warnings: angst, weapons (there’s teeny tiny bit fluff and teeny tiny kisses too but mostly angst👀)
pairing: Chris (Bang Chan) x Oc
words: under 1k
a/n: the idea for this au is stuck in my head for months now. The preview turned out longer than expected- just wanna see if people still like some good ol’ mafia au 👀 should i actually turn this into a whole au?imagine i wanted to do this with ateez but well. I saw one (1) gif of Chris and byeeeee.
x
She looked outside the window, her eyes scanning every detail of the dark streets she could see. She thought about everything what happened these past hours and sighed. These hours felt like months slowly passing by yet like brief seconds at the same time. Her eyes looked up to the dark sky, which was slightly illuminated by the bright city lights. She saw how it slowly began to snow. The snowflakes were small, she could barely see them with her tired eyes yet they became more and danced through the cold air. Hypnotized by their dancing, her fingers trailed over the glass of the window, following the snowflakes.
Just for a second she felt peaceful.
Suddenly she heard the wooden floor in front of her door creaking and flinched, turning around and immediately grabbing the gun she always carried with her, even in her own bedroom. She felt her body stiffen and her mind going blank, how her breath started to hitch and her heart rate increase as her body filled with adrenaline. She cocked the gun with a click, pointing it at the door across the room. The young women tried to calm her breath, slow down her pounding heart and concentrate on holding the gun still, ready to shoot any moment.
“May I come in?” A male voice asked politely letting her relax at once. Her legs felt weak as the adrenaline rushed out of her body as fast as it came in. She leaned her back against the window, closing her dry eyes. Her hands wandered down, securing the weapong again before letting it rest on the ledge.
She felt how his eyes scanned her, filled with worry. It hurt to see him worry about her.
“They’re- We’re- worried about you. After all that happened.. I thought maybe you’d want to talk.”, Chris said with this incredible soft and caring voice. It took all of her strength to not just run into his arms and cry. But no. She knew she couldn’t do that, no matter how loud her heart started to beat and longed for his embrace.
“Thank you for your concern. But I’d honestly rather be alone right now.”, the women said, trying her best not to look into Chris’ eyes. The danger of her heart bursting into pieces once more were just too high.
“Please don’t push me away.”, a sigh escaped his lips as he moved to stand in front of her, his hand softly grabbing hers, trying to intertwine their cold fingers.
“Chris-“
“Don’t. I’m always by your side, you should know that.”, he whispered, his head resting on her shoulder before he placed a soft kiss in the crook of her neck.
She closed her eyes for a second, her body enjoying his touches way too much for her own good. She knew that it was wrong. But how can something be wrong if it felt so right? It was clear, that she could never be with him the way she so desperately wanted to and it tore her apart.
The way he touched her was so soft, like he was afraid she could break. She heard all these things he whispered to her, felt all these sparks and warmth growing inside her whenever his delicate lips touched her skin.
The way his lips placed dozens of small kisses on her neck, her cheek, her forehead and the cold tip of her nose made her body nearly shake. She felt so deeply for him she couldn’t find normal words to describe it. She loved the way he touched her with such softness and how his voice was filled with just so much affection.
She stared at their intertwined hands for a second before looking up at his face for the first time, his lips forming a sweet smile. The exact same smile she fell for not so long ago.
Her eyes wandered down to his lips, her body longing for more of him. She locked her eyes with his again, still torn inside, her mind fighting against her heart with such power. He slowly moved his head closer to hers, just until she could feel his breath against her skin, their noses softly touching. She could almost feel his lips on hers, her heart screaming for them to finally be with hers, yet she knew it was wrong. She needed to stop this - for both of their sakes.
“We can’t.”, she sighed, her voice shaking. She pressed her eyes shut, her head dropping down as she let go of Chris’ warm hands.
She knew he wanted to say something. She knew he suffered just as much as her. For a second, his emotions were written all over his face when she looked up but as soon as he saw her gaze he decided to put on a facade and moved away.
“I’m so sorry, Chris.” she tried to whisper but her voice broke down. She wanted to reach for him, grabbing his hand, pulling him to her, embracing him in her arms.
But she couldn’t.
“It’s alright, really. I’ll continue to guard so don’t worry. Try to get some sleep - I’ll see you tomorrow.”, he simply said, his voice shaking just as much as hers, showing her once more that she wasn’t the only one hurt. It tortured her to hear the pain in his voice but there was no other way.
Her eyes followed Chris’ silhouette and how it disappeared through the door without turning back. As soon as the door closed, the young women let her body slide down on the floor, face buried in her hands, her heart still beating strongly in her chest. Her mind was loud, screaming at her. It was an exhausting fight inside of her, draining her energy. She wanted to be strong but she felt how tears started to build up in the corner of her eyes and before she could even think they started to roll down her cheeks. She wrapped her own arms around her bend legs and pressed them together to try to feel at least a tiny bit of comfort. Too exhausted to fight against the tears she just let them freely roll over her cheeks, dropping down on her knees. Her body felt stiff and way too cold but she couldn’t move.
It felt like all the warmth she just had left the room with him.
A/N: Masterlist linked down below and in bio! | Thank you for reading <3
ღ Stray Kids M.List | Other M.List ღ
- ۵ ۵ ۵ - ۵ ۵ ۵ - ۵ ۵ ۵ -
[오후 4:51]
It was hard to say when the last time you saw your best friend was.
Yang Jeongin was notorious for the subtle art of not really putting too much thought into the little things. Rather, you remembered him as liking to focus on the big picture: where you were going, what you were doing. The final destination. Sure, he seemed to have an opinion about everything. A strong one at that. But...it came so fleetingly. So cunning and without much effort. It was a small and trivial flame that charred the edges of the frame, only to flicker and sputter out, leaving a trail of smoke behind.
His words would never leave you. They tended to leave a mark on everyone.
Bujeon Station was crowded and hot that summer afternoon. It was practically evening, just nearly five p.m., when his train was set to arrive in Busan; your hometown the two of you shared. The Yang family had been your neighbors diagonally across the street, after your father received a once-in-a-lifetime work opportunity and jumped ship to South Korea. You’d been six then. After a year of realizing being a single parent was hard, your mother made a few phone calls and a contract agreement with your father’s new company led you here, to a small-ish, homey neighborhood along safely-lit streets; where pear trees were plenty and the occasional stray cat could be found lazing the day away atop stone-brick walls like some Ghibli movie.
“Y/n.”
Your head shot up just before spiraling into a fervent daydream, a tall, angular shadow casting rays of doubt over your face. Yang Jeongin, in the flesh.
“Y/n, hey…”
You’re pretty sure you’ve had dreams like this. You, standing at the end of the platform, your rain boots glued to the puddle-riddled pavement as smoke and fog and the gossiping crowds billow all around you. The Monsoon season, your raincoat dripping tears and condensation as your tattered old umbrella hangs limp against your fingers, the ghost of a grip that’s scarcely there.
The crowds part. The fog clears, a patch of sight that’s there for a few elongated moments, slowed down by the racing of your thoughts, spinning, twirling, ricocheting off words that have yet to be said.
And in that crypt was Yang Jeongin. Staring right at you.
“Y/n.”
Wow, what an incredible sound. Your name on his lips. The way it slides right off his tongue so casually and echoes around the vacating corridor, growing louder with each stride...closer, closer…
“Y/n!”
Agile fingers waved to and fro, startling your line of vision. Blinking rapidly, you shook your head, a familiar goofy grin spreading across your cheeks. “...Jeongin! Hi! Hello! I’m Y/n! ...I-I mean…”
His chuckle sends shivers down your spine. Since when had it become so deep? Your eyes rake over his body as well; he was now toned, better than toned, fit and ready to retake that Physical Fitness exam he’d nearly failed just a year before heading off to become a famous icon. Since when did that happen?! “I see you haven’t outgrown that nervous habit of yours. It’s cute, really.”
Cute. He called you cute. The heat from the...rain season...no, the...the vacating crowds, yes, the heat from so many other people made you flush.
When you didn’t reply and instead continued to stare at his arms poking out of rolled-up coat sleeves, your friend of so many relinquished years leaned down to meet you at eye level, sending you a brace-less grin. No braces. Gone. Pearly whites remaining. “Are you ready to go?”
“Go?” Go?! It was time to go already?!
“...Yeah.” His charming laugh graced your ears again, and he leaned forward to nudge your shoulder. Affectionately. “We’re going to have lunch? Right? Oh, but I wanted to stop by home and drop my stuff off.” He gave his bag a shake. “It...might also be a good idea to say hi to Mom and Dad too. Haha.”
Oh. Not go. Just go...to lunch. Here. In town. PHEW.
You nodded, a blank canvas still on your face. It was funny how, before, Jeongin had always been the colorless work of art; now, it was all you. Here he was, so vibrant and almost unrecognizable…
Perhaps, this is what he’d meant by the phrase. “Yeah...let’s...go.”
“......”
After giving you a once over, he bobbed his head, motioning for you to follow, and you tailed him to the station exit in a daze. Thoughts of the empty period where you’ve almost put a hold on your friendship creep into your mind, circling around like a deathly merry-go-round: Yang Jeongin has grown up. He’s so different now. He’s gone. He’s left you behind…
What could it be that’s made him so happy? Who? Was it a girl? Was it the guys he was with now? He always seemed so happy during your breaks between shifts or slow Sunday afternoons whenever you’d watch him at his company, practicing with his friends, telling dumb jokes, taking heat and teasing for being the youngest…
It almost wasn’t fair. That used to be the two of you, up until he was encouraged to pursue a singing career.
It’s raining when you make it to the front of the building. In the midst of heavy foot traffic and a sudden transformation you failed to notice, strong fingers entwine with yours; your childhood friend now hovering beside you. His eyes crinkled warmly from above his mask and beneath the brim of his baseball cap. “You’re as spacey as ever. I’m surprised you haven’t been hit by a car by now.”
...There were those snarky remarks you remembered. Burning and singeing at the edges; at least some things never change no matter how long you’ve been away. “I--”
Jeongin hardly gives you a chance to answer. “C’mon! It’s cold and I’m starving!”
Yank! “Wha--!”
Yang Jeongin pulls you so hard, the umbrella you’ve had since the two of you were twelve goes flying out of your hand, bursting open and tumbling upward in the opposite direction. A color paints itself on that previously blank face of yours: cold, frantic, annoyed. You cried out, but his joyous laughter and the sounds of splashing water entirely drowns you; that, and his empty promises to buy you a new one.
The two of you, laughing, dive headfirst into a tunnel of memories. It may have been hard to remember when the last time you saw your best friend was, but this whimsical memory would do. Yang Jeongin, pulling you nineteenth to the dozen out of your thoughts and into a roaring, colorful fire.
With a willful pull, you’re flooded back into the markings, leaving the little things behind.
A/N: inspired by the song “Vibe So Hot,” Priscilla Ahn
ღ Stray Kids M.List | M.List ღ
-〤〤〤-
There were times when you weren’t really sure about Han Jisung.
The day you moved from your parent’s house into your new home, life was a dream. A delight. A living fantasy. You and your closest friend of twenty-odd years had been visualizing it for ages- a home for just the two of you, where you could make and break all the rules you wanted, eat dinner out of the cookie jar, throw paint and crayon all over the walls, and dump all the grease, homework, and leftover brussel sprouts down the garbage disposal that you wanted. It would be your kingdom with the two of you at equal pedestal on the throne, and no one could say or do anything about it.
While your visuals and ideals did change over time, what with hormones and taxes and a general understanding of how the world worked, you and F/n never stopped dreaming of the day you each held one half of the kingdom between your fingers. One half of freedom. It was a blissful, beautiful Tuesday morning. Exactly five months ago. Birds chirping in the small tulip trees. The sweet spring breeze ruffling the surrounding azaleas. The simple but water-efficient sprinkler system the two of you had worked a summer job to afford that was...spraying…...coke…
...Yes, it had been a beautiful Tuesday morning. And also the arrival of hell next door.
“HAN JISUNG!” you yelled, banging on your neighbor’s front door. “Han Jisung, I know you’re home!” You stamped your foot. “Open this door right now!”
It was now five months later. Five months since you’d moved into your dream home, something small and sweet and affordable that you and your friend worked hard for years to achieve. Just something small to start the two of you out, while you finished up school and figured out what the heck the two of you wanted to do with the rest of your lives.
It had easily become five months of back-and-forth hell. “HAN JISUNG!!!”
Click. The door slowly creaked open. It was dark inside, far too dark for 2 pm, like something out of a horror movie.
Oh, but you weren’t falling for another one of his tricks. Not this time. “Han Jisung, I know you’re there…” You called...weakly. “C-Come out this instant. I know it was you who stuffed cereal into the birdfeeder and left glue on the door handles. I was almost late for work this morning and F/n is stuck on the back porch.”
There was no response. You agitatedly sighed, running a hand through your hair and taking a handful of strands with you thanks to the faint remainder of krazy glue that simply wouldn’t come off.
“Han,” you called, poking your head inside. “Han? Han Jisun-”
The moment you stepped inside, a loud whrr! resounded, your body hoisting upwards. You spun around in the flimsily thin netting, falling into a fetal position backwards.
Han and a few of his cronies came out cackling at your expense, watching you gently spin and sway in their ridiculous trap. “I caught Y/n!” one of them cheered. “That’s 1,000 points.”
Another scoffed. “You didn’t do anything,” he said, blowing long blonde locks out of his face. “The points go to me for setting up the...project.”
“Shouldn’t they go to Han?” Yet another asked. “It’s his house.”
You rolled your eyes, attempting to adjust. Han tromped over proudly and swung his arm around the boy. “Exactly!” he cheered, pinching his cheek. “I’m glad you see it my way.”
The kid squinted his fox-like features in disgust, shoving the ringleader away from him. Han merely laughed, smirking up at you next. He sent a flirtatious wink your way. You scoffed.
“S’up, gorgeous?”
“Drop dead.”
“Ouch,” he playfully winced, pretending to take literal damage. “Didn’t like the glue, or the cereal? I told Hyunjin no one wanted his bland raisin garbage. But,” He shrugged. “He insisted it was good for the birds. The raisins, anyway-”
“Screw you,” Goldilocks groaned. “Shove off, I never said I ate the stuff. I just said it was better than wasting Lucky Charms or something actually good.”
“...Yeah, so there’s that.” He spared a passing eye roll before putting back on his deceitfully charming smile. Disgusting. “What brought you to swing by? Just dropping in?”
The other boys laughed again, causing you to turn an annoying shade of pinkish-red, some cross between coral and rouge. “I don’t have to tell you anything!” you snapped in your anger.
Unfortunately, Han Jisung needed to know the facts. “Then...how am I supposed to help you? Oh, oh! Hold on a minute.” He simpered. “Are you maybe trying to tell me that you came by unannounced because...you wanted to get caught up in my web?”
