#wonashi

[yochumochu]

america arc stonesona

the song to go with this is Sparkling Daydream by ZAQ!!

yes im joking but pairing a joyous song with this is the best i can do. nagisa is having the time of his life rn (not really).

[wonashi]

A BELIEVER jungwon.

fluff, angst(???), swearing

m.list

—

Yang Jungwon has been waiting in front of the bus stop near your house for god knows how long (20 minutes, 30? he can’t tell) in the blazing heat and he wants nothing more than to go home and drench his body in a bucket of ice. but he doesn’t, can’t, don’t.

Jungwon is a firm believer of many things; he believes that the milk goes right before the cereal (insane, is what you think when you saw it first hand), walking and taking the bus is a far more better mode of transportation than driving (have you seen the gas prices?), peanut butter and jam does NOT go together, living is a scam (it’s not like he chose to be born so why does he have to pay for shit, he thinks).

And most importantly, he believes in the whole time management thing and he will chew you out if you’re ever a minute late because you’re dragging him? out of the comfort of his home? and you choose to be late? his friends had experienced it plenty of times, his family sometimes, but for some reason, never you. He thinks it’s because he holds more patience for you rather than them, but the beating of his heart and the churning of his stomach thinks so otherwise.

From the corner of his eye he sees you running up to him with all your glory in a white sundress, hair neatly pinned back with a bow- and wait, is that makeup he sees? oh god, he thinks and Jungwon firmly believes that time has truly stopped as his ears ring and heat crawls up his neck. you were pretty, he thought.

Jungwon had always thought you were pretty.

The kind of pretty he acknowledges but would never say out loud, the kind of pretty that made the flowers bloom and the sun be jealous of your beauty. the kind that makes him want to worship your entirety, to speak of your goodness, and become born again; a prophet of your grace almost.

Seconds begin to tick and he’s brought out of his reverie with a wave of your hand in front of his face, “Oh hi” he says, and he thanked what ever deity is up and above for not fucking up a simple greating.

“Did you wait long?” you asked with a smile on your face that then turns into something of a frown, “Sorry I was late, I had to-“ and Jungwon tunes it out because he can’t stop looking at your lips and the way it forms into a pout as you spoke of apologies and excuses (he can’t find an ounce to care, honestly, because you’re already here in front of him), hands dancing around in their own tune and Jungwon wants nothing more than to stop the song and pull you in and just- he stops. best friends don’t kiss each other on the lips, this he believes. firmly? not so much.

So he is forced into a reality that simply overstepping the imaginary line, of becoming more than what you both have, was not an option, and could never be. because parallel lines could never intersect, and you two were just measly lines drawn from childhood. with each other, but not together.

Jungwon felt a hand wrap around his wrist as he’s being pulled into the bus (when did that get here?) and he felt the world around him shift and he had become more hyper aware of the hand that latched itself onto his wrist. he feels the beating of his heart rush out of tempo (he’s afraid you’d hear it), the scent of your fabric softener, the pads of your fingers, the tap of your shoes, the wind rustling against clothing, the churning of his stomach — he feels nauseous.

He forces himself to believe that this is fine, just like this, you within arms reach. It has been for 10 years, so why not now?

—

© WONASHI