors everywhere, but he doesn’t want to be distracted by it now –and puts her to bed. She isn’t asleep yet because she groans, covering her eyes with her arm as the light ceaselessly shone upon them.

“No... Chulyong, we were supposed to get married. And you said...” she murmurs the other words, some of them are even unfamiliar to Luhan anymore.

“You had too much tonight.”

Her eyes under the light are prettier without the pretty glitters, Luhan agrees and maybe because she has wiped them off now. She sits up straight, eyes nearly closed and mouth lopsidedly opened to blab about many things he hasn’t heard about in years (and this is amusing). He is sitting with her now, because she grips on his arm tightly.

“Eh Jinah, get some rest.” She doesn’t smell like alcohol either. What is it that she had put on that makes her feel still so... herself.

“Wait, don’t go!” She pleads as Luhan stands up. “Luhan-sshi, please don’t go.”

He doesn’t. Because she uses his name. So he lets go of the door knob and stays for a minute or more, and he doesn’t like how he can hear his heart pound so fast, nor his stomach churning.

“Jinah, we’re... not even that close to be friends. We barely know each other.”

She smirks right now, and leans back to the wall, her legs folded and her pillow close to her. “You think you’re so brilliant and all. Fuck you. Fuck him. Fuck that French girl he two-timed me with.” She cackles.

This disheartens him, though he forces himself to sit with her on the bed. He doesn’t exactly know what to say because he is all taken aback by these things that go around him. “I’m sorry to hear that,” he actually doesn’t quite understand himself why in the world is he saying all these things when the matter doesn’t even involve him. Is it because he doesn’t like seeing Jinah in this form?

“They all do that,” she says bravely, closing her eyes. “Go and date models! They’re priceless. They’re amazing in bed. They don’t really care if you’re ugly. They just need their dozes of man power. Yeah, right.”

“You’re a model?” he asks in disbelief as she extends her feet to the ends of the bed and nods.

“I model for various products from cosmetics to clothes indefinitely, that’s my job,” Jinah tells him. “I started modeling two years ago and I didn’t want to go to college because it’d be expensive. They call me Nana in the industry. I planned to work my way to the top and now my job’s pretty stable. I get to be in magazines a lot, too. How’s your life, wonderwall?”

She stops mumbling after a while and her head falls apparently so he lifts up her chin and slowly moves out of the bed. Luhan smiles as he leaves her, switching the lights off and closing the door behind him.

But that is the first time that Luhan starts to hope again and believes in expectations and dreams once more.

(drabbles) If I could fall into the sky

wintercreamed — Sat, 21 Apr 2012 13:31:53 GMT

Batch 2 of the drabble set. Then off to writing 15 one-shots with the prompts. :) And they're sort of shorter than part one.

Not enough
Minho/Krystal
Angst; PG
Prompt: #11 Solitude

“Why wouldn’t you answer?”

Soojung kept quiet. Did he want to hear the truth, out of whatever there is true about this shit she has to put up with, or did he really just ask her to answer his calls? Then again, the latter one seemed rather easier to work out with. She held her cell phone and typed her reply.

“I left my phone at home, sorry.” At least that was half as good since it was true. She did leave it behind, then again on purpose as well.

He didn’t know how to react though, since they were apart, and they hadn’t exactly been going out on dates the past few days, weeks –whatever. And so he doubted if it was really what she meant or she had turned off her phone, or maybe both and then suddenly he just wanted to give up this charade or child’s play as Soojung’s older sister had dubbed them with. Maybe she was right after all. Minho was but a child although older than Krystal, then again, that couldn’t change the fact that the two were both not quite ready for things like these.

“Where’d you go? I was waiting at the cafe.”

She sighed at the message. Nice job on revealing honesty. Her fingers worked its way until responding, “I thought...I needed some time to think by myself.” Soojung wondered when she turned into such a bad liar, when in fact this was her game.

“How do you feel?” It didn’t even take him one second to reply, one look and Soojung felt pierced, shattered completely at the question.

“I’m tired. Are you?”

“I wouldn’t doubt it. You spent the whole day with Sehun.” Soojung bit her lip. They were open, her and Sehun and being with him than Minho was like a carnival. Although the boy rarely talked, Soojung found it amusing the more that they bonded quite well that day, in which also was the day when Minho wanted to talk to her about the two of them.

“You didn’t answer the question,” Soojung pressed on. “Are you tired?” Minutes passed, her head down on the pillow, gripping her phone in wait and pondering whether or not he even wanted to answer that. The waiting stopped when it was night time and she was lying on her bed, pillows beside her and eyes half-way down. It rung and she stared in expectation.

“That makes two of us.”

For a while, despite the fact that Sooyeon downstairs threw an after-party for her new drama, and all of Girls’ Generation was invited, along with a few of her friends and sunbaenims, Soojung pretended to be sick so that nobody would come and start forcing her out of this haven. Right now, she was alone, and never her entire life had she felt solitude slap so harshly like this. He was gone, but then again, he was never even there in the first place.

She was tired, after all. And Soojung pretended to not feel so sad of the break up.

Used to it
Leeteuk/Taeyeon
Angst; PG
Prompt: #12 Numb

His lips were cold, freezing in the winter creamed arena of a park, and she is right there beside him, also unable to move from the cold. There hands were wrapped around each other, just like a movie that was so real yet somehow, Taeyeon thought this was all a dream. It looked scripted, looked so predictable and her anxiety about tomorrow wasn’t making her feel any better.

A kiss, yes coming from your one and only prince charming, the boyfriend you’ve always thought resembled Peter Pan (Maybe because Heechul joked with that nickname for him), was something she needed and so he agreed. The only problem Kim Taeyeon had was that she couldn’t feel it.

She wasn’t growing old, because she was only twenty-four, and that was quite a number for women in love. But where were the fireworks? Where was the spark? Where the hell was all the magic ?

She pulled away first and still feeling numb. He smiled at her, holding her face and saying words like I-love-you and I-miss-you, or was it let’s-get-married, but now everything went blurry. Maybe it was just the cold. Or maybe her heart wasn’t eating healthy.

Maybe she had just grown used to his absence, to his lack of affection that seeing him shift into this manner after his variety program with that young actress, Kim Taeyeon thought everything was bound to be fake. And she numbly understood why this was the case.

Secret Ops
Onew/Luna
Romance; G
Prompt: #13 Pillow

“How was Japan? Did you enjoy yourself? How are you? Do take care of yourself! Were the fans as wild as the ones back in our first time there?” His questions were always a cut of sunshine, that even though she felt her body tremble and succumbing to the pressure, Sunyoung began to smile at his voice.

She bobbed her head in joy even when she knew Jinki wasn’t actually there to see ts. “I feel wonderful. Japan’s wonderful.” And then young Sulli eyed her almost in shock, getting breathing exercises as she sweat. Afterwards she grinned in understanding, “It’s Onew-oppa, isn’t?”

Luna placed a hand on her lips, adding on the phone, “Sorry, Jinri’s a bit loud. Yes, we are quite enjoying ourselves! I’m bringing home a present for you. It’s a pillow. After I stole yours the other time.”

His laughter came and Sulli couldn’t help herself from tuning in. “Ah, you didn’t have to, Sunyoung-ah.”

“Why not? I miss you too much!” the younger girl beside the unnie thumped the side of her head as an excuse to leave, laughing at it and telling Amber and Krystal about the sweet exchanges. Really, Luna wasn’t that type of person to be giving off present.

“I miss you...too,” Jinki somehow looked ahead and let it go, the laughter in the background on the other line. The other girls, his boys, really didn’t have to know what was going on between him and Luna. Hell, although it was unsaid, although matter untouched, they knew where their friendship was going. And they didn’t have to rush at all.

Changing Lines
Sungmin/Sunny
Angst; PG-13
Prompt: #14 Loose

Too loose. That was often how they were described. His grip on her was far from being the over protective boyfriend. Yes, that might be right, he and Sunny had been pals-turn-to-lovers but his treatment on her did change, special consideration all the time on the points that require his understanding. And Sungmin always understood, always forgave and Sunny took that kind of friendship somewhat into the world of abuse.

He loved her so much, Sunny never doubted that. But why did he pull away from her kisses? Why didn’t he prefer to be with her on Sundays? Why was he always the one backing out? It appeared like a chase more than a relationship, and she knew him too well to say that everything would be all right.

She was casted to a musical with one of Sungmin’s dearest friend, Kyuhyun. They were to star together, be romantically involved as partners and Sunny even requested permission from him if ever this was actually worth it. And naturally, being Sungmin, he understood and he gave her that very chance of trying out a musical. He thought this would be a good opportunity and he didn’t want her to miss it at all. He also thought this could be the solution to their degrading romance, if there was romance to begin with. But wasn’t he gravely wrong. It only made matters worse.

This liberty Sunny had often scared her. Kyuhyun, as someone she already knew beforehand because they often hung out (thanks to Sungmin again), was very careful with her, always asking how she was, having lunch with her when got the chance. They shared stories and secrets about each other, more than Sunny ever told Sungmin, her boyfriend of nearly two years.

The bed scene from Catch me if You can was the epiphany that had Sungmin a little too heartbroken for his own good. Yes, it was scripted, it wasn’t real--- but her smile and his laughter was. They were geniune feelings, very real and it didn’t take a genius, nor someone who knew Kyuhyun and Sunny personally to finally see he lost his girlfriend to Kyuhyun, his favorite dongsaeng, their maknae.

I can't
Henry/Amber
Angst; PG-13
Prompt: #15 Clock

“I can’t, hyung.” She says right after he tells her something that to her ears were very unacceptable. The hurt is there, her eyes are suddenly solemn. She checks the clock and sighs, shaking her head. “Let’s forget this, okay? I need to get back.”

Henry naturally refuses. “I can’t just forget this. It’s too heavy. And I wanted you to know.”

She smiles, lowering her head. “You know it’s...impossible. Not while there is this media following us around, there are your fans who are practically screening you guys from getting any girlfriends. And let’s not forget how we’re both idols and every now and then---”

Surprised, Amber stops midway with Henry dropping his lips unto hers. “Give us a chance. We’ll work it out.”

“Hyung...no,” She says, confused herself. “We can’t. I want to, but we can’t. You know... that”

(drabbles) Likewise, I'd do the same

wintercreamed — Sat, 21 Apr 2012 07:10:33 GMT

Afraid to Fly

Eunhyuk/Hyoyeon
Hurt and Comfort; PG-13
Prompt: #6 Flying

She doesn’t move. Which is odd, because she usually is the most active member in Girls’ Generation. But now she is still, and this state makes him remember the golden days back before all the glimmer and all the sweat overpowered them, which now falls like ancient history if it were a lesson in class.

Eunhyuk sees that little girl again, that rather funny and kind-hearted girl who always threw fights wherever she went. Not the literal kick-boxing type, the debate-kind-of fights where she doesn’t give the opponent a chance to see her weak side. He knows her weak side though, and she doesn’t like that either.

She has the tendency to see herself as a mistake, and oftentimes think that, enough is enough (They’re my girls, but I’m making them look bad, she whines to him). She is not enough, never good enough to cut out and deserve fame or deserve the attention along with the lack of it in comparison.

All of them, the rest of them, possess so many qualities that the fans, especially the men, would fantasize about, except for her, Hyoyeon thinks. Why, Taeyeon’s voice is always the talk of the town. Jessica isn’t one of the left outs either: that girl’s spunk and laidback attitude sells pretty good. Sunny, oh hell Sunny can just wink at them and they all die of cuteness; no one can resist that at all! And then there’s Tiffany, whose incomparable eyes make stars look all so dim. Yuri and Sooyoung, with their gorgeous bodies and lovable faces, are what cameras are always after (Hyoyeon finds it believable that if she hadn’t auditioned, Yuri or Sooyoung will have been the main dancer). Yoona’s immense popularity and charming beauty is one of the reasons why SNSD has been scoring tons on charts. Lastly maknae, Seohyun, whose innocence becomes the ideal types of everyone else, is almost the perfect artist.

She isn’t as perfect as the other members. She feels always one step behind even when they have climbed the steps to success together. One fucking step behind.

So she freezes when the spotlight falls on her in the middle of the stage, and Eunhyuk observes from the bleachers. Pop, lock, do some wave! Eunhyuk’s mind is yelling like crazy, and he wishes to shout at her for being so frightened, but if he do so, people will look and people will know it’s him behind the goggles and mask, and when people get interested, they’ll make up issues--- which relatively is the last thing he needs right now.

Fuck it, Hyoyeon. Do anything just don’t stop.

She is very still, eyes-widening in realization that this alone is bad on her image, bad for Girls’ Generation’s image, bad for the company’s image. What is it that make her do this, she really doesn’t know, until she smiled sadly because of stage fright, bowing her head and holding her microphone. Then the lights immediately go off.

He gets off his seat and ventures to the backstage, knocking from door to door in search for her and ends up in the dressing area, sobbing leading him to it.

And there she is in the corner, in her sweat pants, dipping her head on her knees in shame. When he knocks, she hastily stands up, tears no longer evident since, as she says, Hyoyeon is so used to crying, she can quickly cover it up so others won’t have to know.

“What happened?”

She shrugs, taking the bottle of water and drinking. “Got scared.”

“Of what? The crowd? They’re your fans!” he further says, almost exasperated. Really her? It has been five years since they’ve debuted; she has confidence all over her when she takes the stage.
Hyoyeon smiles as though the heartache has disappeared, vanished into the unperceived until it --- that tiny insecurity bug---comes out once more from Hyoyeon’s hard shell. That is her weak side and Hyukjae knows it.

“I’m afraid of my dream, that’s why. I might fail. The higher I go, the harder I fall.”

“Not until you try your best.”

He goes to her and embraces her warmly, like how they always do, and somehow Hyoyeon gains strength.

Before You Go
Baekhyun/IU
Romance/Hurt and Comfort; PG
Prompt: #7 Longing
A/N: Obviously, they’re older here. And pretty much stable.

Now that sunrise budged the souls of most to get up and ready for their daily work, his is still somewhere in dreamland, a paradise where he can go relax and escape reality. She on the other hand is no longer with him there at that very moment, for she is already awake (early bird he often teased) but still brimming with sadness, and Lee Jieun thinks that this will have to be left unseen. She will have to be happy, more or less, at least a smile will do him good. Maybe.

Right now he is quiet, eyes closed while facing her, she pressing her lips together in unmoving wonder. It is morning and tonight he won’t be at the same spot next to hers.

She touches the side of his pale cheeks, and she knows that his eyes will flutter, like the butterflies in her stomach that time, and his arm will be over his head, body from the side to a supine position, pulling with him the sheets. Those sleeping habits she seemed to have memorized seem funny to Jieun that she grins, at last she grins brightly, but only for a second before again the painful truth subsides. He has to go, for or against it, Jieun’s thoughts will not anymore matter.

His eyes finally open, Baekhyun, sighing, turns to see the girl, distancing herself from him while still sharing the same sheets, her right hand inserted beneath the pillow. She stares back into his beautiful eyes in deep deprivation, a sting of longing that has not yet even come.
With great effort, and still groggily, he holds her now, pulls on a hug and waits until his shirt is stained in tears and the apartment filled with childish sobs and sniffs. Baekhyun tries to stay calm, as much as he can, keeping her safe while the morning enters the bedroom and somehow sometime later will separate them both.

“I’m making you cry again,” he tells her, a half-laugh through soft lips at what could have been a happy joke, and suddenly in which she responded with a nod. A kiss falls at Jieun’s temple and she feels, like a wound finally treated, a hole finally filled, a untouched plant finally watered, that everything will be all right.

“Don’t look at other oppas,” Baekhyun adds even more, making her giggle.

“Promise to wait for me, okay? It’s just two years.”

Beaming, she gazes into those stunning eyes that were always so very complacent and trustworthy. “I will.”

Introductions
Zhoumi/Victoria
Romance; PG-13
Prompt: #8 Lights

The endless rattle from one side of the room to another bothers her a lot. Where the hell is Kyuhyun and he leaves her here, stuck in the middle with anonymous people around her, dancing to the beat of the music she has little familiarity. The lights are down, but she can see silhouettes from the other wall all the jamming and bouncing and all the other stuff she used to see in Korean dramas when the main cast visits a night club.

She comes from China, packing with her her tights and books about language, her heart thumping loudly as it has only been a month since she arrived (sure she has made friends and if it’s Kyuhyun and Changmin everyone else is referring to, they are definitely right. They are wonderful, the two snarky kings).

Maybe Kyuhyun will find it funny to leave her lost in this haywire, but Qian thinks it’s utterly annoying. She doesn’t know anyone here, can’t even understand a single word the other people are saying because they talk way too fast and way too excited of some sort.

“Oh, careful!”

She spin at that voice, almost at once hearing that he speaks her native tongue. Somehow, trying to make out his face in the darkness, she nears him and bows her head, replying, “Oh goodness, I’m sorry,” in Chinese with a smile prop.

He, on the other hand, is not able to let such a meeting pass. He grins at her. “That’s odd. I thought you were speaking Mandarin right there.”

She giggles out of nowhere, his own eyes seeing the marvelous new light. “I was. I was. I’m Qian Song.”

“I see you’ve met my friend over here,” Kyuhyun enters the scene smelling of alcohol, Qian can tell. He is looking at the guy for some reason so she keeps quiet instead.

They share a high-five, before Kyuhyun smugly grins in her direction. “Qian, this is Zhoumi. He’s...pretty much like you, too. Gucci bags, shopping, dancing... you know.”

Zhoumi goes red at Kyuhyun telling off new people that way, so he glares. “Of all things to say.”

“I think it’s cute, though.” She chimes in.

Kyuhyun shrugs, raising his hands up as if he has done Zhoumi the biggest favor of his life. “Hyung, I’ll be at the other counter with Henry and Sungmin.” Before leaving he gives Qian a very long stare before smiling. “Knock yourself out, he’s bound to be your taste.”

Maybe you are
Kyuhyun/Seohyun
Romance; PG
Prompt: #9 Reason

Cho Kyuhyun lives normally. He does it in the most pleasing way as possible, and in the easiest way he can (But people should stop getting him wrong –he works his butt off too, and that ‘maknae-status’ is all shit anyway). He pulls pranks on the older members, because he loves them and that’s how he shows his love for them; and he plays computer games like there is no tomorrow. Literally speaking playing Starcraft all night just goes to show that tomorrow is non-existent and the hours pass him like breathes and sighs he will take once he sees he’s on a losing streak.

Cho Kyuhyun is also a social person. Not like Eunhyuk’s way of monkey business, but the ideal kind of socialistic attitude. He drinks, because his Heechul-hyung said before it’ll be good for cleansing the soul, and talks loudly on the phone sometimes when he is at the subway station. It can also be to attract attention that an idol is riding with them ordinary folks as he likes to call them. But it’s nice, he considers after a while of being stuffy inside. It’s all nice.

