Status: Closed
This round has closed. It remains open for fills, comments and remixes, but prompts are no longer accepted.
About
"If I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more."
"What is grief, if not love persevering?"
"You kept me like a secret but I kept you like an oath"
Calling all readers, lovers of poetry and music, screen and stage. Quote collecters and lyric hoarders, unleash your archive. Each prompt must contain a quote - you can combine them, add commentary, link to articles, and more. Steal from a literary classic, or WeVerse drama. Have fun!
Examples
Minghao + Ocean Vuong
The most beautiful part of your body
is where it's headed. & remember,
loneliness is still time spent
with the world.
Ocean Vuong - night sky with exit wounds
Hoshi/Anyone; "Beauty is terror"
Thinking about these two quotes together and the idea of on/off-stage personas:
"Beauty is terror. Whatever we call beautiful we tremble before it. And what could be more terrifying or beautiful, to the Greeks to to our own, than to lose control completely?" - Donna Tartt, the Secret Histories
"I am calm in everyday life but when I put on my in-ear device and step on stage, I can feel the tension and hear the cheers getting louder as the music gets louder. When the staff tells me it's time to step on stage, I feel something boil inside me. I feel it steaming inside and I think I have to give a burst of something, spill what is inside me." - Hoshi in Hit the Road Ep. 04
Any ship; "It's been so many years"
Hello, hello there, is this Martha?
This is old Tom Frost
And I am calling long distance
Don't worry 'bout the cost.
'Cause it's been forty years or more
Now Martha please recall
Meet me out for coffee
Where we'll talk about it all.
Tom Watts - Martha
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Filling
- Reply to the original prompt;
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Remixing
- Post as a reply to the fill you are remixing, using the same HTML as above;
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mingyu acts of service
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: (possibly) unrequited love, friends with benefits
Do Not Wants: None
Prompt:
- Frank Ocean, Nikes
i do want to see this lyric explored from mingyu's pov, but you can ignore the bit about being younger if you want to write a 97z!
[FILL] if i lack love (i'm nothing at all)
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: unrequited love, friends with benefits, light angst, minghao is the best person ever
Permission to remix: Yes
***
When Mingyu meets Seungcheol, he’s in his third year of college. He’s interning at the local entertainment company that’s just a block away from his dorm, and Seungcheol is the man he’s meant to report to.
It all feels like one of those cliche romance movies that Mingyu isn’t embarrassed to admit he loves. Seungcheol is, for lack of better words, perfect, and everything that Mingyu dreams of in his ideal man. He wonders, his mind reeling through all his failed relationships in the past and the battered, bruised condition of his poor old heart, if maybe, this will be different. Maybe Seungcheol, who’s older and wiser and smarter and better, will understand Mingyu in a way no one has before, maybe Seungcheol will be the one to stick a bandaid on his heart and kiss it better. Mingyu admires him in a way he hasn’t admired anyone before, and honestly thinks that the older man could do no wrong. Maybe he’ll be the one.
He hopes, and hopes and hopes, that Seungcheol will see it; will recognise the ardent desire in Mingyu’s eyes for what it is.
Of course, it doesn’t really go Mingyu’s way, as most things usually don’t. Mingyu imprints on him like a baby duckling, but Seungcheol doesn’t see that - is hilariously oblivious to the star eyes that Mingyu makes at him whenever they grab lunch together at the cafeteria. Mingyu perseveres anyway. Maybe this could be different, he tells himself. Seungcheol just needs some time.
“You’re my best friend,” Seungcheol slurs one day, when they’ve reached the stage in their friendship where they could drink themselves to death in the older’s apartment and wake up sprawled over each other on the couch. “You’re my best friend, Mingyu. Thank you.”
Mingyu almost cries that night. Maybe this - maybe Seungcheol - could be different. Maybe, maybe, maybe.