Han’s crew all made catcalls and whistles along with nervous smiles and suggestive expressions. The nerve of him. You fought yourself into an upright position, clawing angrily at the seams. “I meant you already know what you did wrong! Get me out of this stupid thing and get over to my house so you can fix it.”
“Oooo,” A freckled-faced boy you recognized as Felix cooed. He’d often been a leading officer in many of Han’s classic pranks and schemes. “I think she wants you bro.”
The heat on your face was intensifying, whether from rage or embarrassment, you didn’t care. Your prison shook. “That’s not what I-”
“Well then,” Han (classically) interrupted. “Guess I better get over there and fix it.” He wiggled his eyebrows in a salacious manner, padding around the clamour of boys and taking the stairs three at a time like a gazelle. When he reached the top, he revealed a rope from around the corner, lowering you gently...at first.
After three careful tugs, he dropped the rope entirely. Your eyes went wide, screaming as you fell--
...Right into Han Jisung’s arms. The boy glided down the stair rail and caught you at the last possible second. “Plenty of time to spare,” he insisted, showing you his teeth.
You slapped them away, wrestling your way back to your feet. “...You’re such an asshole, Han Jisung,” You dusted yourself off, smoothing out your attire single handedly. “I--”
...You yanked your hand down. Away from his face. Hard. Harder.
It was stuck. Your hand was stuck to his cheek. Krazy glue.
“OW! Ow ow ow okay! That hurts! Sh*t!” He cursed. You rolled your eyes, kicking his leg.
“That’s what you get for gluing my door! Now come on!”
To make things less awkward, you gripped his left ear, yanking him like a mother would a misbehaving child. The others crowded around and followed, laughing as—
The door slammed in their face. “OW!” You heard Hyunjin yelp. His watered-down image through the distorted window showed him covering his nose, the other two goons frantically asking if he was okay.
...Well, Felix did, anyway. Fox-face merely stared and shook his head a little. “Let’s go. You’re cleaning the glue off both doors and changing out the birdfeeder. If you screw it up, you’re buying me a new one.” A harsh gaze fell over your shoulder. “After you unstick F/n!”
Han grunted, his groans and whines a feeble echo of white noise along with the ridiculous passes he occasionally made on the way over.
-〤〤〤-
After spending an hour and a half watching Han unstick glue from around your house (after unsticking your hand from his face) and taking a trip down to the hardware store for a new birdfeeder that 100% came out of his pocket, you sighed, trudging yourself through the front door and collapsing onto the nearest sofa by a front-facing window. You leered, observing Han shuffle up his own walkway and exchange harsh words with his friends before they all piled inside.
That bastard. He was always coming after you, ever since you first moved into the neighborhood. After the first week of assaults (from moving day) you’d asked the other neighbors if any of them had any bad experiences from house 117, but they all gave a generally same response: “Who, Han Jisung? Oh, heavens no! He’s such a nice boy! A little quirky, sure, but such a nice boy! ...Are you sure it wasn’t a raccoon or a stray cat?”
Heh, yeah. Like a stray cat was capable of impersonating your friend to have the locks on your house changed. Didn’t they have to do security checks for that stuff?!
Speaking of locks, the sound of keys ricocheted from your left, and you turned your head to see F/n enter...very strangely. They looked spooked, their eyes wide as they turned their head this way and that, creeping into the house like an Egyptian wall painting.
“Is the cost clear?” they asked. “Is he gone? Nothing’s missing? Nothing’s amiss?”
“Relax, F/n,” you said, scratching your head. You desperately needed a shower, but that had been rather hard with the pipes spewing nothing but Mr. Pibb for the past three days. It’d apparently be a fourth until they cleared out. “The menace is gone, back to his evil layer. I made sure he cleaned up his mess and got him to replace your grandmother’s birdfeeder.”
F/n scowled, back to normal as they tromped into the room, throwing their bags down. “She made that birdfeeder from scratch, Y/n. With her own two arthritis riddled hands, that birdfeeder may as well have been an ancient relic. It was one of a kind.”
“I know, I know,” you insisted, peacefully trying to calm them down. “Just relax. I got it under control and taken care of.”
“You said that last time. Now look at the place.”
You looked around. “...It looks spotless. Han actually did a really nice job with that extra work he put in.”
“Well it wasn’t before! ...Wait, you let him into the house?!”
Whoops. “Only to do some extra chores. To make up for outside. And many other times he’s screwed us over.”
Your friend grabbed the sides of their hair, practically seething. They regarded you like you’d gone insane, and they were just on the brink. “Y/n have you lost your mind? Are you stupid? I thought you were smart! What was that 3.5 GPA for?!”
“Hey, GPA isn’t everything. It’s just a matter of getting on a teacher’s good side and paying attention. Also, I’m aware that...that may have not been the best move. But it’s fine!” you insisted, now following your friend into the kitchen. “I was watching him the whole time. He didn’t leave my line of sight once!”
F/n opened the fridge, glaring perplexedly. “...Not once?”
“......”
You thought. Oh wait...well…
You smiled sheepishly. “...Actually...ahaha...he may have asked to go to the bathroom once…”
F/n’s jaw dropped. “And you let him?!”
Your hands found their way into the air. “What was I supposed to do, F/n? Follow him into the bathroom? That’s creepy and gross and uncalled for.”
Your friend grabbed a beer from the fridge, slamming the door shut after. “No, Y/n. You tell him to go next door and use his bathroom.”
“But what if it was an emergency?”
“I think he can hold it.”
“But what if he couldn’t?”
They paused just beside you, giving you a harsh glare. “After all he’s done? I’d say that’s a real shame and another mess he’d have to clean up.”
“F/n--!”
“NO, Y/N,” Your friend of twenty-odd years turned to you, making it halfway back to the front door. “You don’t get it! It has been five years--”
“Five months.”
“...It has felt like I have had my guard up for five years. I can’t relax in my own home. I can’t relax at work, I can’t relax at school-- I can’t relax anywhere!” They polished off the beer, crumbling the can and tossing it aimlessly into the kitchen. You ducked, the can soaring over your left ear and colliding with a kitchen cabinet. “URGH!”
They grabbed their bags, beginning to march out. You were faster, sliding on sock-clad feet across Han-polished floors to beat them to it, blocking the exit. “F/n, listen. Please. I agree it’s bad, but I think you’re overreacting just a little.”
“Overreacting?! …” S/he crossed his/her arms, glaring at you skeptically and in disbelief. “Okay, fine. Which bathroom did he use?”
“Huh?”
“Which bathroom?”
You swallowed, thinking again. “...Uh...the upstairs one.”
F/n deadpanned. Cold and hard. “Great. Thank you for that. All my school supplies are up there. My office and workspace is up there. That’s where I sleep, Y/n.” You blinked.
“You sleep in your office?”
“URGH!”
They pushed you aside, storming into the wide, open world. Hysterically you followed, snagging your keys off the side table by the front door and making sure to lock up behind you. “F/n- ...F/n wait…! Ah, stupid locks…!”
“Don’t follow me, Y/n!”
“WAIT!”
“I SAID DON’T FOLLOW ME!”
From the corner of your eye, a silhouette of dark brown hair and overly-white teeth made its way toward your property line. “Hello F/n, Y/n.” The careful fall breeze blew the shade from his eyes, where evil and mischief still resided. “Having a little back and forth banter, are we? A disagreement, perhaps?”
Han-bleeping-Jisung. Your vision narrowed, a scowl aimed directly at him. When he was around, it’s all you could focus on. Your senses heightened, and not in a good way. He couldn’t be trusted.
You shouldn’t have let him into your house. Your sensors were picking up on something. He seemed too happy for someone that was just forced into doing chores in a house that wasn’t their own. And willing so…
A hot vibe was residing along the back of your neck, between your shoulder blades. A sinking, sensationally bad feeling. “What can we help you with, Han?”
“Oh,” he piped, brows raised. “We’re on a single name basis now. That’s rare.”
F/n cast him a dark look and continued down the sidewalk to their car. You sighed, trying to relax and having little success; F/n was right, it was hard to remain calm with a hellion next door. “What do you need?”
Han Jisung shoved his hands in his pockets. “Need is a strong word. I need a lot of things. Food, water, air--”
A groan escaped your lips. “Fine. Forgive me. What do you want?”
“Hmmm…” He smirked, listing his head. “I want a lot of things, princess. Depends what you’re referring to.”
You’re pretty sure you could hear the gag coming from F/n’s car as they started the engine, shifting into reverse. Han chuckled, letting you know he heard it too.
“Alright, fine.” He held his hands up in surrender. “You caught me. I came to warn you.”
“Warn me about what?”
“......” He pursed his lips. “...I may have gotten a bit carried away and...well, I couldn’t resist, really. But I was thinking and, maybe it was in bad taste. Since Hyunjin did break your grandmother’s bird-thing.”
A rustling came from the bushes. “That wasn’t me! That was you!”
Han cringed, turning over his right shoulder. “Shhh!”
You faltered, zoning in on Han’s shrubbery. “Who is that? Is that Hyunjin hiding in your flowers?”
Han rolled his eyes, tossing...some junk from his pockets. A coin or something. “I told you not to say a word!”
Blonde hair revealed itself from the viburnum bushes on Han’s property. “Cattywampus.”
“I SAID TO SHHH!”
Hyunjin scoffed. “Oh, so when we’re playing Scrabble, it’s not a word. But now that we’re probing Y/n for information, all of a sudden, it’s a word!”
The air left your lungs, quite dramatically, and you took a step back farther into the safety of your porch. “...What is he talking about? What information?”
Tensions spiked like never before. Han simply groaned. “Dammit...thanks a lot, Hyunjin.” He turned to you with a sour face. “Yeah, okay, whatever, just...I wanted to know when your birthday was.”
He shrugged, trying to pull off the most innocent, blow-it-off look possible. You weren’t buying it. “What were you saying before? What did you do to my house?”
“Oh yeah,” He clasped his hands behind his back, sending another classic trademarked wink your way. Hyunjin freed himself from the viburnum flowers, along with Fox-face, who’d gotten himself tangled up in the next-door rose bush; he tripped over an illy placed hoolahoop and ran into Hyunjin, the two of them taking turns removing literal thorns from their sides. “I left you a present inside.”
I left you a present inside.
I left you a present inside.
He left you a present inside your house. A surprise. A bad one. You had invited him into your living space, your relaxation hub where relaxation was scarce, and gave him just enough alone time to leave something behind.
Something terrible. Something rotten.
Han Jisung was no longer looking like Han Jisung to you; what you saw before you was his true form: a plotting, overzealous, sadistic little impish demon of a man, no...a demon pretending to be a man. Someone like Han Jisung couldn’t possibly be human. There was no love at all in his heart.
“F/N!” You yelled, chasing after them as they drove down the street. “F/N, WAIT! STOP THE CAR! PLEASE!!!”
You could feel Han Jisung’s eyes as he trailed you all the way down Maple Street, his friends watching as F/n hit the brakes a hundred feet shy of the stop sign and let you clamber in the back.
“Step on it.”
S/he nodded, slamming the accelerator and getting the two of you safely out of Dodge. “I’m going to a friend’s house. I have to return a few things I borrowed before Han Hellion ruins them,” They looked over their shoulder. “Where are you headed?”
Your eyes glared proudly through the rearview mirror. F/n drew back, nervously looking between you and the road unassured.
But there was nothing for it. They could yell and pitch a fit at you later. Today, this very moment, everything was going to end.
“The craft store,” you said. “And you’re coming with me.”
“What?”
“We’re taking our house back.”
“......”
The car rolled to a stop at the cross section of Water and Runway Boulevard. If it was the friend you were thinking of, F/n would have to make a right here. Your local craft store was the opposite direction.
With a unanimous nod through the rearview, the two of you made a left down Water Street.
-〤〤〤-
Hobby Lobby had to be your favorite store, next to Fye’s Music Records where you occasionally went for your music collection and your favorite restaurant. ...Though a store wasn’t really a restaurant, and vice-versa.
You and F/n scoured the many aisles of arts and crafts, decor and gifts, candles and knick-knacks, searching high and low for everything on a messy-scribbled list the two of you put together in the parking lot. Revenge was going to be so sweet. Total bliss.
“Buckets?” A young employee repeated back to you. “Yes, let’s see, they should be near the back of the store, on the right-hand side. If you pass the glitter and pipecleaners, you’ve gone too far. I believe they’re on Aisle 13.”
“Thanks,” F/n said, grabbing your wrist and dragging you behind them. They almost seemed more excited about this whole revenge-war than you did. “Aisle 10...Aisle 11...Aisle--”
S/he stopped, pale-stricken. “What is it?” You tried peering around the corner. “What’s wrong? Are they sold out or somethi--”
Your heart nearly stopped. There, in the middle of the aisle, stood Lee Felix, perusing a wide selection of glitter glue. A bucket (not a basket) hung from slack fingers, carrying a barrage of other craft equipment as well as a plastic bag from the Home Depot next door.
Some kind of rage was flooding through your system. You could sense it in F/n as well. The two of you were in sync, fed up with the Hellion Clan’s crazy antics and batsh*t ideas that only brought you pain and suffering. Enough was enough.
You practically shoved your friend aside. “LEE FELIX!”
Felix jumped, startled, frantic, eyes zooming in on you like a deer in headlights.
Then, unlike a deer in headlights, he ran.
“AFTER HIM!” F/n cried, shoving the list in their pocket. S/he ran farther towards the front of the store to block the entrance, while you followed in hot pursuit of the freckled boy’s trail.
Your phone buzzed as you ran, and without taking your eyes off your target you shuffled it out of your purse, slamming the receive button a little too hard. “What?!”
“He’s going towards the back of the store! He’s heading for the emergency exit!”
You gave a quizzical look toward your friend’s voice coming out of your phone, then back at your target’s backside. “What? How do you know that? Where are you?!”
“Look up. Aisle 1. Holiday crafts.”
Carefully your eyes scanned the tops of the shelves near the entrance, and after doing a double take on a statue you found F/n squatting among some Santa Claus and Christmas angels, a pair of high-grade binoculars in their mits.
You had no idea when they’d gotten those. “Where did you get those from?! How the heck did you get up there?”
“That’s not important right now! Just SEIZE HIM! He’s getting away, run faster!”
With an aggravated grunt you hung up, shoving your phone away and pushing your legs to hit the tile twice as hard. Some twenty feet in front of you Felix squeaked, making a surprise turn down Aisle 2 and knocking over a stack of decorative boxes. You cursed, calling forth your skills from high school gym to hurdle yourself over the monstrosity and skid to a temporary halt before barreling down the half-storage half-Christmas decor aisle.
