@srxjoohyun:
backdated ⭯ feb. 14th 2019 — she’d heard whispers throughout 7th heaven as the day drew closer and though she rolled her eyes each time, she still couldn’t help the tinge of jealousy in her eyes whenever his name came up. the memories of years ago still follow her and the year she’d stayed, she couldn’t help it. with the excuse that it was because she could no longer easily give the chocobo-shaped chocolates to her brother, she gives them to him and she feels on edge this year, wondering if he still expects it. how he’d smiled the last time, mentioned that it’d been years since they were children and yet it felt like tradition, feels so distant now. it was her who chose to leave, to escape her own feelings. then why is she still in the kitchen waiting for them to cool down? the small box is left only when she notices a sufficient amount pile up where girls expect him to be and she feels self-conscious joining them, only dropping it by casually when no one’s looking. before she can catch sight of him too, she leaves for the closest practice area — maybe that’s all she should’ve done in the first place.
valentine’s day had never been important to him, always overshadowed by bigger things, more important matters. he’s only reminded of its existed when he returns to 7th heaven and finds a moderate pile of boxes addressed to him. he can never find it in himself to announce he doesn’t really like sweets because despite his outwardly gruff appearance and general aura of being unapproachable, he’d rather not hurt other people’s feelings if he can avoid it, boxes of chocolate tucked in kitchen shelves, left for voss and miss siyeon to eat. but when he goes through them, one by one, reading over each name so he remembers who to thank on the next fourteenth of the month, he stops midway, the chocobo-shaped chocolates bringing old memories to the forefront of his mind. they’re bittersweet, like dark chocolate, and he takes it out of the pile without rhyme or reason (but there’s always a reason) and brings it up with him to his bedroom, a faint, half smile on his lips. the motion confuses him, throws him off, but he can’t allow himself to make wild guesses anymore when, as far as he’s concerned, she’d made clear the boundaries she wishes to put between them. so, with a nostalgic sigh, he places the chocolates on his desk as he readies for bed, making a mental note to thank her for not forgetting about him and tradition the following day. after all, it’s only tradition, isn’t it?