Maybe, his heart whispers again, when they’re in a club and Seungcheol presses into him, god knows how many pounds of pure muscle tingling against Mingyu’s spine. The older man presses his lips to the back of Mingyu’s neck, warm and wet from the beer he’s been drinking. Mingyu arches his back, presses into Seungcheol even more, and lets it happen.
Maybe, his mind wonders, when after they wake up in the morning sprawled over each other as usual, but naked and in a bed this time, Seungcheol flashes him a heart-stopping smile and asks if they could make this a thing.
“We’re both so busy with life,” he says, a blanket draped over his legs, his pecs on full display, “And this is convenient, isn’t it?”
Mingyu is a fool. Mingyu swears he isn’t in love. Mingyu tells himself it’ll be so easy, so simple. Mingyu tells himself he’ll get over it.
Mingyu says yes.
And he knows, he knows he’s too far gone at this point, he knows he’s just making it harder on himself, but loving (not loving, he shakes his head, but he knows he’s just fooling himself) Seungcheol is a pleasure. It’s an absolute delight. It makes Mingyu’s entire day to send him good morning texts that are answered too late, to put an extra blanket over him at night because he knows his hyung gets cold, to make him his mum’s recipe of kimchi jjigae so he’d stay for breakfast.
Mingyu would go as far to say that he feels blessed beyond his wildest dreams to be allowed to love Seungcheol, even if it isn’t reciprocated in the slightest - to be given the chance to shower him in his brand of single-minded devotion and probably overwhelming affection. Everyone else before has taken Mingyu aside and told him “Hey, this is cool, but also too much for me, dude. Please take a step back, or maybe just go away entirely,” but Seungcheol hasn’t. Maybe it’d be kinder on Mingyu’s heart if he had, but Mingyu convinces himself that if he gets his heart broken at the end of the line, it’ll all be worth it.
Seungcheol listens when Mingyu rambles on about the significance of some ingredient in a recipe that he has the least interest in, and engages in midnight arguments about the ethics of owning pets; and maybe it’s because when Mingyu is talking, he has a earphone in one ear blasting one of Jihoon’s new tracks; and maybe it’s because to Seungcheol, they’re still best friends and arguing over dumb shit is just what best friends do. Mingyu doesn’t know. He tells himself he doesn’t care. It’ll all be worth it, he promises his heart, it’ll all be worth it in the end.
He’s not in love, he tries to convince himself at night, when Seungcheol is snoring next to him but his back is turned away. He’s not in love, but he takes great pleasure in making love to Seungcheol. It’s okay. Even that is enough for him. He may be younger, more foolish, more inexperienced than anyone Seungcheol has been with before, but Seungcheol is with him now, and that’s all that matters. He lets Mingyu take care of him, lets him fuss, lets him cook for him, lets him fuck him on nights that he feels like it. It’s more than Mingyu ever thought he’d be allowed.
It truly does feel like a blessing to him, to be allowed to hold Seungcheol’s attention, even if it’s just during stress-induced fucks and the sweet morning-afters when Seungcheol is in such a rush that he skips breakfast and lets the bowl of oyakodon that Mingyu had painstakingly made for him go cold, but he ruffles Mingyu’s hair before leaving and his heart soars higher and higher.
It’ll be alright. It’ll be alright.
Seungcheol is in his life and he lets him into his home and sometimes helps fold Mingyu’s bedsheets.
It’ll be enough. It is enough. Mingyu will make sure that it is.
==
Mingyu meets Minghao about seven months into his whatever-it-is (not a relationship, he repeats it in his head like a mantra before they fall asleep sticky and sweaty and oh so naturally, it’s not a relationship) with Seungcheol.
His new friend takes one look at him in the morning, after Seungcheol’s left to go meet Jihoon, and sighs.
“You’re fucked, aren’t you?” Minghao isn’t one to mince his words.
Mingyu’s eyes widen. “What?”
“That guy,” Minghao jerks his head towards the shut door, then eyes the untouched plate of French toast on the table. “You like him. Hell, you probably love him.”
