without you.
@joohyuncv
The whole rigmarole of moving back to the academy, unpacking his belongings and getting himself set up for classes was never Taemin's favorite thing. Even when he did abuse telekinesis while sorting through the tangled mass he’d packed (well, to an extent, it was more flinging things in the general area they should go with his mind and ignoring them when they banged loudly against the walls) it didn't really make it any more enjoyable, the novelty of that had worn off long ago. He'd halfheartedly tapped in a list of things he'd forgotten into his phone as he went – notebooks had no doubt been left in a plastic bag hanging from his door, and he had a grand total of two pens (one working), along with miscellaneous other items he'd have to see if his parents would send him. The process of packing was just as exciting to Taemin as unpacking – that is to say, not at all, so it was really no wonder he hadn’t brought everything with him.
He'd eventually made his way over to the school store, his hair a wild mess and dark bruises pressed underneath his eyes that betrayed his lack of sleep. It wasn't usual, and he often declared that he was purposefully going for a heroin chic sort of vibe – which he also decided gave him the right to look unkempt on a near-daily basis, had a tendency to live in over-sized hoodies and ripped jeans. He lit up on the short walk from the carriage house to the school store, nicotine flooding his system and smoke lingering in his lungs before he exhaled, head tipped back to scatter the sky above him with imitation clouds.
The heels of his sneakers scuffed the concrete of the sidewalk when he finally made it to the tiny strip of shops that the school had constructed. Taemin loitered outside of the school shop, body tipped to the side to rest his shoulder on a support pillar, had ashes scattering to the wind as he flicked the filter with his thumb, intent on finishing it before he dragged himself inside to buy supplies. Or, more accurately, re-buy.
Taemin really didn't keep himself in the know when it came to who worked where, what classes people took (unless it could immediately benefit him), or even what covens they were in. He was incredibly self-absorbed, to the point where people often accused him of being narcissistic. He figured that was alright though, he didn't really give a fuck what most people thought about him, not unless he was interested in them. It was due to this however, that Taemin had no idea that Joohyun was working at the school store when he pushed his way inside. He probably should have, they'd only broken up at the end of the last semester.
He’d said he was glad they were over, said he didn't think about her anymore, but Taemin had always been a fantastic liar and he knew well enough himself that it wasn't true. There was something about Joohyun that pulled him back in time and time again despite the fights that had often sparked up angry and loud between them. Iterations of breakups, and then forgiveness, something set to a never-ending loop. Though Taemin knew he'd thoroughly screwed things up between them the last time, wasn't sure if he'd still see the angry flash in Joohyun's eyes when he grabbed at a couple of notebooks, a pack of pens and dropped them on the counter in front of her.
They shouldn't happen again, he knew that. They wouldn't happen again. Probably. But god, she was pretty. "Hey Baechu." the words spilled out soft between them, affection hidden in the pet name. "Miss me at all?" there was a near-cocky lift to his lips as he shot her a grin, hand fitting into his back pocket to tug out his wallet and his eyes trained on hers, intent to try and read her reaction.