“He’s getting away!” F/n yelled. “Move!!!”
“Why don’t you help me?!” You called back. Felix made a 90 degree turn, charging farther back into the store in the opposite way you were anticipating; unless…
A store manager suddenly appeared at the end of the aisle, holding her hand out to stop you. “Excuse me, I don’t think so; there’s no horseplay allowed in the store.”
Though she tried to grab you, you dodged like a badass, perrying right, then left, then spiraling after a mop of retreating orange hair down Aisle 7. “Can’t! Sorry! I’ll pay for this later!”
“I’m sorry?!”
“Hold that thought!”
The sound of static and muffled voices crackled behind you as the manager called for backup, but you didn’t care. This would all be over once the little coral pipsqueak was in your grasp; you’d make sure to make him sing everything that was going on.
“LEE FELIIIIIX!”
Somewhere on the opposite side Felix squealed, either running into something or barricading another path to ensure his freedom. You slid to another halt, straining your ears to pick up on the sound.
Maybe you could sneak up on him. You were getting pretty tired, and running all over the store wasn’t a very good strategy for either side. Tiptoeing down Aisle 6, buttons and sewing equipment, you held your breath, carefully peering down both directions of the aisle.
Empty, minus a mom and her kid. You dropped down on all fours, crawling to the next aisle-- except--
“Ow!” you hissed, pricking yourself on something sharp. It was a discarded sewing needle.
It gave you an idea. After sucking on the injury a moment, you snagged the discarded object, pinning it to the side of your bag.
You hopped to your feet and gathered the strongest thread and yarn you could. After diving into a pile of fabrics when a few security guards walked by, you got back to work setting up your ingenious idea. A little thread here. Some fabric there. A weight right here…
You quickly sewed (loosely) a few strips of fabric together, finally finishing your creation. “Sorry, this aisle is closed right now,” you said to a few customers, spreading slime over each end of the hall. It was showtime. “I’m ready,” you told F/n, uttering the words through your phone.
F/n had done well to keep their disguise as an oddly-put Santa, peering through their binoculars when no one was looking. “Okay. I sort of lost him after the cops started lurking by here. Let’s see…”
Another curse left your lips. “He didn’t leave, did he?”
“No, I didn’t hear the doors open or close. He’s gotta still be here somewhere…..aha!” Their cry made you jump. “Found him!”
“Where?!”
“Opposite side. Aisle 18. He’s hiding around the picture frames.”
“Dang it,” you groaned, “I need him over here!” You looked around hesitantly. “Can you get him over to this side? I’m on Aisle 7. Additional Sewing and Craft Supplies. Fabrics, yarn, etc.”
“I’m scared to leave my post, but…” F/n sighed. “...I guess if you have a plan, I can chase him that way.”
“Great, okay. Hurry.”
“Roger.”
You hung up, taking another deep breath. Waiting. Ducking when the cops circled back around.
Suddenly, you heard a familiar battle cry from the other side of the store, followed by a man’s scream. The security guards and management started racing that way, but by the time they’d get there the source would be long gone…
Because he was headed straight for your trap. You scaled to the top of the aisle, keeping low with a blanket of fabric over your head as you watched Lee Felix weave in and out of craft stands and passing customers, buzzing toward Aisle 7 like a bee to a honey hive.
“RwARGH!” F/n cried, their Santa disguise flying with a full-powered shove. Felix went plunging for the nearest aisle, your aisle, and the moment his sneakers hit Elmer’s Color Slime Kit, he slipped, spinning out of control right into the giant DIY net you created. Yes! Score!
“HIYAH!” You screamed, jumping off the aisle shelf and tackling him. Gave over. You’d won.
Felix squirmed and fought with all the strength he had left in him, his abs, his arms, his quads, but alas, twice his body weight from you and your friend combined was more than enough to stop him. He gave out with a long sigh just as an employee rounded the corner, crying for assistance.
You were out of time. Tying his hands behind his back and bundling the rest of the fabric around him, your friend threw a couple twenties from their pocket at the young man before the two of you slipped out the emergency exit.
“You’re going to tell us everything!” You demanded, carrying his torso. Felix scowled, rolling his eyes. Despite his obvious anger, he was sweating bullets and looked rather afraid.
“I’m not telling you anything. You made me drop my stuff.”
“You can go back for it later. F/n, open the door.”
F/n shook their head, placing your captive’s feet down and unlocking the back of their car. “Nuh-uh. He’s riding back here.”
“In the trunk?!” The boy cried.
“In the trunk.”
F/n was dead serious. You stifled a laugh, even if it was kind of mean. Felix whined and bowed his head as the two of you placed him inside, F/n smacking a bow on his head that’d stuck to them during the chase.
“Okay. Let’s get out of here.”
The two of you slammed the door shut.
-〤〤〤-
The moment light hit your captive’s eyes, he squinted, groaning from the bumpy ride (as F/n insisted on hitting every speed bump and pothole). Lifting the boy on the count of three, he made sure to cry out for help- “HAN!!! HYUNJIN!!! JEONGIN!!! I’M OVER HERE!!!”- but, as it was expected, F/n simply dropped the boy on the driveway and threatened to stomp over a...delicate area...before smirking at his wide-eyed response and stuffing the bow in his mouth.
“Um, F/n…” You muttered, hoisting your prize up the porch steps, “don’t you think maybe you’re being too-”
“Don’t,” they warned, casting you a glare. “I’m not being too anything. These jerks deserve way worse.” They shifted Felix’s weight in order to allow you room to open the door. “Besides, it’s not like we’re gonna torture him or anything. Just ask a few questions.”
Felix gave a sigh of relief.
“...We can figure out what to do with him after that.”
...He took a sharp breath, beginning to sweat.
Inside the house the two of you tossed Felix onto the couch, running around the lower level to gather equipment before shifting him to a dining room chair. You were adjusting his bindings when the phone rang, F/n scampering off to answer it after sharing a look.
They smirked at the familiar caller I.D. “Y/n and F/n residence,” S/he answered in an overly-pleasant tone. “How may I help you?” Quickly they pulled the phone away, placing it down on speaker. The two of you, and Felix, glared at the voice coming out from the other side.
“We know you have him,” Han’s voice echoed throughout the living room. He sounded serious, demanding almost, sending a shiver down your spine. That was new. “What do you want?”
“Oh, what do we want?” F/n asked. They scoffed, peering out the blinds on the opposite side of the fireplace, just next to the kitchen. Directly at Han’s estate. “That’s something you don’t hear everyday.”
Han huffed, sounding disgusted. Suddenly, Felix erupted, spitting out the bow you’d forgotten to secure. “HAN! HAN I’M OKAY!!! BUT I LOST THE STUFF AT--”
Frantically you pounced, stuffing a fistful of Kleenex in his mouth. A chorus of anxious whispers filled the other line from Jisung and his goons, before Han silenced them and got back to business.
“Felix, if you can hear me, it’s okay. I need you to take one for the team right now until I come up with something.”
Ironically and unneeded, Felix nodded, as if Han could see him. You and F/n rolled your eyes.
Suddenly, a loud splat! sent them squealing backwards.
Your jaw dropped, watching rotten egg dribble and creep down your immaculately-just-cleaned window. Felix chuckled, falling on a sour note after you elbowed him. When two more assaults hit, you ducked for unnecessary cover behind Felix, F/n plastering themselves against the fireplace.
“What do we do?!” you whispered, cringing every time an egg bomb made contact with the glass. What if by some crazy law of nature those things actually broke the window and leaked into the house?! It could take days to get the smell out. Heck, given that it was right next to the fireplace, and you had yet to test the installation of the seams...it’d likely start leaking into the house within the coming hours.
The pelts were slowly getting louder, rising in a horrifically drawn-out crescendo. “GIVE HIM BACK! GIVE HIM BACK!” you heard the goons chanting.
Were they on the roof?! You couldn’t bear this much longer. Your house was being eggified. Sullied. Disgraced. Finally cracking under the pressure, you flew some hand signals F/n’s direction that didn’t really mean anything and army-crawled to a yet-to-be-ambushed window, examining the battle situation outside before rolling back to your feet and sprinting for a backroom.
“Where are you going?!” F/n whispered harshly. S/he and Han bantered back and forth a bit, his demands of Felix’s release rattling the warfront before you returned with exactly what you’d been looking for: a megaphone. Ah, camp counselor days.
F/n saw what you were doing and instantly, wildly, vehemently shook their head no. But you were taking matters into your own hands now.
“Han Jisung,” you stated, loudly enough so your voice could travel over the massive egg-pelting outside. “Hold your fire and I’ll bring Felix outside.”
You waited a few seconds, and the firing stopped. Han’s voice practically purred over the speaker. Very disgusting. “You’re starting to see things my way. That’s good.”
“Oh yes. I’m most certainly starting to see things your way.” The phone lifted between your fingers. “We’ll meet on the roofs in five minutes. If I hear or see one more egg on my property, the meeting is off.”
“......” There was an uncomfortable silence on the other line.
You tilted your head. “Han Jisung? No deal?”
Felix whined a few feet behind you. Han sighed, clearly hearing it. “...Fine. We’ll meet you there.” Click.
You tossed the phone to F/n, who scarcely caught it, juggling it a few times on nervous butterfingers. “Alright, look,” s/he said, pacing across the room and slamming it down on the receiver. “I don’t know what kind of cockameme scheme you have planned, but…”
You smiled. “Don’t worry. I know what I’m doing.”
They sighed exasperatingly. “I’m sure you told yourself that when you let him into the house earlier, too.”
“......” You faltered, crossing your arms. “Touche. But this time, I really know what I’m doing.” With the utmost confidence and summoned strength you tilted Felix’s chair back, causing him to panic. “C’mon. Help me get this up through the attic.”
-〤〤〤-
Glitter glue. Hair dye. A bucket.
Truth be told, you actually did manage to go back and secure Felix’s belongings. It was around some point during the creation of the gigantic net at Hobby Lobby: F/n had seen them while running around, snagged it, and stashed the goods in the car without telling you.
Now, you were going to use them against the enemy. If only you knew what the wrench from Home Depot was for… “Okay, listen up,” you stated, standing proudly on your roof. F/n stood at your side, Felix in between you two, still strapped to the dining room chair. Though the Kleenex were now gone, his pie hole remained shut...with Puffs. Not the good brand, F/n had said. “We have your friend, and as you can clearly see, he’s fine. We haven’t done anything to him.”
“Yet,” Hyunjin sneered, standing atop Han’s roof. He crossed his arms at Han’s right, Fox-face (Jeongin) on the left. “I fail to see how tying him up and stuffing his mouth shut equates to not doing anything.”
“Hyunjin, enough big words,” Han moaned. “We get it, you’re good at Scrabble, and you should have won. Lay off already.”
Hyunjin growled, making a face. From the opposing roof, you lowered your mic, extending your hand left. F/n glanced sideways, placing the box of hair dye in your hand. The situation on the other side swiftly grew stiff, everyone’s eyes watching you expectantly.
“Y-Y/n...what are you doing?”
It came out as more of a statement than a question. A fretful smirk played on the corner of your lips. “Oh my, what am I doing? …”
Yours fingers got right to work tearing open the packaging. Felix turned his head as far as his binding would let him, his eyes widening and brows sinking beneath his coral-colored bangs the moment he recognized the object...and the word permanent etched within a warning sign. “Mmm! Mm-mm mmm! MMM!”
“Wait, Y/n,” F/n said, reaching out. They suddenly looked hesitant, unsure. “We never questioned him first. Shouldn’t we…”
You paused, tossing the box and plastic wrap over your shoulder. With any luck, it’d blow into Han Jisung’s yard; if not, you could just pick it up later. “What, now you’re getting cold feet?” You huffed. “You’re the one that was getting carried away before. I thought you were sick of all this crap.”
“I am...I am. I’m just saying, maybe we should have pressed him for answers before running up here.”
“After they started egging our house?! What, was I supposed to wait for toilet paper to fly through the trees and spray paint to stain our front door?!”
“No, I’m just saying—”
“I’m done talking!” Your eyes narrowed, focusing on Han’s. He was staring right back at you, an intense look residing. “I want revenge. I want action. This ends today.”
You popped the cap off the bottle of murky green liquid, Hyunjin and Jeongin both seeming to lose their posture as the cap flipped through the air, bouncing to the ground below. They started to squirm, much to your delight; though perhaps a little overdramatic; but it was about time the other side felt the same pain and turmoil you had. It’d been far too long an unjust imbalance.
But Han held his hands at peace, calming his soldiers and taking a step forward; sending the imbalance back where it was, in his favor. He cupped his hands around that loud mouth of his. “Y/n!!! Listen to me, you don’t wanna do this! ...I-I don’t think, anyway!”
He seemed nervous. Flustered. You actually had Han Jisung, Hellion of 117 Maple Street, in a nervous fluster.
The moment was sweet, rich, decadent and savory. In the air, a cool breeze blew by.
“I’m sorry? What was that?” You lifted the bottle over Felix’s head. His whole body tensed, slightly leaning away like a magnet that didn’t attract.
Han bit his lip, gaze flitting between your hand and the boy below. Behind him, Hyunjin and Jeongin watched with battered breath, biting their nails and covering the lower half of their faces. Han sighed, suddenly waving his hand behind him. “Jeongin, you shouldn’t see this. Cover your eyes. I don’t know if I can stop her.”
The boy frowned, shakily turning from Han’s voice back to you. “I-I can’t, Han...it’s too horrible, but I can’t look away.”
“Then get back inside. I’m sure Y/n will at least allow that much.”
Raising his brow at you in question, you carefully gave a single nod, watching the young fox-face go. Jeongin had never done anything to you, except for maybe participate in the egg-throwing debacle eight minutes ago. Otherwise, as far as you could tell, he was clean, just a bystander in Han’s antics.
As the roof door shut above Jeongin’s head, F/n gave you a worried look. “Y/n…” s/he said, turning to you sideways. “...Something’s not—”
“Shhh!” You spat. Your hand holding the bottle teetered towards a horizontal slant. “Not now. This makes things easier. One less groupie to worry about.”
“But Y/n—”
Felix could practically sense your movements, starting to squeal. “HAN! Please! I have an interview tomorrow and I don’t think they allow unnatural hair!!!”
F/n grunted, crossing their arms at being ignored. You listed your head to match the angle of the bottle. Revenge was so sweet. “Well, Han?”
It felt like an eternity went by. Everything was still, calm, the only noise to be heard the rustling of the trees. A distant clicking that was probably just the other neighbor’s cat. You felt like you were in a Shonen anime, where the characters face off for episodes at a time with nothing but empty heated stares and uselessly repeated banter (usually flashbacks).
“......” Han Jisung swallowed. “Okay, Y/n, stop.” He sighed. “...You win.”