Mingyu doesn’t know what to say. It’s been barely a week since he and Minghao bonded over their shared taste in weird, abstract art and photography and stupid romantic movies after a chance encounter in his favourite camera shop. He doesn’t know if it’s appropriate for Minghao to be commenting on his pathetic (not pathetic, he has what he wants, he has Seungcheol (does he?)) love life, doesn’t know how he feels about a practical outsider instantly knowing how stupid and lovesick he is.
“Uh. No?”
Minghao snorts. “Oh, Mingyu,” he sighs. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Mingyu learns one week into knowing Minghao that he doesn’t seem to care much for how appropriate (distant, guarded, aware) he should be around new friends. It’s a refreshing change, meeting someone so unaffected by societal pressures. Mingyu would be too scared to try, too scared to live the way Minghao does - unapologetic, with clear, set boundaries and a vision of what he wants his life to look like. Mingyu just knows he wants Seungcheol. Doesn’t know anything else.
It’s so, so pathetic. Minghao is kind enough not to say it to his face.
“It’s unhealthy,” Minghao says, one hand resting on Mingyu’s, one hand curled around the cup of coffee that Mingyu had made for him as payment for listening to him and his lovesick woes. “It’s really unhealthy to live like this, Mingyu.”
“It’s enough,” Mingyu insists, although he’s unsure himself. “He’s my best friend. He listens to me. He sleeps with me. Isn’t that what they say love should be? Best friends, but with benefits?”
“Not benefits,” Minghao says patiently, more patient than anyone has ever been with Mingyu. They’d usually just roll their eyes and tell him to get his shit together. “Love is not an idealised friends-with-benefits relationship, Mingyu. It’s more than that. This is just hurting you.”
Is it? Mingyu doesn’t know what hurts and what doesn’t anymore. He just knows what it feels like waking up next to Seungcheol, all sleep-ruffled and adorable, and he knows that he wants that forever.
“I can only tell you how I see it,” Minghao says before he leaves that morning, looking straight at him, his eyes seemingly seeing through everything that Mingyu tries his best to hide. “I can’t tell you what to do, Mingyu, but I hope you think about it more. Think about it without thinking about your love for him.”
“How can I do that?” Mingyu asks, a bit desperate. “How can I think about him without thinking that I love him?”
Minghao doesn’t have an answer for that.
When he leaves, Mingyu opens his text thread with Seungcheol.
mingoo
hyung, do you want me to bring you lunch?
When he hits send, he feels a bit pathetic, and a whole lot of stupid. Minghao’s words cling to him like unwanted mud after a walk in the rain. They echo in his brain loudly, menacingly. Mingyu wishes they would stop. His head hurts too much.
cheol hyung <3
sure! do you mind if jihoon joins us?
AAAA mingyu i think i like him, pls say yes. u gotta be my wingman bro!!
Something in Mingyu’s heart stops. Something snaps. Something breaks and tears and Mingyu feels like he’s choking on his blood.
How had he been so blind? He wants to break his phone. But -
mingoo
sure! waah hyung, you never told me u liked him
- he’s just a foolish, foolish boy. Just a boy, trying to tell a man that he’s enough. How could he ever be?
But Mingyu doesn’t know how to stop. He doesn’t know who he is, without his love for Seungcheol. Doesn’t know who he is, if he doesn’t have someone to love.
If Mingyu isn’t in love, he’s nothing at all.
Re: [FILL] if i lack love (i'm nothing at all)
i was really really really hoping someone would pick up on this prompt and i literally SCREAMED when i saw it happened because i think this lyric is so so so mingyu and you executed it PERFECTLY. seungcheol as this cool older guy that mingyu can't help but admire was so well thought-out. and like!!! the disaster and helplessness in the way mingyu loves him is so painful to read but it's also so very real and i loved it. the way mingyu gives himself up so completely and so desperately... OOF! it HURTS! and oh my god of course he carries the pain of people telling him he was too much in the past... and of course that doesn't stop him from loving ardently as ever. and i also love the gyuhao friendship, the honesty and kindness of it all. so so so good.
