Note: umm...@kwilquib @erospandemos @leafostuff have fun XD
(2.9k words)
Are you a weirdo if you keep looking through the window across the street to see Gyubin constantly? Especially today?
Don't think so. It's not like you're waiting for her, that's weird. You're just…checking outside. Every ten minutes…no, five…ok fine, you do check constantly.
In your defense, your bedroom window faces directly to her bedroom window, which means every time you look up from your book, your eyes naturally drift toward the house opposite yours.Excuses including the giggles across the street, the little waves she gives whenever you two make eye contact, sometimes the huge teddy bear she always dived to whenever she had a bad day (accompanied by her legs kicking vigorously).
For today, it's the dress.
Her bedroom light illuminates, and your mind brings you to a stage with her as the main actress in the spotlight. She smooths the front of her white dress, twirls left and right, clearly inspecting herself. The dress isn't over the top at all, but damn, doesn't it suit her unfairly well. Very elegant, very simple, very demure. Such a serendipitous event, you tell yourself.
Alright, gotta duck behind the curta— oops, too late. She caught you already, waving her hands excitedly while immediately breaking into that familiar grin.
You could only wave back.
Words are impossible from this distance (unless you two shout), since her bedroom and yours face each other across a suburban street that's wide enough for the world to witness the embarrassment of shouting if that is happening.
Languages formed. It started years ago since she first moved to this neighbourhood with her family — A wave is hi, holding up food is I'm eating, tapping your wrist means you're late, middle finger is middle finger. (It's only that one time, come on. Don't be nosy.)
Back to the present, the main girl presses both palms against the window dramatically (you wonder if the sound reaches you first, or the glasses break first). She gives you a spin, the dress twirls naturally once again. She points at herself and raises her eyebrows.
Well?
You give her two thumbs up. A girl looks pretty, and she deserves all the praises.
Of course, the main actress gasps theatrically and places both hands over her heart like she won a Grammy. And, oh my god, she bows. This idiot (it does give you a chuckle, though. You always do.)
Her bedroom door opens behind her. Her mother appears and says something to her, Gyubin nods back. The girl grabs a small purse off the bed and about to walk out of the room. But she glances back toward your window one last time.
She points at herself, then mimics walking as she points down the street.
Ah, it's prom night. Right.
You give her another thumbs up, which prompts a smile in her. Did you know that she has a cute smile? You know what's cuter? Gyubin forms a tiny finger heart and you make out back (well, awkwardly.)
Satisfied, she disappears from the room, and the bedroom light switches off.
You continue standing there long after she is gone. "…Lucky bastard."
-
Now, Gyubin is pretty.
Funny and friendly, too. Teachers adore her a lot, she is a model student after all. The old ladies at the restaurants you two walk by remember her as "the pretty lass", and heck, cats and birds sometimes gather around her like she just stepped out of a Disney movie.
It is, with high probability, that she'd have someone. Just that you didn't think it'd bother you this much. Tsk, whatever. Good for her, definitely, but prom is such a pain to go. Dress up for a night surrounded by fellow teens and foods that clearly don't fill you up as much as a bowl of ramen.
Are you projecting? Perchance. You don't care at all. Not even once.
Except the fact that you have mumbled that same phrase around forty seven times while trying to finish one chapter. The forty eighth was while making tea. And the forty ninth while rereading that same paragraph again since your brain is oh-so-busy with the lucky bastard who's going with Gyubin instead of the book.
Fucking hell, the words all blur together now. What can you do, really, except to just slip the bookmark between the pages and close the book. Ugh, quite a waste of money buying that suit hanging on the wardrobe right there huh.
Half an hour later, you're downstairs helping Mum wash the dishes, because it certainly beats sulking in your room with the suit right there. Ok, helping sounds generous, because you have been drying the same plate for the fourth time while keeping glancing at the front window.
"You alright, love?”
"Hm?" "You've been polishing that plate for five minutes."
"Oh. Oops."
Mum chuckles. "She's leaving soon? The neighbour girl?"
"Yeah."
"Prom?"
She hums knowingly when you nod. Man, parents truly are omnipotent.
Ding dong!
Oh? We don't expect any visitors though? Both Mum and you look toward the hallway.
"You mind getting that? "Ok."
Not many thoughts are on your mind, it could've been random people asking for directions, or a delivery you forgot that you have ordered. Yeah, who cares about the peephole, you can just tell them we're busy.
Oh boy, the door opens, and your brain completely stops working.
Gyubin on your doorstep, with that same white dress, the evening sky behind her looks dull. Wow, now that you are closer to her, her hair is done so neatly, there are these small silver earrings with intricate engravings. One hand behind her back, and the other is clutching a tiny paper gift bag.
