ally
@ncyeonju
they’re in the last third of the song, at the climax. the fog in doug’s head has spread to his ears, clogging them so he doesn’t even hear the beat dropping so much as he does feel it vibrate past skin and through organs and into his bones. his body slumps on one side and he drops his head, letting the music rock him so thoroughly that by the time it fades into the next number his body is spent and he’s done for the night. he opens his eyes when the hectic rhythms pick up again.
he taps wonchul on the shoulder, who spins around. “hey, gonna go upstairs.” doug tells him, and then pushes past the crowd.
hand in his pockets, doug digs around until his fingers find their way to the little pebble there, comfortingly smooth, immediately cool to the touch. it focuses his thoughts and he concentrates on the path that unfolds in front of him, one stairway up and a sharp left turn. he closes in on one of the seated areas on the second level of the club, tucked away in a corner and on the opposite end of the dj below. yeonju sits with her legs barely crossed. only her ankles are touching. the rest of her body looks like it’s melted over the couch, arms spread out on the backing and torso angled into the cushioning. she’s still high. they’d popped one together before going in a few hours ago—possibly coming down unless she’d snuck another one in on site. he lets go of the pebble, throwing himself onto the next couch and propping his legs on top of yeonju’s.
“uuuuuuugh,” he breathes out. “i love this fucking sofa. thought i was gonna pass out but. i know i’m definitely gonna now.” he rolls over onto his face. “bye noona.”
