a part of yun wants to shake her and scream ‘of course! of course i remember! i cherish every single moment we’ve had together!’ but that’s not right. a glimmering clarity in yun’s memory places him back in that night, back in his own shoes. the yun then was confused, hesitant. untrusting but willing to play along because he remembers jungmi from his youth. she was always kind to him, always the pretty noona. back then he allows her to play around with him and walks away from the moment curious and a little flustered. the yun in his mind and the yun now don’t align. it feels like his eyes are crossing, painting an overlapping copies of an image when it should be one, solid form. but yun doesn’t care. what does it matter if he didn’t realized the importance of that reunion in the moment? he can see now how special it had been, what it has lead to. the memory is still there in sparkling clarity, because it laid the foundation for where they are now. how yun is just in her periphery, there only when her gaze latches on him. an unimportant decoration. something she can pull into her orbit and set adrift depending on her need. even now her pretty lip is tucked between her teeth, and there’s so much passion burning in her eyes but its far, far away. she lets him hold her hand, listens to his words, but it’s jungmi who gets the final say. her intentions, her motivations. and yun won’t have it any other way. he’s happy to be a fleeting fancy, if only just once she turned those eyes on him. even if its the refraction of the emotions for him shining on yun, it’ll be enough. and oh god! now her face meets his. there’s a perfect strand of hair moulded to her mouth and he instantly reaches out to it. he frees it from her lipstick and returns it carefully behind her ear. yun’s fingers are so slow as he tucks it into place, a shiver running down his spine at the delicateness of the soft shell of her ear. his entire body feels like a live wire, and she’s a conductor. he wants to pour everything into her.
it happens in a moment. her legs part, yun is pulled forward, and suddenly they’re too close too close too close! his hands shoot out to the table and his hands grip desperately at the wood. a loud gasp hitches from his lungs, and his eyes are blown wide. does she want this? is she agreeing? it’s too intense from this close and his brain is misfiring, unable to do anything but drink it all in. it’s her words that snap him out of it. hot jealousy curls in his gut. it’s all about him, him, him. yun is right in front of her, accepted into her embrace, with her gaze fixed on only him. but even then, she’s not seeing yun. he wants to whine, kick up a fuss, tell jungmi “yes, we can make him jealous, but can’t you at least say my name? can’t you see me? won’t you tell me i’m good for you? because i love you, can’t you see?” but he swallows it all, because this is about her, for her. he can’t let his own selfish desires ruin it now.
the final blow. can he help noona? that’s all he wants. he could drop to his knees and kiss her feet and thank her for the opportunity to help her. he nods, so fast his head hurts. he melts under her touch, lets her hold him. “i can noona, i will,” he promises. she needs yun for this, it’s a job only yun can do. she knows that, she’s told him, and it makes him glow with pride. yes this is for him, but she trusts yun for such an important task. it’s everything he could ask for. yun fits one hand at her waist (why does his hand feel like it was perfectly built for the shape?) and the other cradles her jaw. he tilts her face back and looks at her, at her lovely eyes and flushed face and panting lips. a hunger roars to life in his chest, all consuming and vicious. yun bends forward and presses his lips to hers. it’s all too heated and desperate and too much but it feels like he’s high, her thighs around his hips and her hands on him and her mouth so plump against his own. yun can’t help the whimper that he lets out, his body leaning closer. perfect, this is perfect, how could he ever live another moment outside of this?
and it’s odd because it’s just physical touch, she can feel it, him. but it’s stimulation without the emotion she had come to expect. her head is vacant from any thought that isn’t fuck you daeil. yet, parts of her respond, her arms tug him closer against her chest, tuck him in warm and hot against her ( is it enough ? ) his promises still linger on her skin where his breath had hit, yun’s words still sticking to her forethought, just next to all the ones she wishes she could banish about daeil ( that’s a lie, she loves him, she’s sure of it ) something in her aches, unfair, unkindly reminding her that she knows, she’s fucking fully aware, of what it really feels like. what loving him feels like. did she ever stop? ( in some ways ) is this what it was like before ? ( no.... ) she pulls out of his kiss just enough for the magnetic centimeter, not even that much ; breathing in his breath, all of that carbon dioxide makes her feel a bit drunk. ( he doesn’t taste like daeil did... ) it’s distracting how much he doesn’t taste like daeil. but it’s fine. it’s in the name of a distraction, it’s important ( if she doesn’t do this, how will she exact her revenge ? ) her tongue licks at yun’s lips slow and teasing, fingers winding into his hair, knees brushing along the fabric of his pants while she hikes her leg to draw him closer. so close now... ( when was the last time she was this close to someone ? when had someone touched her, kissed her ? ) she shudders into the kiss, physical response only, her thoughts so stuck on daeil, yet they don’t match up. it’s so patchwork. her feelings, her thoughts, something doesn’t add up. her mind screams daeil but her body knows. it feels different. her ex doesn’t feel like this.
what she feels is yun. it’s distinct, there’s a melody to the way he breaths that matches with her heartbeat even without her calling out to it. she widens the kiss, her body latching onto the notion that if she pretends, it can become what she wants. it can be like him right ? yun can fill that right ? he said he would do it, he could fill the spaces she needed him to. she pushes herself backward, dragging him with her arms, lips locked like a promise as she pushes further onto the table. there’s something desperate about it, her imagination is failing her, true, but she’s trying. ( this whole thing feels so new ) it’s freeing, in some strange way. equally as much as it drives her heart through her ribs. the way it’s so different from what she wants ( thinks she wants ) but still works. she breaks apart again, and when she speaks her lips move against his, words muffled gently by his mouth. “why?” she asks, eyes sealed shut. “why are you helping me?” she can’t help but ask, kisses him again, this one feels nearly too chaste. just one and then she gives him room to speak.
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