Ship/Member: Jeonghan/Nayoung Major Tags: N/A Additional Tags: New year same me (she means tswift inyyjh-isms) Permission to remix: Please ask
***
Nayoung stares at him, incredulous, “What are you doing here?”
“You’re the only person I know in this master’s program,” Jeonghan states plainly. He holds out the bouquet of pale blue roses to her. “Congratulations.”
Nayoung wordlessly adds them to the pile already gathered in her arms. The gold tassel on her graduation cap hits the side of her cheek when she re-rights herself. She’s wearing the navy slip dress under her gown that Jeonghan remembers hooking off her shoulders at his apartment a week ago while his mouth sucked a mark over her clavicle. She’d hated him for it to the point that she refused to respond to his texts for days, and Jeonghan can still see the faint line of it under the midday sun now.
“You can’t be here,” she warns, readjusting her collar. “My parents are out front, and all of my friends, and…” Nayoung trails off while her eyes shift away from his face. “Do you even know what these mean?” she finally asks about the roses.
Jeonghan shrugs, taking a step closer to where she’s standing a stair above him. His dress shoes pinch at his toes. “No,” he admits. He reaches over to tuck the strand of her hair that’s falling into her face behind her ear. “I just know that you like them.”
Nayoung chews her lip. “You’re impossible.”
“What are you doing later tonight?” Jeonghan says just for her to hear.
“I don’t know,” she replies, wary. “I’ll be busy for a while. And I have to go take pictures now.”
“Okay,” Jeonghan steps back with a smile. “Text me when you get home.”
Nayoung pushes past him, bumping his shoulder with hers. “You’re not my boyfriend, Yoon Jeonghan,” she reminds him.
He laughs at that, “I can pretend, can’t I?” Nayoung shoots him one last withering glare before walking off. “Congratulations again!” he calls after her, watching until she’s out of sight. She doesn’t look back once. Not like Jeonghan expected her to, anyway.
***
“You and Nayoung are more alike than you think,” Jisoo points out when Jeonghan resolutely refuses to continue talking about her.
Jeonghan picks at the remnants of his pasta with a fork. “How so?”
“You’re both too terrified to take a leap of faith for love.”
“You haven’t spoken to Nayoung one-on-one before,” Jeonghan grins wryly, trying to call his bluff.
Jisoo gives him that, “I haven’t.” But it wasn’t rocket science, either.
“I would do it,” confesses Jeonghan after giving it some thought. They’d agreed to eat at this restaurant for the beach view, but it was overcast and storming outside the floor length windows that they were so famous for. “Just not with Nayoung.”
“No?”
Jeonghan takes a stab at a cherry tomato, but it goes rolling off the plate. “Because I don’t know if she’d meet me halfway.” That’s what made it all so frustrating, yet impossible for Jeonghan to stay away.
***
In their second year of university, Jeonghan went to excruciating lengths to set Nayoung up with their mutual friend Seungcheol. It was a relationship that was doomed to fail though, because Jeonghan knew from the outset that Nayoung had a crush on him instead.
“There’s something clinical about your ambition,” is what Nayoung always said when they came back to the topic. Today, she’s sitting with her back to him in his bed, trying to zip up her dress. The light filtering in through the cracks between the blinds catches in her hair. “You’re always waiting for the other person to spill their guts first,” she adds this time around.
“You say that like you’re different.” Jeonghan walks across the room to her, stooping over to pull up the zipper. His knuckles brush the skin on the small of her back, collateral damage, to which she shivers.
“I wish I was,” Nayoung laments as Jeonghan moves to sit beside her. “But I don’t think I am.” She turns to look at him, gaze flickering down to his mouth momentarily before settling to meet his eyes. “And on top of all that, I don’t get you.”
Jeonghan twines his fingers with hers in slow motion. “What do you mean?”
Nayoung says distractedly, “I don’t know.” She tenses when he presses his forehead against her hair and relaxes again when he moves to kiss the side of her neck, featherlight. “I feel like I should know what to expect from you, but I never do.”
Jeonghan suddenly wishes he could give her that predictable kind of love. “But what’s the fun in that?”
Nayoung leans away so they can look at each other, head on. “You’re no good for me.” She sounds like she barely believes it, either. Even in the skewed light with the shades closed she’s beautiful.
Jeonghan feels the corner of his mouth quirk up, apologetic. “Maybe,” he agrees too easily. And then Nayoung closes the distance between them again and kisses him, like every second they spend apart kills her inside the same way it kills him.
