Chapter 2. Who comes at night?
Pairing: Wooin x reader
Tags: Another au!, mention of drunkenness, he thinks he's going crazy, FLUFF, something about underwear, mysticism that is not explained
Note: If it's a fairy tale, then let me believe in it, even if we come up with the end ourselves
prologue
When Wooin moved to a new apartment, away from his father, and closer to a new stage of life, like "I'm free as a bird in the sky before I face reality," he really didn't expect outsiders in his new place.
the apartment was really nice. It is bright, large with high windows, lots of electrical equipment, and in a great area of the city. no flaws except for the damn mirror that annoyed him so much. It was long and nailed to the wall, with a vintage frame around the edges and no hint of cracks.
It's old and dusty, and when you look into it, reality itself seems to be distorted. The colors become grayer, the corners become blunt, and as if the world in the reflection seems unreal, so unnatural.
he wanted to throw it away, honestly, put at least a closet in its place, at least some fucking painting on which there were stupid splashes of acid paints that he wanted to rip out his eyes.
but every time Wooin found more and more excuses for why he didn't do it. one minute he came home exhausted and just fell asleep on the couch without taking off his damn sneakers, then he brought a girl home for a casual hookup, then he dragged Hyuk or Joker into his house for a random "team get-together" with soju. There were a lot of reasons, but the mirror was still there.
Until strange things started happening in the house.
It was like knocking on a window, which seemed absurd. It was on the 14th floor with an incredibly beautiful view of Seoul at night
then things in the house started to appear in other places. Why the hell did his hairbrush end up on his desk instead of in the bathroom? why were the scattered socks suddenly stored in the laundry basket? or why was the bed, which he definitely hadn't made in the morning, now packed and laid out so well and smoothly?
At first, Wooin sinned against the presence of an overly economic ghost. he even tried to talk to him, "Hey, could you wash the dishes too?", "how about closing the curtains for me, the sun is too blinding in my eyes?", "fuck! hey! I didn't ask you to tidy up my closet!"
but he never got an answer. It's like he's just gone crazy and acquired a second personality, too good and economical, which he doesn't remember.
Then it got worse, Wooin swore it was too much
he began to find it at home.. women's things? exactly. all kinds of hair clips, something from cosmetics, whether it's lipstick or mascara, or even underwear that he would definitely never buy. and these pretty glasses with blunt patterns, these are usually given to friends on holidays either out of their hearts and laughter, or out of ignorance of what to give.
After that, he thought his stalker was here. maybe some random girl turned out to be too crazy for this world, that made copies of his keys, found out his schedule and came to his house?
nonsense
It really sounds like nonsense.
until it really started to bother him. Every return home ended in tension, Wooin stood at the door of his apartment, twirling the keys in his hands, but not daring to open door.
a stream of constant vague thoughts about what to expect from this today and tomorrow, and even the thought that if he doesn't wake up the next morning because this "someone" puts a pillow on his face at night..
No, it's not!
Wooin even forced Joker to spend the night at his place for several weeks in a row for "extra tips with a comfortable sofa in the living room," but he didn't seem to notice.
He even made Hyuk and Vinny boil his apartment for wiretaps or hidden cameras. Vinny because he was mean but really smart, and Hyuk.. Just because he thought that kind of person would know where something like that should be.
But everything was empty.
and it's dirty after that, with the light bulbs turned out, things scattered, and sockets unscrewed.
and it kind of stopped, until one night Wooin was woken up by an insistent knocking. and following the irritated muttering outside the front door, he found no one. And the knocking was still there
And there is no hail, rain or even birds outside the window.
then something intuitive, what people call a "sixth sense," and Wooin calls a "new headache," pushed him to the mirror. and he was not mistaken when he put his ear to the mirror. the knock was from there, but in front of him he saw only himself, his face rumpled from sleep and a dirty T-shirt.
That evening, he took off the mirror, checked the wall behind it, and checked the mirror itself. The pounding stopped somewhere else in the middle, but his misunderstanding was still there.
He never threw away the mirror. Why? He doesn't know. Either it's more fun to live like this, or in this regard Wooin was too lazy to throw a thing out of the house
After a while, he noticed a series of "not random events, I'm definitely not crazy.":
the knocking from the mirror was only at night, with varying persistence, but at about the same time interval
The "remnants of the household ghost" were still lingering in his house.
and there seemed to be more women's things, but when he decided to put everything in one pile, he simply did not find most of it.
heavy artillery was used: accessing the Internet with abnormal requests
"how do I find out a ghost in an apartment?"
"what are the dangers of old mirrors?"
"signs that I inhaled carbon monoxide if there is no gas in the house?"
and similar
Then it got worse
an appeal to an acquaintance through an acquaintance of an acquaintance, with a request to read the tarot. but Wooin didn't get an answer to the question, and the "prediction of stupid painted pictures" was about meeting love in his life under the strangest circumstances.