A heaviness released from your chest. You...won? That was it? Was he really just surrendering right now? No surprise counterattack? No negotiations?
Instead, Han Jisung and his last remaining sidekick glared pitifully in your direction, like all hope had fleeted from their grasp. Meaning…
You won. You actually won...
The biggest smile took over the lower half of your face, so happy you could have cheered, overjoyedly so, kissing your friend’s cheek. You squealed in delight, tossing the bottle in the air and not really caring where it landed, so excited, so stoked, so—
“Ow!” a young man’s voice said.
Gasp. What was that?! That didn’t sound like Felix or...your friend...that was...wasn’t...
“Y/n!!!”
You whirled around, just in time to see Jeongin standing at the height of your roof, stuffing your friend down the ladder. He paused, similar to how Felix had in Hobby Lobby; that deer in the headlights look; and with terrified effort kicked F/n down the attic, hopping in and letting the door drop after him.
Laughter could be heard bellowing along the wind, a hurricane billowing your direction. You whirled around, flabbergasted, horrified to see Han Jisung with that coy smirk on his face, that evil glint in his eye, the long-legged Hyunjin doing a memey sort of dance, as the two of them laughing it up at your expense. Even Felix, still bound to the chair, was…
...Well, actually, he looked rather annoyed and a little pissed. “HEY!” he griped, stamping his feet. “What happened to releasing me first?! I thought that was part of the plan!”
Plan…? ……
“You mean…” You glared expressionless. “This was all setup...from the beginning? Even Hobby Lobby?”
“Duh,” Hyunjin piped, giving you an incredulous look. “We saw you and F/n heading that way, so I called Felix while Han coached Jeongin on the art of...sneaking onto other's property. We knew the two of you were probably at your breaking point, given how you were screaming all the way down the street…” He shrugged. “We figured you’d try to retaliate. It was too good to pass up.”
“......”
Anger wasn’t enough anymore. You were downright enraged, seething...and also, a bit heartbroken. A lot heartbroken. It was all planned. Your revenge was just another part of their game. They anticipated it, adjusted to it, even arranged it. It was all for not...and, what’s more…
Now they had F/n. The Fox-faced demon would be scampering out of your house and into the devil’s layer at any minute.
But he’d made a fatal mistake. You still had one of their own in your grasp.
With the utmost vexation and irritability you screamed, grabbing the bottle of hair dye from where it got caught between two shilling panels and tore the whole lid off, dumping the entire bottle into Felix’s hair. Han and Hyunjin froze in the middle of their victorious dance ritual to watch in horror as Felix screeched, trying to shake the substance out and make any feeble attempt he could to get away. You ripped open the glitter glue next, aiming it right at his scalp.
“Give F/n back right now or I’m adding glitter. Lots of it.”
“......”
Han Jisung and Hwang Hyunjin just continued to stare at you dumbfounded. Because they didn’t respond, you emptied the entire container, not caring if it seeped into the boy’s eyes as you dropped everything else for the attic door.
“OH SH*T! MY EYES! MY FACE! YOU GUYS SUCK! AHH—”
The roof latch clicked behind you.
Flying down the ladder and around the hall you ran with all your might for the front door. Surprisingly enough, however, Jeongin was having a tough time getting there himself, wrestling with F/n for a position that allowed him to keep them quiet while having the freedom to move quickly. Unfortunately for him, F/n wasn’t going down without a fight.
“Let...go…! Get…off…...ahh! Y/n!!!”
They were wrestling at the end of the hall, just above the stairs. You pushed yourself harder, faster, ready to pulverize this kid you once found cute and adorable.
Something was off, though. You noticed as you got closer. The way they fought— it was almost too carefully, like they were trying to avoid hitting something.
You found out too little too late. F/n’s eyes widened.
“Y/n, no, look out—!”
Fwoosh!
Your foot tripped over a wire, and the three of you went tumbling upwards.
You couldn’t believe you fell for the same trick twice.
-〤〤〤-
“Hold still,” Hyunjin groaned, clawing at Felix’s bindings. The boy practically refused, squirming with all his might.
“I’m holding still! I can’t see!”
“What does that have to do with being still?!”
Felix fumed.
Han Jisung made his way to the top of the ladder, rolling onto his back to catch his breath. It wasn’t like he wanted to drive Y/n to do this. Rather, he was just having a little fun, passing time, and essentially, getting to know her.
She was the girl he thought about spending quite a bit of his life with, after all.
He turned his head sideways, taking in the view of the mountains, the small forestry area, the big city on the other side. Dang it, he knew Y/n’s roof had a better view of the area. “Both of you...quit whining...for a sec…”
He fought to catch his breath. Normally he thought himself to be in pretty good shape, but maybe eating a whole cheesecake and slacking off last week for that Netflix marathon put him back a few steps. Diagonally above him, Hyunjin sighed, removing the last of Felix’s restraints. “Okay, there. You’re free now.”
Felix stood, immediately rubbing his shirt over his face and stretching his arms out wide, then his legs. He looked around.
“Something wrong?” Hyun asked. Felix began to sweat, visible from a mile away.
“Oh, gosh, you guys. I still can’t see. I think I’m legally blonde.”
“......” Hyunjin blinked. “You mean legally blind? Legally Blonde is a movie.” He glanced up at his sparkling dishwater-green hair. “Also, your hair’s green now. An ugly green. And shiny. Too shiny—”
“Both of you shhh,” Han griped, sitting up sideways. He pushed himself up all the way, stumbling diagonally as he hiked up toward the other side of the roof. “Has Jeongin come out yet? Where’s Y/n?”
“I don’t know,” Felix spoke, swatting at his surroundings. “I can’t see anything.”
“He obviously wasn’t talking to you,” Hyunjin piped. He leaned over the edge, examining the front porch, then the lawn. “...I don’t know either. I didn’t hear the front door but, then again, I couldn’t hear anything with Whines-A-Lot back here blubbering so loud.”
“Why are you in such a bad mood today? Normally you’re really sweet and chill. And why is everyone attacking me all of a sudden?! I’m the one that agreed to be the bait of this operation! Me!”
“Okay, okay,” Han waved his hands. He really hated being the responsible one, but with these two at each other's throats and Jeongin nowhere to be found, he really had no other choice. “Felix, go inside and see if you can find Jeongin. Or Y/n. Anyone.”
Felix scoffed, throwing his hands in the air like a tossed salad. “Oh, yeah. Send the blind guy in. That plan always works. Makes total sense!”
“Oh, right...uhh, Hyunjin?”
Hyunjin scrunched up his face. “No way. I’m not going in there. Breaking and entering is not going on my personal record. Pranks are fine, but I’m not violating the law. That’s your department, Mr. Fifteen-Unpaid-Speeding-Tickets.”
“......” Groaning, Han made his way to the top of the roof, kneeling just short of the peak to pull the lever. However, the door wouldn’t budge. “...It’s locked.”
“Locked?”
“Yeah, that’s what I said. Locked.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Shoot, why would she stop to lock the door? Now wh—”
“HAN JISUNG!!!”
All three college boys froze. Crouching, they whipped their heads around wildly. Even Felix. “What was that?!” He asked. “Was that Y/n?!”
“HAN!!!” Another called. Smaller, lighter, yet contradictingly more masculine. Hyunjin gasped.
“That sounded like Jeongin!”
Then, suddenly, all three missing voices meshed together, the chorus dark and booming: “LET US OUT! LET US OUT LET US OUT LET US OUT!!!”
Hyunjin jumped to his feet, kicking and pounding at the door. “Quick, open the door! We have to rescue Jeongin!”
Han’s jaw fell a little. “What about Y/n?”
“What about her?!” He grunted, hitting the door harder. “Jeongin is our first priority!”
“I thought you didn’t like breaking and entering,” Felix sneered from the back, still waving at the air like a recently-blind person would. His elder tsked, scowling.
“It’s not breaking and entering if someone’s life is in danger! Han, what the hell kind of trap did you put in there?!”
Han blinked, trying to process. Everything had gone South so quickly, curved in a direction he wasn’t expecting— he couldn’t think. His mind drew up blanks. Never in his thirteen years of pranking history had he ever not been in control of his own crafty work.
Now his work was playing a joke on him. “Han! Hello?! Earth to Jisung?”
“...I…”
“What did you do in there?!”
“......” He swallowed, barely regaining his composure. “I set up another net. Just a quick one, like the one from earlier today.”
“What?!” Hyunjin roared. “But that took me all morning! How did you do it in five minutes?!”
“I didn’t,” he replied. “I did it in four.”
Hyunjin deadpanned, smacking a hand over his face. “‘Kay…how did you manage to pull that off?”
His superior in the art of mischief fell back on his behind, staring out seamlessly at nothing in particular. Obnoxiously calm for the circumstances. “I’ve been sneaking into her house every now and then when she left the back door open. I’d set up a small part here, or a spring wire there, just small stuff out of the way that no one’d notice. They’ve hardly been home with midterms going around.”
“......” Hyunjin shook his head in disbelief. “Han, there’s no way they wouldn’t notice or not accidentally set something like that off until now.”
Han turned back to him in earnest. “I just set the final wire down this afternoon. The activation one. One of them— probably Y/n— tripped over it.”
“...If that’s true, then…”
Another sonorous from down below reached the canopies above: “LET US OUT!!!”
Hyunjin dropped back on all fours. “LET US IN!!!” he cried, pounding on the hardwood door. “Jeongin, buddy, it’s going to be oka—”
“Come on!” Han said, leaping to his feet. He grabbed Felix by the wrist, tugging the two along behind him before making a crash landing for the bushes. No time to waste now. He needed to get his act together, take a leap of faith that, maybe, if he played his cards right, Y/n could see him in a whole new light.
It would be a long shot. If he remembered to jump from the right spot, anyway. “AAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!” Both boys screamed, clinging to each other’s sides. They hit the shrubs, bouncing forward and rolling into Y/n’s front yard.
“...Was that a trampoline???” Felix asked. Han scoffed, shoving the two off of him.
“I planted an emergency escape device in her bushes last week, just in case.” He dusted himself off, screwing his head on straight while jogging to the front porch. “What do I look like, stupid or something?”
“......” Hyunjin watched him cross to the front door, lying upside down. “Do you want us to answer that?”
“...No.”
Han rang the doorbell. Stamped his foot. Remembered all house guests and tenants were currently tied up at the moment, slapped himself, panicked. He banged his fist against the door.
“Y/n?! It’s okay! Daddy’s going to fix this!”
Hyunjin made a noise (he was full of noises), tromping up the steps while Felix rolled himself around in the yard, trying to figure out which way was up and what he should do with himself. “Did you just call yourself—”
“Yes, now shut up.” Han dug around in his pocket, pulling out a key. “Heh heh heh…”
He jimmied the lock, twisting and turning the key this way and that. But the door wouldn’t budge, not even an inch.
“Sh*t!” He grabbed his hair. “Why isn’t this working?! I made copies of her keys three weeks ago!”
Hyunjin glared sideways. “You changed out her locks two weeks ago.”
Shoot, that was right. Han kicked the door, fuming. “Dang it! ...Ow!”
He was spent. Gone. Energy depleting. And now, his foot hurt. Spinning around he banged his head against the door, sliding down to sulk on his backside.
He hadn’t meant for things to go awry. He’d just wanted to mess with Y/n, see what made her tick, have some fun. Find out what she liked, what she didn’t like, maybe get up the nerve to ask her what she was doing for dinner next Saturday so he could mess with the food at her favorite restaurant and force her to come to a candle-lit dinner in his backyard instead, where he’d have her second-favorite takeout waiting on plates of gold he’d “borrowed” from Hyunjin’s aunt.
If only things would have worked out that way. “LET US OUT LET US OUT LET US OUT!!!” the house called.
Hyun and Han shared a pitiful look, plastering themselves to the walls and door. They had no choice. There was nothing left. “LET US IN LET US IN LET US IN!!!”
“HAN JISU— …”
Quiet. That was strange. What was it quiet?! What happened?! What could have—
...Oh no. What if…!
“DON’T HURT JEONGIN!” Han screamed, pressing his nose to the glass. “PLEASE! Y/N F/N PLEASE HYUNJIN WILL KILL ME IF SOMETHING HAPPENS TO HIM!!!”
“WHAT?!” Hyunjin yelled, pressing against the glass as well. “Move over, I can’t see! WHAT ARE YOU FIENDISH PEOPLE DOING TO HIM?!”
There was no response. Han began sweating profusely, feeling his heart ready to burst in a bad way. This was it. It was over. He’d have to call the cops to have them released, and then Han would probably go to jail for twenty-seven misdemeanors and a couple felony charges. Not to mention those unpaid speeding tickets.
Chink. Clunk. Creek.
A force against him gave way, the front door magically opening. As Han and Hyunjin fell forward, a blind, sparkling, green-haired man smiled down at them, standing at the other side.
-〤〤〤-
The clamouring coming from your front door set you on edge, wiggling and slashing at the ties that bound you. And F/n. And Jeongin.
The three of you piled on top of each other in an awkward heap, you being fortunate enough to have flipped on top. “Ow! Y/n, get your foot out of my eye!” F/n cried.
Apologetically, you shifted your weight, trying to give them room in the small net. Jeongin huffed as you did, making the most cumberous and uncomfortable face as you shifted your bottom over his backside, close to his head. “This is your fault for sneaking in here and trying to kidnap F/n,” you scolded, only feeling a little sorry given the circumstances.
He blushed, perplexingly so, carefully trying to claw his way to a corner that didn’t exist. “I, um...I’m sorry…”
Like that was enough to get the three of you out of this arrangement. Rolling your eyes, you focused your attention on the front door you could just barely see, tuning your ears to adjust and pick up on anything.
“What are they saying?” F/n asked. You shrugged, huffing and puffing disorderly.
“I don’t know. I can barely hear anything. They’re whispering. They keep looking over here, though.”
“Who opened the door?! How did they get in here???”
F/n was currently squished with their head facing the opposite direction, explaining their heighted insecurity and naggingness. You sighed, squinting and rocking your weight in order to make the small flexible cage sway to better see around the corner. “I think...Felix let them in. He must have used the back door or something.”
“Son of a b*tch, Y/n!!!” F/n quietly fumed. “This is why I always tell you to make sure both doors are locked! You never think to check the back door and it drives me crazy!!!”
“HAN!!!” Jeongin suddenly screamed. “FELIX! GET ME OUT OF THIS THING!!!”
Both you and F/n panicked. “SHHHHHHHH!!!”
He regarded the two of you like you were crazy. “Just five minutes ago you were screaming too!”
F/n hissed. “Yeah, well that was five minutes ago, and this is now!”