Cho Kyuhyun is a singer. That secret liking of his just comes after he finishes high school and starts a band together with his friend. Law stinks, but he doesn’t tell his father how rebellious he is of this idea. Having it settled, he enrolls in music instead, because that is his game, and when Kyuhyun’s game rules are changed, he will not be held responsible for throwing tantrums. He sings because he has the ‘angel of music’ in him (Since Yesung is the art-like voice of the group). Most of all, he loves doing it, and there is nothing that makes him happier.

Cho Kyuhyun is a man in love. He has girls all over him, jokes Donghae over dinner. Kyuhyun associates himself to be friends with a lot of women, and it isn’t much his fault why he is so damn attractive. But with that aside, he knows what it means. And when a man is in love, there are powerful forces, and not lust itself, that drives him to be more passionate about being in a relationship. He loves her (whatever it may actually imply since the word love is so broad), Seohyun that is, and though their relationship will be soon held against them by anyone and anybody, they will take it slow. They will listen to the sunbaenims and all the other elders about love, all th quotes and romantic lyrical songs. They will be careful enough to know their limits, and Seohyun is very fine with following rules since this is practically what keeps her so well-rounded.

Cho Kyuhyun has a solid stand. He plays Starcraft all night, drinks with his hyungs all night, and maybe even sing all night, to prove how much sure he is of what he wants in life and why he’s pulling it off a little too well right now. Yet with love, he becomes uncomfortable, only because he is afraid and insecure (a little okay, a little! He will defend once Sungmin teases) With Seohyun he believes that they’ll get out of this box somehow. And maybe she is one of the reasons why he sometimes falter, the image of a bully going to a nicer one when she is around. She can be the reason for him smiling to meet the day, controlling his temper when their stylist noona messes up.

Cho Kyuhyun thinks that maybe Seohyun is his reason, as a gift for following his dream. Yes, she likes to think of it that way too.

That Wedding Dress
Siwon/Sooyoung
Angst, PG
Prompt: #10 White

You wouldn’t know because you were never there. You weren’t there when it first started, when you first met her. Could you remember what she wore that drizzle of an afternoon, or how she wore her hair that time? Could you recall how she simply looked at you and thought she had never seen someone looked like he had come out from a comic book. You laughed back then because you found it entirely funny, but then again, was it ever sincere to you?

That’s right because she would have loved to share an ice cream with you. She would have said I love you, you know, if only you had given her chance, if only you actually were there to give her one.

There she sat in the front row of your wedding, her hands by her lap as her eyes traveled to the back, where your bride –such a beautiful creature she was, Sooyoung had been telling you this for a long time –marches towards you in the altar to confess the vows and be forever with each other. That could have been Sooyoung, you knew very well about how she felt, but you hadn’t given her a chance and dismally ignoring what she truly wanted. Because you were after someone else, and you had little time to entertain her petty feelings.

You and Sooyoung locked gazes after quite some time, and then she grinned so softly, that almost yelled how much she was happy to see him finally having a wish granted. It wasn’t in her to cry, and you know of this secret too. She eyed the white wedding dress your bride has on, and somehow that longing expression on her face makes you blanch.

You took another glance at your wife -to -be and trust God of the fate you wold have to accept. Sooyoung was here to support you and tell you how much this also means a lot (negatively maybe) to her. But that was all, and because she said you and her looked perfect.

Master List

wintercreamed — Fri, 20 Apr 2012 10:07:55 GMT

Master List

*
multi-chapters { > 2000 words / chapter }
☂ - finished | ♥ - on-going/hiatus
NOTE: ALL FICS UNDER MULTI-CHAPTERS CAN BE FOUND IN AFF.

.

The Canvas ☂ - Kyuhyun/Seohyun, Donghae/Jessica, Leeteuk/Taeyeon, Sungmin/Sunny, and other side pairings

Do you think it was all right to have fallen in love with the person you weren't meant to be with?

Perhaps (sequel to The Canvas ☂ - Kyuhyun/Seohyun, Donghae/Jessica, Leeteuk/Taeyeon, Sungmin/Sunny, and other side pairings

Because forever was just a word and nothing more.

Sleepwalk☂ - Donghae/Jessica, Heechul/Yuri

It's all fun and games until someone gets hurt and someone cracks.

Someone Other than Me☂ - Changmin/Yoona, Kyuhyun/Seohyun, Nichkhun/Victoria

Will we stop believing in love just because we can't see?

Stand Still (sequel/back story to The Canvas) ♥ - Sungmin/Sunny/Joongki, side!Kyuhyun/Seohyun
Jinye finds a diary that is almost like an answer to her crumbling future.

Love Me Tomorrow ♥ - Kyuhyun/Seohyun, Ryeowook/Jessica
She had never been lucky at anything until meeting him once again.

Makeshift Day ♥ - Kai/Krystal/Sehun/Sulli, Luhan/Nana, Baekhyun/IU, Chanyeol/Jiyeon, & other pairings
When boys learn how to adapt the way humans do, live like humans do and love like normal humans do.

The Romantic & Idol ♥ - Lee Joon, Noeul, Aj, Chorong, Siwan, Jieun, Hyunsik, Ara
After its successful spin-off of the reality program The Romantic, The Romantic & Idol returns with yet again a new set of idols that will surely have you and themselves falling in love this season!

drabbles { < 1000 words }

Drabble Set # 1 : (7 Ficlets Challenge) sweet as honey - Sungmin/Sunny, Leeteuk/Taeyeon, Yuri-centric, Seungho/Soyeon, Kyuhyun/Seohyun, Minho/Krystal, Onew/Jessica

Drabble Set # 2 : Valentine Vacation - Leeteuk/Taeyeon, Kyuhyun/Seohyun, Changmin/Yoona, Sungmin/Sunny, Donghae/Jessica, Eunhyuk/Hyoyeon

Drabble Set # 3 : Triple Treat Angst - Taemin/Sulli, Kibum/Yoona, Yunho/Lina

30 Days Drabble Challenge:
Set #1 : Chen/Naeun, Seungho/Soyeon, Myungsoo/Suzy, Lay/Lizzy, Baekhyun/IU

Fairy Tale Collection : Sunggyu/Hyomin, Changmin/Yoona, Luhan/Nana, Kyuhyun/Younha, Jinyoung/Ara, Myungsoo/Krystal

► EXO pairs
Cubed - Luhan/Nana
Right now - Luhan/Nana
Flashback - Luhan/Nana
Out of Habit - Sehun/Krystal
Counting Sheep - Sehun/Krystal
Before You Go - Baekhyun/IU
Glances - Baekhyun/IU
Speechless - Baekhyun/IU
Endgame - Baekhyun/IU
my momentary thing - Baekhyun/IU
In the free fall - Kris/Tiffany
my one in six billion - Kai/Krystal

► Infinite pairs
Sunshine by my side - Hoya/Alice

► CNBlue pairs
Stares and smiles - Jonghyun/Sunny

► MBLAQ pairs
Impressions - Seungho/Soyeon

► SHINee pairs
Not enough - Minho/Krystal
Secret Ops - Onew/Luna
Say yes - Taemin/Sulli

► Super Junior pairs
I can't - Henry/Amber
Introductions - Zhoumi/Victoria
Coffee Caramel - Donghae/Jessica
A Single Second - Donghae/Jessica
Moving backwards - Donghae/Jessica
Afraid to Fly - Eunhyuk/Hyoyeon
Strings Attached - Kyuhyun/Seohyun
Time - Kyuhyun/Seohyun
Maybe you are - Kyuhyun/Seohyun
Unnie - Kyuhyun/Sooyoung
Leader's Care - Leeteuk/Taeyeon
The Bus Stop - Leeteuk/Taeyeon
Used to it - Leeteuk/Taeyeon
Lucky - Leeteuk/Taeyeon
The Wedding Dress - Siwon/Sooyoung
Something New - Siwon/Tiffany
Beep - Siwon/Tiffany
Her Hands - Sungmin/Sunny
Changing Lines - Sungmin/Sunny

► TVXQ pairs
Stars - Changmin/Yoona
Perfection - Changmin/Yoona
Unbearable - Changmin/Yoona
Play Pretends - Changmin/Yoona
Disturbance - Yunho/Boa

oneshots { > 1000 words }

► CNBlue pairs
you had me at hello - Jonghyun/Sunny

► EXO pairs
Wonderwall (1/2) - Luhan/Nana
a little piece of heaven (2/2) - Luhan/Nana
here's to everything - Luhan/Nana
socks - Luhan/Nana
How long must I love you - Sehun/Krystal, Kai/Krystal
We Got Married: Baekhyun/IU - Baekhyun/IU
Play Me Your Heart - Baekhyun/IU
Berceuse - Chanyeol/Jiyeon
Letters from Romeo - Chanyeol/Jiyeon
we're a bit infinite - Chanyeol/Jiyeon
she's a doll, a catch, a winner - Chen/E-young

► Infinite pairs
tell me your dreams - Myungsoo/Suzy

► B1A4 pairs
Northern Wind - Gongchan/Krystal

► MBLAQ pairs
Didn't Have to - Seungho/Soyeon

► SHINee pairs
Throwing Punches - Minho/Krystal
Still Steps - Taemin/Sulli, Kai/Sulli, Taemin/Krystal
remember how you loved me - Taemin/Sulli
Hopeless Romantic - Onew/Sooyoung
If we weren't a dream - Onew/Sooyoung

► Super Junior pairs
Still Far - Donghae/Jessica
Mine and Yours - Donghae/Jessica
buttercup don't break my heart - Donghae/Jessica
Maybe in Love - Donghae/Tiffany; Donghae/Jessica
my favorite mistake - Donghae/Yoona
Unusual - Eunhyuk/Hyoyeon
Why the sky is blue - Eunhyuk/Tiffany
Angles and Stitches - Kibum/Yoona
My heart - Kyuhyun/Seohyun
Old and Faded - Kyuhyun/Seohyun
one in a million - Kyuhyun/Seohyun
Next Time - Leeteuk/Taeyeon

► TVXQ pairs
Athena - Changmin/Yoona
18th Floor Balcony - Changmin/Yoona
Misguided Ghosts - Changmin/Yoona
The Verdict - Changmin/Yoona
Definitions - Changmin/Yoona

(drabbles) Do you think of this often?

wintercreamed — Tue, 17 Apr 2012 13:59:36 GMT

To be quite honest, I really don't know what I'm doing. I gathered a lot of prompts, me and my sister and came up with 30 ones. This will be fun, then.

Perfection
Changmin/Yoona
Angst; 233 words; g
Prompt: #1 insecurity
A/N: Random thoughts. Really random.

He loves her and she knows it. The early morning kisses to the ones left at night that lingers until the dawn, she knows how much Changmin is in love with her, and he will not have her replaced for anyone, for anything. That is how much she trusts him, his heart devoted only to that of Im Yoona’s, the beautiful, the charming, the innocent. She can’t afford to think otherwise of him, because she knows if ever she does, it will grow; when it does grow...well, she can’t think of the worst consequence of it yet, but she knows it’ll be bad indeed.

The problem is she can’t help herself. Not when Changmin is always seen with the other woman. Although he completely tells her that it is nothing, it is work, it is just another colleague (Yoona reminding herself his use of ‘it’ instead of she), and therefore she has no reason to feel left out.

Doubt should never be existent in her vocabulary, because that is faulty. And Yoona is known to have lesser flaws as she ages.

Then again she feels insecure. So long as that girl is there with him, by his side, Yoona has the tendency to falter the image of a beautiful, charming and innocent girlfriend she is even when she knows jealousy isn’t in her job description. But with Changmin, of course, that can change.

A Single Second
Donghae/Jessica
Angst; 163 words; g
Prompt: #2 Bitter
~~(HAPPY BIRTHDAY JUNG JESSICA I LOVE YOU. :* Donghae still does too.)~~

His hand brushed hers. She jerked at the momentous feel and eyed him. Her heart did some jogging, and so did his, but neither one moved at any rate. They are both still. Frozen. Waiting, perhaps who the hell know

Along the touch was the heartache, but it wasn’t like they could tell each other these qualms like how they used to before. Friends maybe to the outside world, the people that surround them, but every time he would brush his hand against her own, it always left a soft petulant spark, just a blow of the past –and it took a second more, a minute, a day, a month or a year to let the glitter fade dimly.

She could never say hold me like the last time, nor could he promise to make her smile more on normal occasions. It is over, but the mark engraved, the spark felt, the intense gazes and secret hand brushes were long over once upon a time; but still bitterly remembered.

Cubed
Luhan/Nana
Romance; 600 words; pg
Prompt: #3 Bright
A/N: Well, what do we have here? Crack again for exo. Oh well.

He walks out with the boys, all twelve of them sluggishly entering their vans and going back to their dorms. Contrary to that, the boys seem never tired, he notices this, and when they arrive at their new home, the hype still doesn’t go away, the talking, the chattering. Although he has Sehun always (sneaking/lurking) beside him, asking, ‘Hyung, how do you say this in Mandarin?’, Luhan found it a too stressful now that they have been going back and forth, then back again to China. Two months pass, earning more fans, and some of Jongin’s shitload complains around the dormitory, Luhan feels that it will take some time getting used to this.

“Guys, there’s a girl at the door,” Tao informs them as he enters the living room. The rest of the boys quiet down, of course aside from Baekhyun and Chanyeol’s bickering about who has the bigger bed. Suho stands up, curious.

“Is she from the media or something?” he asks and Tao shrugs, the leader unsure if it is also because he can’t understand his Korean that well.

“SM?” Kyungsoo wonders, passing the book to Kris as he starts standing up. All of the boys start to take interest now at the so-called visitor maknae has introduced, except for Luhan who sits by the window sill, watching the sun go down from here.

“Wait, wait!” He can hear Suho struggle with the boys, fighting them off and saying they shouldn’t be behaving this way. Their manager has not informed them of any indoor interview, let alone in their dorms, literally.

They open it, with a lot of interested faces, to find a rather stunning blonde-haired woman in what appeared like a school uniform. She is rather familiar they all decide then, that even Minseok speaks up and says, “I know you!”

She bows her head at them. “I’m sorry to bother you guys.”

“Not a bother at all,” Kris adds, before Sehun stares back to see his most silent hyung approach them in his aloof state and squeezes himself to the door. Maybe he has heard her voice, maybe he has gotten curious--- Sehun still pays attention as Luhan drives to the front of all the EXO boys and holds out his hand.

“Did you bring it?” he asks her and she nods, smiling brightly.

From her hand bag she pulls up the Rubik’s cube, mixed just like how the boy would want it. He then gives her a soft smirk.

“You scrambled it for me. Again,” he comments and looks up at her. “Thanks for bringing this, Jinah. I was wondering where it went.” “You can always buy another one, what’s the---” Chanyeol starts from behind before Yixing plasters his hand over his mouth for ruining the moment.

She shrugs, playfully pushing his shoulder. “Your boys are watching us. I feel embarrassed.”

“They’re just jealous,” he teases, looking over his shoulder. “Because they should be minding their own business!” Suho takes the action of gathering the others back, Tao still escaping and wanting to watch more.

Luhan seals the deal with a bright smile. “I’ll introduce you to them next time. They’re...deadly these days. Wait, is my Korean right?”

She giggles. It is like watching a drama. “Tell her you love her!” snickers a very loud Sehun, before Luhan shoves his hand backward at the voice, and pushes them all back inside.

“See you around,” she bows her head then walks down the hall. She is a celebrity like himself, and he thinks, aside from his new brothers, she’s one who understands him most.

Impression
Seungho/Soyeon
Romance; 192 words; g
Prompt: #4 Candle

“Where?”

“Almost there."

“Yang Seungho, I will tell on you if this is one of your pranks again!”

“It’s not, just hold...me.”

“I don’t have a choice now, do I?”

He led her to the balcony of his apartment where tonight the stars shone brighter than anywhere else. The flawless dusk is brighter than anything with the moon half-painted somewhere just higher from the peak of the horizon.

He stopped and so did she, her hand slightly shaky he noticed, but when was it ever not, especially that she was unsure of what was going on around her. He smiled at this before taking off the blindfold, Soyeon rather more dumbfounded than he expected she would be.

The table was set, with a meal she had been dying to have, the food she particularly liked. Of course, it was Seungho after all, so he knew. He knew a lot of things about her and it wouldn’t be a wonder if she actually enjoyed tonight.

He kissed her lightly on the cheek. “So? What do you think?”

She scowled, hands on her waist. “You call this romantic? There are no candles, you idiot!”

Say Yes
Taemin/Sulli
Romance; 212 words; g
Prompt: #5 Flowers

She tenses, heaves a great amount of oxygen before she folds her arms by her chest. “What are you doing?”

He doens’t look at her. If he does, he know he’ll lose and probably beg on his knees if he must just so Sulli forgives him. That is always the case with him, Minho often teases, because he lets the girls push him around. But that isn’t true, Sulli often reminds him. She is usually the one who turns and gives in, starts saying sorry rather than playing proud.

Since this game of apologizing is new to him, Taemin is still in very way stiff. The bouquet of white roses appear like it cost a lot, and his pretend-proud stance makes him look troubled. He doesn’t know what to do.

“Really, what is this? You know I don’t like flowers.”

He scratches his auburn hair, annoyed really, but still avoiding glancing up at her. “Will you stop acting like madam Soojung and just say yes, I forgive you Taemin?”

She giggles at her best friend’s nickname rising, running to him despite his arm reached out and the flowers ignored. Sulli’s embraces are the best, he then grins, holding her completely as well and feeling lucky that she isn’t that too moody today.

(drabbles) oh and the music's playing

wintercreamed — Sat, 14 Apr 2012 13:36:46 GMT

Title: Out of Habit
Pairing: Sehun/Krystal; pg 828 words
Genre: Angst
Summary: When your expectations fail at the last moment of hope.
A/N: This has been on my mind for quite some time now and well, I thought I'd give the couple a shot.

She was expecting this. She was hoping that he would somehow apologize.

So when she saw him by the doorway, a faint sparkle came in all things around her that felt like this was yet another one of the dreams she was so fond of getting. Maybe it was, because he looked so handsome, far more than he actually was, and because of this Soojung averted her eyes at once, away from the boy who was now standing in front of her.

He also had had that strange habit of avoiding people’s gazes, and even in this dream-like setting, Sehun did appear like he was not at all hurrying to make things right again, nor trying for that matter. He seemed off, stiff, and his usual self of course, Soojung observed. But that was what made him possibly more attractive. And he knew that of course too, after hearing the rumors that she had been crushing on him, and all that stuff which spread like wildfire at school.

She crossed her arms, leaning against the door jamb, the boy scratching his head and other possible things to be embarrassed about. And she didn’t mind.

