NU’EST and 5 ways to say I love you
➛ Requested by a super sweet anon!
ARON
The night outside. You’re watching the dark sky through a window of his car. Aron’s hand rests next to your thigh, palm leaning against the knob of gear shift. He hums along with the radio, eyes gazing at you every now and then. You only act oblivious. There’s a wandering thought that perhaps he wants to say something and though you wait, he never does, just stares. As if enchanted, but by what exactly, you cannot figure out.
A bite on your cheek. It takes you by surprise, freezing in place, because who would even think to do so? Surely not Aaron? And yet, he’s the one visible in your peripheral vision. Absurd. He’s not the one to do things as drastic, even in the privacy of his own four walls. The pain doesn’t strike you, but the tickling in your throat, an effect of holding back laughter, does turn more unbearable with each passing second. Until you can’t keep it locked any longer, and the force pulls you out of Aaron’s already weak hold.
Running a few meters to catch up to him. Aaron didn’t stop along with you, but you quickly realize it wasn’t on purpose. As your hand grabs his elbow, he turns to watch you with innocent curiosity. He doesn’t mention the moment. And though you want to scold him - leaving your s/o behind is a no joking matter - the expression on his face makes you drop the topic. Aaron continues chattering about his day, so you listen, holding onto his arm just in case he doesn’t notice your departure next time.
Awkward glances. Aaron knows it’s not right, or at least how it should be, but he’s too confused to put thoughts into words. You, on the other hand, know he wants the best, which should be enough. The key word being should. When you’re brave enough, you return one of the stares. His first instinct is to retract, but just a look away has him thinking that perhaps it’s not the best course of action. Without a second glance, he reaches forward, to open the space by his side, just in case you decide you need it.
The lack of him in general. Neither your phone, nor your senses are graced by his presence. It’s as if he has never existed, and you’re close to believing that yes, indeed, he’s just a product of your vivid imagination. That he’s someone you’ve once dreamed about, or just a silhouette from family pictures, whose face is known, but ghostly. Days pass with you suffering from a heartache and that’s all he is - a ghost.
JR
Irritating pain in your eyes. The hour is late. The day’s effect is catching up to you. It’s too difficult to keep your eyes open. Jonghyun says something, but your clouded mind doesn’t catch a word. When you ask him to repeat, he just releases a good-natured laugh, as if your tragic state was a laughing matter. It’s his fault, after all. He’s the person responsible for keeping you awake past midnight. And even his adorable reaction to your sleepiness won’t correct his wrongdoings.
Holding his baseball cap, stunned that it’s the only thing of his you have that still smells of him. It’s weird to take comfort in something so... uncommon, but you’re too desperate at this point. The painful knowledge of him being away has you resorting to the strangest. Before the cap, you clung to his favorite yogurt. Before it, there was the shampoo he always uses. And though nothing has lasting effect, the moment of breathing in a familiar smell clears your head. Just a few seconds, but painless seconds.
Fingertips on your closed eyelids. Pressure on the lashes. Breath on your cheek. Coldness by your legs. Skin skimming against skin, only to disappear in a second. The hour must be late. A little concerned, you finally open your eyes. Jonghyun sighs in surprise. Like a deer caught in headlights, he’s frozen in his spot. Guilt strikes his features. He’s sure his carelessness woke you up. But who would be mad at the sweetest guy alive? If he can’t sleep, then so can’t you. That’s the verdict.
Small words of appreciation, you didn’t realize you needed. They always take you by surprise. One would think them an ambush, meant to bring Jonghyun a gift in the form of your embarrassed smile. But just a mention of his possible hidden intentions makes his face harden. How can you assume such vile things about his motives? All the compliments are genuine! Your embarrassment is just a bonus!
Being avoided. Though you lean forward to embrace him, Jonghyun turns away. His face is unreadable, empty. Your hands manage to lock around his waist in time, but they’re obviously unwelcome there. As if you were a virus, you’re rejected. Jonghyun stands stiff in your weak hold, wordless and emotionless. It hurts. It really hurts. You’re left with no other option, but to let him go. What he wants at the moment is not you. The only right course of action is to accept it.
BAEKHO
The plush of his lips on the back of your neck. It’s in a way restless - Dongho shows no sign of wanting to stop. His legs are settled around your hips, locking you in the embrace. There are things you should be doing instead of letting him lull you into sweet comfort, but he’s never once backed from an ambush. You may be trying to work, yet you do want him to take your mind off of the stress as well.
His silence. Mouth occupied by pancakes, Dongho doesn’t speak. Every then and now he just graces you with small noises of content. Their appearance is a spark of electricity, opening your mouth in a smile. Though your work doesn’t end at making him comfort food, the progress in lifting his spirits is still a success that should be celebrated. And so, you gift yourself with the continuation of staring at Dongho’s passionate eating habits. He’s too taken by the pancakes to notice it.
Fingernails scratching stitches on your jeans. He’s nervous, this much is obvious. The empty look on his face tells you that the thoughts have taken Dongho miles away, and none of your words will be registered by his mind. The scratching turns weaker for a moment as he glances at the clock. Its ticking seems to irritate him only more. Finally, you cover his hand with your own and Dongho smiles a little. You presence alone won’t save him, but it does give him a little bit of warmth and assurance, that at the end of the day, he’s not alone.