Jeongin sighed. “Listen, this is really uncomfortable for me, especially because you’re sitting...entirely too close to me,” he spoke, “so how about I make a deal with you two?”
“No way. I don’t make deals with demons. Or vipers, or monsters, or Fox-faced devils that sneak into our house and try to kidnap me!!!”
Jeongin sighed again, letting out a slight hiss of annoyance at the end. At the base of the stairs, Han and Hyunjin started making their ascent, Felix stumbling around a bit with a bandana now over his eyes before following after them.
“Oh shoot,” you whispered. “Here they come.”
Making his way around the net once, Han paused right square before you; and there it was, that evil flirtatious wink, tongue sweeping over his lips scarcely so. “S’up, gorgeous?”
Shoot me. I want to die.
Han poked your nose, making a little annoying sound effect and laughing when you teetered backwards, swatting away at the germs he left on your face. “Aww, I think someone doesn’t like their situation very much.”
“Lay off. Get us out of this stupid thing and then get the hell out. If you don’t, I’m calling the cops.”
Han chuckled and slapped his leg like you were just the cutest little thing to him. “Oh, alright, calm down princess. You’re just sour over falling for the same trick twice.”
It burned you how much truth there was to those words. You would have spit at him if F/n wasn’t at risk of being in the line of fire. “Just shut up and get us out of here. Take your friend with you.”
Tangled up behind you, Jeongin sputtered; you could feel him roll his eyes. “Gladly,” he muttered.
After admiring your pissed-off look for a few seconds, and Han taking a few selfies for his own selfish gain, Han and Hyunjin got right to work, snipping wires here, tugging at rope there. Eventually, after a few moments of unblissful trepidation and embarrassment, the net lowered gently, falling lifelessly about a foot above ground.
The three of you groaned, F/n having the wind knocked out of them for a second. Scampering and shoving off of each other, you turned away the moment you found your legs, brushing yourself off and walking down the hall a few paces. Your feet prickled with numbness, then faded and blood rushed through.
When you turned around to check on F/n and kick everyone else out, Han Jisung had already found his way to your face. “Hey there, gorgeous. All better?”
You scowled most irately, placing your hands on his chest to push him off and startling yourself when he wouldn’t budge, and your hands just...stayed there. “Get out of here. You got us out, now you’re no longer welcome.”
“Oh, was that all you needed from me?” He smiled. Almost tenderly. Or maybe it was, you didn’t know. “I’m hurt, Y/n. I thought maybe we could...talk more. Get to know one another.”
“What?!” You tried to see around him, but he mirrored your every step and movement. When you pulled your hands away, he latched onto your wrists, placing them back. His fingers smoothed over the backs of your hands, intertwining with yours. You gulped, a feeling in your gut exploding.
“This is nice,” he said softly, giving your hands a gentle squeeze. “Isn’t it?”
It most certainly was not nice. Not nice at all! ...Yet, you were having quite a bit of trouble telling him that. His hands were so soft and...rigid...even the small calluses that sprouted along his palms and outline were somehow oddly alluring, inviting you to stay.
You shivered, bristling all over. No, no. Get ahold of yourself Y/n. This can’t happen. I can’t go down like this.
Shaking your head you shoved yourself back instead, running two steps to the right...and slamming gently into the adjacent wall. Gently. Softly. Softly slamming.
What the hell, why was everything with Han Jisung so soft all of a sudden?! You bore your eyes up at him, seeing as he was now just...inches away from you...again...g-getting closer…
His nose brushed right up against yours. A breath caught in your throat, begging to scream. Everything else in your body was. He had slithered himself to press up against you.
You’re pretty sure, even if you couldn’t feel it, your face was the darkest shade of red right now. Han undoubtedly noticed too, simpering just a fraction from your lips. “What should we do now, princess? Should we…” He inched your waist forward. “...go next door?”
Next door. Next door, where the hellhole of disasters had started.
...Something about that line just didn’t sit right with you. Feeling as if the whole moment had been ruined (and good gravy you had to get out of this), you shimmied yourself a bit of wiggle room and shot your knee skyward, wincing as a howl of pain rang out in your ear. You kicked Han back, making a run for F/n…
...Who was again, gone. Everyone was gone.
Turning around, Han gave you a childish salute, that flirtatious wink following him all the way out the front door. You couldn’t do anything. Just observe him leave in shock.
Until you heard a thump from downstairs, and raced to find Felix feeling his way around the kitchen.
“Now, I know there’s a backdoor somewhere...it was in here when I came in…”
You bore your eyes into him. Smirked.
Five minutes later, his whines echoed all through the house and down the porch steps.
-〤〤〤-
It may not have been high noon, but that didn’t stop Hyunjin and Fox-face Jeongin from turning on an old western showdown score.
You stood on your side of the property line, Felix rebound though now standing at your side. If he was miffed about his hair and the overzealous glitter drawing attention to it, he didn’t say anything. Possibly because being temporarily blind was pulling all his attention away.
On the other side, about ten or twelve meters from the line, stood Han Jisung, in all his hellion, dark-profiled glory. F/n was bound and gagged beside him, looking like a tick about to pop. You’d never seen that vein before, throbbing above their forehead. Hyunjin and Jeongin observed from afar, amongst the safety of shade and porch railing.
You lifted the megaphone you’d brought back with you from the roof. “On the count of three,” you instructed, gripping Felix’s sleeve tight.
Han Jisung cackled, or his eyes did anyway, a sparkle of humor at play. “Alright. Hostage exchange on three.”
“Okay…”
You both paced exactly twenty-something steps until you were only two feet from the line.
“One…”
“Two…”
“...Thre—”
“Wait.”
Your mind did a little flip, attention spiraling upward. “What?”
The hellion next door smirked. “I have one condition.”
“Oh?” You sputtered. “So do I.”
“Ladies first.”
You deadpanned. “Stop intervening and disturbing my life and F/n’s sanity and I won’t call the cops.”
He laughed, a very hearty, joyful sound. It sort of...made your heart spin. “That’s fair. I can agree to those terms...if you agree to mine.” You scoffed.
“And what would that be?”
Han Jisung smiled. Brighter than the sun. For once, it was almost as if he was revealing a side of his persona to you he’d kept locked away all this time; he suddenly appeared to be genuine, sincere, and oh-so benevolent. Not to mention handsome. “Go on a date with me. Saturday, at five.”
“What?!”
The world came to a crash. Everything just seemed to stop, the birds even dropping like flies to gawk at the enigma that was Han Jisung. Behind him and to the left, Jeongin and Hyunjin stared at each other in bewilderment. Felix muttered some kind of disbelief beneath his breath. F/n looked like s/he really would pop.
“Mmm?!” They shrieked. Han chuckled, ruffling his hair away from his face and casting squinted eyes out over the neighborhood.
“Yeah, uh...I’ll pick you up at five, if you like. I mean, you have to, because this is a condition. My deal. Where we’re going is a surprise, but I can give you a hint.” He leaned forward, twitching his nose a bit. “There’s a lot of action going on in the color department, and it usually gives me an allergy attack. But, I figured you may enjoy watching my face fall apart.”
“.........”
Slowly, you adjusted your gaze over to F/n. They were shaking their head wildly, though limitedly, so as not to tip off anyone.
“.........” You turned your face back to Han Jisung. “...Make it five-thirty. I have an errand to run that day.”
He bit his lower lip to keep from smiling too much. “Deal. Okay, on three. One…”
“Two…”
“Three.”
You each pushed your captives over at the same time, Felix and F/n stumbling forward over the property line. Hyunjin and Jeongin raced down into the lawn while you quickly got to work untying and freeing your housemate.
S/he turned and looked to you with the utmost confusion and disappointment in their eyes. You smiled, sadly, and turning away watched as three of the four boys embraced and spat at each other, Hyunjin and Jeongin poking and teasing Felix about his hair, and Han Jisung watching you back with stars in his eyes. Once a hellion, it was as if a great fog had lifted over the valley, and now you could see he was both day and night. A myriad of sunlight, and a mischievous moon.
“You’re not really going on a date with him,” F/n scolded, walking in sync with you up the porch steps and in through the front door. You waited until they were safely inside and halfway to the kitchen for another drink, waving and even winking in Han Jisung’s direction. It caught him off guard, and you snickered at his confused stare.
“We’ll see,” is all you said, shutting the door behind you.
-〤〤〤-
Saturday, 5:25 p.m.
Your house mysteriously felt like the Island of the Lost.
“F/n! Have you seen my hairbrush?!”
Running back and forth in front of the TV, up and down the stairs, rummaging through both bathrooms, F/n sighed, annoyed at having their early-evening talk show interrupted. They set the TV on mute. “What are you looking for? Your hairbrush?”
You nodded, heading back towards the upstairs bath. F/n jumped up from a commercial break, following you.
“How did you manage to lose your hairbrush? Sheesh, Y/n, you’ve been forgetful all day.”
You turned toward the mirror, staring worrisome eyes at the curlers in your hair, the sloppily-applied two minute makeup job on your face. F/n noticed as well, giving a small pout as s/he crossed their arms, leaning against the doorframe. “Where are you going, anyway?”
Uh-oh. “Hmm...?”
You pretended not to hear that. F/n blinked, their face falling to an unimpressed state. “I asked, where are you going?”
“......”
“......”
Downstairs, the doorbell rang. Crap. It wasn’t five-thirty yet!
F/n turned toward the sound, their brows lifting in minor surprise. “Who could that be? Are you expecting a package or anything?”
They began wandering in the direction of the staircase, but you cringed, throwing yourself as a blockade. “Ahahahahahahaha! …” Sweat. “...I-I’ll get it. You should get back to your show!”
F/n gasped, pushing past you and gracefully making a sharp left just a few feet from the door. Phew.
You peered around the corner, trying to make out the silhouette through the foggy glass.
Tall-ish. A bit on the short side. Skinny? Seemingly masculine.
It had to be him. Panic struck you like a bat out of hell, scrambling to the bathroom and ripping the curlers out of your hair. You fought through three bottles of creams and mascara while juggling your toothbrush hanging out of your mouth, rinsing, spitting, and finally flipping your hair down, shaking it loose and flipping back over.
Oh yeah. Messy-chic look. Perfect. With a touch of gloss (or lipstick) you smoothed out your casual-dressy outfit before skipping downstairs and slipping on your favorite dress shoes at the door, purse slung over your bodice.
This was it. You discreetly shifted your eyes to the left. F/n was still inthralld in their talk show. Now was your chance for a clean getaway without any awkward accusations or encounters.
Taking a deep, measured breath, you gingerly opened the door, blowing it out on the exhale. Han Jisung stood in all his new-lighted glory, his back turned to you as he examined the neighborhood, waiting.
You gave a small cough, stepping out and locking up behind you. Han turned around, his eyes widening when he saw you. “Whoa...uh…”
“Yes?” Your gaze traveled down to the flowers in his hand. “Are those for me, or an apology to F/n?”
You both laughed, Han thrusting them forward a bit forcefully. An awkward color painted a ring around his face, across his ears and along the curves of his cheeks. “Uh, b-both, I guess. ...But, mainly for you.”
He was nervous. For real this time. You smiled, taking the small bouquet and burying your face into the petals. You inhaled deeply. “...Mmm...they smell really nice!”
You beamed. For maybe five seconds. After that, a spout of water soaked your forehead.
Han Jisung pressed his lips together, trying his darndest not to laugh. His eyes avoided you entirely, observing everything but your face. A moment later, he bolted, signalling for his groupies to turn on the sprinklers. Coffee rained down on both of your lawns, dyeing both sides murky Vanilla Latte.
You chased him down the porch steps, through the caffeinated shower, laughing.
-〤〤〤-
“...And that about wraps up our show for today!”
F/n flipped the TV off, turning their gaze to the window. Is it raining already?
As they approached the window, their jaw fell. They opened the window. “Y/N!!! HAN JISUNG!!!”
...It was no use.
Pulling up a chair, they fell to their knees, observing the bizarre weather in a moment of acceptance. They extended their mug over the windowsill, sighing as the caffeinated shower refilled their morning latte.
Genre: fluff, crack, comedy, college au, secret admirer/stalker au
Pairing: Seo Changbin x fem!reader
Word Count: 4.7k
A/n: Masterlist(s) linked down below and in bio!!! | Requested by @hanniiesuckle17 <3
— ✔✘✔✘ —
Darkness fell like a cloud over the room, a hazy mist where Changbin found the most comfort. It was a place where he felt calm, collected, cool, and accepted.
It was also the place he resided to watch Y/n L/n. The cute new transfer student from out of town.
Now, he didn’t think what he was doing was creepy. Or weird. Or immature. Not by any means; he was simply keeping an eye on her to make sure she was safe; the library could be a dangerous place, and there were all sorts of sick and twisted weirdos running around at this late hour of six p.m. that purposely targeted nice foreign girls like Y/n. He’d seen it happen all the time. It was more common than he’d like to admit. Which is why it was up to him to keep an eye out for her, since Chan was working late (again) at the studio and the mighty Lord knew Han Jisung wasn’t gonna do jack squat, especially not after Hyunjin had to go mentioning the grand opening of some new restaurant called...Factory Cheesecake? Cake Factory? Something like that.
That only left himself to rely upon. The only one truly trustworthy and qualified to keep Y/n safe. Even if it meant having to—
“Changbin!”
Clank. “OW!”
Rubbing his now slightly swollen forehead, he turned around the cramped space to peer over his shoulder. “What is it? What are you doing up here?”
Felix bowed his head, an apology hanging in the air. “Sorry. Seungmin sent me to get you. He said he’s clocking out in five minutes and he doesn’t want to get in trouble for your…“deed.”” He blinked. “He used other words I’d rather not repeat, though.”
Changbin scratched his chin. Ah, yes. The perks of having a roommate that worked part-time at the campus library: free access anywhere, so long as they’re on duty. And you don’t get caught. Like that one time he and Han scoured the back storage room for vaults holding the answer key to Mr. Kim’s final, and...well, that wasn’t important now. “Tell him I’ll be down in ten. I think she’s almost done.”
Felix glanced through the slits of the metal air duct, then back at his buddy. “...Are you sure you’ve really thought this through all the way?” His face scrunched up in an awkwardly distasteful matter, and he looked away, as if he couldn’t bear to commit such a crime. Like what he was doing was even criminal. “Why don’t you just talk to her? Instead of...y’know…” He blinked, gesturing to the cramped space around them. “Hiding in the air duct? It’s kinda creepy, is what I’m saying. And unethical...actually, very creepy and very unethi—“
“Okay! I got it already!” Changbin waved his hands. He didn’t need to hear this from someone he cared about. “Shoo, shoo! Go have dinner with Hyunjin and the bottomless cake pit.”
“You mean Han?”
“Duh.”