Huh. Well this is something.
"Hi" Gosh, even her voice is pretty, this is so unfair.
"Hey there, yourself. Didn't your date already—"
"He cancelled."
"Huh?" "Food poisoning…or he said."
"Today?" "Mhm."
To clarify, your brain is still trying to catch up with the situation itself. Prom is like an hour away from happening, and the date that is supposed to be with her is away due to unfortunate circumstances. The back of your mind suddenly flashes the suit hanging in your room, your hand fidgeting in your pocket, your mouth feels dry.
Oddly enough, your eyes fixated on her heels rocking slightly. Is she…no way, right?
"So. I have another plan…" She pulls her hand forward, revealing a small white box. And inside is a blue boutonnière. Oh. Oh my god. Is this a dream? You need someone to smack you to reality right now.
"Gyubin…?"
"Well, I figured…if my original date couldn't come, I should probably ask the person I would love to go with, don't you think?"
"Yeah…yeah that makes sense."
No it is not. Your heartbeat is thumping like a drum. Your thoughts are going haywire. Who knows what the rhythm of your breathing is anymore. Did she actually say that YOU are the one she actually wants to go with? Gyubin, you can't just do this! Oh, and don't worry, it amplifies when she takes the boutonnière out of the box and holds it towards you.
"Well…wanna save me from being the girl who showed up alone?"
All the conversations through the windows, all the waves every morning, moments where you tag by her house and vice versa, nights of hand signs you two give each other, and every second of trying to be nonchalant and pretending nothing was there.
They all make your hand gently take the boutonnière from her. "I should…change first."
"Does that mean yes?"
"Well…you'd look pretty weird standing next to someone wearing sweatpants."
She has these cute blushes on her cheeks that make you just want to squeeze it. "That's…true."
"Yeah…"
The evening breeze drifts between the two houses you've spent years silently communicating across, and somehow standing two feet apart is infinitely more awkward than yelling hand gestures through bedroom windows. Heck, any pair of birds flying by probably cringe and drop to the ground looking at you two.
Your brain, meanwhile, has completely blue-screened. Just say something already, anything to compliment her, she looks so pretty under the downlight, come on!
"You look…different."
Fantastic. Ballistic. Give it up for the worst compliment ever.
"…Different…?" "I meant—I mean, you barely wear dresses, so…"
"Well, you're right." "Damn it, I sound weird."
"Indeed." At least a tiny laugh escapes from her. "You're not this hopeless, mister."
You are very hopeless for Gyubin, especially now. Damn it. Staying cool around Gyubin is very much an impossible task. One cute laugh from her and everything melts.
"Ahem. Well… I should probably get changed." "Of course."
"The suit isn't exactly going to walk downstairs by itself." "You don't know that."
"What do you mean?" "It can just fly down like Doctor Strange's cape, who knows?"
It should be said that it takes every single nerve inside you to not break down in laughter at an admittedly pretty lame joke. Her humour really hits the right spot.
"Give me ten minutes." "Take your time."
"I won't." "Oh you will."
You roll your eyes and begin stepping back inside, one foot crosses the doorway. Then, you feel your hand being tugged back, followed by warm fingers wrap gently around yours.
"Hm?"
You look back at her.
Gyubin hasn't moved, still standing in the same spot and holding your hand. And her face? Trying so hard not to laugh, the tiny grin keeps twitching wider. What is she up to now? Her head tilts innocently too, like a naïve deer in the abyss.
"I almost forgot." "About?"
She leans in, close enough that you can finally notice the familiar note of fresh fragrance - citrus, floral, and woody. Close enough that you can finally see the gleams in her eyes. "There was no date besides you from the start, by the way."
Never have you ever run this fast to get changed.
-
And you have never moved as fast as possible right now to find Gyubin.
The hallway is longer than your brain can remember, the white floors polished enough to catch your tired reflection for a split second before your old knees force you to slow down.
Your eyes slowly lift from the old blue boutonnière in your palm. Not the fresh one from years ago, no — this one has long since dried into muted shades of navy, carefully pressed beneath cracked plastic inside a tiny keepsake box you still carry around.
"…Sir?" A nurse rounds the corner just as you almost pass her. "We have found Mrs. Song again."
Oh. Hah. Of course. Thank the Lord for the younger workforce. Damn these knees, they complain louder than you do nowadays. Funny. At seventeen, you could sprint upstairs in seconds because the girl you loved was waiting outside. At seventy-eight, just standing from a chair requires utmost attention with every old joint in your body.
Thanking the kind nurse, you slowly but surely, move left and right, past the nurses' station, wave to Qwibbo the nice lad feeding imaginary seven thousand pigeons in the sunlight, turn another corner, and—
Music. Someone has left an old radio in the recreation room again. That same, old familiar melody catches your ear and has led you to where she is.
