I posted this on Ao3 a while ago but figured I should promote it better here so Iâm gonna post the full thing here. Itâs based on the movie Better Days which is one of my favorite movies, the film composition is INCREDIBLE, I highly recommend.
âHe stands and takes you with him, hands in yours to steer you to the bathroom where he keeps his clippers.
âItâs too short to do anything, Iâm sorry. Iâm gonna shave it off, alright?ââ
cw: mentions of physical assault, mentions of filming someone whilst naked, mentions of bullying, very brief mention of suicide
You started living with the punk you met getting beat up on the side of the road once.
Your mama was gone, you were being harassed and attacked by girls who had driven your classmate to suicide, you didnât know where else to go.
So one night you showed up on Jongseobâs doorstep. âCan you protect me?â
He took that seriously. You had a shadow wherever you went from then on, a tough guy with his hood pulled up and his hands in his pockets, your own crooked guardian angel.
Until one night he wasnât there.
And it didnât go unnoticed by your tormentors.
It was dark on your way back home and you knew Jongseob wasnât there. You knew something bad would happen.
A hand reached out and yanked you back by the hair as a phoneâs flashlight came up to blind you and your glasses flew off. You found yourself surrounded by the girls youâd been running from for weeks, and this time they had bigger friends.
The girl holding your hair gave an order to the boy with the phone.
âMake sure you film every second of this.â
When Jongseob gets home that night and sees you, all sense leaves him.
Thereâs blood on your face, your books are destroyed and strewn on the floor, your uniform is torn and half ripped off of you, and your hair.
The lovely hair you covet so much is gone. Hacked off in jagged, uneven pieces shorn close to your scalp.
Youâre crying, but your main concern seems to be your books. Your shaking hands are trying their best to tape the spines and pages back together despite the teardrops soaking the paper. When you hear him coming, however, your head snaps up.
Heâs turned around before you can say anything else, but you catch a glimpse of the rage in his eyes and shoot up to grab him. âJongseob, donât!â
He struggles while you wrap your arms around him, trying desperately to break your grasp without hurting you. He claws at your forearms in an attempt to force you off of him. âFucking⊠ugh, let go!â he snarls.
You hold on for a moment more before deciding to try a different approach, so you shove him as hard as you can. âWhat the hell are you gonna do, huh? Youâre gonna go after them? Donât be fucking stupid,â you shout. He stares back at you, untamed fury present on every centimeter of his face. His chest and shoulders are heaving with heavy breaths you can hear in the backs of his throat.
Until he registers your wobbly lip and the way your teeth are chattering. Until he realizes how scared you must be. Until he remembers he doesnât even know what happened.
A loose strand of your hair is dislodged from the force of your vibrating jaw and floats down in the space between you.
Very carefully, he reaches towards you, resting his hand at the base of your neck. âOkay.â He swallows. âI wonât do anything stupid.â
You gently grab onto his arm. âLetâs sit down, okay? Donât⊠donât leave,â you choke out.
He nods and lets you lead him to the couch.
âIâm so sorry, so sorry,â he whispers. âFuck, I shouldnât haveâŠ. I should have been there. This wouldnât have happened if Iâd been there likeïżŒ always. Fuck.â
His worried hands are restless as they hover over your sobbing form, never staying in one place long until they ultimately rest on your head, on top of your hair.
âHey, hey, letâs fix this first, okay? Thatâs something you can control,â he offers, forcing a reassuring smile when you nod.
He stands and takes you with him, hands in yours to steer you to the bathroom where he keeps his clippers.
âItâs too short to do anything, Iâm sorry. Iâm gonna shave it off, alright?â
You nod. âThatâs fine.â It doesnât matter anymore.
You strip off your uniform dress and shirt so they donât get more messed up than they already are. Youâre still in your tank top and thin shorts, but youâve never been a prudish person, so you donât mind much. Maybe you would have minded anyone else after tonight, but you trust Jongseob more than anyone youâve ever met. He takes your discarded clothes and hangs them on the shower rod to wash later.
You sit down on the edge of the tub and both of you stay in silence the entire time heâs preparing the clippers, stepping into the tub behind you, and starts shearing your hair.
Every now and then, he manipulates your head so he can shave it easier and you let him. Thereâs a strange sort of apathy that washes over you. Or, not apathy, more like a disconnect. Maybe itâs some sort of protection from your brain, you donât know. Your hair is important to you. Itâs the one vanity that you allow yourself in your life almost entirely dedicated to studying. So for it to be goneâŠ. You feel tears wetting your cheeks.
Okay then, that protective apathy lasted all of forty seconds.
Your sniffles reach Jongseobâs ears and he pauses to lean down and press a short comforting kiss to your crown. âAlmost done,â he whispers against your scalp, and he resumes.
When heâs done, you turn around to take a look at the hair left behind in the basin of the tub as he brushes some off of your shoulders. Not a lot there, especially not compared to what you had before the choppy haircut that bitch and her lackeys gave to you earlier tonight.
âThank you,â you mutter.
Jongseob taps at the backs of your shoulders encouragingly. âLetâs go see, yeah?â
You stand up and walk to the mirror. âMy skull isnât shaped weird, thatâs good,â you muse as you run your hands over the fuzz.
Jongseob chuckles and you blush slightly. âSorry, that was my first thought,â you sheepishly whisper.
He comes up behind you and loosely wraps his arms around your shoulders, looking at your reflections in the mirror. âSee? Still so pretty.â
You stay like that for a minute, temples pressed together, before you decide to go get changed. Jongseob stays behind, âto clean up,â he says, and you have no reason to think otherwise, so you head to the dresser in the main room for new clothes. You try to pick ones thatâll cover as much skin as possible (your skin has started crawling at the memory of being exposed on camera only an hour or so before) but will still be comfortable in the humidity. Your glasses have been smashed and basically useless, so you donât even try to put them back on, leaving them on the dresser.
Your ruined books on the ground call out to you, begging for TLC, and you answer, returning to the shaky taping you were attempting before Jongseob came home.
Where is Jongseob? He said he wouldnât take loâ
The door to the bathroom opens, and you turn from your position on the floor to face it.
A gasp tears through you.
âJongseobie, you didnât.â
He meets your gaze with a shy grin. âI did.â
You shoot up and reach for him, bringing his head down to your eye level and inspecting every short hair. âWhy the hell would you do this? Your hair was so long and gorgeousâŠâ
He wrenches himself free from your grasp and prying gaze and shrugs. âYou were sad. I wanted you to be less sad.â
You lightly smack his freshly-shaved head. âThatâs stupid,â you whisper. Youâre scared that if you talk louder than that, youâll start sobbing again.
âNo it isnât,â he insists, and you smile despite yourself.
Later that night, you may tell him the extent of what happened. He wonât ask, but heâll listen if you choose to tell him. For now, however, you bask in the feeling that someone finally, finally, has your back.
FIRST ONESHOT ON THE BLOG LESSGOOOOOO!!!!!
@luvmunchies @melfresita-ruri2 @angelwings-fly @afararraaaa
Lmk if you want to be added!