...Sighing, Felix left without another word.
Finally—
“...I really think you should just talk to her!” His voice echoed. Changbin sighed.
...Okay, a few words. “Go!!!”
His harsh command bounced around the narrow chamber, spiraling down out of the air duct. Gasp. He covered his mouth, praying to heaven no one heard him; peering down, the study corner Y/n was in— if not the library itself— was nearly vacant, with only one other student reading at a far table and a few stragglers making their final choices.
It would appear his voice had gone unnoticed. Phew.
Y/n was still standing at the same shelf. She’d been standing there for over twenty minutes, occasionally pacing back and forth a few steps, side-to-side, trying to make up her mind. Most guys hated that, but Changbin couldn’t help but find it cute and endearing; like a lost little star trying to find her way home, calculating the best route, hesitant, waiting to shine. Most guys took it as a lacking sign to confidence, but to Changbin, it just showed that she was smart. She didn’t want to barrel straight ahead; she gathered data, took notes, and made the best option that would satisfy both her needs and her interests. And to Changbin, there was nothing hotter than that...
Suddenly, her hand moved. The one with the leather watch she wore, rumored to be a gift from her father. It was worn and frayed, the inseam splitting at the ends. Brown; tan. A simple clock face encased in basic sterling silver. She wore it everyday, but it’d been a while since he’d seen the pleated pink skirt that swayed above her ankles, or the matching floral-printed scarf—
Her hand brushed against the spine of a worn old poetry catalogue. Oh no. This is it. She’s really going for it. His letter…
She was so close to finding it. Twice a week, Changbin would rush down seven flights of stairs and across five blocks of campus property to make it to the library an hour before Y/n was set to arrive, as she always visited the library after English 1302 on Mondays and Wednesdays. Something about departing from that class must have left her longing for more, he figured; she was a writing major, after all. He didn’t do well under too much pressure, so after panicking about what he was going to say this time, he’d steal borrow some of Seungmin’s fancy calligraphy paper in order to write her a poem, something soft and...what was that word he’d looked up last week...lilting, which he was pretty sure meant the same thing as uplifting and...happy. Then he’d have Seungmin (one time Han; big mistake) hack into her leasing record in order to find out which books she was currently into, or which ones she had on hold. He’d carefully and strategically place the handwritten poem inside the book’s first few pages.
The book was in her hands now. She’d chosen his book! Again! She was examining the cover...flipping it over…...now, she was…?
...She put it back.
Again. He lowered his head with a sigh. Game over. You lost again. He gripped his hands into fists; when? When would he learn? When would it be his turn to win?! …!
Oh? What was this…?
A figure turned the left corner too fast, crashing into Y/n. She stumbled to the right, dropping said book as well as her belongings and sending them somersaulting to the pale blue carpet.
The letter he’d tucked between pages four and five spiraled out a foot away. Unopened, still sealed securely in a crisp white envelope with a Molang sticker. He’d heard she liked him.
Some Shady Guy was now talking to Y/n. “I’m so sorry! Let me help you— I’ll get—”
Y/n picked the book off the ground, dusting and checking it for damages like her first priority. She was so selfless, caring more for a damaged old tomb rather than her shiny new laptop and fancy water bottle. “Oh, no, that’s okay, don’t worry about it…”
Her eyes fell upon the letter. Changbin held his breath. Oh no. Not now. Not with some punk watching! The moment would be totally ruined!!!
Shady Guy beat her to it, his undeserving fingers tainting Changbin’s craft. “Here. Is this yours?” He examined it. Smirked. Disgusting. “Cute. Aren’t you a little old for cartoons, though?”
Who here gave you permission to judge her?! ...Wait.
Y/n took the letter, frowning. “I don’t think so...Molang is for girls and boys of all ages. He’s cute. But, this isn’t mine…someone must have left it as a bookmark.” Her eyes swept the room. “I’ll go return it to the front desk.”
The… The front…
His face hardened. What?! No!!! That’s your letter! URGH!!! Were girls always this frustrating?! ...And why is this guy still standing so close?! … …
It couldn’t be helped; with defeat, he watched the two of them walk away.
— ✔✘✔✘ —
The next day at lunch, Minho squinted at him in anger.
“I can’t believe you skipped out on dinner with us again to go stalk the new girl.”
Beside him, Hyunjin huffed his agreement over a juice box that was meant for a five year old. Changbin groaned. “It’s not stalking. You make it sound like I’m a pervert or something...I’m not, I’m just…”
...His voice trailed off into a long, steady exhale. Beside him, Seungmin rolled his eyes. “Next time, at least quit using the air vent. I’m tired of growing a collection of ulcers in my gut because I’m afraid you’re going to make one wrong move and come crashing down through the ceiling like doom over Narnia, and then we’re both going to get in trouble for it.” He practically slammed down his bowl of soba. “I need this job, Bin.”
Across the outdoor picnic table, Minho froze halfway through unwrapping his sandwich, Hyunjin nearly choking on his orange juice. The former of the two cast a chilling glare while Hyunjin fought through a coughing fit. “You…”
Crap. And just when he’d thought Seungmin would be the least likely to open his big mouth. Changbin pressed his lips into a hard line before speaking. “...It’s not what you think—”
“Isn’t it, though?!” Hyunjin blurted. His juice box went flying into the nearest trash can as he pointed drastically in the direction of the library a few blocks down. Dance majors. “You’re telling me you’ve been bailing on dinner with us at the best new restaurant in town to go crawl through the dusty library airways and spy on a girl who doesn’t even know you?!”
“Say it a little louder, why don’t you!” Changbin hissed. “And hey,” he added, leaning over his ramen. “We’ve talked before. We’re in the same writing class.”
“Over a project!” The Dance major roared. “That hardly counts!”
He and Changbin both fell back into their seats with a thud, exhausted with each other. Minho sighed. “Well,” he mumbled, “I guess we’re just going to have to show him.”
At this, everyone gave Seoul University’s one and only Bundle Boy a quizzical look. “What do you mean?” Seungmin asked.
Bundle Boy smiled, already stacking his leftovers. “Come on. Finish eating already and we’ll show you.”
Hyunjin blinked, gesturing back and forth between the two of them. “We…?”
Smack. “Just do it already. Let’s go. Quickly.”
Stunned, he had no choice but to inhale his soup on the way over.
— ✔✘✔✘ —
The library was ironically closed for renovations that day; something about a generous donation from some well-to-do politician wanting his name engraved along the school walls. Whatever.
After bribing Seungmin into using his key, in the very same room where Y/n had been pondering her next private adventure surfing amongst old worn pages, Minho placed his hands on his hips, taking the roll of stage director. “Okay, now.” He pointed left. “Hyunjin, you go backstage. Pick a book off the shelf and get yourself ready. You two,” he piped, startling the remaining cast members, “will sit over there. Watch how it’s done.”
“......” Side-eyeing the other, Changbin and Seungmin took their seats at a nearby study table. The former could tell the latter was regretting his decision to let them in already.
Minho smiled. “Great,” he said, taking what was supposed to be Center Stage. “Now—”
Seungmin raised his hand. The director sighed.
“Yes?”
Seungmin lowered his hand with a soft plop. “Do I really have to be here for this? Don’t we all have better things to be doing right now?”
...It was a fair question. But Minho didn’t really seem to care much for fairness. “Yes, this is a team effort. I’m telling Chan you said that at our next rehearsal.”
The boy groaned.
“Now,” Director Bundle began. “Watch and learn how the pros do this. I’ll be Changbin, and Hyunjin is Y/n.” He turned his head to the side. “Cue!!!”
The lights suddenly dimmed, shocking the audience as they looked around curiously. “I could have sworn no one was on staff today,” Minnie mumbled.
Then the lights rose again, slowly in escalation, as a far-too-tall and far-too-muscular Y/n entered Stage Right. His eyes blinked wildly from atop the horizon of an encyclopedia about frogs. “Look,” he cooed, voice far too high and squeaky. Changbin and Seungmin both cringed. “I’m Y/n! I love books and boys and all the many girlish wonders that girls like me enjoy! Teehee!”
...Dear Lord, strike him now. Changbin rose from his seat. “Stop!!!”
His cry fell on deaf ears as the show went on, Minho turning and giving his best, dreamiest, disgustingly playboy-ish smile. “You’re Y/n?”
Hyunjin giggled (to which Changbin felt sick), the book never leaving the lower half of his face. “That’s me!”
“Changbin” (Minho) cocked his head aside, shifting his bangs to the right. Seungmin gagged. “That’s a cute name. A cute name for an even cuter gi—”
Fzzt! ...The power went out.
From the far corner, the real Changbin glared a storm across the room, holding the power extension cord too tightly. “That’s enough,” he grumbled, tossing the extension aside. “I didn’t come here for you to mock me. Or her. I’m not sure what I’m more angry about: the fact that you dare mock an innocent girl, someone I care about, to my face...or the fact that the two of you are supposed to be my friends.”
Hyunjin tossed his book on the table, doing his best sassy Dance major pose: a hand on his hip, knee slightly bent, head tilted to the side. Dance majors. “You can’t say you care about her, Changbin. You hardly know her.”
“I told you we’ve spoken on more than one occasion!”
“Over a project! That doesn’t count!”
“You said it hardly counts before!!”
“Yeah?! Well now I’m changing my answer!!!”
“Okay, okay…” Seungmin rose from his seat, wading between the two. “That’s enough. Fighting never solves anything.” He peered over his shoulder, focusing his gaze between the shelves. “Also, you need to keep your voices down— I’m not losing my job over something this dumb.”
“......” With a grunt, Changbin marched his way toward the exit; Screw these guys, whatever. He didn’t need their help and never asked for it anyway. He was doing just fine in his relationship with Y/n that...didn’t quite exist…
He’d almost made it to the door until Hyunjin stopped him. The should-have-been Drama major’s long fingers curved harshly over Changbin’s bulky shoulder.
“...Just face it, Bin,” he whispered. “Y/n...she’s one of those girls. A bookworm. She’s out there. Way out there.” He sighed. The whole room seemed to. “Girls like her live on another planet. You’ll be pushing up daisies before she agrees to go on a date with you.”
“......”
Changbin scoffed, carrying his storm out of the room.
— ✔✘✔✘ —
At 2:46 a.m that night (morning?), Changbin lied awake in his dorm room, pondering many things. Too many things that shouldn’t have had any connection whatsoever, yet did all the same. Because life was messy, and love was fornot.
What is it with girls? He thought. I’ve never put so much thought into one before. They were just...there, and then Y/n showed up, and suddenly it’s like I forgot how to read. I saw her smiling, looking all pretty by the lecture hall window...I know I’ve written a song about her before.
Shift. The gray wall facing him gave no comfort.
...And what about them? Hyunjin, Minho, Seungmin...criticizing and judging me like that… Hyunjin… He had no right to say that to me. “You’ll be pushing up daisies before she agrees to go on a date with you!1!1!” ...Pfft. Please. What does he know?! Who does he think he is giving me advice? About Y/n?? After his horrible misrepresentation of her?!? ...Man, I miss Jeongin. I wonder when he’ll be back from his field trip...
Toss. The ceiling was no help either.
Then again… Is it really that strange? I was just keeping an eye on her. She should be grateful, right? Who doesn’t like having protection throughout the day? … …
Sigh. ...Maybe… Maybe it is kinda weird what I’ve been doing...how I’ve been acting...my behavior… … …
Turn. The ticking of the far clock mocked him. All his lost hours of sleep...tormented by his own thoughts...
… … …
“...Hnnn!”
Shift. Toss. Sigh. Turn. Watching the seconds pass him by Changbin rolled about in agony, puzzled and tried over the last few weeks. Perhaps, as Hyunjin had said, even before his most recent insult, Changbin’s behavior as of late really had been “ugh.” …
A pillow fell over his face. He didn’t know what to think anymore. Maybe, as ridiculous as it all was, Minho and Hyunjin had been onto something; maybe all he needed to do was introduce himself. Start fresh, simple, anew. Maybe, this whole time, all he needed was to treat Y/n like a person he was interested in, rather than a science experiment he had to guard from afar. Maybe, just maybe, all he needed to do was say “hello”...
Unfortunately for him, “hello” was currently the word he was most afraid of.
“Changbin…”
He rolled over, peering down at the lower bunk; what could he say, except, Music and Photography majors didn’t make that much? At least not as undergrads. “Hm?”
Seungmin squinted up at him with sleepy eyes. “Turn off the light. I have two exams tomorrow…”
Shoot. Changbin grimaced, reaching for the switch. “...Sorry.”
Chink. Lights out.
“...Changbin?”
Chink. Lights on. “Yes?”
“......” Seungmin sat up, trailing his drowsy behind to the guest couch on the other side of the 12 x 10 room, the one Chan or Han sometimes crashed on during late nights producing or editing soundtracks. He pulled a blanket over his head, curling up beneath it like a puppy. “...Do you wanna talk about yesterday?”
Changbin scoffed, shifting his gaze to glare anywhere else. “...Like I’d wanna spend my precious time talking about those two.”
“So it is bothering you.”
Changbin fell silent.
“...The fact that you’re awake right now tells me that you’re letting them get to you. You shouldn’t.”
“I’m not! I never said they were bothering me!”
“It’s what you didn’t say that tells me otherwise.”
Changbin huffed. “Don’t you have an exam tomorrow?”
“I have two, actually,” the boy answered. “One at eight and one at nine.”
“Then go to bed. Quit worrying about me and mind your own business. Class starts in a few hours.”
Chink. Lights out.
...But though he rolled over, pulling the sheets above his head and facing the gray wall, the annoying brat missing from the lower bunk didn’t move. In fact, Changbin could feel his eyes burning a rash on his skin, spelling out the words, you’re lying; accept your feelings. Talk to me.
Chink! He swung back up into a sitting position.
“Okay, fine! Sheesh…” he groaned. Below, Seungmin almost bounced in delight, were he not engaged in a battle of fending off certain unconsciousness.
“Great...tell me what’s troubling you.”
“...That’s…”
Good grief. That was far easier said than done. He’d become so defensive, the automatic response to escape Changbin’s lips were always, “That’s none of your business,” “It’s none of your concern,” “Quit asking me about it.”
Now, here he was, at confession hours. He adjusted himself, the words swirling in his gut; hissing at the proposal of facing sunlight, wishing to remain buried. “...I just…” He began picking at the fabric around his legs. “...I don’t feel like myself lately. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m so tired… Everything was fine until Y/n came here. Now…” He breathed. “...It’s like I can’t do anything properly anymore, and I’m not myself at all. I lost myself the moment I walked into class, and she was standing there, smiling under the sunshine and fluorescent lighting. ...Argh, listen to me! I never said crap like this before she came! It sounds so stupid!”