“It wasn’t really...her,” he finally said, not a slight obvious sweat.

Soojung nodded knowingly. “The one who told me to back off?"

Sehun pointed to the inside of her apartment, and without energy she agreed in letting him in. They sat together on the couch, comfortable yet uneasy, both silent before Soojung thought of getting him something to drink or whatever, other excuse just to stand up and not get too close. The moment she did so, Sehun cleared his throat.

She faced him in wonder. “What?” Sehun will say he is sorry. He will, and he will mean it.

“You’ve heard about it right?” he again defended, and Soojung rolled her eyes before heading for the kitchen. A sad excuse maybe but she pulled whatever food there was left in her cupboards, a bag of chips and then picked the apple juice cartons Sooyeon had saved up for tomorrow.

She tossed it to him from the counter, and he grasped for it easily, plus the juice. She crossed to the other seat and raised her legs, still gazing at her visitor.

“Kai told me,” Soojung answered, still waiting that he’d say it. She was waiting for the impossible she knew. Why would he apologize in the first place? Was it his fault though, that Soojung fell in love with someone who could not return back the feelings? Was it wrong that Soojung fell in love with Sehun, who was off-limits for having someone else, for having someone already waiting up on him?

“I just want to clear it out that she wasn’t mad at you,” Sehun said and he saw her eyebrows twitch. “Okay, maybe a little. But other than that, those hate messges you’ve been getting, that back-off-give-me-a-good-reason-why-I-should-forgive-you was not her.”

He stabbed the carton with the straw and sipped it innocently, still looking away. Soojung remained solemn for a couple of minutes before Sooyeon arrived from her shift at the hospital and Soojung thought Sehun should leave. She sent him to the door, with no more words exchanged, with her older sister teasing and saying he was cute, but Soojung shook her head and went to bed.

Nope, it never was his fault, except Soojung, out of pride, and maybe a little out of habit, knew so well that she deserved to hear an apology. But she wouldn’t be getting it. She wouldn’t be getting the sad alibi of him visiting her, just like the dream she had, because in truth, Sehun never cared about her, or her petty feelings that would remain obvious for the outside world, for his unnamed girlfriend, for him, but it wasn’t like he would defend Soojung.

The accusations he denied to his girlfriend, pfft, Soojung usually scoffed more. They broke up--- Sehun and his girlfriend, maybe as what how the story goes, Kai told her this, Sulli said this, and it went on until everybody else seemed to be in it. But then here was news that they were together again, and Sehun was still protecting his girlfriend right damn hard until he took the idea of lying to Soojung, of saying that she wasn’t really the one who threw those knives. And what other excuses could have Sehun exposed?

It wasn’t like he shared something with her, just a simple date perhaps but long forgotten, long buried (not maybe for his girlfriend who would be carrying that scar to her grave). Then again, she should have backed out when she could, not stuck in a game where she was walking on lose ends.

Soojung knew of course that Sehun wouldn’t care, wouldn’t dare bend a simple rule for her, when she naturally would do the exact opposite for him. And that was why, she had her eyes wet that upsetting night.

Title: Glances
Pairing: Baekhyun/IU; pg; 371 words
Genre: Romance
Summary: This will be the start, you and I.
A/N: My personal crackship of course. If anyone actually watched EXO's debut performance in Inkigayo, you'll see a very hyperactive Baekhyun who kept looking at one of the MCs. Oh yes, I see with my OTP potential eyes. And I'm very sure I'll be able to write more for them soon.

They were told to stay in front, Chanyeol already knowing his spot at the back, Kai and Sehun inseparably beside him. The other two, Baekhyun noticed, were standing next to him, their leader of course and D.O, who nervously stammered with the script instructed. He laughed, because he couldn’t help himself, and he looked sideways upon hearing someone else’s sweet laughter. To be so sure, the one in green, gave him a brighter smile and he just took it as a warmer welcome.

And every time she talked, he would lean forward, try to convince himself that he was just showing the world the image he was ought to portray: friendly, warm, smiling Baekhyun of the rookie group EXO.

The microphone was passed to Kai, and before he knew it, he had to sing a small sample of their debut song MAMA. Again he stole one more look at the pleasant looking MC before going all out. That was nice, maybe she could have been impressed.

The lights went down, the cameras off, and his feet were dashing towards her, the girl talking animatedly to her other two MC friends. A little frightened, but still rather curious he tapped her shoulder, the fairy-like princess was prettier up close.

“Hello,” he bowed down totally, showing respect. “I’m Baekhyun. And you are?”

Hara, as he known to be a member of KARA, giggled brightly before leaving the girl to this guy. She greeted him with a smile, alive and so vibrant. “Hello, Baekhyun.”

"May I know your name?” But Baekhyun already recognized her from before. And with this he blushed.

“Lee Jieun,” she answered shyly. “People know me as...”

"IU,” they chorused together and he chuckled. “Yes, yes, I know. You sing pretty.”

“You’re not bad yourself,” she said, lowering her head at him as she started walking away. “See you around, okay?”

He nodded, waving while his eyes followed her leave the stage, Chanyeol’s arm hastily bouncing on to his shoulders. “Yo, Suho said manager wanted to talk to us. D.O is in for so much trouble.”

Baekhyun, a little stunned, couldn’t do much of it now; stealing glances maybe could be just the start of something far better than awkward introductions.

Didn't Have To

wintercreamed — Mon, 09 Apr 2012 09:39:03 GMT

Didn’t have to
Seungho/Soyeon
Romance; PG
People change, and they can’t simply without a reason.
A/N: I honestly don’t know what I’m doing, I’m so sorry. I recently went aboard this ship. They’re just too impossible not to ship, I guess. So pardon for this, it’s my first time writing for the couple, with inspirations from hypothermal and firequakes and also the rest of the shippers. I will forever bow down to their amazing writing. Also, a lot of thanks to aoza for the margins on this.

“Some people are meant to fall in love with each other, but not meant to be together.”
-500 Days of Summer

i.

She held on too tightly to her mother’s fingers as they drove past the silent highway to a different town. She was seven, young and bewildered all the more that they had to move back to her father’s old village. This decision wasn’t that hard to cope with, for a seven year old, that is and she didn’t have too many friends back there anyway. But she held on to her mother, curling by her side as the seatbelt flattened them together like pieces of sardines. She was growing big, her mother even commented and she wasn’t anymore their baby girl like the last time. This made her cringe everytime, though.

They both assured her that she would like the new place, quiet suburbs area, with tall fences dividing you from your neighbors. Houses of different kinds were prompted from left to right, different colors of rooftops too, and it seemed pretty quiet until she went out of their porshe shyly (her parents were both busy pulling large boxes from the rear and had instructed her to go inside the house with them but she refused for it seemed so tiring), and before she knew it, her soft bum was on the gray pavement, head swirling slightly.

She could hear her mother clicking her tongue, and her father’s strong hands stayed on her shoulders. The light from the sun gleamed as she opened her eyes, squinting and fairly seeing now the silhoutte of another foreign person, a boy with such prominent dark circles under his seemingly delicate eyes. He was staring at her, in total wonder, apologetic to her parents of course. He took off his helment and picked up his skateboard.

“I’m sorry,” he said to her and she stood up now, dusting off her skirt and running straight to their home, shutting the door behind her so loudly, her father sighed and her mother giggled. She peeked from the window, on her toes, as the boy continued four or five times having his body arched to a 90 degree bow.

She disliked how her mother seemed to pat the child with a very cheeky smile, and her father disheveling the boy’s hair, because this made her think that they wanted him for a son instead and not her for a daughter. That scared the likes of her, but of course they wouldn’t want that stranger who just had her knocked down to be part of the family. Then again, she knew her parents always lived out of her expectations and made their own stories.

So Soyeon always disliked Seungho.

ii.

She wasn’t jealous of Yang Seungho, though. That sad excuse of a boy had too many flaws and shortcomings to be worth her fussing time. He lived next door, and almost every other Sunday, her parents would invite his family over, and they would have lunch (or supper) together, sometimes the other way around too for it would be his family’s turn to have them over, and it seemed quite ordinary and fine, except they usually brought up the subject of her ‘accidental-coincidental meeting’ with Seungho. And that topic made Soyeon absolutely annoyed.

His father was an engineer, an old drinking buddy of her dad back in college, and their mothers clicked at once about embroidery and gardening. She liked neither of those things though for a girl, and she particularly threw away dolls and broke their legs, not out of sheer jealousy that she could not be that perfect, but maybe because these things scared her at night, and only Seungho was aware, out of overhearing from their mothers

“You’re afraid of dolls?” He asked her, nearly snickering as he tugged on one of her pigtails. It was her birthday already, eighth and Seungho was still behind by a few days being seven. She pouted, punching his shoulder angrily before Seungho thought it would be nice they take a dip by a pool of mud, pushing the girl as they squirmed there like two little pigs, the girl teary but still laughing, before she was on top of Seungho and she gave him a smug grin.

“I win,” she darkly said, her pink dress that her mother just bought the other day completely wrecked, and Seungho, underneath her was cowering.

Their parents let them play like this, because other than the fact that it might have appeared cute, it was inevitably, the solution to Soyeon’s isolation and blues, and Seungho’s fear of the opposite sex. That they were comfortable playing like this, teasing, running around the backyard that might have been to the two their whole world.

Nonetheless, being beaten by a girl made Seungho hate Soyeon to an extent that he could not forgive her. But he still did.

iii.

They were twelve and entering middle school, together as usual and inseparable some think, because of the qualities that they both had, it was harder to earn friends as easy as they both had in the good old days. And among others they weren’t the popular ones either.

“Homework at my place, then,” Soyeon told one of the few friends she earned. They exited the main building and into the field, where buses waited for them. “I’ll just tell me mom you can stay over for dinner, Boram.”

The bus, its stomach of an inside filled to the brim of mostly students (already throwing paper airplanes into the air and jumping around from one seat to another) had been waiting for the two of them. Soyeon noticed that the moment they stepped in, the driver plunged his keys and started for ignition. It was just the first two weeks, and her papa would be so proud about Soyeon being socially able nowadays. Hmm, that showed Seungho and his cocky parents.

“Midget, over here!” His voice was a sting of a bee, among the other croaks, and because of this, Soyeon rolled her eyes and approached him. Midget, since when did that nickname surface?

It wasn’t long before she lost Boram in the sea of craze, and then the bus just richocheted forward, so if it wasn’t for Seungho’s unpredictable reflexes, Soyeon’s butt would have also kissed the gum-spread floor. His grip on her arm was stiff and strong, and he pulled her to his side now.

She stuck her tongue out as Seungho moved to the window side. She punched his shoulder as a greeting or a thank you or even both, Seungho didn’t mind at all, and he glared back, Soyeon, unamazed, tired, bored, placing her backpack by her lap.

“Do you have chips there or something,” he stole her bag, unzipped it and searched its insides like a pro.

“Yah, you should buy your own before leaving the house or leaving school,” Soyeon retorted. “Stop asking for me to feed you, you little...you little...” Her mind was going blank at what insult to get back, and because she felt like she would be wasting her breath trying to mortify him, she sighed, shaking her head and sitting back with a frown.

Seungho poked her cheek after the momentous silence. “You look like you were harrassed. Don’t you girls have brushes for broom-like hair or make up or something?”

“Very mature,” she answered, annoyed. “For someone getting caught cutting class.”

“I wasn’t cutting class!” He swayed his hand in disregard of the idea, although it was the truth. “You’re not going to---”

“Of course I’ll tell your mom,” Soyeon snapped back, crossing her arms in victory.

He leaned back now, squinting at the little girl. “You wouldn’t.”

“I would and no bribery of yours will ever---”

“I’ll buy you lunch tomorrow, plus extra treats.”

“For a month!” Soyeon considered, eyes widening.

He groaned in defiance. “A week!”

“Deal,” she beamed at him brightly, the wheels of the bus screeching now at the end of a corner. Both of them, singly overpowering the other with more blackmails, started getting off, the doors on cue opened for them as they stepped out. Soyeon, unmindful now as she talked to Seungho nonstop about how she would like some strawberry milkshake too, didn’t realize Boram was behind her, so when Seungho got to their fence first, he was quiet, nodding at the other girl.

“You two...weren’t busy for some reason, right?” she asked, Soyeon and Seungho eyeing each other in amusement.

Soyeon smiled lightly and took Boram’s hands, as the boy entered his home with a nagging mother in the kitchen. And because she was silent, the other girl’s mouth ran laps in like motor, shocked questions (not really questions, Soyeon noted), like since when were they neighbors, how did she end up being friends with that boy, did Seungho even have friends at school, things like that that never bothered a single nerve in Soyeon’s system. She didn’t feel responding to them either.

They entered her house, with only her mother in the living room watching some afternoon soap opera, and she introduced Boram with the simplicest of words before they excused themselves to her room.

“When are you going to date him? He looks so into you.”

That particular comment from her very curious friend had Soyeon stopping, literally stopped at the staircase, hand by the wooden banister, eyes on the second floor landing. She turned to Boram with very austere eyes. The following day, until the following year, Soyeon and Boram stopped talking to each other.

Soyeon disliked the idea of being paired with Seungho, because her parents always did often over dinner at the Yang’s.

iv.

High school flew in just as quickly, and perhaps it was the stupid stereotypical view about girl-boy friendship thing that had them growing further away. Maybe others could have handled it more properly, more naturally, but it actually did bother them both. They weren’t like the others though, because everyone else was expectant, so assuming, so forever attached to them in a fatal love story. When in truth they weren’t, and never had in Seungho’s perspective, a simple kind of romance flicker for each other.

They hardly spent time together at school, despite having almost every class together. Soyeon would be with her new friends, the glee club and some others, not anyone quite permanent except that Hyomin girl though, and Seungho didn’t mind at all. Now that she crossed to the popular side, you would practically know what Seungho felt. Lonesome? Not so much, he reflected one time. Anyway, he had Byunghee and Sanghyun with him, and they were a nice bunch too, skateboards, computer games, and some band music. It was all different in high school, Seungho thought and he knew this of course, expected Soyeon to be driven with the current.

The traditional dinner on Sundays didn’t fade though, and so both were in some way thankful that it didn’t. They would talk and sit beside each other, playing, teasing, the usual menu their parents would always be happy to see. But it wasn’t the full-blown ones, the total gags or late night talks, because of the total awkward high school wall. They played along, for their parents sake not to notice anything wrong with the two of them.

But they did, and so Seungho was bombarded with questions the following night, until he was forced by his parents to go over her place that very minute, that fucking 10:30 pm of a Thursday night, and he had no choice. When he told them that he would do it, his parents still wouldn’t leave the room until he did.

He sighed, putting down his pencil and out of his desk. Trigonometry had to wait then. While his parents watched, he slid his window upward, the night wind blowing his cheek. Just up front was Soyeon’s balcony, the lights off, curtains by the glass door down.

Seungho glared at his parents. If he hadn’t known it better that his father’s contructions skills along with Mr. Park’s own were used for these kind of purposes, maybe they really had planned him and Soyeon going out. The gap was minimal really, even a baby could cross. At his cockiness, he nearly slipped, but held on to the terrace and leaped. Soyeon was an early bird, indeed, quite too early.

He could see through the blinds that she turned. He felt himself gulp, out of worry, and he didn’t know why. He had done this several times in the past, so many times; but it could be because his parents were looking. So nervous he knocked on the glass pane, and he could see even in the dark how she shifted to her right, to switch the bed light on, and sluggishly she approached him.

“Hmm?” she said through closed eyes.

He really had no idea what to do now, with his parents watching him like it was romance movie. He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling so exhausted all of a sudden. “They’re watching me, Injung,” he whispered to her. Now opening her eyes, she looked passed Seungho and noticed them indeed.

“What are we going to do? What do they want?” Soyeon asked softly.

“I think they want to hear me apologize or something or show that we’re still pretty good friends,” Seungho answered.

“But are we not?” she said nonchalantly, and he could hear his stomach fly for cover. Seeing his expression so pained and sorry and frightened, Soyeon began giggling, patting his shoulder for some strong encouragement.

“Ah, then we shall see each other tomorrow at school, ne? I bet I can finish more milk than you did the last time, Seungho-sshi!” she said ever so loudly, it could’ve waken the neighborhood. Seungho, frowning, continued to act along, faking a snort-laugh when he could.

“Dream on, woman,” and she chuckled brightly, realistic, patting him so happily before his parents disappeared. “I remember the time when...”

A strong sigh escaped, both of them breathing normal again. Annoyed, she poked his shoulder. “You jerk, at least text me that you code parents-are-suspicious was on. I could have prepared more!”

He laughed more heartily now, turning his back on her. “Thanks again for that, Soyeon you midget.”

“You owe me for this, Yang!” she huffed away, closing the blinds and heading for her bed.

And Seungho’s heart still pumped harder, stiff and rough, although it must be the aftershock of having his parents watch him do that. Confrontations with the petite girl maybe one of the most frigthening experiences he had to face. He still continued to reason that it would be his parents, his stressful parents, and not because of what they think, her parents think, and what everybody in school would think. Because he didn’t like that idea at all, about him growing some sort of romantic attachment.

Yet somehow after this, after hearing her laugh, Seungho didn’t want to hate Soyeon after all, if ever he had grown to hate on her.

Until senior year came, and it could have been one of the saddest moments all teenagers had to get over with. Really, even Sanghyun thought it to be overrated. It had to end one way or another, and you would still see each other eventually when you stepped into college, in some parts of the world maybe, so what was everyone so afraid of? Growing up? Growing old? Growing apart? Or growing lost?

Words of wisdom for someone who used to be a baby, Seungho decided but he carried them in his heart like a good hyung. Sanghyun probably didn’t feel much of yet too much because he was one year behind.

That was during one Sunday that he realized somehow the answers to these questions.

“I’m going out with someone,” Soyeon, eyes stuck on the boy in front of her, stated over the table, everyone falling more silent. “We’re going to college together.”

“What?” her father asked again, though she smiled at him in assurance.

“He’s nice, don’t worry,” she said with a wink, Seungho mocking her at this. She tapped her chopsticks on his bowl to show her irritation, glaring.

“Who, sweetie?” Her mother wondered, although her face showed little interest.

She shrugged. “Oh... the captain of the football club. We’ll be going to the dance together this Saturday. He’s so dreamy, I swear.”

“You’ve been dating for a week. Could you please define dreamy for me?” Seungho spatted, the more infuriated than shocked he was inside.

“Not a week, you dumbass,” she retaliated. “We’re going on for six months now.”

“Wait...Seungho doesn’t know about this?” His mother cut in, and Seungho shrugged, drinking his water.

“He must be really something that he’s putting up with you,” he continued and Soyeon grinned.

“Oh like how you put up with me on normal days? Really Yang Seungho, I am not that hard to love,” She teased, their parents rejoicing at the sudden shift of mood.