[FILL] so we could call it even
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: New year same me (she means tswift inyyjh-isms)
Permission to remix: Please ask
***
Nayoung stares at him, incredulous, “What are you doing here?”
“You’re the only person I know in this master’s program,” Jeonghan states plainly. He holds out the bouquet of pale blue roses to her. “Congratulations.”
Nayoung wordlessly adds them to the pile already gathered in her arms. The gold tassel on her graduation cap hits the side of her cheek when she re-rights herself. She’s wearing the navy slip dress under her gown that Jeonghan remembers hooking off her shoulders at his apartment a week ago while his mouth sucked a mark over her clavicle. She’d hated him for it to the point that she refused to respond to his texts for days, and Jeonghan can still see the faint line of it under the midday sun now.
“You can’t be here,” she warns, readjusting her collar. “My parents are out front, and all of my friends, and…” Nayoung trails off while her eyes shift away from his face. “Do you even know what these mean?” she finally asks about the roses.
Jeonghan shrugs, taking a step closer to where she’s standing a stair above him. His dress shoes pinch at his toes. “No,” he admits. He reaches over to tuck the strand of her hair that’s falling into her face behind her ear. “I just know that you like them.”
Nayoung chews her lip. “You’re impossible.”
“What are you doing later tonight?” Jeonghan says just for her to hear.
“I don’t know,” she replies, wary. “I’ll be busy for a while. And I have to go take pictures now.”
“Okay,” Jeonghan steps back with a smile. “Text me when you get home.”
Nayoung pushes past him, bumping his shoulder with hers. “You’re not my boyfriend, Yoon Jeonghan,” she reminds him.
He laughs at that, “I can pretend, can’t I?” Nayoung shoots him one last withering glare before walking off. “Congratulations again!” he calls after her, watching until she’s out of sight. She doesn’t look back once. Not like Jeonghan expected her to, anyway.
***
“You and Nayoung are more alike than you think,” Jisoo points out when Jeonghan resolutely refuses to continue talking about her.
Jeonghan picks at the remnants of his pasta with a fork. “How so?”
“You’re both too terrified to take a leap of faith for love.”
“You haven’t spoken to Nayoung one-on-one before,” Jeonghan grins wryly, trying to call his bluff.
Jisoo gives him that, “I haven’t.” But it wasn’t rocket science, either.
“I would do it,” confesses Jeonghan after giving it some thought. They’d agreed to eat at this restaurant for the beach view, but it was overcast and storming outside the floor length windows that they were so famous for. “Just not with Nayoung.”
“No?”
Jeonghan takes a stab at a cherry tomato, but it goes rolling off the plate. “Because I don’t know if she’d meet me halfway.” That’s what made it all so frustrating, yet impossible for Jeonghan to stay away.
***
In their second year of university, Jeonghan went to excruciating lengths to set Nayoung up with their mutual friend Seungcheol. It was a relationship that was doomed to fail though, because Jeonghan knew from the outset that Nayoung had a crush on him instead.
“There’s something clinical about your ambition,” is what Nayoung always said when they came back to the topic. Today, she’s sitting with her back to him in his bed, trying to zip up her dress. The light filtering in through the cracks between the blinds catches in her hair. “You’re always waiting for the other person to spill their guts first,” she adds this time around.
“You say that like you’re different.” Jeonghan walks across the room to her, stooping over to pull up the zipper. His knuckles brush the skin on the small of her back, collateral damage, to which she shivers.
“I wish I was,” Nayoung laments as Jeonghan moves to sit beside her. “But I don’t think I am.” She turns to look at him, gaze flickering down to his mouth momentarily before settling to meet his eyes. “And on top of all that, I don’t get you.”
Jeonghan twines his fingers with hers in slow motion. “What do you mean?”
Nayoung says distractedly, “I don’t know.” She tenses when he presses his forehead against her hair and relaxes again when he moves to kiss the side of her neck, featherlight. “I feel like I should know what to expect from you, but I never do.”
Jeonghan suddenly wishes he could give her that predictable kind of love. “But what’s the fun in that?”
Nayoung leans away so they can look at each other, head on. “You’re no good for me.” She sounds like she barely believes it, either. Even in the skewed light with the shades closed she’s beautiful.
Jeonghan feels the corner of his mouth quirk up, apologetic. “Maybe,” he agrees too easily. And then Nayoung closes the distance between them again and kisses him, like every second they spend apart kills her inside the same way it kills him.