until the flowers bloom again, wait a little bit
pairing: yeonjun x reader
summary: the one where yeonjun is winter and is afraid to love spring
donât forget, the requests are open
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after midnight, the streets took on an otherworldly quality from prolonged silence in a normally noisy place, emptiness in normally crowded alleys . the walls became dim and empty, swinging signs casting patches of darkness on the floor.
itâs the time when the lucky ones are asleep and the grief-filled souls are gulping still steaming, taste-enhanced, myrrh.
the gold bell rings to announce a new visitor and sitting behind the counter, you kindly welcome the new incomer.Â
when you opened this cafĂ©, you made sure the coziness would welcome everyone, starting with those suffering from insomnia to anyone who simply doesnât want to go home.Â
jazz, the so-called rebellion music played in the background. the thought of every cafe visitor being a rebel against the world in their own way makes you chuckle. itâs almost two in the morning, when everyone should be asleep, theyâre inside a night cafe, swirling coffees as if itâll make them see a constellation.Â
it is indeed some kind of form of rebelling.
the cafe was cozy, surrounded by bookshelves, sketches made by visitors taped on the old piano and all of the doors. the old fairy-lights, that you managed to get from a christmas fair were clinging to all of the four walls. you always thought of them as the light that calls everyone who needs a company, a safe place to exist in. those sparkling miniature light bulbs brings energy, more in a single drop than people can easily fathom.Â
every single visitor has a different story, but no matter how painful that story might be, when the sun rises, they walk out of here with a calm heart and a clear head. after all, is there anything better than talking to a stranger who knows nothing about you?
you hoped, the cafe was a refuge. people are born to need social bonds, to need a sense of others, even if thereâs no past of knowing each other, just strangers. so, even when the need of worth demands to be a warrior, the protector instead of the one being protected. thatâs why you always hoped, that in this cafe, among the noises of music and strangers, everyone can free their souls and find what they need.
your heart drops ten feet to the ground when you see a blur of grey step in through the door, grey beanie pulled over soft brown locks and face half-hidden by a grey scarf and the familiar boy looks so so cold. like the winterâs iciness is being serenaded through his bones, bringing with it a chill that seeps through his clothes and settles against his skin with something that feels like loneliness.
the name ends in a question, just loud enough to be heard above the whispers and cups clicking.
and yeonjun freezes, stops his hands from rubbing together for warmth and just stands still.Â
âhiâ he answers evenly.
and you hate how your head is spinning as he starts to walk. your heart might just as well jump out and slap him across the face with just how fast it keeps on beating.
you swallow a little. from this close, you canât help but realize how much taller yeonjun had gotten.
yeonjun sits, cautiously. the wooden chair is sturdier than it looks. his hands flat on the table, staring downwards, like he canât even bring himself to look at you in the face.
the exhausted boy closes his eyes, listens to people chatting, book pages being flipped and safe quiet. a low sound of instruments coming from the speakers - he thinks it einaudiâs piece being played. the piano sounding like-
âwhere have you been?â you blurt, followed by his eyes flying open.Â
youâre not usually this bold, but thereâs some kind of frustration seeping through your insides at the memories of him being a regular, then feeling like the stars aligned for the both of you as the spring-like connection blossomed in between you two.
but hereâs a simple but inevitable truth: as the seasons change people crumble so easily within them.
a cruel fate begins as the leaf falls and an invisible thread begins to fray.
thereâs only so much time they can be together before it all runs out. thereâs only so much they can do before one disappears. especially when it comes to stories trying to survive.
âit felt selfish coming here, you know,â yeonjun started, âi was afraid to take something away from you.â
you always thought hearing yeonjunâs voice again would feel like a punch in the ribs, but this time, itâs a gentle rhythm swelling in between your bones.
âwhatâs there to take away?â you ask, tilting your head, the little action making the boyâs heart flutter.
yeonjun exhales with the ghost of a smile, leaning in for one solid second before he pulls away.Â
âa lot,â he says, lips tucked into a cold scarf.Â
for once, you donât want to spend your time questioning on whats and whys. instead, you want to focus on yeonjun being back, on the way snowflakes rested on his eyelashes.
right now, holding this moment that is small enough to crumble in your hands, you donât want to ask for anything else, this is enough.
what else can you do, but hold it?
yeonjun glances down at his untouched mug, realizes that you were the one whoâd poured it for him, and hastily raises it to his mouth to gulp down several mouthfuls.