He nodded, wiping his mouth. “Not that hard says the person who’s dating her first boyfriend.”

Insulted she grumbled some few curse words before adding, “At least I already have a first. Cold-hearted Seungho can’t get a girlfriend because he is too occupied with the elections, his math and maybe a bit of his drawings.”

“Oh? But I already have a girlfriend,” Seungho then revealed, all of them gasping in surprise.

“Omo, really Seungho-ah?” His mother’s interest never really faltered.

Seungho bowed at them as he left the table with unanswered questions and some more mumbles. Soyeon did not like being ignore, especially by her best friend, so she stood herself and followed him, in dire need to know more. He refused to answer any of them.

Because they were so apart, she reasoned. Soyeon stopped disliking Seungho after realizing that he was dating Im Jinah, the hot blonde cheerleader, for almost a year.

vi.

The dance was at eight, and his mother suggested that Seungho drove Soyeon there. Except he wasn’t sure if this was all right with Nana (really, the pet name started from him and it just spread like wild fire) considering that the girl was not going with him though, saying she liked to be fashionably late and pretty.

From the window, her silhoutte reflected against his, and maybe it was wrong to do so, Seungho gazed at her direction wondering how she felt last Sunday. They hadn’t seen each other, talked to each other though, but he knew her so well, he could read every pattern or change of body language. Her eyes were a total giveaway too; they always glittered when she was excited, happy, positive, while they would go dark, out of light, dull in an instant the moment something disappoints her. He reached for his tied and had it losely around his neck, planning to go for a detour visit.

He stood at her balcony door, waiting until she was ready. It didn’t take a genius to notice he was there, nor an ignorant disappointed Soyeon either, so she flipped the blinds and saw him in that dashing suit. She was in a dress too, formal actually. Her hair was tied to a bun, fringes around her hair that twirled. With Soyeon’s shoulders exposed, Seungho swallowed before asking his purpose.

“Your boyfriend going to pick you up?”

She smiled, head lowered sadly. “We...broke up.”

His mouth formed the letter o, then slowly rubbing the back of his neck out of habit, adding ‘I’m sorry’ and shyly looking away. “Then, would you like to take a ride? Although the blue mustang’s kinda rusty and the breaks are pathetic, but I think I can handle it. Of course, I don’t know about you handling it.”

“Seungho, aren’t you going to that dance?!” Her mother was, in many ways, quite a woman.

“Your driving is a disappointment,” she giggled. “Give me a minute and meet me at the front door. I can’t particularly take your window.”

He shrugged at the joke and rather pleased that she agreed. Of course, Jinah would be okay with this idea; she knew so much about Soyeon anyway, their friendship and closeness. She seemed forever so fine with it, not threatened at the idea of having a girl for a best friend.

But still. Seungho wanted Soyeon to know how special she was for it, so special that he wanted to tell her he liked her. Differently. In a good way.

vii.

So like prom night, like good students, they danced to all sorts of music, to all sorts from rock to jazz to anything the band could think of. The rhythm changed now to a slow dance, partners gathering at the center, some handpicked by the guys (but there were those girls too), and they began to move with the ballads. Mellow music filled her ears, serenity, calmness--- only thing she needed right now. Her boyfriend, former that is, didn’t come so she sat quietly on one of the benches, flipping her phone up and down, entertaining herself with the blinking light.

Then she saw Seungho with Nana in the middle. Her hair was so gorgeous: her porcelain face, her passion-filled eyes, her white dress--- calling her a goddess would be the understatement of the century. Jinah was beautiful, so much for being like her, Soyeon thought. Here she started comparisons; the range just made her qualmish and uneasy. She had the height too, which could have been why Seungho liked her so much. Could they have talked about her somewhere in between their conversations? Could they have involved her, could Seungho discuss her openly to Nana? Would that even matter?

Lazily, out of the corner of her eye, she lost them in the crowd, and she felt no importance to go looking for them. Focused on her cell phone, Soyeon wanted to go home already. But Seungho was her only ride. Her dearest papa was asleep by now so why bother, so should she go looking for Seungho then? But he could be gone now, to some motel across town, had Nana to himself finally...

“Oi, stop sulking,” his voice became the opening light, Soyeon again vibrant as earlier.

“I’m not sulking,” she got back, punching his stomach lightly. “And where’s Jinah? You shouldn’t leave her alone in this---”

“She isn’t as frail as you think so it’s all right,” Seungho stopped her, holding his hand out for her to take. “May I have this dance?”

She agreed, only because she was very bored. The music still continued to play, and as awkward as they were, they couldn’t get too close among the rest of the couples. Seungho, a little guilty, placed his hand by her waist, pulling her bit by bit closer to him in some way. She kept her gaze away, kept it far from him as much as possible.

“So deep in thought,” Seungho commented and she smiled. “What’s ticking in that brain of yours? Food, perhaps?”

Her hand fell on his shoulder, as they swayed slowly. She gulped before planning to just honestly admit it to herself.

“Weren’t we meant to be though, Seungho-sshi?” Soyeon asked, hugging him closer.

She felt his chest tighten, his stance a little bit hesitant now. “Meant to be, right. Like how they always say.”

“Like they always say it,” Soyeon said so. “You and me, we could have been the most beautiful pair in the world, like how mother would say it.”

He coughed, out of cold really not out of her words, but Soyeon could have understood the latter better. “They’re crazy, all of them really. They won’t leave us alone.”

“So if it were just you...” her head now lay on his shoulder. “If it were you alone, would you have fallen in love with me?”

Seungho didn’t like breaking hearts, but that moment, seeing Nana from her usual spot, watching his every movement in yearning and concern, he couldn’t help himself. She was his best friend, maybe she could understand.

“Some are meant to fall in love,” he said to her. “But they are never meant to be together.”

“Then maybe everyone was right,” Soyeon sadly added, tears for some reason began now. “Maybe we were supposed to fall in love.”

He shrugged. “Maybe, but we didn’t have to listen to them.”

“Nana and college aren’t that far, considering you’re the student body president,” she bragged, trying to feel ever so proud for him. “You’re going to do great, Seungho-sshi.”

“I’m really sorry, Injung.”

With those words, and hearing her slightly hiccup, he knew best to drive her back home and give her a good night rest. Seungho carried her to her room behind his back, even though she didn’t ask him to do it, even though he didnt ask himself what was this all for. He tucked her, still in her dress, planting a kiss on her forehead just like that. He knew her parents would do it to her too, that lovely girl.

“Good night, midget,” Seungho said, sitting by her bed side.

“I miss you,” she said when he started getting up. “I missed you. I’m missing you. I’ll be missing you.”

He shook his head bitterly, holding her hand now and getting up. “I’ll have to get back, though.”

“Come by tomorrow, okay? And the next day too,” Soyeon began, at the brink of her tears, pleading him in some sort of way. “Seungho-sshi, okay?”

But he didn’t, and even if he loved her, even if she loved him, he didn’t come back for her. The Sunday meals of a tradition were no longer that complete, because if Seungho went, Soyeon would leave out, and if she decided to eat together with them, he would refuse to even eat. It was a rather abnormal thing, and their parents knowingly, knew they had nothing else to do but wait for a better miracle.

viii.

She held on too tightly to her mother’s fingers as they drove past the silent highway back now for summer. She graduated from law, young and still forever bewildered all the more that she would be back home again. College was exhausting no doubt; but she made through, and everything would be all right now. But still, like how she used to, she held on to her mother, curling by her side as the seatbelt flattened them together like pieces of sardines. She now big enough to drive her own car, her mother even commented and she wasn’t anymore their baby girl like the last time. This time it made her laugh.

She went out of the car first, noticing that nothing had changed since the past. The same scent of freshly cut grass and some other things like the neighborhood pranksters, or the dogs that chased off the postman. And then of course there was Yang Seungho, playing his guitar at their doorstep.

He looked up as she strutted towards him; their faces were bright as that fine day.

Why the Sky is Blue

wintercreamed — Thu, 29 Mar 2012 14:19:40 GMT

Title: Why the Sky is Blue
Pairing: Eunhyuk-Tiffany; implied Eunhyuk-Hyoyeon
Genre: AU/Romance/Angst; PG, 3634 w
Summary: Usually we tend to forget what matters most. And what matters most may someday forget us too.
A/N: I’ve been wanting to try this couple, like it was a new flavor or something, and it tastes kind of like vanilla. First time writing them, so it may be awkward and rusty. Plus, it’s first person and in the present tense. So all in all, this will be a new mess. You’ve been warned.
To the ahjumma ~~Donghae!whore~~ Mai Lin.

I have regrets. One thing I can admit to myself is that I do have them. Sometimes they are existent, sometimes at hiding; sometimes too obvious and sometimes easily faked, tamepered and fading. It will be selfish of me to say that other people also have them, living in that misery of not being able to do things they wanted to do, say things they wanted to say, and love the people they wanted to love.

Now, you will be reading this and wonder what is this I am writing. It’s an essay about regrets, up and behind it, what makes it tick and some other things you will have to be forced to read from here on. I have regrets. Then again maybe everybody else has them as well.

Notice that regrets are paired with wants. Never being able to do what you’ve always wanted---I haven’t taken notice of that before too until a certain person, a certain stranger, this friend I suppose, came to me and slapped it on my face. She is a fan of that, I guess, literally slapping things on your face, and no, she isn’t my first love or anything, nor is she one that is on my mind all the time. You may know her.

I know her as far as I can remember, except we really don’t talk to each other and I avoid every possible conversation with the other species that make up half of the human population. She is one of the popular kids and she is one that I actually have not expected to be friends with. Well, if people will look at us as friends, we are actually more on the level of acquintances.

Why we will talk about her is simply because she always has been the remorseful type of person, somewhat pessimistic in the inside but all bright and shining on the outer cover, and not many people, certainly not one as myself, can find that out. I do not know her too well, but I can read her like any book, even when we are mere strangers. She is the perfect example for the word regret; she can be a perfect synonym to it!

One day, as though it is the most of all the most, the worst of the worst, I wrap up the thin sheets of used foil and crumple them, noisily as I do so, I stop and see her, after years from graduation. She is wearing a faded brown French coat and boots come with this, although I’m not very particular what brand it is this time.

I approach her, swinging the towel by my shoulder. “We’re closing, miss.” I say, although I can’t be that sure if she will still recognize me by the hair net and apron.

To firstly put it, nobody from school, except for my pal Donghae, actually knew we owned a family restaurant and because I hated pursuing medicing like my sister, I talked it out with my parents that I would help around running it, and with me around, I believed we even increased in sales!

She looks up finally, shyly wiping the excess of her eyeliner. She has been crying. It doesn’t take one genius to know her so well to say that she hasn’t.

“Yeah, I’ll get going after one more bottle of soju.”

I feel rather obliged not to give her more. “Something the matter?”

“Not that you’ll understand,” she spats, shaking her head and rolling her eyes with it.

Awkward, I move a few inches away, giving her space as my father behind the counter gives me signals, as though telling me to sit with the woman. Mother on the other hand is busily counting the cash we have earned for the day. My hands are quite shaky, like it has fever that suddenly it warms up. One of the few helpers is leaving, pulling down the shades of the windows before giving us salutes. I stand rather still confused at what to do with her but then I decide to set aside my fear and go for it; the way she drops the glass after a shot of the liquor loosens my agitation.

“You can always tell me,” I volunteer and she smiles sideways, probably drunk but I’m not too sure.

She snickers. “You pinky promise not to tell anyone after this?”

I’m more than shocked, gulping so evidently that she shakes her head in disregard and drops more of that soju down her throat. She wipes her mouth from the excess, her eyes glistening with tears from an earlier experience, then her eyes fall on me, I gaze back--- the night seems endless all at once, and that it is too perfect that everyone else ceases to exist.

I grin after her. “What?”

“It’s just that...” she trails off, forgetting to smile and then sighing. Her smallest finger, the finest one I have seen, extends to me. “Pinky promise first.”

I twist mine around hers and look at her seriously. “Okay. I promise.”

She pulls away, sitting still and staring at the soju on the table, with her hands on her lap. She appears more than a little girl to me, more than how I know her before.

“I have a best friend,” she starts. Yes, that’s right. It’s Sooyeon, or as she is known to be Jessica by most people. “I liked a boy back in high school and we used to date. Not until I’ve found out recently that they’re going out, him and my best friend.”

Oh. My face reveals its discontent. She can’t read it well, her eyes tell me. Not yet also, they scowl more, warning me that sometime in the future she will be able to decode it. She clears her throat while I say, “That’s got to hurt.”

“No, that’s not why I’m crying,” she snorts quickly. “It’s the fact that nobody even cared to tell me they were an item. Nobody, not even my best friend, told me it was him this time. And they’ll get married in the fall. I just found out through a text message about their wedding. Oh, and dad’s business in America went bankrupt. I lost my wallet in the streets today. The cat my grandma gave for Christmas suddenly died and my laptop went berserk, like total fireworks display back in the apartment.”

I can’t help but laugh at the last part so she turns to me at once. I frown. “How are you taking it then?”

“Pretty frustrated at this stage,” she admits to me and takes another drink. “I’ll be better in the morning.”

“Not with soju,” I suggest and she stops halfway, literally eyeing me. “I mean, you should try vodka for the sake of waking up at noon tomorrow.”

With eyes curving happily, she beams. “I’m...”

“Tiffany,” I finish for her. Her eyes grow bigger at the name and she slaps my arm with it, pointing my cheek.

“Yah! How do you know?” She turns red at once.

I scowl, squinting. “We’re classmates in high school, I can’t believe you. Eunhyuk’s the name. Does it ever ring a bell?”

“So you know who I was referring?”

“Yes, your best friend,” I stare back at her, getting the desired scare or something that I burst into laughter. “But the guy. I’m not in any way familiar. You have a lot of boyfriends so I won’t be suspecting anyone.”

She sighs wearily, thumping my elbow with it. “Pinky promises are sacred as anything!”

I stand and smile at her. “I’ll walk you back to the apartment or help you into a cab. You seem tired.”

“No! No, not a good idea,” she then declines, standing up clumsily with her black bag. “I’m practically okay. You can have this as a tip.” A thousand bill won, and she says she’s broke. Beginning her steps to the exit, I hurriedly take the tray now and get back to the kitchen to wash the dishes, when a whistle from behind spins me around.

Her smiles are such a pleasant nirvana, though I’m not quite sure what nirvana may mean to anyone. “I’ll come back tomorrow. And by then, you should drink vodka with me, okay?” Shrillness of her voice, it makes me beam wider at her.

“Sure thing.”

That child, I always say. She always comes after work to eat, sometimes even before work and rarely then during lunches----since her apartment is nearby and she is working in this financing company for those indebt. My mother knows her from there, since Miyoung’s one for the talk, since she is better at it than with math (or so she kids with me about it one time).

As the days progress, she returns in with the natural glow, the beautiful glow that affects me so much although I cannot admit it purposely or show off, even my sister Sora finds it odd that Miyoung stays for dinner and eats with us when we are not even friends, not even lovers--- strangers at hand but never really lovers or anything of that relation. She is not my friend, but a customer, a girl that oftentimes visits just to tell more of her secrets.

“I’m not Jessica, you know.” I tell her one day and she stops chuckling, punching the side of my arm.

“No one’s replacing Sooyeon,” she drinks her juice. “You’re you and she’s she. You’re Hyukjae and I’m Miyoung. I’m your Miyoung. And you’re my Hyukjae.”

That is when I remember blushing from it, but I remain cool, calm as a cucumber in which her best friend Jessica hated so much. The term of possession as to mine and yours has been what Donghae and I laugh about girls back in the good old golden days, since they seem so sure, so believing and somehow with Tiffany, as I stare back in her eyes and she puts her head on my shoulder to sleep, I almost can rely on it. I am a fool to be, since only girls can be that depending, that naive to trust words. But now I am believing in mine and yours, and I somehow think that maybe she is right about somethings: like a pinky promise is sacred or that Gucci bags are more expensive in the black import.

The weirdest thing about this is that we are not even in a relationship, for friends cannot be this close, can they? I do hope we are friends in her eyes; I always have that notion to ask her if she’s just playing with me, because I am that monkey everyone in school loves to make fun of. But I never try to, because I may be expecting impossible things to happen.

Miyoung is afraid of the dark. When she sleeps, she keeps the light on, and that it is actually upon the stereotypical mess about the monster under your bed or the boogeyman in the closet that brought her to this shameful secret. As the lights are off, she ends up curling, crying and eventually staying up to protect herself. From this moment I wonder if she is even hiding anything from me, all truth released I realize now. I am afraid that she will doubt now, I don’t know if she will ever ask me about my own but then she doesn’t have to, not now. Miyoung’s too sweet of a person, not actually the girl I see as evil and naughty before.

Miyoung has regrets too. She hates living in Korea, hates Sooyeon still for taking away the only love of her life and hates have to work to earn money. She wants to live in America where she feels safe all the time, wants to turn back time so that she doesn’t have to have a bond with Jessica, and lastly, wants to be pampered rather than working hard by herself.

I laugh at this. “That’s a couple of silly sorry things. Life’s too short to be dwelling in such.”

“Life’s too long for me!” she snaps instantly, and then cool down for a couple more. “I mean, what makes it so long is because the mistakes I’ve done keep appearing, like to rub in the point.”

“It’s okay,” I say, because I don’t know what else to say. She smiles knowingly at me and holds out her hand, pointer and thumb out while the rest are in, looking also like a gun. She makes a shooting sound as I mimic this action of hers. It becomes a routine of ours after something harsh is told, some secrets revealed.

I have never admitted to Miyoung anything, any secrets or any stories of my life, nor the fact that someone is coming home that fine day. We open the restaurant at six, clean tables and wait up on orders from table to table as the early breakfast round starts, until that someone, not Miyoung, enters the restaurant. Now, she is my first love, the one who is on my mind all the time, until recently Miyoung has been disturbing that norm. You may know her of course.

She is a great dancer, speaks honest things and well, she is back from her travels that day. She is usually shy but around me, we tire of the sunset so we bust off a movie or just sleep the ordinary night away. She is like family to us, like how Miyoung seem to be during this moment, except for her, it is different. I can’t express as much to the comparison of the two because they don’t deserve to be compared. Miyoung is Tiffany--- so she will always be this hearty person who thinks about herself often and does not make me talk, that she slaps her bag at my arm to force me to go shopping, even when her debts are piling up. She loves to play pranks on me and I let her, simply because she has been through a lot and if I can make her happy, I’ll be contented. I’ve done my work, that she is happy and all, so I feel that the ooze of guilt for not telling anything will not show.

But it does.

