BRUSH [Kyumin & Sooji]
♡ Ꮺ MEMES — ACCEPTING ! ੭
PROMPT: sender gently brushes receiver’s messy morning hair with their fingers.
AU: people like us
────── ୨୧ ⋆ ˚ 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍'𝐓 𝐒𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 since she laid eyes on that eggshell blue envelope with her name swirled in gold. and she feels it---the consequences of not leaving her room for three whole days, of sulking beneath her sheets with the blinds drawn and her phone facedown somewhere on the floor. she'll admit it, her coping mechanisms have never been great. but life’s been unexceptionally cruel lately, and reading an invite to the wedding of the man she’d once imagined marrying---just four months ago---makes her stomach churn every time she thinks about it. how stupid she’d been. how embarrassingly easy it was to believe in something that was always too good to be true. and maybe that’s exactly why she clung to it---because deep down she knew. knew it was doomed, knew it wasn’t going to end well, but that never stopped anything from hurting.
she steps into the kitchen with the kind of hesitation that makes her feel like a stranger in her own home. well… it’s hers for now. another cruel reminder of her situation. the fridge opens with a creak, and she realizes she’s hungry---finally---after living off of snacks and spite. and maybe that’s why she doesn’t notice him until it’s too late. sooji hadn’t heard him follow her in, too caught up in her spiral to register anything else. but she knows it’s him when a hand touches her hair---maybe to smooth it out, maybe out of affection, maybe just curious about the damage she’s done. because yeah, she’d chopped it all off sometime between a breakdown and a 2am tiktok binge. closure via clutter drawer scissors. trauma via bangs. and the result? wild bedhead and the knowledge that she’ll have to see a real stylist soon. still, her reaction is immediate---she ducks away. reflex. because physical touch is the last thing she wants right now, not when she’s caught between wanting to set the world on fire and disappearing into her mattress forever.
she should be nicer to him. really, she should. they’re in the same boat after all. maybe his situation is even worse---him and nari were together longer than her tragic two year romance. and he was childhood friends with both. but she can’t bring herself to process that. she just lets out something between a groan and a bitter huff, grabbing the milk with the force of someone who’s trying not to fall apart. ❝ they’re fucking evil, ❞ she mutters, pouring it into the nearest cereal she can find--because she can’t cook, and she’s sure as hell not going outside. ❝ who invites the people you cheated on to your wedding? ❞ she scoffs, finally turning to face him.