"If Mingyu isn't in love, he's nothing at all" - literally this. i think about it all the time, and about how mingyu just wants to be GOOD and USEFUL
thank you so much for filling this prompt you have no idea how happy this has made me!!!
Re: [FILL] if i lack love (i'm nothing at all)
[FILL] He Stays for Breakfast
Major Tags: open ending
Additional Tags: unrequited love
Permission to remix: Yes
There’s only about a third of Mingyu’s iced Latte left. He’s pretending to read something on his phone, because it’s embarrassing to be found just waiting, but in actuality, he’s just staring at the screen. He’s checked out of the large windows dozens of times now and the sky is the color that always gives him a headache, brilliant and torturing.
He’s coming, Mingyu knows this. Minghao is never late or –well, never has been (maybe just so he gets to hold everyone else to the same standard) But even if he’s late, he’s coming. He’d never not come without telling him first. Maybe that’s a problem too, the mere fact that he’s coming. But also that he’s late, because now Mingyu has to get ready to meet him again and again, every second again mentally prepare to look into that very pretty face and figure out how to handle it after months of not having it.
Mingyu is anxious.
Anxious enough that he’s bought an iced latte in December, because he’d spaced out at the counter until the kind barista had verbally asked for his attention.
He takes another big sip, until nothing fits into his mouth unless he hollows out his cheeks and swallows. Then he chokes, because someone enters and it’s for nothing, because it isn’t Minghao.
In his mind he has entered the café at least five times. Imaginary Minghao is wearing a long coat and a long scarf, because that is what he used to wear when they’d meet here. Everything he wore would make him even longer. The stylists had not once put him in cuffed jeans, Mingyu remembers.
The real Minghao pulls him away from the imagination. This one has a voice and a body and his hair is significantly longer.
„Hello. I’m sorry I’m late.“ Minghao says in his horribly soft and monotone voice. „I couldn’t find the way.“ There’s no time or space to awkwardly greet him back, because Minghao has already turned away to face the clothing hangers.
Gracefully, he wiggles out of his jacket. It looks expensive. He looks expensive. Every moment Minghao lives could make for a candid-type spread in Elle.
„Do you want to get something to drink?“ Mingyu asks to distract himself. „Yes. I–“ his eyes fall on the tragically empty Iced Latte sitting on the edge of the table. „Should I get you something as well?“
It feels judgmental. „I’m good.“ Mingyu answers, a little too quickly, just so he doesn’t look like a glutton. „Good. I’ll be right back.“
Mingyu winces. He watches Minghao leave for the counter. He finishes his drink. The emotional ‚I missed you‘ kiss he’d fantasized the night before never comes.
˙· 𓆝.° ｡˚𓆛˚｡°.𓆞 ·˙
Minghao is drinking tea; Mingyu is unsure of why exactly they needed to go to a vegan café for this.
„How was China?“
„Very good.“ Mingyu shows off in Mandarin. Minghao smiles, which is exactly the reaction he hoped for. Something in his eyes is missing.
„Way to know the very basics. I’m impressed. I would’ve thought you’d be more fluent after four months.“ The teasing doesn’t really land.
„I liked it.“ Mingyu answers the original question. Minghao got him an extra cup to try the tea and his fingers nervously play around the hot porcelain.
„Everyone was very kind. And impressed by my hight. Even more so than here –“ somehow, he doesn’t remember how close they are. Which conversation topics are appropriate. Mingyu doesn’t know what to say, so he falls back on to work.
„I got to shoot for GQ. Just a small spread, almost nothing.“
Minghao’s gaze is distant, but he smiles genuinely.
„That’s amazing. Congratulations.“
And even though it’s the perfect reaction, it stings bittersweet. When Mingyu came ‚home‘ after the job, he’d laid in bed and wondered what Minghao would’ve looked like in the long silk robes. What he would’ve said in any given conversation with the rest of the staff. If he would’ve sneezed at the excessive powder like the present model had.