Only because Miyoung comes in that same time as I am with Hyoyeon. She is my girlfriend, so no doubt, our hands will be locked around each other and a lot of whispers will be shared. I do not see what is wrong with this, that we tickle each other and kid around in the kitchen. Miyoung has access here too, because I have shown her where my parents are busy making the hot exceptional food. As Hyoyeon drops in for a goodbye kiss on the lips, on perfect cue, Miyoung enters happily, stops talking to the other works, and stares at us both. Although I haven’t known that for my eyes are closed, mom tells me soon after, scolding me in fact as Hyoyeon finally left to unpack her things in her new apartment downtown. Mom says Tiffany looked disheartened when she left.

I feel no remorse for this as I reason to myself. Tiffany must have just felt awkward around us, that is why she left. Or that Tiffany is not a fan of kissing scenes or something, although we watched a movie before and she insists that it’s the best part of the whole romance flicks. She cannot be furious with me or with Hyoyeon, or she can be but she absolutely should not.

I haven’t told her about any secrets of mine because I am afraid that she will not listen to me or laugh even harder, because most of my secrets are for a loser. I know she explains to me a lot that it doesn’t matter if I were a loser, but another thing why I never urge myself to say anything is because I believe she will not care, not even once. See, so there is no reason for me to feel guilty. It isn’t like she will even take notice of those thoughts, of those ideas of mine that I keep hidden.

Yet, I can’t take it after a week of not talking to her. She does not answer my calls, the casual and panicked ones alike. Tiffany is as important as any girl, mind you. She is and she will be, that I am her Hyukjae too and she is my Miyoung. I slowly grope for my coat that lay to my side, as I get off the bed and slip into slippers.

I know she will absolutely criticize the way I look right now, but it does not matter anymore. I know where she lives because I walk her to it every day, like a guide in crossing the street because she can’t cross the street without literally running for her life. She takes her car (before) instead of walking so it explains much of that. That is also one of her secrets.

I slip my hands down my pockets, waiting for her at the door. She will answer. Of course, she will. She doesn’t know yet that it is me. But I keep ringing the bell, as though hoping she will get to it at once. Right now, I run a script of honesty in my head, remembering what I am suppose to tell her, and it’s a tad long list. For the point that since it is, I shall try to make it understandable for her, so she won’t be angry anymore (since I think she is).

I sleep without the lights but I have a small alligator to keep me company. I dream of becoming a pilot ever since I was a kid, that’s why I never will wish to be in the medics. I love strawberry milkshake as it breeds limitlessly in your mouth until to your tummy. I may as well tell her that I prefer dancing than singing, since she forces me to during walks in the park. I want two kids in the future if ever I get married. I have a girlfriend and her name is Hyoyeon. I love her as much as I can show it. I know she knows it well too, so I want Miyoung to know this critical part.

For almost five minutes of knocking I quit, sitting on the porch with confessions running amok. I hate drinking soju that’s why I never offer it to her. I like cartoons and I doodle a lot at the back of my notebook. I love to sit on top of the sink while washing the dishes. I rather jump off a cliff than ride a roller coaster. I hate swimming, though. I’m scared of death, I’m scared of losing all my loved ones from it...

I’m scared of losing people I love, Miyoung included. Wide-eyed, I stop, shaking my head. Miyoung, where are you? Will you please just open the door for me, please. I miss you. Can I miss you? May I hear your voice again? May I just see you? Can we stop pretending nothing is wrong? Can I just believe in mine and yours?

“She left.”

I turn to my side, the door of her neighbor opens a quarter as an old man stands here. He is drinking his hot coffee on this cold morning. I bow my head in response and run to him in wonder.

“Where did she go?”

“I’m in no position to answer that,” he tells me and hands out a newspaper that dated about three days ago. Only a short brief report it says, a young girl age of twenty-four donates all her riches, from their family business to her cars. It shows that she dies of leukemia, in the hospital in town after she confesses that she stopped going through with the medication and let time succumb to her destiny. It is okay, she mutters at the end of the news report.

“I have no regrets,” I read the last part, tears undeniably coming soon after. I look at the man miserably, shaking my head in denial. “Is this...”

She wasn’t, I assure myself, because she never told me that she had this unstoppable illness. She never told me about it, never ever mentioned such things. And she looked fine. She never was admitted to the hospital for it and never had I accompanied her.

I wait for the man as he sighs. “Son, she’s gone. I’m really sorry.”

No regrets, her last words. No regrets, Miyoung. How can you not have regrets for something like this? I take it in unhappily, all of the things I never have even said, all the things I never have even seen.

Who that hero when you sleep at night will be, what the sea is actually made of, when the world will end, and why the sky is blue--- for all what’s worth, I do have regrets. I cannot sum up to why I never answered these questions with her, how I could let myself not understand. I regret because all my wants never came true, and the things I needed escape my palms just as they pass through it.

And now at fifty-four I still clearly reflect on the idea of letting go and moving on, about forgetting regrets--- it’s never impossible, but it will be difficult. I tell her to leave the past behind, but I can’t even practice that ideology. I go about it and lay flowers on her grave today, bringing along my still unmoving heart. She will not be forgotten, I promise to myself. Never will.

I end this essay, the fifth one this month, for her to read in heaven.

Misguided Ghosts

wintercreamed — Thu, 01 Mar 2012 03:36:57 GMT

Misguided Ghosts by Shinhyunae
Changmin/Yoona; broken YoonBum; implied TaecYoon
Angst AU, PG-13 From The Canvas 5,331w
If I could change the world for you darling, I wouldn’t do it. If I had the power to reverse time, I wouldn’t. Because accidents don’t happen; rather they come in pieces after another, and if I were to change things in the past, then you and I would never be. But then again, when were we ever?
Kibum’s departure from the university left some marks, some broken hearts, and some unwanted comfort.

For aozaand for Faye, unnies that made me a little stronger.

---------------------------------------------------------

December 8, 2010; Dear Diary,

Today.

Earlier this morning, around six, I drove him to the airport. I saw him leave. I’m not anymore sure what to do. I’ll be going home for the holidays this weekend, far too early. You know what they say when you finally see something’s worth when they’re gone? As cliche as it may sound, maybe it’s true. And maybe I just proved it true.

“I’m not...coming back,” he silently replied. She couldn’t say anything after this. “Aish, grow up Yoona. You got him with you.”

“But you’re different,” Yoona noted, puzzling him with a huge hug. “Honest and warm. That’s why I like you. I wish you’d stay. But I understand how important your brother is to you so I will help you.”

Honest she said.

Kibum looked passed through her innocence, stroking her hair as he deliberately kissed her head on top. “I’m going to miss you too. I’m sorry.”

September 10, 2011; Dear Diary,

A person worth my stares, my kisses and my love. It has been months, exactly nine months and two days if I’m not mistaken. That long that I have not written, not even looked up or laughed or even smiled at anything, at anyone. Tomorrow’s the first day of my second year in SMEU, without him anymore to give me those weird looks as though I have killed someone just the other day. He used to smile like stars ceased to exist, and I seemed to be captivated that even now, my heart longs for him and regrets that I have helped him leave, go away and never come back. Stupid Yoona.

“Yoona? You up here?”

She stops writing, keeps the small purple notebook into the pile of folded clothes in her bag and then runs to unlock the door to see Yuri, who squeals so excitedly to see the younger version of herself (assumed by the many around campus). Arms over Yoona, she hugs her tightly, very firm Yoona even thought and that makes her miss the unnie more. She always smells like she has been from the laundry, picking up her cleaned and pressed Levi’s she loves so much.

She hastily enters into the bedroom, seeing that it has not changed even for a small detail, except Taeyeon graduated and Sooyoung finally decided to switch with Yuri.

Letting go of her bag, Yuri pounces on the other bed, laughing hysterically. “I miss this dorm, you know. I miss Taeyeon already and all her antics. I missed you, Yoona.”

“You too,” she smiles while folding her arms sadly. “Get into your uniform. It’s almost eight. Classes will start.”

Yuri snickers at the way Yoona demands. “So robotic. Ever since that Kibum kid disappeared---”

Yoona drops her bag, earlier settled on top of her bed, rather harshly on to the floor, causing the other girl to stop talking, to just stop whatever she is doing and ends up closing her mouth awkwardly, turning around and grabbing her uniform from her luggage. Yoona pulls out her sheets from her large roller bag, silently puts them on to the bed and starts stretching it to fit along the ends. Yuri stands up and pulls it along with her, able to solve the younger girl’s problem. But she remains quiet all through it, eyes avoiding Yuri’s gaze and hurriedly getting her favorite pillow out and putting it on top of the bed. They do not talk, no words, Yoona getting from under the bed her black shoes.

“Look, if you’re just going to be sulking around like---”

“We didn’t date and I never said I loved him,” Yoona cuts her off, before Yuri sits on top of the bed, dumbfounded.

Yuri’s about to speak, although she isn’t quite sure it will be helpful, but later on decides to just be quiet. Yoona looks up from the floor where she is sitting, and then a smile crawls to her face.

“You’ll be late for god’s sake, unnie,” Yoona tells her encouragingly, as though nothing is wrong with her at all. “It’s your third year in Engineering. How you even survived Algebra has been a question in my mind.”

“Hey, your Taecyeon has been helping a lot with it,” Yuri manages to spill, Yoona again showing off false smiles.

“My Taecyeon,” she mutters after the older girl.

“Yoona, I’m scared,” the other girl suddenly admits, and Yoona can see her shaking with it. “Yoona, I understand that it’s not fair he left, I understand that. But it’s been a year, sweetie. Seriously, he’s not...” she swallows before moving forth. “I’m sorry, I believe he’s not coming back.”

With sort of a gulp and a sign of accepting the truth, Yoona lowers her head, smiling. “I know that. He told me he won’t be coming back.”

Not coming back, she whispers to herself as Yuri leaves to change. Yoona is scared too. She’s scared of the coward eating her whole soul inside, unable to carry on with life as though someone has died, yet perhaps it’s just the same thing nowadays---lose someone, lose them forever.

It is like making color out of black and white, when really none of both is inclined to anything. There is nothing left, but a nightmare, an endless hope that she will be wishing he be coming back. That he is coming back. He will because she is here, and he loves her and she knows too well that he can’t just leave her so easily.

Or maybe she had been thinking that he loved her when in fact, he never had.

“Yoona!” an outside voice suddenly disrupts her thinking and she is in the hallway, getting pass the other students. A bit of a blur, her eyes sees this person with a sophomore’s tie, in the alternative type uniform on a Monday (against the rules, she notes), but he is approaching her, with eyes soft and round, lips parted as he tries calling her name, except she can’t hear the words.

“Yoona! Yoona!” he was excitedly running to her, handing out the text results. “Yoona! You topped the written exams on Chemistry!”

She stopped, amidst the students keeping him and her apart, and she smiled, waving back to get his attention. “Loser’s bench, okay?” It was almost like a shout that the upperclass walking by her glared.

“I’ll be there!”

“Ki...Kibum?” She turns, eyebrows touching each other as she makes out the image of a man, taller than Kibum he is, so she is wrong. His hair is brown, probably dyed she doubted, and his height upon closer range is intimidating, but his deep brown eyes are soft, that you can be melted in them in one second, perhaps even a quarter before it. She just can’t put her picture why he somehow knows her name, but that doesn’t seem to matter now--- everybody else seems to know her by her face or by her name, after performing a play in their finals last semester. She is after all a major in acting.

She looks at him, wondering. “Yes?”

He hands her purple notebook, the diary she has been writing on all morning. “You left your notebook.”

Her eyes widens instantly, snatching it. Well Yoona, it is so brilliant of you to be unmindful of your things. “You...didn’t open it, right?”

The boy smiles at once with it. “I won’t know who it belonged to if I didn’t open it. It doesn’t have your name on top, so I checked the first page.”

“Which I by the way have a diary entry on,” Yoona hisses, shaking her head and clicking her tongue. “Eh, whatever you read, don’t spread it...er...uh...” she trails off, coordinating the memory of his face and other names within the batch. What is his name, fucking remember his name Yoona.

“Changmin,” he states proudly, holding his hand out. “Shim Changmin.”

She nods awkwardly, unsure if she should shake his hand or not or just ignore him and walk away. Then again, at least he hasn’t run off to the Elite Chronicles and have it published for everyone to see, so maybe, upon any other circumstance, it is best to say thank you.

“Yes, thank you Changmin,” she tucks the diary inside her bag, in between her history book and script. Without her even knowing it, she starts walking away out of the building and into the open air, where the trees dance along with the autumn songs and the flowers merrily bend with the wind. She is taken by her feet to a less dense area now, the whole world pausing as she steps closer to a couple of benches down the field, benches that are made out of wood, carved not so perfectly as she notices now. She sits on one and smiles cheerfully.

This is where she and Kibum used to practice their lines together for theatre, and sometimes he even brings along food, which is the most important thing in the world as Yoona defines it, and he lets her eat during breaks. Everybody calls it the Loser’s Bench, because only losers hang out here. Practically the reason why nobody ever comes near it, and so it’s perfect to study with silence as its offering.

Kibum wasn’t the type of person to be serious as he was stereotyped to be, Yoona would often defend. It was plainly because he was shy, his potentials unknown yet, but because more or less he took life at what it was now, and not how it would be tomorrow. He cherished every moment he had, Yoona finally understood why though, but still, he always was nice to her, and because she was going out with Taecyeon, she hadn’t really paid much attention to a person who she earned as a friend. Kibum was not a friend she merely had because they lived in the dormitory, or that he was someone from her childhood--- things like those, she then reflected, were too common things. And she hated usual things. Kibum was her friend because he loved to be one, and he did nothing to hurt her. Except maybe for leaving.

“So this is where you go hiding.”

Startled, she jolts upright at the voice and opens her eyes. Right now everything continues moving, the droplets from the leaves fall, the birds start chirping, and even the wind as she feels it caressing her cheek feebly plays with the dried leaves on the ground.

Yoona shrugs. “It’s a lot peaceful here, you know. Staring at the back of building Hyoshin and all that stuff. Therapy, I guess.”

He smiles and sits next to her. “And aren’t you the peaceful type of girl.”

She suddenly snorts at the comment, laughing. “Peaceful? Im Yoona? Taecyeon, that’s completely---” She stops at her speech, eyes him accordingly. That is probably the only good thing about Taecyeon, she thinks out seriously. Because he is also just as nice, and sometimes overly honest, but nice. The man makes her feel like she is home, even when she is miles away from Mom and Dad. She is safe and for sometime, even just a little while, Kibum moves out into space and Taecyeon darts into her mind at once. Maybe that was also it, that he had helped her get through the pain, like a drug supplement on dosages and without him knowing of it.

“I should add more dosage just to make sure,” she says, making Taecyeon confused. “Forget I said that.”

“You’re always so quiet,” Taecyeon adds, slipping his hands into hers. “I like that about you.”

She inhales heavily. “I don’t really know. I feel like...” She can’t do it. Somehow having Taecyeon as a boyfriend is the same as having socks on, or a scarf on--- another add-on garment to keep her somehow warm but the cold is ineffable, and that’s why she can’t afford to tell anyone of why she still feels sad. For something that has happened nine months ago, the scene is still cold, too freezing that she can’t speak out of it, ever to anyone else.

“I feel cold,” she honestly says, pulling her hand away and getting up. “This is the Loser’s Bench, best you walk back to the varsity club. I’ll go back to the dorm now, I need some sleep.”

“You’ll skip Math?” Taecyeon wonders as Yoona starts heading back. “It’s the first day. Your name won’t be on the list.”

She rolls her eyes upon picking her bag up and nods at him. “Yes, well...okay, I’ll head to class.” Early perhaps for it, she then thinks, but hey, Taecyeon keeps her from skipping classes to cutting them to get a drink. Not really the best boyfriend, but he is there, and he is only doing what he is suppose to do---take care of her when she can’t do it herself.

“Yoona...wait, I---”

She turns around easily. “Yes?”

Taecyeon has one of those worried expressions on his face before he closes his mouth. He opens it again. “Sleep in class. You look tired.”

She shrugs off casually and continues walking on the dead leaves, crisp sounds upon every step. Bored to find herself alone in her Calculus class, she finds a seat at the farthest left, the one at the far back where nobody is bound to look at. Since she knows no one here, after a minute or so, she then takes out her purple notebook and opens to the third page, where it dated exactly a year ago.

September 10, 2010; Dear Diary,

I met all of my coursemates the other day. There was this boy too. He became my partner during one of the exercises before I fainted. He took care of me. He took me to the clinic and hastily told Yuri-unnie I was sick. I recovered now, and you’ll never guess what happened tonight. They came to our dormitory! All six boys, looking for Tiffany-unnie, yet I really had no idea why. Unnie just reported it while I was resting. She said Kibum was looking for me. He was worried. How nice of him to actually take care of---

“Someone taking this seat?”

She looks up at the voice, as though hearing it from the memory of her diary, alive and present but all at once, she blinks hastily to see not Kim Kibum, but the boy earlier who has found her notebook back. They are classmates here too.

“Nobody,” Yoona answers, still observing him. Just about to start a long rant, Yoona stops when the professor enters the room, his shoes echoing on the wooden floor.

She gives the boy a very long stare until he now is forced to gaze at her. “What?” he asks.

“Are you following me?” Yoona fires a question, only whispering it as the professor starts to check the students enrolled.

“What made you think I am?” Changmin retorts.

“Because you’re always in my classes,” she then replies, frustrated but still in a silent way. “You’re not a Theatre major, right?”

He snickers. “That kind of weak course is not suitable for me, mind you. I’m a major in Industrial Design.”

Yoona sighs, eyes darted at once over his. “That explains. We’re both in the Arts Division.”

“Im?”

“Here!” The two of them chorus, class silent, all bewildered as to why Changmin is also holding his hand up. The two of them look at each other for a long time, as the professor, waits for them to settle it.

“Im... Yoona? Where is Im Yoona?”

“I’m here,” Yoona hastily replies, Changmin lowering his head in embarrassment.

“And...the guy beside you is...”

“Shim, Shim...Shim, I thought he said Shim,” Changmin grunts in annoyance. “It’s Shim Changmin, sir. I’m sorry,” he later on adds, the whole class roaring in laughter for that sudden mistake. What kind of person would not even reconize his last name, Yoona also can’t hold it in that she starts laughing instantly and loudly, more now that the laughter fades.

“Oh god, you’re the dorkiest shit in town, aren’t you?” she teases, shaking her head frantically and clapping her hands. She buries her head on her bag so that it may suppress further noise, and in that moment, her drowsiness leaves her, her boredom runs away, and later realizes she is genuinely feeling happy and it feels rather great in the tummy.

After the final bell rung, she goes back to the dormitory and straight to her room, still lazily as earlier, finding Yuri studying on the desk. She jolts up in surprise to see her back, but she entertains no questions. Yoona bounces on to her bed and opens her laptop, loosely plugging it at the nearest port.

