LOVE SCENARIO
@mmnana
here’s the thing about first love that nobody tells you: it sucks.
for the amount of hours junsu spent sitting in the living room, peering over his phone as he and his sisters all clung onto the latest drama, nothing seemed to prepare him for this.
(how the normally sociable kwak junsu could turn into a flushed mess, at a loss for words when he usually couldn’t find a single breath to fit all of them. how his palms could get sweaty without moving an inch and his knees could wobble from a single glance).
in the dramas, things flowed as if guided by some predetermined force (jungmi noona calls it a predictable script, jina mutters something about fate). first love was depicted as romantic; easy. but there isn’t anything romantic about itchy palms from nervous sweating and tripping over wobbly legs. and there’s definitely nothing easy about being pigeonholed into the dreadful role that seems to follow him wherever he goes:
little. brother.
when han seol calls him those two words in passing, kwak junsu feels the earth crumble beneath him as he reads her lips in slow motion. little brother? he kicks at the gravel, pouting, as he stuffs his hands in his pockets. he’s only a year younger, he mumbles, brows furrowed in petulance.
he’d gone home that night with the worry practically etched on his face. naturally, none of the kwak sisters noticed as junsu stared at them with a clearly pained expression. but he had to bite his tongue, his head drooping sadly as he picked at his dinner. no, he thought. if any of his sisters knew, they’d never live it down.
sunwoo hyung proved just as inexperienced, and gyul hyung simply stared at him with his regular deadpan.
(desperate times call for desperate measures, and since he couldn’t go to his sisters, he could go to the next best thing):
“kimha noona!”
(at least one of the twins would prove helpful).
junsu plopped down beside kim hana at lunch hour, his metal lunch tray clanking against the dining hall table. he puts an extra yogurt on kim hana’s tray wordlessly— payment, upfront, for what he asks for next:
“how can i get someone to like me?”