Seungmin continued to listen, patiently, as Changbin spilled his thoughts. Every waking thought he’d had since a few Monday’s ago. He nodded his head...starting to sway…
“...And it’s like, I’m saying all these words I’ve never even heard of before, y’know? You’ve noticed it too, right? Like my vocabulary is proliferating. It’s a nightmare! But...what really scares me is…”
He paused. On the couch, Seungmin fell over, beginning to snore softly.
“...I don’t like the person that I’ve become. I heard it said before that when you fall in love, or some garbage like that, you’re supposed to...become a better person? That learning from that person is supposed to help you mature? … All I’ve learned to do is become...some creepy stalker. I never saw myself becoming like this, not for a minute, but with her it’s like...I totally…”
“...Zzzk!” Seungmin sat up. “...Hm? What? ...Oh, uh…” He rubbed his eyes. “I heard you, I swear I did. Hang on…” He yawned, squinting upward. “...You’re not learning from her.”
Changbin turned toward the couch. “What?”
Seungmin adjusted himself, working at removing a year’s worth of sleep in his eyes. “You haven’t been following her example. You’ve been letting your unchecked emotions run all over you. It’s an act of immaturity and being insecure. Also, what you said before is only true if you and the other person are both mature, and share an intimate relationship. You don’t. And you’re not mature.”
To this, Changbin opened his mouth to give back some witty reply he’d stored in his new-found vocabulary somewhere, but of course, the boy dozed off, getting away with the last word like he usually did.
Pssh. Even his internal clock is in sync with his antics. Spoiled brat. That sure was a lot of words for three a.m...
… … …
He let those words reside with him. “You haven’t been following her example. You’ve been letting your unchecked emotions run all over you. It’s an act of immaturity and being insecure.”
… … …
“Also, what you said before is only true if you and the other person are both mature, and share an intimate relationship. You don’t. And you’re not mature.”
… … …
...Bah! He hated it. Hated hearing it, the way it sounded out loud, directed at him.
But perhaps it was a bitter truth he had to overcome.
“Tomorrow, you can always start anew.” ...That was a lyric from one of his favorite songs, from a rapper he admired all too well. Perhaps...maybe…
Tomorrow, I too, can start anew. … …
...Reaching over, he turned out the light.
— ✔✘✔✘ —
The next day was Wednesday. The climax of every week. Shouts of “hUMP DAYYYY!!!” could be heard echoing around campus corridors, with students and faculty scurrying this way and that, some walking with direction and purpose, a few jogging, and others moving to a slow, leisurely pace, just getting out of class or having nowhere in particular to be.
For Changbin, it was a day of change. When the sun rose, after ignoring it for a few extra hours in defiance toward the clock that mocked him, he got dressed, ate a waffle, brushed his teeth, and combed his hair with his fingers as he hustled out the door.
“Hey!” Chan greeted him outside the door. “Ready for—”
“Busy,” he called over his shoulder.
English 1302 wasn’t until 3 p.m., but seeing as it was currently noon and he only had three hours to set himself straight, well...setting yourself straight was a daunting task. He’d need all the time he could get. Ignoring the fact that Chan and Han followed him out of the dorms and down two blocks while muttering precariously puzzling things, he set his focus solely on his current destination.
“I’m here,” he announced, slamming his bag on the front desk. Behind the library counter, Seungmin sighed, tilting his head back.
“I’m not letting you into the air vents anymore. I told you, I’m done.” He glanced at the clock behind him. “Aren’t you a little early? Your class hasn’t even started yet. I thought you’d still be sleeping.”
“Can’t. No time.” Reaching into his bag, he pulled out his English textbook, the one with a soda stain he’d have to pay for later thanks to Yours Truly (Han Jisung). Seungmin observed it curiously.
“What’s this?”
“My textbook.”
“...We don’t have stain remover. Try the laundry room.”
Changbin rolled his eyes, biting his lip. Don’t let pride get to you right now. “...I uh…” He cleared his throat. “...It’s not that. I want you to help me study. I’d like to have something to fall back on, when talking to Y/n. In case things fall flat.”
When he looked up, the expression on Seungmin’s face was that of a thousand suns. Like the skies had cleared, and the war was over. It looked like something Shakespeare or Dr. Seuss would write about. “At last,” he said, “the drought has ended. Seeds have sprouted. There really is a brain in there.”
Changbin swatted at him. “Just shut up and tell me when your next break is.”
— ✔✘✔✘ —
“Y/n?”
Her name came rolling out of Changbin’s mouth like a stone. It started light, yet gained velocity and fell into the pool of sweat at his feet with a heavy thud.
The moment she turned around, sitting up a little straighter, a little taller, looking him right in the eyes, his mind went blank. “Yeah! What’s up?”
… … …
He had no idea what was up. What was up? What was down? Which way was it to the nearest train station so he could use the last of his tuition money to board a train and haul it all the way to the highest bridge so he could— …
Cool, Changbin. Play it cool. The sun has risen, so you’re Mature Bin now. “Uhh…”
“......” She listed her head. “Yeah?”
“......”
“......”
“...Cake!” he blurted.
She blinked, shifting herself back while the surrounding pews started. “I’m sorry?”
“Ahh…!” Changbin adjusted himself. Took a deep breath.
Still cool. Roll with it.
“......” He smiled. “...Cake, uh...there’s a new cake shop that opened downtown.” He pointed...somewhere towards the door. “I was wondering if...maybe you’d...like some?”
The kindness that radiated off her features made his heart soar. “Are you asking me to come with you?”
“......” He nodded, looking away. But from the corner of his eye, he could still see her smile.
“Okay! I’d love to. Say, after class?”
He nodded again, more fervently. “...But aren’t you going to the library after this?”
Her gaze turned a bit sour and peculiar. “You...know about that? You must have seen me before.”
Having walked in right on cue at 2:59, Hyunjin made an irate sound that wasn’t unusual of a sassy Dance major such as himself. Dance majors. “Oh, he’s seen you, alright. He—”
The nearest pencil went flying towards his head, marking his pretty boy face.
“Ahh! Seriously?!” He rummaged through his bag. “I have practice after this!”
Having turned away before, Y/n examined both men curiously before clearing her desk space for class. “Well, it can’t be helped. I do spend a lot of time there, so you were bound to pick up on it subconsciously, I’m sure.”
“Yes. That’s exactly it.”
He and Hyunjin shared a glare.
She giggled, shaking her head. “Alright then! How about this: we’ll stop by the library, and then we can go to the cake shop from there. Sound good?”
He grinned from ear to ear; blissfully, simply, politely. But most importantly: in control. “Yeah, sounds good. Oh, and Y/n?”
The clock struck three, the professor walking in right on cue. As his voice took hold of the classroom atmosphere, the two lowered their heads, voices tumbling into whispers. “Yeah?” she asked. “What is it?”
“Shall I compare thee to a warm summer’s day? Or, perhaps, to...uh…”
He tapped the tip of his pen against his chin. On the floor somewhere diagonally behind him, Han divided up the pizza while Minho begrudgingly rose to pay, seeing as Han “accidentally” tripped and dropped the bill on his lap.
“...Oh!” He smiled, scribbling as fast as his hand would allow. “...to...a...flower…uh...of Spring! Done!”
Gathering his day’s work atop his desk, Felix beamed proudly at the words he’d managed to weave together. Tapping them twice to file, he spun his chair around, waiting for everyone’s attention.
“Minho’ll be back in a sec,” Han said between a mouthful of cheese and pepperoni. “He’s paying the delivery guy downstairs.”
Miffed footsteps could be heard rising up along the walls before, lo and behold, the devil himself arrived. He focused vexed eyes on Han. “This is the last time I’m paying for you. You owe me twenty bucks.”
“Okay.”
“On top of the two-hundred and seventy-five you already owe me.”
“...O-Oh...haha…” He smiled cheesily. “I see you’ve been keeping track.”
Minho deadpanned. “And I can see you’ll be needing floss after this.” He turned to Felix, tucking himself comfortably down into a beanbag chair Felix normally used for gaming nights. “Go ahead, Felix.”
He nodded; this was it. The words he’d spent all day putting together. They had to work, just had to. If they didn’t, well…
Han and Minho thought he’d just be failing English 101. But, really, he’d be failing himself; his chance of winning over the heart of someone very dear to him...an enigma named Y/n L/n.
“Ahem,” He started, mentally preparing himself. He had to treat this moment like the real thing. He had to channel his inner charisma and be as witty and charming as possible, but also rugged and manly...because that’s what girls liked, right? Yet, also, it was important that he was still true to himself...since that was hopefully the person you’d be falling in love with…
“...Is...that it?” Han asked, brows raised. He turned to Minho curiously. “Yo, this reminds me of that one SpongeBob episode where--”
“Quiet, loud mouth,” Minho rolled his eyes. “He just got spacey again, give him a chance.”
“...Ahem,” Felix began again. His eyes scanned the papers before him nervously, palms starting to sweat, words slightly blurring.
“A-And summer’s lease hath all too short a date,
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
Thou art more lovely and more temperate:
Shall I compare thee to a...warm...summer’s day?
Or perhaps to a flower of spring?”
Lowering the pages, he took a deep breath before smiling as big and...what he was hoping would be happy and gentlemanly as possible.
On the other side of the room, Minho and Han both blinked. Han coughed. “...That...was… ...you wanna take this one, Minho?”
Minho sighed. “Felix…” He tried to smile politely, Felix could tell. But it just wasn’t...there. “Felix, I know you’ve been working on that all day, and you’ve been at this project for three days now. So I’m sure you’re exhausted, and I don’t want you to be too disappointed when I tell you that was just Shakespeare’s Sonnet Eighteen read backwards...and then, something you added to the end. Hey,” He suddenly brightened, giving him an air-nudge. “That last part was original! You can start again with that after, eh…” He listed his head. “...Tomorrow. Definitely tomorrow. You’re gonna make yourself sick like Hyunjin trying to pull off Mrs. Kang’s finale.”
Han paused halfway to starting his third slice. “...Since when do you know anything about English and...nice...words?”
Minho scoffed. “It’s called poetry, genius,” he rebuked, pouring himself a soda from the liters hidden in Felix’s closet. “I just got finished with her class last semester. I had to study so hard that it all just...stuck with me, I guess. Hyunjin and I would have failed if not for Seungmin and Chan’s help.” He cast his gaze back to Felix with a genuine smile. “Don’t worry too much about it. It’s not you, it’s her.”
Han rolled his eyes. “How many girls have you told that t-- oof!”
Minho held another pillow at the ready. “I’m talking about Mrs. Kang, and the assignment!” he hissed, dropping the weapon. “Anyway...here.” he said, handing his untouched plate to the homeowner. “Take a break. Eat a lot.”
“I’ve got a poem for you,” Han piped, recovered. Minho rolled his eyes for the umpteenth time, shaking his head. “Are you ready?”
Felix nodded.
“Okay! Roses are red, violets are blue--”
Minho snorted, glaring over his slice of food. “You’re a moron, and we hate you?”
“NO,” Han blurted, “...” He turned precariously to Felix. “You should have taken Home Ec with me, I told you to.”
Minho groaned. Felix, on the other hand, bowed his head, taking the last slice. The smallest. His first.
“...Perhaps you’re right.”
~ ❀❀❀~
That night, Felix dreamed of a girl who loved poetry, books, words, and the unfathomable. He dreamed of a girl whose dying wish it was to obtain a molecular understanding of the world, one who was not of the world, but was in it. He dreamed of beautiful things, of cherry blossoms dancing in the April breeze along a mountain stream, of a colorful forest in late fall, of a warm cottage home in Winter. Many seasons passed him by, all of which came converging to a single point…
And the possibilities manifested in themselves. They combined together, forming you. A girl with (h/c) hair and sweet (e/c) eyes.
Felix awoke from his dream with a jolt. He was warm, skin humming, thoughts circling round and around and around…
The clock on the wall read two a.m.. Normally, he’d be up gaming at this hour, not jolting awake from a melodiously, affable, jovial-embedded--
...Gasp. Did he just...were those words...from him? Did he think of them all on his own? They just seemed to...come to him. They came to him when he thought about you; your smile, your laugh, how the birds seemed to sing and the flowers swayed to and fro, as if euphorically spinning and twirling to the rhythm of his pining, beating heart…
Yes, he thought. It’s so...inelegant, and tasteless, but…
It was definitely a gift from you. A gift he would not let go to waste.
At 2:03 a.m., Felix sat down at his desk, pen and paper at the ready.
The inertia that pushes your car forward makes your head spin. Like being on a roller coaster that stops all too quickly.
“What was that?” Your friend asks, turning around. “Did you just hit the brakes hard?”
Your eyes travel up to peer through the rear view mirror. “No…” you speculate, watching as the shadow of a tall, 20-something year old boy steps out onto the curbside. Your vision narrows. “Some punk just hit me.”
It was just after midnight. Your friend Daewon’s birthday was today, and to surprise him you and your other friend Junyong made plans the previous afternoon to throw him an all-day surprise party, along with the rest of their rookie college music group, Noir. Your town’s local Dunkin’ Donuts was just a hop, skip, and a jump down the road from campus, and being a Tuesday night with a new semester just around the corner, you weren’t expecting anyone to be out, especially at this hour. Even so, there were plenty of better places to go for partying than...a local 24/7 donut shop.
Which is why you were baffled to find the rival enemy, Han Jisung of the infamous 3Racha and Co., quarreling before your newly-imprinted bumper.
"Han I told you for the last time that's the accelerator! Dang it, I should have listened to Chan and not let you drive—“
"How are we gonna tell this to Minho…it's his car..."
Han waves his hands peacefully before the crowd. “Okay, okay,” he states, looking back at the imprinted [car model]. “Everything’s fine, it was just accident so— sh*T WAIT I USED CHAN’S LICENSE!” He suddenly huffs, making an elaborate 180 in behavior to stamp his foot like an immature child. “You're the one that wanted donuts at 12 am!!!” He accuses, pointing to an orangish-blonde boy. Definitely a part of the squad, but not one of the 3Racha fiends.
Freckles huffs back. “Well EXCUSE ME FOR WANTING TO CELEBRATE NATIONAL DONUT DAY!!!”
"THAT'S NOT EVEN A REAL THING!” The one from the passenger’s side erupts; another groupie. “BOTH OF YOU SHUT UP!!!"
“Aaaah,” Han groans, palm on his forehead. “Okay, Seungmin’s right, we need to calm down. Like I said, everything is fi—“
“It’s not fine,” you cut in, glaring. Han jumps, seeing as you appeared to be a ghost behind the glow of taillights. “I’m pulling up over there.”