He wants Minghao to be jealous like he would’ve been. And he wants Minghao to have missed him like he has. He wants to hear that he was lonely, that he was craving his touch and their conversations.
But Minghao is happy for him. He doesn’t engage with their separation further than that.
It’s the worst.
˙· 𓆝.° ｡˚𓆛˚｡°.𓆞 ·˙
They met two years ago on a set. Mingyu fell over the wiring of the extra extra screens and Minghao helped him clean the rosé colored tulle skirt intended for model #4. And even though Minghao had sneered at the unprofessionalism of the assistant’s assistant, he’d taken him out for coffee the Saturday after.
On their second date, Minghao had revealed he didn’t do dating right now („I don’t want to lead you on.“) and Mingyu had pretended to agree with the sentiment, just so it didn’t have to become awkward. For not doing dating, he dated Mingyu for a long time before allowing him to take him to bed.
Two hopeless romantics not-dating wasn’t a recipe for that type of relationship to work out, but they tried their best. Mingyu only bought him flowers once, they wouldn’t cry in front each other and they wouldn’t talk about family.
Whenever Mingyu came to pick him up after work and softly kissed him in the privacy of his car, he’d secretly think to himself it was only a matter of time.
˙· 𓆝.° ｡˚𓆛˚｡°.𓆞 ·˙
„You deleted your private instagram.“
„Haha, I just didn’t really have a use for it anymore.“ Mingyu lies.
„I would’ve liked to see updates from China, that’s why I checked…“ Minghao says, because he needs a surface level reason to check after his non-lover.
„I didn’t take many photos anyways.“ Mingyu says.
„I mean – outside of work, I didn’t. And they’re on my camera, I was just too lazy to upload them. I don’t have it with me right now, I’ll show you next time! It’s things you’ve seen before –“
He used to be better at bullshitting. There was a point where it became clear that more often than not Minghao could see right through him, so Mingyu stopped lying. For the most part.
But longing after a non-lover is pathetic and so is deleting an instagram because you can’t bear the notification of Xu Minghao liking your picture, nor the pressure of knowing. He might, any minute, watch your story and potentially find it tacky. Or cliché in a bad way. Or, worst, swipe it away after just a second without any positive or negative feelings attached to the piece of mind Mingyu shared. And everything he shares, he shares for Minghao to see.
„– anyways. Only so many ways to capture a bridge.“
Minghao winces at his fake excuse. He doesn’t even hide it.
A silence hangs like fog over their small table, both of them are staring into the tinted liquid of their tea. For some reason Mingyu feels like crying. He won’t take Minghao home tonight, will he.
„I’ve been wanting to talk.“
„It’s better to do it in person.“ Mingyu takes the sentence out of his mouth. He doesn’t want Minghao to get the satisfaction of vomiting some pre-written blank text.
He’d always thought if they skipped the feelings, they could skip this part too.
„I’m seeing someone seriously now.“
Mingyu nods before the words have even registered in his brain. He doesn’t dare look up.
„That’s fine.“
He knows his voice is betraying his bruised ego, never having been good at hiding the ugly emotions: dull pain and anger mix into contempt.
„I just wanted to talk about it.“ Minghao’s voice gets smaller.
„I know it’s a weird timing.“ He says empathetically.
„I guess.“
It’s uncomfortable. Mingyu doesn’t want to take part int this conversation, especially when Minghao already knows what he’s thinking. They both know.
„I mean – what is there to talk about, really.“ Mingyu opens.
„I don’t knows why…“ he falters. „…we’re making such a serious thing out of this.“ He leans back. „It’s honestly fine. It was…“
Their eyes meet.
„Unpredictable.“ Minghao finishes for him.
„Sometimes the right person just comes along.“ Mingyu says, as naturally as possible.
˙· 𓆝.° ｡˚𓆛˚｡°.𓆞 ·˙
Sometimes the right person just comes along.
It was supposed to be him, though, an exception to Minghao’s little rule.
