i just want you and your beautiful soul: not accepting!
+ “you’re my best friend. i don’t think that i can just list three things that i love about you or find beautiful but if i really must…i find your handsome face really beautiful.” she says with a laugh. “even though i’m starting to think i see you way too often.”
+ “i think your patience in dealing with me is really admirable. like, you never get tired of coaxing me out of my workaholic ways and you don’t really mind spending time with someone as boring as me either. i don’t really know why but i’m thankful to you for it.”
+ “lastly, i think who you really is beautiful in it’s entirety. you’ve been by my side since we were kids and there’s really nothing i’d change about you. even if the whole world turns their back on you, you can always count on me, okay? let’s go for a long time!”
this is unprecedented trust. three words can have such a powerful effect when a secret needs to be hidden. adrian wasn’t meant to follow yixing with a question when the captain excused himself from the team round-up before the big game. it’s not uncommon for yixing to ‘forget’ something. it’s out of the ordinary for another to follow him and make sure he’s alright: he’s song yixing, and a co-captain, all unshakeable nerves and always sure of victory.
so when adrian sees him drinking a potion from a vial quickly shoved back in under his normal robes, yixing freezes at the question: what are you doing?
don’t tell anyone.
and adrian doesn’t, at least not for the entire game, and only at the end does yixing hold him back: “it’s not a stimulant, if that’s what you’re thinking. i wouldn’t cheat.”
adrian only raises a brow. it’s not a very convincing argument, even to the ears of the one trying to defend himself, as if there’s anything to defend himself from. yixing sighs, frowns, and rubs the bridge of his nose. the comforting weight of his glasses make his face seem empty. bare. too easy to read.
“it’s a calming potion,” he elaborates further, “for the nerves.” that’s all the explanation he thinks his teammate deserves, and it seems to ease the lightly, inquisitive frown on adrian’s face. “listen, just — don’t tell anyone. it’s better for the team that way.” and for himself, too, since if his sister ever caught wind of his little potions ritual before the match, the questions who made it ( yixing ) and where did you get the ingredients from ( stolen ) would arise, and yixing wants to answer neither of those.
so he shuts his mouth, pats the other boy’s shoulder and walks past. “forget about it, alright? let’s go have a drink — i feel like we all deserve one after that game."
taking his best students out to hogsmeade near the end of the term is practically tradition at this point. they deserve it, and as such they will be rewarded for it. so long as he gets them all under a safe roof before curfew ends on a saturday night, it shouldn’t be too much of a problem, and rarely has it ever been.
tonight seems like one of those rare nights, and now seokjin not only is extremely, extremely late for dinner and tucking in his precious daughter to bed tonight, but he also has to take care of a drunken student who, somehow, managed to stay behind while the rest went their merry way home.
“mr, lee,” he says, placing a hand on the kid’s shoulder, “i reckon it’s time for you to turn in, kid. come on -- let’s get you back home.”
to most, yeoreum is probably considered one of the most confident and snobby slytherin witches out there. she works really hard on keeping that image up, even if, in reality, it really isn’t her cup of tea at all. but you can only do so much when your parents have the ability to keep track of your doings thanks to a gazillion of meddlesome people’s eyes at hogwarts (filthy elitist relatives).
however, there are situations when yeoreum is forced to let her guard down and is unable to keep her composure; one of these including thunderstorms. god, just how freaking much she hates thunderstorms. they bring such vulnerability of hers to light that it’s almost embarrassing – and most of the time, she isn’t lucky enough to be with her close friends whenever there’s one going on.
this time, either. just how unlucky she has to be that the only one person around her in the slytherin common room has to be lee adrian? literally the worst person to be around when she’s so powerless – but, alas, she can’t help it no matter how much she struggles to keep it together. as soon as the first lightning hits, yeoreum squeals, knees pulled up and pressed tightly against her chest as she wraps her arms around them. just be over already, please be over already. she tries to ignore adrian’s presence as much as it’s physically possible, but her fear of storms is so overwhelming that she’s unable to concentrate on anything other than holding back another series of soft cries that threaten to break out. ( @slythadrian )
The weekend has crept up on her again with a stealth that she still cannot comprehend up to this day. She distinctly remembers it being Monday only a day ago but the unmistakable sound of students rejoicing because it’s finally Friday are really difficult to miss and ignore. She wishes that she could feel the same excitement as them but there are a hundred more pages to cover and they’re obviously not going to finish themselves.
Sighing loudly, she turns another page and scribbles another set of notes on her already filled piece of parchment - making a mental note to charm the ink to make it her writing more readable. It’s quiet in the library because, as expected, the other students are out and about the castle grounds getting ready to enjoy themselves over the weekend.
“Might as well finish this soon, have an early dinner and call it a night.” She tells herself and goes back to burying her nose into her books. Others often tease her for acting much too old for her age but she argues that she’s just being mature - and frankly, she finds nothing wrong with that.