Gyubin. Now with your last name, Song.
She is still wearing the white cardigan your eldest daughter bought her a few Christmases ago that resembles the white dress from the prom date. She is still wearing the wedding ring you've slid back onto her finger more times than you can count with your feeble fingers because she keeps forgetting what it is and leaving it beside the sink. And she is still dancing, slowly swaying by herself and carefully counting under her breath.
"...Five...six...seven..." A tiny turn. "...Eight."
One of the nurses notices you. "She's been like this since she woke up, sir."
"When was that?" "About six."
"Did she eat breakfast?" "A few bites."
"Medicine?"
She nods. "...But she keeps asking what day it is."
You thank the nurse before quietly walking over. "...Hey."
Gyubin looks up, and you swear the sparks in her eyes never go away when seeing you. "There you are!" She said, and your heart foolishly skips, just like every single time, young and old. "I have been looking everywhere for you!"
"Have you?" "Mhm"
She reaches over and straightens your collar. "You'll wrinkle your suit."
You're wearing a knitted cardigan. "…Right. Sorry."
"You always leave everything until the last minute." She shakes her head dramatically. "We're going to be late for prom."
August 27th.
Again, without fail, every morning. She wakes up and checks the calendar beside her bed to find the little circle around August 27th. Then, she spends the rest of the day waiting for prom. Gyubin doesn't remember yesterday, last week, last month, heck, even their wedding day nor your daughter's birthday.
It's only that day.
"…Gyubin, we still have time." "Do we?"
"Mhm." "Oh good, but I haven't practiced enough yet!"
Before you can answer, she begins counting again.
"...Five...six..." Another careful step. "...Seven..."
You quietly follow beside her in case she stumbles. "...Eight."
-
That afternoon, while Gyubin (finally) naps on her hospital bed, you return home for a change of clothes.
The house has been painfully quiet since the children moved out. You make tea out of habit. One cup: just an earl grey tea bag and pour the water in. You're about to reach for the sugar cube, a bag of Persian tea, and absentmindedly reach for the second cup before remembering Gyubin is still in hospital.
The master bedroom that is both yours and hers remains mostly untouched. Her knitted cardigan that matches with yours still hangs behind the door, the half-finished knitting rests beside the armchair. A pair of reading glasses sits atop the novel she never manages to finish (she tried, the books you read can be quite tiring to go through.)
The old suit still hangs there in the wardrobe, pressed and protected.
"…psss, Doctor Strange's cape, huh?"
As you close the wardrobe, a notebook slips from the top shelf. Small, has a floral cover, and softened corners. Strange, you don't remember seeing this before? Curiosity kills this old man, you sit down and open it.
The first page simply reads: Battle Plan for Prom.
Oh…so this is Gyubin's. Too adorable, your wife is.
The second page:
04/08/2021
I need to ask him.
Damn it, too scary. Maybe tomorrow.
05/08/2021
Ugh, I still didn't ask.
Is he that dense? No way right? At least he's pretty cute.
Hopefully he will ask me.
08/08/2021
Are boys always this dumb? Gargghhh notice me already!
10/08/2021
Bought a new keychain for my bag, and tried new perfume.
If he doesn't notice, I will just rocket myself out of the window.
12/08/2021
I have a brilliant idea: Let's just make a fake date and get some friends to spread the rumour. Let's see if that pretty boy looks jealous.
Oh my god, it might have worked. But I wish he would come to me and ask.
"…Song Gyubin, still my little gremlin."
Page after page, each with increasingly more doodles and schedules about this fake date operation, dress sketches and moodboard, and sometimes admittingly bullshit thoughts squeezed into the margins.
Then the final entry.
27/08/2021
He said yes. Gosh I'm the happiest girl in the world.
Please let every dance after this one be with him too.
A small drop lands on the paper before you notice you have been crying since the first page. Come on, gotta wipe this carefully, it's your wife's treasure! For sixty years, you thought she'd simply been teasing you, knowing how sheepish you are. Never knew she'd spent weeks planning every moment waiting, hoping, wishing for you to be hers, and counting down until the day.
Closing the book and gently placing it on the desk as you stand up, you reckon you should practice again, for the prom, of course! Gyubin is waiting.
-
Here is an old man in a navy suit awkwardly counting under his breath in the master bedroom, the room that he and his wife has spent every single moment next to each other.
"...Five..." Left foot. "...Six..." Right. "...Seven..." He immediately steps on his own shoe. "...Ow."
Ok, one more time. "...Five..." No, wrong foot, damn it. Again. "...Five..." Turn. "...Six..." Again. "...Seven..." Again.