A little yelp of excitement, so inaccurate for a man built like Dongho. Though he’s more of a big bad wolf appearance-wise, his smiling face reminds you of a baby. He dances around the room, eyes bright and happy. None of the questioning looks you shoot his way are enough to grant you an answer. Dongho ignores your stares, until he finally grabs your hands to pull you along. For a long time he doesn’t explain what the hell is going on, but when he’s acting like that, you cannot just stop him. The questions have to wait.
How his fists tighten when he’s mad. Dongho doesn’t think about hiding them, he’s too taken by the all-consuming anger. It’s a normal thing to get frustrated, but somehow, seeing him mad is... different? You’re not used to the paling insides of his fingers, an effect of limited blood flow. You know he won’t do anything, it’s just his way of offloading, and yet, somewhere deep in your mind, you’re scared. Terrified, but of the possibility it will stay this way between you and him.
MINHYUN
Reaching for his hand when the moment feels vile. Minhyun, though not a fan of publicly displayed affection, doesn’t take his fingers away. They interlock with yours, grip quick to tighten in a comforting manner. The world instantly seems a little bit more bearable. As soon as you turn to look at him, Minhyun’s gaze meets yours. There’s a question whether you’re fine. Not wanting to have him worried any longer, you nod yes. With him, you’ll be fine.
The coldness of an ice pack. Your momentary lack of focus costed you pain and tears. Now Minhyun, taking the role of a house nurse, stands behind you, holding a bundle of ice cubes and using the moment to scold you. Because how dare you hurt yourself when he’s just a few steps away? How dare you not give him a chance to save you from the dangers of living? How dare you roll your eyes when he’s teaching you an important lesson of self-preservation? And don’t even think about whining at the coldness, it’s meant to freeze!
A laptop you have completely forgotten. Though Minhyun’s attention is all on you and he’s reaching lower your back, the sound of crashing electronics forces you apart. You take a look at his swollen lips before turning to search for the source of all commotion. Minhyun’s hands fall on your thighs, still not ready to let go completely. He doesn’t seem concerned about the noise. If anything, it’s the growing distance between the two of you that he’s wary of. When you sheepishly tell him that it’s his laptop that fell, he just grunts and then pulls you back.
Washing your hands when he encircles you from behind. Minhyun’s head rests on your shoulder, meanwhile his fingers cover yours under the stream of running water. He doesn’t speak. There’s no need, you know he expects you to wash his hands as well. It’s a little thing you have a habit of spoiling him with. As you silently comply, Minhyun laughs, chest trembling against your back. Though you can’t see, you can feel his gaze on your profile.
A heavy gaze. One that pushes you down, until you’re flat against the ground, trembling in fear, because you’re its object. Minhyun won’t say a word, but he watches, as if he was feeding on your terror. But how can someone be vicious enough to put a boot on your lungs and remain silent, indifferent to the tortures they’re putting you through? Of course, he’s awaiting a grand apology, but even tired, breathless from the anger olympics, you don’t want to relent. Not when he’s not free of his own wrongdoings.
REN
The stark shape of his nose, digging itself into your cheek. Minki is trying to get a reaction out of you, but while doing so, he only causes you a meltdown inside. Instead of a grimace, he’s rewarded with a sweet smile. Minki wants to push your buttons more, the soul of a troublemaker is chewing his ear off, and yet he gives up. It doesn’t go past your attention - his defeated, but genuine smile is a sight to behold.
Delicate skin you are allowed to touch. Minki’s facing away from you, either moaning or whining, depending on what nerve you’re currently crunching. Few times he tries to swat your hands away, but you’re not that easily scared by his threats. They can’t be serious. When he makes a sarcastic comment about your great massage techniques, you act dumb and dig where it hurts him. Minki scowls, but gives up, promising he won’t open his mouth again. A few minutes is how long he can go without uttering a word.
The moment he forgets himself in the feeling of being close. Minki’s hot breath is blowing at your lips, and though you anticipate a kiss, it’s never placed. It’s as if some greater being has stopped the time for him, imprisoning Minki in the pose. Having him so close is heavenly, but just as happy as you are, the need to laugh overpowers. His eyes open at the sound, surprised. Once again, he returns to the body of a born teaser.
A pair of gloves, thrown at you seemingly out of annoyance. At least that’s what’s written on Minki’s face. Annoyance, because you’re forgetful enough to hurt yourself in the cold season. Stiff fingers have trouble putting the material on. You hesitate. Is it really okay for you take the gloves? Minki gave you them himself, but sometimes we hurt ourselves for others. It’s a reminder that he cares a lot, no matter how much of trouble he’s brought you. Or how deep is the frown on his features.
The face of disinterest. You hate it with burning passion. It’s his way of telling you that things aren’t alright between the two of you. That he feels distaste, as if he was staring at a plate of mold. Minki’s words are cold, pulled straight out of freezing temperatures. They make your back stiffen, eyes glaze over, hands tighten their grip. You want to disappear, melt away and seep through the ground to mix with the depths. Maybe then you wouldn’t have to suffer at the hands of his indifferent facial expression.
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