You point a couple parking spaces to the left of the drive-thru, and he nods, swallowing. A nervous glint about him. Ignoring your late-night drinks and dozen Boston Cremes, you pull up to the designated area, sighing as your head hits the steering wheel. Junyong pats your shoulder solemnly. “It’s okay. We’ll get through this. It’s just a fender-bender, so you don’t have to tell the insurance company— I’m sure he’ll agree,” he added, nodding behind him. He turned his head to glare out the back window. “...But seriously, who hits a car in a drive-thru? You’re supposed to inch forward, not ZOOM like Speedy Gonzales...”
Wasn’t that the truth... Shrugging, you open the door, preparing to rendezvous with the enemy. In all truth, in all honesty, you were annoyed at the notion; but the fact that it was Han Jisung, well, that made you livid.
He was, after all, the boy that had instigated war between the two groups; by stealing Seunghoon’s file, and writing his group’s name on it as the demo for their music final. He stole Noir’s song, and made it their own. And nobody stopped him.
“I’m so, so sorry…” he starts, walking up with your order. “Here’s your stuff…”
You take it from him stiffly, passing it to Junyong, who came running up beside you. Sensing the awkward tension, he dips back to the safety of the dented vehicle without a word, gulping his Matcha Latte down.
“Gimme your info,” you demand, wanting to keep this short. Han begins to sweat.
“Uuuh…” he nods, slowly, and juts a thumb over his right shoulder. “R-Right, lemme just—“
“Here,” one of his friend’s says, extending a piece of paper. He has brown hair and matching eyes, paired with a calm, logical aura. You’re pretty sure you heard Han call him Seungmin. “I wrote it all down for you. If it’s alright with you, we’d like to keep the insurance companies out of this situation, so...we’d be happy to pay for the damages out of pocket. We’re very sorry.”
“Hmph,” You scoff, snatching the paper. As genuine as he may seem, it’s probably a fake number, with a false address and a made-up company name. Some forged on-the-spot license numbers. You glout over the paper and nice handwriting.
“Something wrong? Did I forget anything?”
“Show me your license.”
Han flinches, Seungmin remaining very still. Their faces both harden into something frantic. “...Well...” Seungmin begins, “...about that…”
“You don’t have your license?” You frown. “You could be arrested for this, you know.”
Han chuckles nervously, scratching the back of his neck. “Ha-ha, yeah, I-I know—“
“Then why were you driving without it?” Your arms cross. “You should always have it on you, always. It’s careless to leave it at home, or in another car, or somewhere else...what are you laughing about?!” You holler, whipping over your shoulder.
Junyong covers his mouth, bowing his head so only his eyes peer over the hood. He takes an exaggeratedly loud sip of his Matcha Latte. “Nothing!” he shouts, “It’s just...” ...Sip. “...you kinda sound like his girlfriend or something, scolding him like that.”
“Huh?!”
“Oop!” He quickly ducks back into safety. You sigh, overly annoyed and done with it all.
...Zen, Y/n. Totally zen.
“...I’m...sorry,” you manage, biting the side of your tongue. Apologizing to the enemy should be treason! “This is just such a pain. But I understand it was an accident.” You look each of them in the eye. “Are you okay? No one was hurt, were they?”
Han opens his mouth to speak, but his buddy stops him, covering it in an odd fashion. “We’re fine,” he insists, smiling. “And, again, we’re so sorry about this.”
“...Right…” You rummage through the bag around your bodice, flipping out your mini planner and tearing off a page. “Here’s my information. You can call or text me about the damages tomorrow, er…” You smile, just a little. “Later this afternoon.”
“Yes!” Seungmin states, taking the paper and passing it to Han Jisung, Enemy No. 1. “We’ll definitely do that!”
You press your smile further, forcibly, politely. “Grea—”
Flash!
“OW!”
From Han’s...if you’re recalling correctly, “Minho’s” car...you see Freckles squint, hands raised to block the flash bombs going off behind you like the paparazzi just showed.
“WHO LEAVES THE FLASH ON?!?!” he cries, swatting at...the air. You spin around to scowl.
“Junyong! What are you doing?!”
“Don’t worry, Y/n!” Junyong howls. “I got pics of everyone involved, and both license plates! They can’t run now!!!”
“......” Well, the Matcha Latte was certainly kicking in. You would have thrown a donut, had one been available to you.
While being ushered off, Han continues to stare at the paper curiously. Then, as if struck by a realization of some sort, he looks up at you over his friend’s shoulder, smiling.
“I thought I recognized you! Y/n L/n, right?”
You blink, unenthused. “That’s what it says on the paper.”
Han just continues smiling. There’s some sort of sparkle in his eye that’s visible even in the blotched moonlight of storm season. It sends a shiver down your spine, even after you’ve closed and locked the car doors. “I’ll definitely call you!” He yells, waving. Like a couple of old friends reconnecting, excited to catch up over donuts and coffee.
But he was the enemy. Han Jisung had done something wrong, something cruel, something that had yet to be concluded that you weren’t sure you could ever forgive...so, then...
You start the car with a gentle whir of the engine, setting the gears into reverse. Hesitantly, you glance into the rearview mirror once more, watching him engage in harsh whispers and subtle push-and-shoves before getting in.
His face. His charisma. His profile...two months ago you’d sworn he was the enemy, yet...
...Why was it that you were just as excited?
- ♫ - ♫ - ♫ -
“Wasn’t that the girl that accused us of copyrighting her friend’s track? That was her, wasn’t it?” Felix asks. “...I hope she knows that was all just a misunderstanding…”
Climbing back into Minho’s stolen convertible, because Felix just had to have donuts for National Donut Day at 12 am, Seungmin heaves a sigh, running a sweating hand through his exhaust-riddled hair. Too close, honestly. The infamous Y/n, known for being the Campus Blizzard, could have had them fined, reported on campus, and Han behind bars. ...Yet for some reason, she didn’t.
...Must be in a good mood or something. A saving grace, if he did say so himself. “...Please tell me this was really an accident. You didn’t do this on purpose...right?”
The boy in the driver’s seat smiles...sheepishly. Pulling back up to the window to claim his goods, he places the tips of his ringed fingers together. Takes a breath.
“...If I say half yes and half no, will you be mad?”
A/n: Masterlist in bio, yeehaw! 🤠 | For Hunter 🧡 (@hanniiesuckle17)
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Han Jisung was a boy with stars in his eyes. He was a boy you’d come to admire for quite some time; even if he did have a tendency of occasionally running into glass doors and barely maintaining a 2.0 grade point average. He was still your first waking thought at sunrise, and your last coherent one at dusk.
And now...here, in this moment...
“...Is that it? Is that all I am to you? Just...an empty vessel? Someone to dump your emotions into when you don’t know where to turn? Heh,” you scoffed. “Well what about me, Jisung, what about my emotions?! What about MY feelings?!?”
The boy you thought you once knew turned away, a barren wasteland of his former self. The late afternoon sun accentuating the hidden highlights in naturally brown hair. “...What about them, Y/n? What about them? Since you like repeating words so much, I’ll ask you again...”
His eyes shifted onto yours like the changing tide.
“What about them?”
You were lost for words. You didn’t know what to say, what to think...and all because...all because...
...There was a boom mic blocking your vision.
“C U U U T!!!” An angry Director Lee Know roared. His voice was a growling sonorous from his cat-stickered megaphone. “Dang it, Hyunjin, I told you guys to knock it off!! What could be so funny this time?!”
Hyunjin and Felix, both stagehands and sound support, were (once again) kneeled over in hissing laughter from something or another they’d found amusing, causing the boom mic in Hyun’s grip to slip-n-slide...right into your face. You backed away from it, relaxing your posture as the set lights faded and the little red recording light gave out.
“I’m sorry,” Hyun wheezed, wiping tears from his eyes. “Seungmin keeps making faces, it’s not our fault!”
All eyes turned to Camera Man Minnie as an accusatory finger went his way, including the snapping of Director Lee's head, who whirled around faster than anyone, but...the boy merely raised his brows in innocent curiosity.
“Who, me?” he blinked. “I didn’t do anything. I’ve been paying attention to the camera this whole time.”
“Liar!!” Hyun and Felix called in unison, to which Minho reeled his head back to let out a groan of annoyance.
“Uuuuuugh, okay, whatever. Everyone take ten…I need a drink...”
As the set slowly dissipated, with Hyun and Felix chasing down Seungmin, the boy genius leaping over low-sitting equipment while managing to take poor Assistant Jeongin hostage, and Minho venturing off to the green room (tent) for that much-needed drink, you stretched out your arms and came to sit on one of the park benches not far off from the makeshift filming set. It was a lovely day in Brightwell Park, but sort of a shame; such a beautiful day to be filming such a heart wrenching scene between the crumbling relationship of your character and Han’s (whose names ironically were the same to each; courtesy of one meddling Bang Chan and Seo Changbin, who knew of your little crush and convinced Minho to alternate the names).
A short film for your theater final...who’s bright idea was this again? What happened to just taking an exam and putting on something Shakespeare...?!
“Hey,” said Han. Right in your ear.
Startled, you nearly fell backwards into the bushes, gripping the fabric of your sweater over your heart. How did he sneak up on you like that?!? You hadn’t even heard him sitting down...
The bench was barely big enough for Han Jisung and his spread out manner of sitting, and conservative old you, curled up on the edge. But Han didn’t seem to mind, and honestly, neither did you.
“Here, catch,” he said, and quickly you fumbled to keep a bottle of water from exploding onto the pavement. Han Jisung swung his down, the way he always did during Minho’s ten-minute anger-management breaks where he disappeared to collectively admire pictures of his cats over a bottle of something strong. He sighed afterward. “...You’re doing great out there, as usual. But one thing I noticed...”
Oh? “Yeah?”
“...” He smiled. “There it is again. That goofy gleam in your eyes.” He flicked a fallen cherry blossom petal from your hair. “You looked like you stepped out of an anime, but we’re filming a drama here.” He took another swing of agua, then connected his elbows to his knees. “So what’s the good news? Did you finally get that apartment? Or maybe a magical fairy came and zapped all your debt away? Did your letter from Hogwarts arrive?”
Something hot laced your cheeks, the reflection of a pink glow shimmering in the water bottle’s surface. A gentle breeze whistled by, carrying with it spring cherry blossoms and something sweeter, something warmer and brighter and more fuzzy-like.
It was the shifting of a new foundation; all week, you had been trying to muster up the courage to tell Han Jisung how you really felt, how you’d always felt, ever since that fateful day in August when he approached you on stage as both the best and worst Romeo Montague you’d ever seen. You swallowed your pride, the rapid pounding of your heart telling you the time was now, before that accursed Christopher and Changbin ruined everything by blabbing it themselves through their meddling antics.
“I—“
That was all you managed to get out. Rip. “Okay, everyone back to your stations!” Minho announced. “We’ve got twenty minutes ‘til the pizza gets here and five ‘til I lose my patience with anymore distractions.”
“Aw, relax!” Han called, waving him off as he sprang to his feet and hoisted you up too. He gave you that reassuring smile, the small soft one he reserved only for you, before nerve-wracking exams and over the fire’s hearth of marshmallow s’mores and late-night cram sessions. “C’mon, Miss Showstopper,” he winked. “Let’s finish this scene so we can eat, but try to look more heartbroken this time. You looked like my aunt when she found out her husband was gonna be gone on a business trip for a few weeks.”
Though he chuckled as he wandered off, back into the limelight of rolling cameras and goofy stagehands that did more playing than producing, you couldn’t help but smile— you just...couldn’t help it. For you may have lost one moment, but it would be one you could always come back to later, adding it to pages of unwritten script where your story and Han’s collided. There would be many more chances of impromptu, of moments to advance to the climax and savor the journey downhill, towards the final act.
You wanted to tell him, but there would be other days to come. As long as the camera kept rolling, the show would go on.
a/n: hi guys, senior year has literally been eating me alive but i’m back and this whole corona online learning has been giving me a bunch of free time to focus on writing again, so stay tuned for some longer fics and requests coming your way ! i’m sorry this took so long and i hope you enjoy !
you guys had been best friends since childhood and it felt only natural for the two of you to end up together.
you both had known each other when you were young children, and were the closest of friends until you had to move away because your father had gotten a job opportunity in another country.
of course you both did your best in order to keep in contact, but you both were so young and the difference in time zones didn’t really help, which caused the both of you to lose contact.
it wasn’t until a few years later did felix find himself in that country and did he find himself staring at the most gorgeous person that he has ever seen, did he realize that it was you.
and damn could he say that puberty hit you like a freight train.
it was pretty much love at first sight, and as soon as the two of you became best friends again—it was all over for him.
his confession was kind of sporadic and all over the place, and honestly kind of an accident.
the two of you were casually walking home from school, a little later than normal since you had attended a study session straight after school, and you were both just chatting about your day before he blurted those three words that made your heart race.
“i like you.”
and while he was completely embarrassed and mortified in the moment, he knew that he wouldn’t have it any other way.
spontaneous dates is a must with felix, his schedule is pretty unpredictable and whatever time he isn’t spending practicing, touring, or hanging out with his members, he’s with you.
he often shows up at your apartment late at night, and most of the time it’s kind of a struggle to try and sneak him in without waking up your parents.
movie dates !! the two of you enjoy snuggling underneath the covers watching the crappiest romantic comedies on netflix and eating a bunch of junk.
this night usually ends with late night talks, the two of you chatting about the most obscure things before ultimately falling asleep in each other’s arms.
“would you rather spend eternity in hell with me or in heaven without me?”
“lee felix, are you trying to flirt with me at 3:30 in the morning?”
“just answer the question babe!”
however, whenever he had a day off he made sure that he could take you out somewhere more romantic than just chilling in your bedroom.
this also included the fact that felix just loved to spoil you, and all of the time you would find the most random gifts placed around your apartment always attached with a loving note that read “this reminded me of you.”
the han river, fancy restaurant, picnics in the park—anywhere that you wanted to go he would always find a way to make it happen.
this boy is very clingy and whenever he couldn’t be with you in person he was constantly blowing up your phone with selfies of him or the other boys.
“make sure you tell changbin to keep his distance or i think i might get a bit jealous.”
“i promise, i only use him to cuddle when you’re not here, love,” felix laughs.
and when the two of you are together, you can bet that his hand never leaves your body.
whether it be holding your hand, the small of your back, linking your arms together, or wrapping one arm around your waist, this boy always needed to be touching you in some way.
this also meant that pda was a must, but it was often hard to hide this side of himself from the paparazzi who were eager to have any kind of bad press on him and the rest of stray kids.
it often got tiring trying to sneak around and hide his greatest happiness from stay and the rest of the world, but as much as he wished that he could show you off to everyone, he knew that it was unfair to the rest of stray kids.
instead, he made sure to shower you in affection away from the public eye, making sure that you understood that he adored you to the moon and back.
