Medicine
enouvement:
He doesn’t. Instead, he tells a joke. A small one that he’s clearly rehearsed in front of a mirror. A joke about the wine. But there’s something about the way he says it. Something that can’t be rehearsed in front of a mirror. His voice is hushed not to be polite but because he’s scared. Unsure, maybe. Vulnerable, definitely. Chaeyeon turns and leans one elbow on the railing so she’s facing him. She looks at how he says the joke like it’s a big gamble. She looks at how his jaw tenses. She looks at how his lips, illuminated by the lights from buildings too far away, don’t turn up to smile. She looks at how his eyes only trail her arms as she shifts position. He feels uneasy. She’s burst a bubble held together by cheese trays and homemade centerpieces. Chaeyeon can’t help but laugh. Maybe misery did enjoy company.
hyunwoo’s heard about chaeyeon from joonki through his exasperated sighs, fond chuckles, and loud boasting— she’s the “trouble child,” never doing what she should as a member of the bak family, blowing off her duties for parties, a kid still having a rebellious moment. “she’ll grow out of her phase, i hope,” joonki had sighed over a mimosa not too many days ago. “i’m just a little worried about her.” it seemed so strange to hyunwoo that he and chaeyeon had switched fates. he, a boy born into the slums of seoul, grew up to slip into a circle of elites, while she, a girl from one of the most powerful families in korea, voluntarily hung out with the kind of people that hyunwoo fought to separate himself from. life had funny ways of working sometimes.
he looks at the way the evident discomfort on chaeyeon’s face intensifies, the furrow between her brows deepening with every passing moment. her fingers curl around the iron railing and the way she stands makes her look like a bird about to take flight, except girls in fur coats can’t fly. or survive a jump from this far up. so he feels the need to say something, anything, to keep her anchored. nobody just jumps off a balcony in the middle of a conversation, right? he clears his throat and does the only thing he can think of— he tells a joke.
there’s a moment of tension before chaeyeon’s feet are flat on the ground and she turns to face him, features etched with obvious ennui. hyunwoo doesn’t even realize that he’s holding his breath until the tiniest smile appears on her face, and then a grin, and then a small laugh. he can’t tell if she’s laughing at the joke, or laughing at the fool that told the joke, but it’s a good sign, nevertheless. she looks far less intimidating when she smiles. “hey, you laughed,” hyunwoo says, beaming. “so, speaking of wine, did you get anything to drink yet?”