patchwork.
omniroulette [seunghyuk]
It doesn’t get any easier to breathe the more time that passes by, though Seunghyuk knows well that believing it would was nothing more than a subconsciously crafted fallacy. Jaehyun isn’t ─ shouldn’t be ─ intimidating in the slightest, but it’s the closest word to describe the source of the pressure that Seunghyuk feels just by sitting across from him. That feeling that anything he does could be a mistake ─ that he could say something wrong in an instant and turn this awkward atmosphere into a recreation of past, where the pain of walking away, being walked away from was sharp enough to last for weeks (or was it months? it’s hard to remember, he finds) ─ is nothing more than a silent anxiety humming under his skin with each second.
He doesn’t want to mess up again, even if he’s hardly sure that doing any worse could be possible, knowing that they haven’t been ‘fixed’ in the first place despite this meeting. Yet still, being here like this is enough to say something, though Seunghyuk isn’t entirely sure if he should assume what that something might be; he thinks with his heart more than his head in a lot of ways, but he’s trying to tune that out for the time.
Despite how it’s almost suffocating, there’s still some sense in comfort to be had in just listening to Jaehyun talk again; he’s not really different despite the years, but all that train of thought leads to is Seunghyuk wondering if he’s changed so much, himself. Too much, even. It’s not something he’s sure of, but again ─ is he really sure of anything to begin with?
He, at least, wishes he knew what to say and how to say it instead of leading gaps of silence for Jaehyun to fill. It’s never been as unnerving before as it is now, but that’s just yet another thing that’s so weird about seeing him again.
To say he’s caught off guard by the focus shifting to him is, lightly speaking, an understatement. Perhaps if they were any other words, it wouldn’t feel so much as though ice cold water had been dumped on him suddenly, even if by ‘suddenly’ he means ‘sooner than expected’. His job is just as sensitive a topic as some hauntings of the past, he thinks, feels ─ and yet it’s practically unavoidable, given its place as centerpiece for all of their problems.
He wonders if he’ll just be handing Jaehyun a knife to dig further into him with his responses and the information he gives. When the waiter stops by for a brief moment to ask if they’d like something to drink, he thoughtless asks for their day’s special, his thoughts still whirring around worries over what Jaehyun might be expecting from him.
“It’s… alright,” he finally says, carefully as if he’d struggled to find the right term. Not that saying such would be wrong; how is he supposed to describe how hunting feels as of late to someone else when he himself were uncertain of it? “There’s not a lot that really… goes, I guess. It pays well, and it’s… it keeps people safe.” There’s no hint of comment on his thoughts towards it, if he likes things the way they are or otherwise; he’s almost happy to shift the topic slightly, even if he still internally frets over it being about him.
But that’s where he blanks even more, with much less nervousness; what has he been doing other than work?
“I… ” The slight feeling of distress twists itself onto his face as he brings his knuckles to his lips, resting his chin partially on against the heel of his palm and staring at the table in thought, brows furrowed. This, of all things, is quite possibly the hardest thing to answer yet. A dark horse of questions that encourage critical thinking.
“Homestuck ended…” he mumbles under his breath, completely to himself and yet still audible nonetheless. “After that it’s been… what was it again…”
It takes him a moment, but ─ “I have a dog now?” comes in time.
It takes an even longer pause before the initial sheepishness returns full force, his gaze shifting down to the table as the makings of an apologetic smile tug slightly at his lips. “Sorry,” he near mumbles in an attempt to mask the hint of flustered emotion; he knows the answer to his rhetorical statement already, but he can’t help but say it anyway. “That’s… not what you were asking, was it?”
“It’s alright” catches Jaehyun’s attention and “it keeps people safe” makes his gaze sharpen unconsciously---like his pupils could turn to harsh, feline slits and cut a hole through Seunghyuk’s stiff, muddied expression. There is a wall between them and it will remain---it is this which Jaehyun cannot see through, and cannot find it within himself to reach past, either. It’s there for their safety, mutually, he would like to think (though he’s not so sure; he thinks it’s for him who’s bitter and vulnerable and weak underneath his mysterious mask, then thinks it’s more for Seunghyuk whose weakness is written in all the cracks in his expressions and fumbles between his words).
(He’s not sure which of them is weaker, which of them is pretending more---him, full of bluster, or Seunghyuk, painfully balling something up inside.)
Regardless, Jaehyun doesn’t show weakness---he orders a drink in the same deep, velvet voice as he always uses these days, Something with lavender---he won’t admit that he’s nervous, but any of his peers would know from the order alone that he is. Seunghyuk probably wouldn’t, though, so Jaehyun pays it no mind.
He finds himself scratching lightly at the side of his face as the silence ticks by; Seunghyuk wasn’t quite this awkward in the past, was he? A distant memory comes forth and the contrast unsettles him; this isn’t the kind of change he could’ve anticipated. The awkwardness feels heavy, now, and there’s a fleeting feeling of concern that briefly overcomes Jaehyun’s bitterness.
“Homestuck...?” he says quietly, finding it impossible not to have seen the name---and yet not understanding the relevance, The smile that reaches his lips at the mention of Seunghyuk’s dog is genuine, if a bit lopsided with confusion---endeared, more accurately, though Jaehyun is loathe to admit it. Indeed, he instead finds himself pushing the softer expressions down in favor of maintaining his cool---he’s trying to protect himself, but he’s always been soft.
The witch chuckles, shifting to cross his legs---leaning his chin lightly against his fingers. “I'm frankly uncertain of what I was asking,” he says quietly, honestly, “But you having a dog... it seems fitting, somehow.” And yet in the same thought Jaehyun’s heart sinks a bit---there was really nothing else to mention? Or is it possible that Seunghyuk is hiding something, lying? It’s hard to think that possible---Seunghyuk is transparent, in many ways, and Jaehyun has seen him at his worst---but he forcibly reminds himself that there is motivation to do such.
But Seunghyuk is flustered---and Jaehyun remains endeared, even as he tries his best to be cynical.
“Well---I suppose not so much has changed for me, either. I’ve continued my studies---” he tries not to stumble, but something in his tone catches strangely “---the same as ever, though I have recently completed the majority of them... though admittedly, ‘complete’ is a strange word, when study is a life-long process.” Jaehyun exhales a sigh, leaning back; it’s so strange, dodging the key words the same way he always has, but feeling confident enough with the ones he uses. “I’ve been working, as well, in wards and the like, though my specialties seem to lie elsewhere---properly pursuing such things takes time, though I’ve begun developing a clientele in my own way.” He’s rambling again---and unsure of how to stop himself.
For a moment he looks up at the ceiling, stares at one of the avant-garde light fixtures. He can’t just ask “do you hate me” in such simple terms---it’s not right, and besides that, the answer seems strangely obvious, yet hard to believe. (But if Seunghyuk doesn’t hate him, in specific, then does he hate everything supernatural? He says he’s keeping people safe---is he wrong, there? Is that really all?)
“But---I’m certain you don’t wish to hear more about what a witch does with his time,” he says in a tone that almost bites. “Professional and academic matters aside, I’ve been well,” silently, he admits to himself that elaborating beyond that is hard, “though I haven’t added any animal companions to my household, either.” He chuckles, though the joke isn’t really a joke at all; his gaze, curious but not cutting, serves as an invitation for Seunghyuk to continue speaking---about anything, Jaehyun thinks, besides the core tension at hand.