he leans back, points at the cup clutched with his other hand, âyou still remember.â
âi do,â you answer, a little helplessly and turn your back on yeonjun. you step to the side, and get down few mugs from the top cupboards to clean, although you have to strain a little bit up on your tiptoes to get to them.Â
when the sun starts to bloom on the horizon, golden petals stretching ever outwards into the dim winter blue inviting everyone for a new day, the cafe quiets down with random sounds that comes sailing in the breeze; the birdsong coming in so sweetly, almost tangible, as if it were softly spun sugar.Â
yeonjun gets up, slowly walking up to the door. he pauses and looks up at you, like he expects you to follow him outside. like he expects you two walk together. his eyes still a little slanted, a little sleepy, but looking almost warm now.
you nod almost dismissively, but donât say anything in answer. youâre looking at him like youâve never seen him before.
you walk down the street slowly, not really towards any particular destination. you start to feel like a colour grey amongst the swirling rich autumn hues and yeonjunâs world, which had been falling back into orbit in a way you hadnât noticed, snow and frosts over.
âit hurt so much when you left,-â you pause, lips curving upwards ever so slightly, and itâs a smile, but god is it sad, âwhy the hell did you leave, yeonjun?â
âi told you,â yeonjun swallows, rushed words intermingling with cold wind, âi had to.â
you fight the urge to scream, because yeonjun is talking in riddles that youâre just too goddamn tired to try and decipher.
you stop and turn onto your side to face the taller boy.
âall you had to do was stayâ your words are quiet, and yeonjun is toeing the edge of the precipice, eyes trained on the dark sidewalk.
you finally take a step forward. inhale. exhale.
âwe met during the spring, you know,â he speaks up. yeonjunâs voice no louder than a murmur and youâve never heard it sound so fragile, like it could snap off and break with the smallest movement. he looks like thereâs million of words swimming in his eyes so you nod, silently encouraging him to continue.
âwhen i found the night cafe, i didnât expect for you to wash in like the tide into my life, advancing confidently with warmth,â he pauses, eyes on the sky above. you almost say something, but then yeonjun continues, voice even quieter than before, âjust like spring.â
âi think i loved you.â you say and yeonjun startles, accidentally bumping into your side. when you turn your head, you find that yeonjun is not looking at you.
âyou canât love me.â he answers in awe, hushed and lost sort of voice.
âand whyâs that?â you blink, feeling suddenly out of your depth, âwhy canât i love you?â you ask, a little weakly.
âbecause youâre like spring and iâmâŠâ yeonjunâs voice shakes while the rest of the world is on pause, the city below you on pause, the two of you together, âiâm like winter.â
maybe itâs the dull grey skies or the craving for warmth, but you find yourself brushing the pads of fingers over yeonjunâs cold hands.
âyouâre right, youâre absolutely right-â you cut yourself off, words caught behind your tongue again and yeonjun tenses ever so slightly, something like fear flashing in his eyes, gone as quick as it came.
âthereâs winter in you, hiding itself in your words,â you draw in a breath, eyes falling shut and words spilling out, âthereâs winter draping itself over your shoulders.â
you donât think, just reach out and wrap a hand around the boyâs wrist, âwhatâs so wrong about you being winter?â
yeonjun tenses and everything about him is screaming exhaustion â from the slouch of his shoulders and the way he curls into himself to his face, eyes and lips downturned in a way thatâs not quite a frown, just tired.
âi wonât ever give you what you truly deserve,â yeonjun looks down at you with tentative smile, âeverything i touch falls down, everything i touch becomes so cold and i cannot let myself take your warmth away.â yeonjun trails off and itâs at this point that you realise it hurtsâ actually hurts yeonjun to speak about it.
you squeeze your eyes shut when broken sound escapes yeonjunâs lips â something between a scoff and a choked up laugh.
âiâm the farthest thing from the spring.â
âspring can be merciless too,â you whisper, voice thick, âspring creates the half-dead flowers and the fruits that never makes it to the basket and instead it falls down to rot.âÂ
you reach out and tug the boy to your side. the silence that falls this time is comfortable, warm, and yeonjun is smiling, just the slightest curve to his lips, but a smile all the same.
âyou might be winter, but you know what?â you ask him absentmindedly and yeonjun makes a low noise in his throat.
you lay your hand carefully against the side of his jaw so that yeonjunâs forced to look down, forced to look at you.
this up close, youâre aware of the pink in yeonjunâs cheeks, of the way your warmth shares and spreads at all the parts that you remain touching, pressed together, of the way youâre angled together in a way that makes you sure you fit together in all the right ways.Â
âyou lent me your coat on a cold winter night and it has kept me warm all this time.â
yeonjun leans in, his dark irises softening in the morning light, and presses his lips against yours.
there was winter, connecting you. there was spring, letting you meet.