“Yoona, did you see Taecyeon today?” Yuri asks, ignoring Yoona’s attitude now. She is used to this ever since the other year anyway.

She gives the girl a nod. “Yes, why’d you ask?”

“Did he tell you he was suppose to help me today? I kind of wanted help on my homework,” she says. “Can you ask him to come over?”

Automatically, Yoona heaves her bag close to her, eyes still on the laptop, her hands slipping to one of the pockets. She pulls out her phone and types in a short text message, before hiding it back and focusing on the script she is needing to print out for tomorrow’s theatre class.

“Did you text him---”

“Already did,” Yoona cuts off, pressing on the keyboard more heavily than a second ago. Yuri takes the message and minds her own business, taking her books to her chest and calculator along and heads for the door.

“Then I’ll be downstairs to wait up for him,” Yuri adds, exiting. The door slams shut without Yuri really intending to have it boom like that and disturb the sophomore roommate.

Yoona gazes at the door for a long time, her finger haning in the air over the letter A. She faces her bag again to get her pen but accidentally pulls out her purple notebook, along with the other books.

Looking at it, the memory over her math class swiftly makes her laugh out of nowhere. Pathetic person. Finding her pen, she opens to the latest page and writes, a smile painted on her face with no further reason.

September 11, 2011; Dear Diary,

Today was the first day of school. I went to the Loser’s Bench as usual, but...well, no Kibum. You were in the possession of another man, do you know that diary?! I accidentally left you in my earlier class! But luckily Changmin found it. And you’ll never guess what! When I was called by my last name, he also yelled ‘here’. Deaf, deaf, deaf--- I couldn’t help myself from really laughing. How weird, don’t you think? But today, I felt happy.

I am happy.

Days pass somehow, and it has not been too dreadful. Perhaps because Yoona has found a new friend to play with, to make fun of, to tease about. It is really amazing how one can be close to another in an instant. But that is what made it wrong, she decides one day over a math quiz. That every time that Changmin helps carry her books back to the dorm, or asks if she has taken her medication, reminds Yoona oh so much of the past, that somehow mimicked the present time.

“Are you going to eat that?”

They sit side by side at one of the benches behind the Hyoshin building, little old loser’s benches, as what other people call it. But it is all right with Changmin, since he is giving Yoona all the credits for locating such a quiet and tranquil place. Nobody in the university actually likes staying here anyway, only due to its name. But apart from that, it reminds them of the country side, and somehow noise is barred and nothing else except their voices floats.

“What?” She looks up, seeing Changmin with his mouth obviously full. He is pointing with his chopstick the kimchi on her plate. She shakes her head, putting it before the man. “Hmm, you can have it.”

He beams brightly, picking it up. “This is why it’s fun to eat lunch with you. You’re always on a diet.”

She snaps to reality at once. “Oi, I’ll have you know, I’m termed as a ‘shikshin’ in the dormitory, and I tell you that I don’t go on diets. I just find eating much more fun than anything.”

“Yoona,” he starts, swallowing first. “No offense but you’re skinnier than last year, do you know that?”

“You know me from last year?” She questions. Stalker. As expected.

Changmin vaguely shrugs, looking away. “Who doesn’t? You’re like the top of the Theatre students. And really, do you know how tiny you are right now?”

Of course she has been neglecting meals often since December the other year--- not anymore a fun thing, she thinks. It is usually Taeyeon or Jessica bringing up food they prepared so that baby Yoona will really eat. And sometimes it isn’t enough for her, but she doesn’t complain at all. This actually goes on until the late January when Yoona delibrately tells them to stop it because she can just sit with them for dinner and eat with them. They need not worry. But her health argues more and more until the end of the school year and now she’s here, as skinny as a ‘baseball bat’ Sunny says.

She stops and plays with her mango juice. Quiet again, like the first time Changmin manages to talk to her. She is too timid, too silent--- when this girl it not even what he is after, not his ideal type but here is, doing every way he can to help her, be with her, make her happy and all. She’s right about one thing him being the dorkiest shit in town.

“You don’t love him.”

She stares at him for a long time, trying to read between the creases of his frown and the eyelids fluttering away. “Pardon?”

“Taecyeon,” Changmin replies, uncaring anymore. “You don’t love him, I’m sure.”

“Of course I do,” she hastens to answer after gawking. Really now... does she? Or is it just Yuri who has been bossing her to go out with him to forget Kibum, as if it actually worked? “Of course I love him. I wouldn’t be dating him if I didn’t---”

“You don’t.”

“I do! I slept with him the other week, how can I not be in love with my boyfriend...” suddenly, she realizes she is spewing all of the reasons, all the other reasons couples out there will use to defend their relationship, to defend that they are okay and very much in love. “I do love Taecyeon. We’re still very together. We’re having our anniversary in February.”

“Just because you slept with him doesn’t mean you love him,” he replies, Yoona stupified. “You know, like you and Kibum?” She is unable to speak, hardens as a rock, freezes with his words. “You want the truth, Yoona?” he stops her from giving more reasons. “I read your diary.”

She is stunned.

He sets his food aside and gazes at her. “Yoona, do you think Kibum would have liked it for you to be playing pretends especially with yourself?”

She is speechless. Yet again, she notices how Changmin is able to enter the mazes in her mind, as though he has known her for so long, but maybe he has because of her diary, reading a year’s qualms and frustrations. Maybe he knows a part of her, not entirely all of it, but he knows, and now he is using that against her. Maybe he likes to see her hurt, that little sadist.

She pauses, mouth dropping, eyes starting to water. That name, why does Changmin have to be like that? Does he have that right to slap the reality back to her face all at once? Even her unnies in the dormitory never mention it, ever again, for they fear that Yoona will have a panic attack just by worrying, remembering, loving this man that probably has not fallen in love with her.

“Why do you settle for Taecyeon, Yoona? Huh?” Changmin starts with another attack, rather softly now that he sees Yoona weakening. “Why Taecyeon? The jock know-it-all? Mr. Perfect? Why him? When it can be anyone else. Key for example, didn’t you go out with him before? Or... other Theatre Arts students? Someone you already know? Someone who already... knows you?” Someone like me, Changmin wants to shout that straight but can’t, his heart can’t take what her reaction will be like.

“You speak like you know everything,” Yoona replies very lightly, almost a whisper. “Kibum and I never went out. We never said we loved each other. But I know we did. We didn’t use words to express it. You have no right to butt into my life and just tell me who I should date.”

“I’m just saying you don’t love him, and he particularly doesn’t love you,” Changmin reasons out, unafraid. “Did you know he’s been two-timing you with Yuri? Do you know that?”

There isn’t any hint of speculation on her face at this. Yoona sits down, calmer now, and faces Changmin with those teary eyes. “I do, actually. I just let it pass; thought I shouldn’t be angry at the two people who had been taking care of me since Kibum left.”

“Oh god, do you hear yourself up there?” Changmin’s voice volumes up a notch. “I swear, it’s not fair that you’re staying in 2010 while we are on our way to meet 2012. Do you get what I mean, Yoona? And see, I proved how much you don’t actually love him.”

December 17, 2011; Dear Diary,

Changmin’s right. For one thing, I didn’t love Taecyeon. And as I was about to make a phone call the other time to end it off, I enter our room finding him and Yuri-unnie. Together. On my bed. Yes, my bed. Not hers. Homework—pfft. Although they were shocked to see me just barging in without knocking, I defended that it’s not really my fault because it is also my room, somehow unnie and I didn’t fight about it. Nor did Taecyeon and I ever talk about it. We just stopped seeing each other. Yuri still isn’t talking to me though and I’m not trying to make any sign of peace either. It’s a little difficult because we share a room so I sleep with Jessica instead while the new maknae is her roommate. It’s just partial, I guess. I forgot how to smile again, thanks to Changmin’s words of wisdom, and because Kibum once again comes into my mind more often like the norm I used to be. Come on, everybody knows Yoona is always like this: silent, deadly, uninterested of the world and cares nothing but herself. Yeah. I don’t know how I’ll be taking this, now that tomorrow’s the last day in campus. After that, we’ll be leaving back to our own towns and families.

“You know, if you would want to air out all your anger, I’m all ears, and basically better than your diary. Come by the bar, I’ve got something for you.- SCM”

His text messages really are efficient in plastering that smile back on her face. She ties her scarf around her neck and hastily replies, “Well SCM, I bet I can squeeze that in my schedule. And yes, presents!- IYA”

“As long as you don’t cry, I’ll manage.- SCM”

“I don’t cry,” she says this out loud, realizing that only Seohyun is across her, watching the latest updates on the weather. She looks at her unnie oddly, apparently still stuck on messaging someone, before feeling her own cell phone vibrate.

“Omo,” she mumbles, eyeing the other girl. “Yoona-unnie, Kyuhyun-oppa just texted me.”

Yoona gazes back, her dull expression again as though all the feelings died out of her. This is usually what she wears to school, to classes, in front of the other people, all except for Changmin, who has seen a different side of her, the other joyous Yoona who he has transformed every time they would meet.

“What about it, Seohyun-ah?” she hastily asks, waiting for Changmin’s reply.

“Kibum-oppa...he’s...he’s back,” she answers timidly, Yoona dropping her cell phone to the ground. All of the world stops, as though the cold air, Seohyun fluttering eyelids, and even her phone crashing and having its batteries out is no longer of significance.

She can’t even dare to have Seohyun clarify it, repeat it again. A hand over her mouth, she smiles lightheartedly as though seeing there can be miracles in this world after all. “Really? He has?”

Seohyun grins to find Yoona with that carefree attitude again. “Yes, he really has. But...he would be staying only for a week. He would be getting back to America by Christmas.”

Nonetheless, this is still great news, Yoona even thinks so. She bolts upright in glee, hands both to her chest, and starts to make her way up to her room before returning once again with a question popping out of her mind.

“Where is Kibum right now?” she wonders solemnly, Seohyun pointing to the outside.

“He’s out drinking with the boys at the bar we usually go to,” the maknae answers, tucking her phone back inside her pocket. “You know where that is, right?”

It is a bar all of them are familiar with, where they usually hang out on Friday nights to take drinks, where Yoona drowns herself in alcohol when she gets bored, where Changmin is now patiently waiting for her.

He sits there, uneasy and nervous, wondering why in the world she suddenly stops replying. He calls her, but the service is unavaible all suddenly. Worrying, he contacts Sooyoung, the girl he knows to be one of Yoona’s friends and Changmin is surprised with her response.

“She’s meeting Kibum today, that girl.”

And a roar of laughter and cheers of mockery somehow seems too real and vivid, about a second later he realizes that they are. He is seated in the higher portion of the bar, second floor in fact, just facing the entrance of the bar so he can easily see her entering. Lopsidedly, he looms below, notices where all the noise is coming from, and his heart breaks.

Yoona is there, standing, nearly teary, while a man and his back faces Changmin. And they are surrounded by a group of boys, probably older than he is, and all of them are chortling the loudest in the whole bar. The guy ends up opening his arms and without hestitaion, Yoona is in them, embracing him back, burrying her tomato face on his shoulder before Changmin realizes that this has been what Yoona wanted.

For a year, she has waited for this and by now, after reading her dear diary entries, he should have known the feeling he has for her, though so strong, will not be returned. Not ever. As long as a man holds her heart captive, wherever he may be, Yoona will run to him. And Changmin has no right to interfere anymore and nor the new purple diary he bought yesterday to cheer her up, will be of mere significance.

He picks the diary up sadly, opening the first page that already has her name on it and flips another one more to see his own handwriting. He still will have to find a good hiding place for this, maybe an attic or a trash bin.

December 18, 2011; To dear Yoona,

Have a great Christmas. And I know you’ll say it’s stupid and I just ruined the first page of a really pretty notebook, but I had to give you something before the break. I love you, always will.

From Shim Changmin.

Valentine Vacation

wintercreamed — Fri, 17 Feb 2012 00:41:02 GMT

Title: Valentine Vacation
Pairing: Leeteuk-Taeyeon, Kyuhyun-Seohyun, Changmin-Yoona, Sungmin-Sunny, Donghae-Jessica, Eunhyuk-Hyoyeon
Genre: Romance
Rating: PG-13

17. Worries; Leeteuk-Taeyeon; Romance

Valentine’s Day. And they were going out, as a family. What in the world was Lee Sooman suddenly thinking?

She thought about it over and over again, realizing the last party the company had was four days ago, where Sooyoung turned twenty-two (or 23 in Korea, that is), and everyone got drunk and celebrated it together. She hardly remembered now where Sooyoung slept during that time, beacause she disappeared after the buffet table was emptied.

All other schedules they had for the day were cancelled; everyone in fact--- the younger groups also coming along to what was planned to be a beach resort, where SM himself had reserved. Maybe because the sun was hot today, the ground was clearing, and signs of spring, although its expected delivery a month away, was blooming.

“What are you thinking?” Someone whispered to her ear instantly, making her bolt up awake and realizing that they were in the van, some of the girls at the back while a few of the SHINee boys along.

The two of them were seated beside each other, the row closest to the driver.

She sighed, looking at him. “Don’t scare me like that!”

He grinned at her reaction. “I don’t want to be a pervert or anything, but...errr, you’re bra is kind of...revealing itself to me.”

“Yah!” she snorted in laughter, slapping the oppa’s shoulder. “Eeteuk-oppa should really get a life.” Blushing, Taeyeon fixed the straps and hid them under her oversized shirt.

“You’re so uptight,” Leeteuk commented. “It’s not like we haven’t been to the beach before.”

“Well, it just worries me,” Taeyeon admitted. “I mean... we should be performing in Music Bank or somewhere else.”

With one free hand, Leeteuk placed his arm over her shoulder, forcing her to be close to him, and before she knew it, he already had her head lean on his shoulder. His body was warm, must be the weather, but after which she eventually felt secured, safe and that everything else will be all right.

“Wouldn’t this be the last time we get to have fun together?” He grasped her hands and held them tightly.

She smiled at the thought that not too long from now, he’d be leaving indeed. She looked into his eyes, in nostalgia already that he’d be gone.

“Let’s make it last, then.”

18. The Earring; Kyuhyun-Seohyun; Romance; based on a dream I had

Because she had some appointment she couldn’t leave behind, running now to one of the huts where they stayed, Seohyun found her unnies and the other groups taking out the food they all prepared and putting them in the table in the middle. The resort was deserted, all thanks to Lee Sooman’s decisive reservations and persuasions to have it closed for their benefit.

With her hands fiddling with her right ear, Seohyun found out that she left the dormitory with only a single earring.

“Ah, she’s finally here!”

Yoona spotted her nearing them, Seohyun still in her jeans and shirt. She hastily approached the maknae. “Why don’t you go change? I’ve picked out some clothes for you to wear. They’re in the last van.”

Seohyun smiled lightly in gratitude and went out again, opening the rear door of the van and she climbed in. Where did her unnie put it, exactly; she wasn’t quite sure though, but it appeared like everyone really packed up, their luggage for their night stay in this beach behind.

With the door closed, Seohyun rummaged through the bags in search for Yoona’s own, hoping that she wouldn’t stumble into anything not worth stumbling upon. And then suddenly by the driver seat’s window came in a knock, her eyes lighting up to see that it was locked (well, it was even before she entered). Hurriedly, she stumbled towards the second row of the van, stretched towards the door and opened it herself, his face ever so stoic, ever so handsome that she couldn’t pull out the reasons why suddenly birds were singing in her ears, or that she must be, simply must be, crazy.

“Hey,” she greeted him. Now it was his turn to smile.

Careful not to spill himself with it, he climbed into the van with two bowls of ice cream in his hand, showing her two different flavors. One bowl, and actually the one with more content, was creamy vanilla, with some strawberry swirls that if observed more clearly, shaped like hearts. In his other one was chocolate, plain chocolate, but that was the flavor nobody, not even the heavens, could resist.

“Pick one,” he said in his deep voice.

While he was seated in the driver seat, Seohyun at the back of him, she could clearly see which one took more effort to make.

“The vanilla one,” Seohyun answered briefly, Kyuhyun looking at both of his hands and wondering what made her choose it. He handed it to her along with the spoon.

“What made you come here?” She took one bite of the coldness, the filling and sweetness in it racing in ecstasy.

He shrugged pleasantly, happy to see her this way. “Thought I’d share some with you. You ruined my plan, though.”

“What?”

Again, he made that uncaring gaze, pulling out from the chocolate bowl a piece of earring. Already covered in brown, he gave it to Seohyun, both of them laughing at this scenario. Well, he wasn’t every amazing at these romantic stuff. Sungmin after all, suggested that he should do it for Seohyun.

She took off her other present earring, despite how quite perfect it looked now, and felt like the luckiest girl in the world after finding the missing pair.

19. Sea Breeze; Changmin-Yoona; Romance

Diving straight into the beach and splashing to each other’s faces the salty sea, the hubaes of the company where already on chasing and playing games while a few of those who did not feel like coming out just yet, stayed on the sand, seated and facing the sea breeze.

She had her legs folded toward her chest, hugging it closely as it would seem the coldness widened even more, eating up the heat experienced earlier.

“Feeling cold there, Yoona?”

The girl automatically turned when she heard his voice that rather concerned voice, heavy and edgy. He was standing, his bare torso exposed also to it, and some red Hawaiian shorts that matched the occasion. Not alone, Yoona noticed, as his Yunho-hyung was behind, with those prying eyes that is, and a slightly obvious repressed cackle.

Changmin turned to him and glared, shaking his head and gesturing to the beach so he could party with the rest. Yunho, despite how he acted more child-like than the maknae, skipped with a beach ball in his hand, passing it to Jonghyun, tasked to put up the net.

She was wearing what appeared to be a bikini, the first time Changmin had seen of her, only the lower part was hidden in white shorts. The curves and a slightly bulging tummy due to lunch was definitely something he had to avoid gazing at like some pervert. Yoona, of all the girls he knew in the company, hated to be gawked upon, especially by men she was already quite acquainted with.

She nodded, smiling at the oppa. “Yeah. Quite cold.”

“You...don’t want to go play?” He could even feel his words staggering. God, he was so obvious, really; no wonder Yunho liked to tease him about it.

Yoona shook her head nonchalantly. “Nope. Too tired.”

Practically one of the best conversation wreckers, Changmin stared at the sky, how the clouds immediately streamed forth to the middle of the day. “I think it’ll rain soon.” By his side was his luggage, already opened beacause annoying Yunho took his towel out of there, and so revealed all of his other clothing. He grabbed the white blanket on top of his and his hyung’s extra shirts, and handed it to Yoona shyly.

It took more than half of a minute before the girl eventually accepted it, also in the same timid manner and wrapped herself into it as Changmin started his way to the others to play some volleyball.

A too late smile came across her porcelain face, eying the man from afar.

“Changmin-oppa!” Was she even allowed to call him that, Yoona disregarded that troublesome idea behind.