Oh, shit!
It was only one night that everything changed. Wooin was sitting cross-legged in front of the mirror, resting his elbows on his knees, looking at himself. a little more and he would have stopped recognizing himself, but he knew for sure that around this time there would be a knock
And when did the first sound sound?
Wooin knocked back
and then silence. It seemed too long, and the apartment was very quiet, until he got an answer.
the same knock in response
now there's a dumb Wooin. Could there really be someone behind that mirror? a real ghost who is too shy to show himself in person?
"Are you too ugly?"
the question was accidental, but the rumble from the mirror was definitely intentional. "he really is probably ugly," but the thought was not voiced.
"Okay, let's, uh, maybe play? I ask a question, you knock back. one knock "yes", two knocks "no"?"
There were three knocks in response. As if it were said:
"Are you an idiot?"
But that's about how he found out that there is no ghost behind the mirror. And it's really a girl. and that she sees him. they live at the same time, and checking random universally known facts through the questions "you know that meme from tiktok, right?", he realized that they could be somewhere nearby.
but he didn't get an answer to the question of why she had such strange underwear for his taste. The knocking stopped altogether for a few days
"Okay, I know you're not talking to me, but hey, it's been four days, I even miss you."
the answer did not come immediately. and as if deliberately, to annoy him even more, when, after all the failed attempts, Wooin decided to go to bed. Sleepy and angry
but after that, he still went back to the mirror. still communicating through one knock of "yes" and two knocks of "no"
the idea of communicating in Morse code did not come immediately. Wooin didn't even know that. and it was much more difficult to communicate through it.
"fucking knock slower! I don't understand what letter it is!"
"...dot, dash, dashâwhy am I an idiot right away?! You're the one who can understand me, and I'm sitting here tormenting myself with these dots and dashes like some kind of architect!"
"only perverts eat french fries with ice cream. Yes, that's your diagnosis."
"so this asshole just yelled at you, even though you were clearly right? You know, sometimes men are real assholes."
And the more it went on, the more sleepless nights it was, the more he wanted to see who was sitting there behind that mirror.
and the feeling of butterflies fluttering in his stomach and the thirst to return home to "talk" became frequent. Wooin didn't know what it was, anxiety from the unknown or..?
Definitely not sympathy
Definitely not in love
"how can I fall in love? I haven't even seen her? and that underwear wasn't good... but could it be cute on her?"
In the cold last days of October, he only became more preoccupied with these incessant thoughts. even quieter. and more.. attentive to his belongings? fewer scattered socks, more order in the closet, dishes washed on time
Even the dirty T-shirts went into the trash
"hey," Wooin's head leaned against the mirror, fiddling with the snake ring on his finger, he had just returned from the club, completely sober, hadn't even changed his clothes, but took off his damn sneakers on the threshold, and was definitely nervous, "what if there was a way to meet? Would you like to?"
a few knocks. It takes a few seconds in his head to decipher the words in his head out of habit, without needing paper or a pen. a quiet grin, soft and uncharacteristic
"a date? well.. maybe. You like to go to typical cafes or galleries, am I right?"
Wooin's gaze turns away to the phone that lies at his feet, apparently fell out of his jacket pocket
A message from the Joker. "Sangho wants to test a new drug tomorrow". (delivered on October 31, 20XX, at 00:17)
a quiet sigh
"why don't we choose horror movies?"
And then he thought he'd lost his mind. raising head, with dilated pupils, looking at the other end of the mirror, with his mouth slightly open, finally seeing you
you were sitting opposite him, reflecting his pose, with your hair down, wet after a shower, cute pajamas, tapping your finger on the mirror, repeating your words through the Morse code
Wooin is definitely frozen. he took all his words about you being a ugly back, and the feeling of excitement in his stomach was so unbearably warm and pleasant that it seemed to him that a little more and he would explode.
"Huh.. still, this underwear would look cute on you.."
And it was only your frown at him, as if you knew what he was talking about, that made him laugh, forgetting about the unread messages on his phone, or that he had to get up early this morning.
"so it's a movie date, right? Will you cling to me?"
you just close your eyes, smiling, either from the thought that he sees you in return, or from the excitement of a possible meeting.
"I'll spit soda in your face if I get scared."
"then I'll consider it an indirect kiss."
And it was well past midnight on the clock before the two of you could come to an agreement on which movie theater you two would meet at.
"No, Wooin-ii, it's called classic, not shit."
"do you think my taste is bad just because I don't like the movie scream?"
"I think you just feel competitive, that Skeet Ulrich is more sexy than you"
"then we'll check it out tomorrow."
@zyart-jpg @dzvelinaskebiyars @sylith