And again.
Until your old legs ache. Until you count to eight without messing up the step. Until the rhythm slowly begins returning and imprints onto your body.
Just enough for one more dance, enough for a girl who's still waiting for prom on August 27th.
Alzheimer's disease can steal yesterday, today, eventually tomorrow. But it sure damn couldn't steal the boy who sprinted upstairs to change into a suit, or a girl who stood patiently on the porch, holding a boutonnière and gleaming with hope that her masterplan will work. Those two young 17 year olds still exist somewhere inside her, in parts or as a whole.
But what you know is that, if she insists on waiting for prom, then you'd happily spend the rest of your life making sure she never had to wait alone.
-
With every step you take
I feel good, it’s like we’re dancing together
My, oh my, oh my, oh, my love
Be my only love~
Author's note: just a short fluff to prove to @ducktoo that there is something more lewder than hand holding,
Dedicated to @erospandemos
=================================
There is a simple reason why sunday morning is your favourite time of the week.
As soon as you open your eyes you are blessed with Gyubin, the love of your life and your girlfriend for over 2 years. Her eyes are still close, fully immersed in her serene slumber, smiling from ear to ear while her hands and legs are wrapped around your body, similar to a koala.
And the best part? There is no pressure to get up, no work for you, no schedules for her, just you, her and your incredibly comfortable shared bed, so let yourself smile and turn to her ear to whisper "Morning Sunshine".
No response, just a quiet groan before turning away from you letting her back face you, making sure you know she wants to stay asleep. A small giggle escapes your lips while your hands now wrap around her once again, both resting on her tummy as your fingers begin gliding softly on her skin, making shapes in hopes to get a reaction.
"noooo...sleep" gyubin languidly responds, eyes still closed while trying to shake your hands away but without much success, only resulting in once again facing you, her forehead lightly touching yours, giving you a clear view of something that while you always loved, you never got to see from that close.
Her nose, while it was something she was quite insecure about, you always made sure to tell her that you loved it. From its shape the way it highlighted her cuteness, how she was scrunching it every time she pouted, all the way to how it felt on your neck every time you were cuddling, it always made your stomach do a flip.
So when suddenly you get an idea on how to wake her up, you know you cannot let this opportunity go.
You lean forward, just enough so your lips barely graze the tip of her nose before giving it a little peck, then moving away to see her reaction, how her cheeks slightly turned red before slowly fluttering her eyes to open up, and dammit you fell in love with her again.
"Did you just kiss my nose?" Gyubin asks, eyes looking at you with a warm gaze.
"I don't know, did i?"
"You're really not gonna let me stay asleep right?" You shake your head to her question, while an idiotic smile smeared across your face, and in response she giggles. "Okay, come here"
And she leans in to capture your lips with hers.
Oh so sweet and oh so soft, not that you expected anything different from Park Gyubin but regardless, you melt into the kiss, closing your eyes while you were shifting on the bed, and when you open your eyes, she is now laid on top of you, now fully awake with a smile that could rival the sun itself (or maybe she waa the sun in human form? You can't really now).
"You know you are extremely sappy, right?"
"Yep" You respond quickly as Gyubin leans in, letting her nose find its favourite spot: on the crook of your neck, slowly nuzzling it to get you giggling at the way it tickles.
"So, Mr. Sappy Boy, what did you plan that you woke me up now?" she whispered to your right ear before giving your neck a small peck to catch a soft reaction from you.
"Okay, so first: i get up"
"already not loving it, but go on..." She responds, her fingers start making traces on your chest underneath your shirt.
"Then, I wake up, i will make us some pancakes with Syrup plus some popcorn, and bring them to the bed..." you add, meanwhile your hands snake around her back, slowly rubbing her skin, getting her to close her eyes and quietly letting the tingles go through her spine.
"Okay..."
"and then i come back, we continue to cuddle while we are watching 'The princess bride' " you finish and the last sentence gets Gyubin's eyes lighting up
"And you will let me roleplay all of the scenes i love?"
A small sigh escapes your lips but you reluctantly respond, "Yes"
"Even the kissing scenes?" She asks. Knowing how much you find it annoying and cliche but you know there is no way you could resist her.
"Yes, even the kissing scenes" and In reaction she squeals in excitement, surprising considering how tired she was 5 minutes ago as now she leans in, talking in between each kiss on your own lips.
"You. Are. The. Best. Boyfriend. Ever. And. Forever, you know that right?"
And with a love drunk smile and red fully covering your cheeks, you let out a small chuckle and nod,
"Okay okay, shut up and go make us some pancakes, i will set up the TV for the movie okay?" she says, now taking off the blanket from your own body while the other pushes you out.