He stared at her now upon the call, the straight face weakening as she waved back.

“Thank you!”

20. Staring Contest; Sungmin-Sunny; Romance

Apparently since the rain was unstoppable, the kids were requested to stay in their huts until the weather evened, and that no swimming until then, and until Onew, with his searing sunburn on the face was healed. To their boredom, some of them thought of playing the more common indoor games they had, until eventually, the two were paired up together, to compete with each other.

“I can go five minutes without blinking,” Sungmin bragged and Sunny scoffed at the bluff.

“Really, now,” Sunny sat in front of him, as Luna held her stopwatch out in wait. They both crossed their legs on top of the bench and waited for the go signal. In preparation, she had her eyes closed, knowing this would take long indeed with the unfazed champ now her opponent.

“And start!”

He flopped his eyes open, gazing at Sunny’s own, those small ones that slid so smoothly, her nose in perfect harmony, eyebrows definitely in the right place. She didn’t smile yet, so immersed in the job she needed to perform and with this Sungmin couldn’t help but grin so widely. Really, he was the best at this.

The first minute passed, and now Sunny panicked because her eyes felt hot almost in an instant. Sungmin remained calm, knowing that there was no use in trying. Then she let out a very short momentous laugh, not ever blinking though because she would lose, but still so very well objected to complete the mission.

“Give up.”

“No.”

Sungmin smiled. “You’re crying.”

“I will not,” Sunny stated, although it was obvious.

“Yes, you are.”

Sunny bit her lip. “I will not. God, Sungmin, this is hurting me.”

Without looking into any other direction except her eyes, he reached for her hands, cold hands now because of the anxiety and held them together in his as the crowd howled seeing them do this. A blush came to Sunny’s face for it, but her eyes were already leaking with tears, searing probably from irritation as they twitched in patient control not to let the lids fall.

“I can do this,” she muttered so very determinedly.

Sungmin, now controlling his own eyes to betray him, gripped her fingers tightly. “It’s too difficult. Just stop it.”

“No!”

Without much choice and knowing that he really would be having a hard time in forcing a stubborn Sunny, he closed his eyes then so very long and rested, while eventually, all he could hear was a roar of boo and cheers, almost mixed together (Kyuhyun seemed to be the only one, the loudest one, shouting boo) in an unforgettable noise. Her laughter also callously came into action and Sungmin opened his eyes in defeat.

“You made me win,” she whispered, still not letting go of his hand. And still in this position, Sungmin swiped away the remaining tears that were in her own cheeks and lids.

“I didn’t want to see you cry, that’s why. That’s why I closed my eyes.”

21. Sand; Donghae-Jessica; Romance

The sun, slowing down the moment it sunk halfway the clear horizon, painted the sky orange, fantasy-like now and majestic that it captivated a few remaining awake ones to witness it. Well, since Boa thought it would be nice to actually have a nap time contest, the bored crowd even found it an astounding game. Now, only a few were still around the beach, the others (who joined the girl’s interesting idea) in their lounges already, tucked in beds in wait for dinner in a few hours.

But he wasn’t one for sleeping, though. And as much as it pained her, she too stuck with him on it. I mean, it wasn’t every day that you could watch the sunset together, right? How many couples around the world these days are able to see this beauty? Ah, wrong --- how many busy couples could?

“Let’s stop walking,” she suggested, feeling the sand get pricky all of a sudden under her toes. The waves no longer danced like high tide earlier, but they chased after the sand, climbing up until it reached his toes.

He smiled at the idea. “But the sunset isn’t over yet.”

She giggled unhappily. “Really! You weren’t this kind of guy a few years ago. Back then, what I said would actually go without anymore complains!”

“But that was a few years ago,” he said proudly, hands on his waist. “This Donghae is a new man now.”

Again, she couldn’t hold back the laughter, that habit of covering her mouth, more pleased than ever, cackling in much grace that he couldn’t help but beam at her for it. “Since when did you change? I mean, you’re still...pretty much yourself.”

“And you still like me for it, right?”

His arms still opened Jessica slipped her own, her body close to his, as smoothly as the time when she was afraid of being scolded and he was there to protect her. “I love you still.”

He smiled in pure reminiscence while she looked at him with the same equal nostalgia inside. “Guess I was right.”

“Oh,” Sica stared at him patiently, pointing by his eyes. “There’s... something in your eye. Don’t move. Let me take it out.”

But before she could make more effort to take whatever it was out, Donghae flinched suddenly, marked with a surprised grunt and now rubbing both of his eyes all together. Goodness, what was it... he couldn’t really tell now as they itched and irritated him, Jessica somewhere around him chuckling and ranting all at the same time.

“Wait, wait! Hold on,” she ordered, gripping his shoulders so he could stop squirming and she could, in some way, take a good look at it now. “Open your eyes. Come on.”

Desperately, he did what was told, but it took time to swallow such pride in him, surrendering to her like that maybe. The beach was blurry, nothing clear in his presence now except the curves of her body that is, the pink bikini she wore and loose over garment. Other than that, perhaps also her voice coming to action, nothing was clear.

“Ahh, what the fuck was it...” he blinked once and twice; still nothing was appearing right. Until Jessica held his face to her level, placed two fingers and stretched his left eyelid.

“I’m going to give it a blow, okay?”

She immediately did it without further warning, without an on three signal, three times in fact---- smooth and sweet smelling breath touching his eyes. Donghae again blanched at this even more, quirky in slapping her hands off of him and rubbed his eyes again.

Then he stared at the horizon, and the shades of purple and blue enlightened it so beautifully, twilight entering. He looked at Jessica, hands crossed over her chest, eyebrows raised.

“Well?”

Accepting this, Donghae smirked, shaking his head and wrapping his hands around the girl’s shoulders, before eventually, aside from the struggling remarks from Jessica, kissing her on the cheek.

“You’re the real magic.”

22. Barbeque; Eunhyuk-Hyoyeon; Romance

By the fire in the middle of the table the meat burned, twirled in sticks, with a sauce of red spicy stuff. Siwon, only one who hated spicy, raced towards his cabin and took canned tuna instead, sharing it with nobody because it would not be even enough for himself.

As the singing continued and rice being passed on from person to person, he stopped to see her with nothing on her plate. Curious and a bit anxious, he gave her seatmate a questioning look, finger also pointed there.

“Are you...on a diet?”

She laughed, shaking her head. “I thought I’d let everyone get their food first.”

“So you’re not going to eat?” Hyukjae asked in some shocked manner. “Really, Hyoyeon? You? Of all people? Resist barbeque night?”

She rolled her eyes playufully. “I will eat! I said I will, don’t worry.”

Eunhyuk squinted those single-eyelid eyes and gazed at his own food, taking four sticks of barbecue for himself, the rest of his hyungs and dongsaeng’s sharing a great deal of ghost stories and some horrible jokes from Kai and Luhan. The big rice bowl in the middle was emptied already, and for this, you had to get up, order again for another bowl and pay for it (since their Daddy SM said he wouldn’t pay excess).

Hyoyeon simply sighed to herself, slowly getting up all before Hyukjae, those hasty hands, seized her back again to her seat. Getting a stick and placing it at once to her mouth, the man took a spoonful of his own rice and shared it with Hyoyeon, putting half now to her plate.

She took the stick out and glared. “Hyukjae-sshi!”

“What? You weren’t eating!” he reasoned out, shrugging. “I had to do something.”

“That’s right and I was going to go get my own,” Hyoyeon answered him sharply.

He was deliberately gripping her wrists too far too strong, even Taeyeon now, across the table, was eying them out of concern.

“Oi, what’s going on?”

Hyoyeon pulled back her hand, scoffing. “He’s messing with me again.”

“That’s because she wasn’t eating!”

“I was about to!”

He scoffed indignantly. “Reasons! I saw how you rejected food!”

Kyuhyun, out of nowhere, interrupted the argument, beaming at Hyoyeon as if ready to let her know of something. “You see, Hyoyeon. Our Hyukjae is just very worried of you. When he saw you not taking out food from the dishes being passed on, he took four sticks of barbecue, when clearly he could only consume two. The other two were in fact for you. And, it doesn’t stop there. He took rice twice the meal he could finish, also again for you.”

To his left Victoria laughed, and Kyuhyun shared a high-five with Changmin, seated also next to him.

“That’s right! And you’ll just--- wait, what?” Stunned and now blushing at the realization, Eunhyuk’s cheeks, in fact his whole face, bloomed into full redness, like a tomato, quite rapidly indeed. If there was anything more evil than the maknae himself, it was how his eyes worked out a way of doubt and into suspicion.

“That’s not right,” he mumbled again, dumbfounded and now staring at Hyoyeon in wonder.

“Is that true?” she smiled.

Shyly, he crossed his legs below the table, all eyes, including the ones in the farthest ends were on the two of them. It made his heart even more nervous at this--- thanks a tad bunch for it, Kyuhyun. Silence filled the dining hall, crickets singing the monotone end, then and there he closed his eyes and sighed.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he remarked, laughing aloud as Hyoyeon sat next to him, grinning also in great confusion and enjoyment. This Valentine’s Day was special to all of them, maybe to her also. Practically Hyukjae indeed, would not dare a singly admit Kyuhyun busted him of his secret agenda. Again.

Well, Hyoyeon thought, whatever they were, he was still nonetheless sweet for being like that.

Throwing Punches

wintercreamed — Fri, 27 Jan 2012 15:38:50 GMT

Throwing Punches
Pairing: Minho-Krystal
Genre: Angst/ AU
To Kim. Lovely innocent Kim.

Soojung wasn’t stupid, and she wasn’t one for boyfriends either. She knew that being in love made one look stupid, and if her sister Sooyeon had taught her anything worth remembeing, perhaps it was the idea of falling. Prince charming, wherever he may be, whether he existed or not, should not be trusted; sometimes prince charmings would not even come out of their fairy tales, those big old cowards.

But Soojung’s life really revolved in a story book, and just maybe that could have been the reason why she believed she could defy looking stupid when she couldn’t, and defy a heart from breaking when it was already proven true.

The big firsts--- first crush, first date, first kiss--- were the trend upon being a high school kid. But Soojung hardly cared, although it was always a bothersome thought that she did not belong here at all. She didn’t have much friends; they went and come. But none remained. It was also another trend she had gotten used to.

Her first year in an average school down south of Incheon was as mundane and as ordinary as a rock. Very boring, Soojung would remind her mother every time she asked about it. Well, it could also be because she didn’t make any friends.

“But my friends are back there, mom.”

“Do you want to come back and study here instead?”

It was cheaper to study in Korea than in America, her mother already cleared that one out, and Sooyeon wanted to be a doctor so badly so studying here meant less effort for their mother, solving her cases with loan sharks.

But she just had to somehow, some time in the future. Soojung sighed over the phone. “If you can afford it again, take me back.”

“Your older sister?”

“She’s doing fine, but comes home late often nowadays,” she told her mom. “After Sooyeon graduates, may I go with her and just study college in San Francisco?”

A soft chuckle that reminded her of home came from the other line. “It must be lonesome living alone with her. If you want it so badly, then I might as well do so.”

“Thank you!” Soojung responded.

“In return, would you please make friends while you’re in high school?”

If it weren't so hard already trying not to be bullied mother “I’ll try.”

Friends she say, Soojung would scoff at it and lock herself immediately inside her room upon hearing the door to the apartment click. It meant Sooyeon had arrived from her shift.

-o0o-

But second year was different, or at least she promised herself it would be. The first few weeks were already a few of the most miserable days in existence, trying to survive school by lurking in the library or somehow hiding in the gym. When both of those places were full, Soojung usually moved to the field and write there. Write? Well, it wasn’t something she was actually fond of, but it really was something Sooyeon her sister had suggested. It was good, practicing the dialect this way than actually speaking. That was, since she had no one to practice it with.

Of course, she was known to be the American girl and her classmates really tried their best to be friends with her, invite her to slumber parties and such, and she always did come. She never declined a party, because Sooyeon also forced her to attend all. But somehow, if it was the way she was raised, she always found these things to be boring. And so other lip glossed lower-intellect tried to mess with her, make fun of her until her popularity went down the so-called status quo. She didn’t mind again, and it bothered her only for a little.

While on the bleachers, as the sun started setting, she was in the desserted field, and the track at one glance seemed like it too, but she later on realized it wasn’t. The funny thing about the field was that despite the wide empty space, it always felt lonesome, and that was something Soojung had liked very much. Solitary.

But he was there. Running excessively as though it profited him, although Soojung couldn’t be so sure about it either anway. He had his black hair reaching his brows, covering a small portion of long lashes perhaps---Soojung couldn’t also quite be assured then if they were long, she was only looking at it from afar. His eyes, though like not of a Korean, were clear and perfect and absolutely stressed, if she wasn’t mistaken. And he ran, his body lean, so straight and firm. Ever since she stayed out late, she hadn't noticed him doing this, or it could be because she was too busy.

The guy finally slowed down, bending, hands both on his knees, sweat dripping on the ground.

To her side was her bag where she kept almost every single kind of tablet or capsule Sooyeon always made her carry. And of course it wouldn’t be complete without a bottle of water, which Soojung thankfully realized she just finished half of it.

Whistling since she didn’t not want to yell at the boy, Soojung called him this way and caught his attention. He looked up and she waved worriedly and rather warily as she set aside her things and finally deciding in nearing him. As she went closer, she realized he was tall, his shoes worn out from chasing around laps.

She handed him the bottle, in which he just gazed at for seconds and panted. Forcibly, Soojung pushed it to his chest and it was still a bit cold on his skin, but he took it and opened.

“See, you’re pretty obedient.”

“Pardon?” he twisted the cap and then took a drink. His arms weren’t slender at all like hers, because the bumps and nuggets were right there, in all the places all the models on TV had, and for someone who had a few meat in them, it didn’t make him look mature for his age at all.

“What are you doing here, anyway? Isn’t the track restricted or something?” She wasn’t good with conversations actually; she was the best at killing them.

He chuckled half-heartedly, closing the bottle and handing it back. “Or you should ask yourself that, little missy.”

She scowled. “Rather rude to call someone that who had just given you water.”

“There’s a drinking fountain over there,” he reasoned out, pointing his lips at the other end of the field.

“Ungrateful,” mumbled Soojung as she started her way back to the bleachers to pick up her things and start heading home.

“Choi Minho,” the guy shouted at her, her bag over her shoulder and books over her chest. Still plodding in large heavy steps down the bleachers, Soojung looked at him before throwing her tongue out.

“Jung Soojung,” she introduced in the same manner, in the same intensity and then she left in an instant, making the boy smile at her presence.

-o0o-

Soojung had that day marked, the day when cupid had been trying to chase her down, hunt her down in fact, and she did her best hiding from him before that arrow hits her. She didn’t like Choi Minho; on the contrary, she detested his very being every time the bell rung. She was smarter than him, she later on noticed, for she was in section 2-a, while he belonged in 2-b. Basically it didn’t matter, their rooms only separated by a wall, but it surprised Soojung even more when she received an anonymous number. It was, as far as being expected was concerned, from Minho, that little stalker--- how the fuck did he get it, Soojung even retorted back one text message. He didn’t even gave a single reply until she had to confront him, in the hallways this time bceause it appeared that they really bump into each other that often.

“The contacts book they pass out every start of the year,” he answered with a devious smile. “I saved every number from our batch---”

“Liar,” she cut him off, poking his shoulder. “Very funny, Minho. Now I have to change contacts because of you. Sooyeon would not only be devasted, she’d bitch about why the hell I have to.”

“And then you give me the new one,” Minho stated, laughing more and more as the bell rung, Soojung marching towards their homeroom without another word. Really, he knew how to get on her nerves.

And not only did he do it in reality, he even ‘bullied’ (since Soojung always referred people teasing her as bullies) her to no extent in text messages. It was funny really, for every time he would leave a message, Soojung would have that fluttery feeling inside of her, that long lost feeling of pride and irritation that eventually turned into a critical aspect or emotion she had needed every now again. Sugar rush, like her mother would say when she was a bit younger, was exactly the right term for it too. Soojung never liked too sweet things, but she knew what happened when the body had too much sweetness in it.

She decided not to change numbers after a few exchanges of sarcasms and concerns on the phone.

“I’ll go have a walk in the park,” she asked permission from her sister, the one still in her pajamas now and taking care of her alone in the sad apartment uptown Incheon.

Sooyeon looked at her with prying eyes, mouth squibbled with milk. “That’s the first. Isn’t laziness one of Soojung’s famous masterpieces?”

She smiled haphazardly. “Good things come to those who wait. But a fallen apple will not roll towards your doorstep alone.”

“Oh god, stop reading things,” the older girl stated, going back to the living room with a bowl of cereal in her hands. The girl knew what that meant, so she fastened her player by her waist and tied her shoelaces strictly before going out. Sooyeon didn’t like walking, nor jogging, nor running--- perhaps it ran in the blood because Soojung also did not like it but she felt it was time to burn a few fats after decades of not doing so.

The park would be filled with people from different walks of life, from different races to different ages, even birds flapping from tree to tree. The old woman, Soojung remembered a year ago, who fed the wandering birds was still here, sitting by her bench and some food arrangement in her hands. Children with balloons that floated into the air were running about, hyperactive even on an early morning. 9:34 am, right Soojung. Early morning.

Because it was a Saturday, the place was indeed packed and the melodious singing of her famous group in her headphones added to the headache that started coming about. She focused more on jogging by the fountain, her legs a bit tired and sore so she stopped, sitting on the ledges where her back got slightly wet.

Upon turning left, she saw Minho throwing coins down the fountain. She ignored this for a second and continued panting, and then Soojung wondered why the hell was he here all of the quick sudden, she gazed up at him, more awestruck than ever.

“Minho?”

“Soojung?” he also sounded shocked, natural tone this time so Soojung’s suspicions of him following her, disappeared into dust. “Well, what are you doing here?”

“I came out to have a walk,” she reasoned out, hands on her waist. “And you?”

“I don’t know, just... thought to give the orphanage some boost by a fundraiser. You hear that music at the main plaza? My friends and I set it up. We kind of thought people would come see live a debuting group. Still earning though, because they’re singing all kinds of genre. And it’s fun.”

She stood up and tried approaching him, but her ankles got tired from all of it that she tripped without meaning to, and Minho’s arms were immediately holding her up again in an instant. The world seemed quiet all of a sudden, or Soojung had really needed to go see a specialist for her ears. It was too silent and tranquil, that the noise seemed to dry out, sucked into a vortex of unknown quietness. Holding on quite firmly on Minho, she looked up at their rather awkward situation, their eyes meeting, his deep cut eyes that looked so cautious over her, wondering if she ever was okay or if she had done something with her hair---or either way, it showed concern, and Soojung had always noticed that kind of feel when he was around. But they were somehow different and heavy. Like a burden was always over them because he looked tired one way or another, just like the first time they had met in the track.

