#dulcetcure

[wingedvictor]

minjun finds himself wrapped up in a game; a battle of tug of war, every push and pull as gratifying as the one before, but he's unsure if mina is the opponent he has to beat, or the prize at stake.

either way, he acknowledges that she had won this round, though there's still a long way to match point. with a tube of lipstick in hand, he finds himself outside her dorm room, taking bait to her attempt at reeling him in with traces of her and their little rendezvous the night before.

not that they did anything more than exchange sultry glances at each other, dilated eyes darting down to steal glimpses of each other's lips, looking away before the guilt seeps in, but lingering long enough to imagine what it'd be like to have the other's lips on theirs. it's how he even knew that lipstick stranded in his car belonged to mina—he'd recognise that shade of cherry red any day.

he knows she left it behind on purpose, he saw her checking her pockets before she left his car. was it to tell him that she had noticed him staring at her lips all night? or was it an illicit invitation to explore the forbidden? whatever it was, minjun is here to find out.

he lands a couple of knocks on her room door, fiddling with her lipstick in his free hand, the usual lousy excuse they use whenever they meet unprompted at the very tip of his tongue. the door opens, and with it, reveals a face he was not expecting to see. instead of being greeted with one of mina's coquettish smiles, he meets eyes with an unwelcome face, one he was conditioned to turn and walk in the opposite direction whenever his gaze falls onto her.

fukumura seina.

or the self-proclaimed campus cupid, of whom he had fallen victim to in his early semesters at mugunghwa. a good amount of time had passed since then, he is no longer a clueless freshman exploring a new medium of art, he now knows the hallways of mugunghwa like the back of his hand. still, her bothersome antics were etched deeply in his mind. after all, it’s not everyday you get a complete stranger pestering you to go on a date with another stranger.

just as she had spent weeks attempting to match him up with a girl that had implored her matchmaking services, he had spent equal amounts of time avoiding her, escaping the hallways she roamed. minjun was never one to concern himself with other people's business—not until it involved him, or threatened to destroy his peace, both of which seina managed to do.

his eyebrows creased—an evident perplexity that shows whenever he is in her presence—as he fights back a disgruntled sigh, forgetting for a brief moment that mina and seina are roommates. not that it surprised him, he really didn’t know enough about mina—it’s exactly what draws him to her.

“is mina in?” he asks, straight to the point. there was no need for pleasantries with her.

CLEAR THE AIR ft. @dulcetcure

[dia1tone]

EXT. MUGUNGHWA FALL EXHIBIT FAIR - DAY

@dulcetcure, fukumura seina

approx. 3 months after jisoo’s death

jiyeon reemerges in the middle of the exhibition space, surrounding conversations washing over her like white noise. an underclassmen writer from the blue stares up at her earnestly (expectantly). jiyeon falters for a moment, a second; the slip-up is unnoticeable to the untrained eye, those types of things don’t happen to son jiyeon. the smile she offers in response is practiced, ingrained muscle memory. the underclassmen beams.

“why don’t you send me that in an e-mail?” jiyeon’s smile deepens, she smooths a placating hand down the girl’s arm. “just so i don’t forget.” the girl nods, a touch stilted, and then goes on her way.

she’s something of a broken record now, she feels. jiyeon is tired. jiyeon is always tired nowadays. she tucks her hair behind her ear, away from her face, and sighs. 

but, well, at least she had a reason for it.

her expression pinches minutely, eyes scanning the crowd of students littering the outside campus space as they move from one stand to another. jiyeon had completed what had been expected of her as editor in chief, delegated responsibilities as she saw fit (to, uncharacteristically, lighten the mental load she had inadvertently placed upon herself). now was time to reap the fruit of her labor, so to speak, and allow herself the opportunity to relax. (odd, unfamiliar word. it feels thick on her tongue from underuse).

seina is easy enough to spot. if not for her boisterous nature, then for her natural charisma. boys stare, girls whisper, seina continues to move through the motions of life unperturbed by her audience. jiyeon slips her own arm into the bend of seina’s, effectively linking them together. the touch is easy, comes as natural as breathing as jiyeon unreservedly leans into her completely. “how’s the stand going?” none of the heavy stuff; no jisoo, no death, no overwhelming feelings. “don’t tell me little miss yuri left you to fend for yourself?” jiyeon hums with laughter, refusing to move from where her cheek has situated itself against the slope of seina’s shoulder. “do we need to call in reinforcements?”