She started laughing at this heartily, moving away and covering her mouth in a timid way.

“See what missing out on breakfast do,” Minho complained, scratching the back of his head. She looked over him again, and if it was rather weird, but his eyes were watery and red, and twitchy, but still, they shed this awful sense of concern over her.

“What’s with your eyes?”

He looked at her this time. “Hmm?"

“Your eyes. They’re all red and puffy. What’s with them?” Soojung curiously questioned. He closed them first, grinning at the girl.

“Playing Starcraft with the boys all night for the whole week,” he answered.

She scoffed, arms crossed over her chest. “That explains the 3 o’ clock messages you leave me. Why the hell do you guys even bother with that stupid game, I swear it’s a painful thing. Look what’s gotten into you. You practically look like a zombie.”

“Do you want me to stop playing it?”

Soojung smirked. “If you can actually pull yourself away from your laptop, I’d say yes. I want you to stop playing it.”

“Then I will do it since you’ve asked so nicely.” Minho laughed, splashing some fountain water unto his face. Soojung did not quite catch on what he meant by that but she plugged on her earphones and decided to head for home.

“Yah!” he called, and Soojung turned still in wonder, her eyes quite intimidating much like the aura she possesed.

“What?” she snapped back.

“You’re a good jogger,” Minho joked and she managed to laugh, although she couldn’t be quite sure why she did it.

Soojung waved in good bye. “Coming from someone who runs, I suppose that could be a compliment as well?”

-o0o-

They weren’t friends though, because it was something she did not need from him. Minho wasn’t the friendly type, and there wasn’t that cordial bond going on in between, Soojung knew. They were mere acquaintances, nothing more, and that they would text each other at night, until the very late night, until Sooyeon arrived at her latest shift, and Soojung would still be awake inside her room, enjoying the company of someone not physically present.

She headed to the field once more and found that he was there, just in time, resting. Soojung threw her bottle into the air, after calling out his name and he turned, his reflexes just as quick, catching the water.

“I keep forgetting to ask you though,” Soojung then approached, handing him now also a piece of cloth so he could wipe his sweat in her presence. They sat together in one of the bleachers, now just the two of them, as the twilight slowly grew deeper now, and the first few small stars started coming out. “What’s the running for?”

He laughed after drinking the water. “Oh yeah, I haven’t told you about that one either. It’s nothing, really. At the end of the month, there’s this running competition open to all students of the school. I thought I’d run. I’ll get a one hundred thousand won if I win first place. But I don’t know yet what to do with the money, though.”

“Treat me to lunch, okay?” Soojung sighed. “That’s so tiring, the run. I’ll even be shock if you don’t win it.”

“You always find everything tiring, Soojung,” Minho told her, his knuckles softly brushing her cheek. “Why don’t I walk you home? It’s going to rain soon.”

“Yeah, thought I’d take a cab,” she answered in denial. “I don’t like walking. The rain might pour out all of a sudden.” She looked up, actually both of them did so, and the sky darkened in an instant before a light splatter of rain on each of their cheeks came. She smiled brightly, putting all the stars coming out to shame that time, and looked at Minho at the suddeness of the water immediately crashing down to Earth in the following seconds that took less than a mere minute to accumulate.

“Too soon,” Soojung’s bursts of laughter also caused Minho to laugh aloud, pulling immediately both of their things as they hid under the seats, the smell of wet wood seething through the open but at least they were partially untouched.

“You’ll get sick, I assure you of this,” she told him while he shrugged off, disheveling her hair.

“Don’t act all strong because you’ll get sick with me,” Minho told her off and another round of awkward chuckling came, their glances set apart as they stood close beside each other. Her skin against his was very warm, home-like, and while she also felt the same way.

Knowing that she would regret it later on, but only Sooyeon would actually give much shit about it, Soojung hastily seized both of his hands, dropping their things into the rain-soaked grass and both of them launched in for the kill, conquered the rain and ran in the track like little pigs, their shoes being filled as they stepped on puddles. The fog in the field got denser, but neither one mind, racing against each other even when it was tiresome, teasing each one that they were weak or slow or that they were cheating.

There wasn’t a single minute that smiles were not evident.

-o0o-

Months passed, barely letting know Soojung that her second year was ending, and Sooyeon was already graduating from medical school. It was at this time that she had seen Minho with an older woman, practically in the graduating class of their high school. She had seen the girl often, the unnie if they would based it on honorifics, the dancing queen of the place. They were at the field, at the bleachers were Soojung and Minho used to talk until twilight came. It was their spot, and Soojung thought it was nice to come out here again after quite some time.

He seemed happy, teasing the other girl here and there, a few words by her ear and a kiss on the cheek. Soojung held her phone out whimsically, typing slowly as though she had not yet adapted to the reality.

“You didn’t tell me that you and Yuri-unnie were dating.”

From worm’s view below, she creeped under the bleachers and watched her breath turn nervous as Minho pulled out his phone, seeing the text message. No longer than a minute later, his reply arrived.

“Well, yeah. Sorry about that. But you didn’t even tell me that you and Taemin were dating.”

Taemin? As in the kid from 2-b who pulled off a pretty awesome Michael Jackson moonwalk during the Christmas party? He must have been joking her really, that Soojung hurriedly scurried back to her homeroom, holding her mouth out before she could laugh it aloud. Minho really misunderstood that.

“We are not. That was just a dance battle. I swear, we hang out afterwards but nothing went after it.”

Minho had no longer minded this plainly because he too seemed far too busy to care about Soojung. Even when it was slightly restricted nowadays, they still would have lunch together in the cafeteria, and they would still run after each other in the track (but now only in the mornings where all the other kids were around); perhaps that was the most important thing for Soojung. That their friendship would last, that the bond should still be there even when there were people in between that created the more out of place wall for the girl.

Yet sometimes even text messaging him would be difficult, as the fire started then on when the unnie, his girlfriend, found his phone one day, filled with one of Soojung’s sweet notings about life, love and how they should never ever be apart from each other. Cliche words it contained, and the unnie was worried nonetheless that she cried over it, causing Minho and her to break up. They fought over it, him explaining that it was nothing, totally nothing countless times that as Soojung passed by the gym to tell Minho of the news that she was departing the next day for America, he was there shouting along with the girl, repeating the words again, the apology again, and Soojung’s name.

“Look! Soojung and I are not having an affair, for goodness sake! We’re not even together, Yuri!”

“I’m tired with the lying! I saw how she texted you!” the woman stated, tears in her eyes as she sat down on the floor. “God, I’m graduating tomorrow, Minho. I thought we could overcome the distance. I thought it was possible since I’m going to college. I’m sorry but it’s over.”

Minho looked more than devastated, the most stingiest state Soojung had seen him as Yuri started heading out, Soojung hiding behind an open beam and in the shadows. Her sobbing in the corridor horrified Soojung more than seeing Minho in pain. Almost lifeless, she emerged now and neared Minho, his hands over his face, unmoving, placid the whole gym was. It was almost twilight reflected into the room.

Bravely and knowing that she was at fault, Soojung approached him, hands behind her back. He looked up at her in mere agony, in pain and Soojung understood what had that meant.

“Was I the reason?”

Minho bit his lip, standing up and also now feeling confused. “Soojung... look, it’s not that---”

“I know what you’re going to say,” she pretended to sound very calm and indifferent about the problem, but her eyes, oh how much they revealed that really, Minho had not noticed anything about it.

Sighing and holding the tears from falling, she looked at down now. “Go after her and tell her again you’re sorry. She walked out. She’s expecting you to follow her.”

“I already tried that in days now, Soojung! She won’t come back!” he shrieked at her, but Soojung was a braver woman.

“Okay, I’m sorry! But...” she balled her fists at her sides. “Try again!” The momentous shout silenced both, now Soojung sobbed and her face betrayed the facade; her emotions filling in more and more of her heart’s discontent. Minho was not hers, never became hers in the first place so why did it hurt so much saying these things to him? Was it because she was guilty of it?

“Fucking. Try. Again.” Soojung emphasized her words straightforwardly that Minho couldn’t help but put his arms around her tightly, very tightly that Soojung weeped stronger in how much she would be indeed missing him. She closed her eyes as it seared with the temperature. Just stay this way please, don’t go. Make this second last for me.

But he pulled away first, swiftly moving across the hallway and out to follow the girl he was so very in love with. Soojung heard no simple thank you, no goodbye so maybe that was it. For someone as clever and as brilliant, love finally made her look stupid, and Soojung was going to carry this burden until she returned to the US the following day and tell it to her future grandchildren.

“I’ll be gone tomorrow. Will you be there to chase after me too?”

-o0o-

She stared at her phone, the messages and sleepless nights of keeping such a staggering record of moments together. And still, it felt unbelievable that the things happened almost a year ago by now. A smile was etched on her face, her hand pulling on the stroller bag behind her, her other one slipping the phone back to her pocket.

“Krystal! Over here! Krystal!” Right, I was called Krystal here.

The familiar voice came from one of the corners of the airport, and the smell of Los Angeles really brought so many things that reminded her that maybe this wasn’t the home she wanted after all; maybe because Incheon always had that warmer and livelier feel to it. Maybe because it was the sad realization that her American friends were here and she hardly had any back in Korea--- those American girls waving back at her now. Maybe because she always knew that she could always come back to her mom any time when wanted and when the she could afford it.

Maybe because back in Incheon Minho was there. And they could do whatever they want and that always felt like reality, felt like home.

Soojung bit her lower lip, running across the tiled floor and jumping to her best friend’s arms. “How was Korea?”

She pulled away first, her eyes travelling towards the woman behind her. It was none other than her mother, who Sooyeon greeted first when both of them arrived. The younger girl ran to her in nostalgia, her arms draped on her dearest mom.

“Sooyeon says you’ve made friends as promised,” her mother said.

And she remained stiff for a couple of seconds, unable to respond. I fell in love with him, and we lived separately apart, in different worlds, happily ever after.

“Yes, mother. I tried.”

The Verdict

wintercreamed — Sat, 21 Jan 2012 10:46:17 GMT

The Verdict

Changmin-Yoona/ implied Changmin-Sooyoung;

Angst;

AU (because Yoona and Sooyoung are not close in this story. At all)

For aoza, who has helped me in so many ways to write Changyoon and sort of an apology for not updating Someone Other than Me yet. For bamthegreat, the unnie I wish I could know more. For falsefallacy, who needs to give me a new nickname.

I felt like sharing one after Nikka-unnie had written something for us too. When I get off the block, I’ll write a better one for each of you. This story is as flat as a board but all relations are based on a true story. Sigh.

-o0o-

She did not know who he was, nor did she give a single damn. It was not in her to mingle with people’s affairs anyway, although that would be what she would be known as of now and forever more in her guilty life. His friends, their friends, would know of it, any time soon--- and they would bash her, make her feel the rage without even hearing her out, and she also did not know if it could be resolved. It was Christmas, but her heart did not know how to stop crying. It was Christmas, and she did not know what tomorrow would look like back in the University.

With her eyes searing from the hot tears again, she cuddled her pillow while her mom and dad pleasantly sang the usual karaoke Holiday songs in the living room. She knew what she caused; she knew what troubled smelled like--- hell, she was breathing it just now and that had made her chest ache even stronger, suffocating her insides. If it had been wrong in the first place, if she had known that it would end like any tragic end, she would have never tried knowing him or meeting him at all, just left it as strangers for how could she count on something like that? Stupid, that was it, she thought crushingly to herself, repeating the word over and over as if it wasn’t already embedded in her brain.

“We’re going to the mall later to watch a movie. Your favorite actor is in it, so stop sulking and come over.”

Probably the third beep from her phone and still from the same person all day, Yuri’s text had made her smile even for a quarter. Yuri knew the story, because she was the first one whom she reported her dilemma, but not everything. She couldn’t risk it, even for her, because her pride told her so. If she only knew, what it was liked being sliced and squeezed into a mess she did not want, where if only she could turn back time and forget it, she would. But it was too late, and the damage had been done. And that was when Yoona, getting up from the bed and unable to feel her arms, shoved her bed covers and headed for her closet.

Now she knew how dangerous love was, how low she had degraded herself all because of the internet, and all because she was not careful with using it. Facebook, curse you. And curse its walls, friends, and silly statuses you had to put up, update everyday life and its applications. Its existence, although it had brought some of the sweetest memories in her life, made Christmas a humbug, a kind of insincere world, as the famous Scrooge from Charles Dickens’ novel. Bitter. So what.

She barely had known Changmin upon entering the university, nor did she even wonder who he was for any matter. All she did know was he and Victoria, the Chinese girl from her PE class, went out one time, and that had been the last she had heard of him, his name and his being. Yet, it was impossible now when they had English together just this year. Yoona knew little about verbs and adjectives, but he for certain had loads of ideas about them. It was then that she began to notice, to see him in another perspective, like it was at that tinge of a moment, the way he spoke the words, though not as perfect as someone who had grown in the US, were but still quite mesmerizing.

She always talked to him from then on, tried her best to get noticed, because it was nice to do so, and because the butterflies inside her tummy would flutter even stronger and harder, continuously trying to make effort. He too seemed to have enjoyed her company, always joking around her and messing with her hair, playing even her accented English, but who cared--- they were conversing, and that was special indeed. Yet he always kept distance, tried not too much to text or say hello.

Later on, Taeyeon stopped her daydreaming with surprising news. Although Yoona had hardly made research, of whom he is with and what he was as of now, she still found it amusing and in denial that he had indeed a girlfriend, a someone she had never seen before and a someone who was studying somewhere else. Upon knowing so, she sighed in relief a little, at least satisfied that they were not going to bump into each other at all.

“That’s a dangerous call.” Yoona remembered clearly what Hyoyeon had said, only if she listened so well of what it meant now so her sorry butt wouldn’t have to be all at fault. Dangerous, but had she listened to the unnie? Had she wondered what it might have been now? Stupid, her heart wouldn’t let go and thought that since the girl didn’t know her, and she didn’t study in that school, it was all right to be hanging out with Changmin, in discreet and quieter now, for Yuri even encouraged thoughts such as, “Even married couples get divorced. Don’t worry, Yoona!”

She was in fact worried; because believe it or not, even when it had been exciting, fun, and charming for her to have known Changmin, still the very idea that he wasn’t anymore available scared her motionless. It was unfair that she was in love, because Tiffany kept emphasizing that she was; in love with a man that could not ever return back how she felt. And perhaps, there was that time that finally she got used to it, got the image he wanted to protect---- made himself totally untouchable for a sudden second. They talked naturally, online and offline because they hardly seem to communicate these days in school. Slowly, Yoona had finally forgotten about how she felt, wanted to stay friends was okay, until a simple dare had brought her at its last straw.

She hadn’t really known that his girlfriend knew of Yoona’s existence, or that they hang out unfortunately more than Changmin and her during the weekdays. But the girl, the other woman said it was totally okay, made assurance that she didn’t mind at all that Changmin and Yoona were friends. Relieved, Yoona felt comfortable more that there were no more secrets in between, finally---finally, the three of them were absolutely free and aware of each other. Yet, until that simple dare that, accordingly, became Yoona’s reason for guilt.

“Like this post if you want me to answer it on your wall.” Yuri posted on little Yoona’s page since Yoona wanted the girl to do it, follow up questions running behind with it like how old do I actually look like or are we friends or that if I regret ever meeting you; and even the idea of falling in love with the person. Yuri answered in full honesty and still with a few crack up jokes up her sleeve that Yoona thought it would be great to update her status with it. And so she did, later seeing Shim Changmin liked this particular item.

No choice but to obey the dares, she did answer--- in rather joking way and not to be taken seriously. Do I love you? Yes, of course! Adore, praise, what else? She continued writing, laughing when she had done this. Afterwards, her heart felt heavy, clicking post on it. Shim Changmin, apparently online, even commented, “You mean I look like a 39 than an 18 year old?”

Yoona stated, “It’s a joke. Don’t take those things seriously.”

But ho-ho, other people did. His other friends did. Their other friends eventually got the picture. And yes, even Choi Sooyoung had managed to be fired up because of it. Later on their statuses were up, sometime later in the night when the entire world was sleeping, Shim Changmin said, “I’ll be alone this Christmas.” While the girl, somewhat obviously angry, had a status that said, “You shouldn’t have done that. Putting hearts on his wall!”

Knowing her suspicions and doubts were real, she quickly messaged the girl and apologized and told her side of that story that she wasn’t trying to put them in an awkward state, and that they had not even met up personally in real life so they shouldn’t be fighting.

No reply.

Yoona’s heart trembled in guilt, no way out. She didn’t mean to hurt them, never planned to. All because she was dared? All because of a dare, to be in fact that would always be fun and games and not ever real. Didn’t Sooyoung know she was the only one Changmin talked about? That worried about. That even gave a single damn about. Did she know how special she was to be cherished that way? And she would break up with him? It seemed unreasonable, unfair--- judged by a verdict Yoona had not even seen, heard, or known of.

“Yoona, stop being so sulky,” Yuri muttered in her ear as she handed the popcorn when they watched the movie. “You said you were sorry, and I believe that’s enough. Let them handle their own problems.”

“In which I caused,” she rolled her eyes, tired from crying but still weakly shaking her head.

“I also heard that ‘boy’ cried out of it,” Yuri even teased. “Really, that guy? Cry? I couldn’t imagine much of it!”

Actually, he did that a lot, was Yoona’s reply but remained quiet. Her phone suddenly beeped, checking the Facebook inbox and noticed that Sooyoung replied, practically a shorter one and still forceful.

“I’m just not used to seeing heart posts on Changmin’s page,” the text message went on. “We even argued about it. Are you happy? You know what just go away, dye your hair blonde and disappear for the rest of your life.”

Yoona bit her lips and silently sobbed all through the movie while her friends laughed hysterically at the comedy shown in the big screen. On it went, but Yoona remained quiet before whispering to her friend, “I’ll be outside.” Unable to say how much sorry she is, she replied to Sooyoung.

“I’m sorry about it. I swear, it won’t happen again.”

“Give me one reason for me to forgive you.”

She leaned against the corner of the hallway, her feet only settled inches away from the shadows she left behind, the laughter and cheers from inside limitlessly roaring. Knowing that she needed rest, Yoona hurriedly went out of the cinema, holding her phone still close to her, head down and walking out, she hadn’t realized she bumped into him unexpectedly.

He too was looking quite depressed and timid. Their eyes met only for a quarter of a second, only before Changmin lifted the hood of his jacket and started walking into one of the cinemas. One reason to forgive Yoona? One reason so that Changmin would be forgiven? One reason why she just wanted everything else to just end?

It was love, and as Tiffany guessed, Yoona would be denying it for the rest of her life. It was love indeed. But now there wouldn't anymore be a place for it.