Minghao didn’t want to date, especially not people from the field. An unfortunate breakup could jeopardize his career, he’d said and Mingyu had accepted that. He’d agreed, even. Getting feelings involved complicated this hopeless job even more; He’d been told by a production manager once that dating models was detrimental to any career and Mingyu, chasing acceptance as he did, was proud to take this advice.
He had felt exemplary, almost commendable (ignoring how Minghao was the driving force in this decision). They were putting their careers first, like real adults. Now he could say „I could’ve dated a model, but I didn’t. For my career.“ Didn’t that add some credibility to his name?
˙· 𓆝.° ｡˚𓆛˚｡°.𓆞 ·˙
Minghao had liked spending time at his apartment. He’d pretended to be better than his real reason, citing the natural lighting was beneficial to his sleep cycle, but Mingyu knew it was the portafilter machine and Mingyu’s handmade pancake batter that had Minghao coming back to wake up in Mingyu’s bed for days on end.
In the cold days Mingyu pays extra heating bills to keep Minghao warm.
None of it is one sided, which drives Mingyu even further. Sometimes, Minghao brings groceries unasked from his favorite gourmet store. He stacks Mingyu’s shelves with books and annotates the parts he cares about. At night, he’ll share him parts of Chinese poems that move him; it’s one of Mingyu’s favorite parts about Minghao, how easily he’s impacted by art.
It’s impossible not to want more.
˙· 𓆝.° ｡˚𓆛˚｡°.𓆞 ·˙
„Is this the only reason we’re meeting?“ Mingyu asks. „I’ve better things to do. This could’ve happened over text.“
Minghao’s eyes narrow. „If I’d known you’d be this weird about it I would’ve done it over text.“
„Great. Why didn’t you do it while I was in China?“
„I didn’t plan for it to get this serious – I… every possible timing would’ve been just as uncomfortable.“
Every possible timing would’ve been better than coming home to this, Mingyu wants to say, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t say anything. He finishes his tea (It’s very nice, because Minghao has good taste in everything) and pulls on his coat and his wool hat.
Then he thanks Minghao for telling him and leaves the café. Outside, he looks back at their table through the glass and as his eyes linger on Minghao’s dyed hair he can’t help but wonder in misery, when exactly he’s deluded himself into the idea of them being in love.
The hardcover book of traditional Chinese poems he’s found in a Chengdu vintage bookstore sits heavily in his bag.
˙· 𓆝.° ｡˚𓆛˚｡°.𓆞 ·˙
‚We were all surprised when they showed up together.‘ Soonyoung had explained while chewing on the Steak Mingyu made for him (he keeps track of all his friend’s favorite temperatures).
Minghao’s boyfriend is fifteen years older than them. He must’ve known Mingyu would judge him for it – and he does.
The guy an artist, which is all Mingyu needs to know about the situation, but Soonyoung is bad at reading social cues, so he info-dumps until Mingyu asks about the studio and breaks his monologue.
So you’re into older guys now?/
Mingyu types and deletes.
Did you just want to have a backup?/
You can still come over, I don’t mind if you’re with him. I won’t tell./
He stares at the message thumb hovering over the ‚send’-button until his phone screen turns dark.
˙· 𓆝.° ｡˚𓆛˚｡°.𓆞 ·˙
‚Found this on my trip‘ says the sticky note on the collection of poems. He’s skillfully wrapped the book in expensive red gift-paper. Next to it he places the leftovers (in actuality, he calculated Minghao in the portioning) of last nights stir-fry Szechuan chicken. He leaves both on the metal Mailboxes of Minghao’s apartment complex.
When Minghao returns the Tupperware the following Sunday, he stays for breakfast.
Re: [FILL] He Stays for Breakfast
[FILL] whatever you need, i got the time
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: rule 63, drinking, hoshi is a hot mess
Permission to remix: Yes
i’ll admit that this isn’t at all what you asked for but i wrote this in a frenzy and i guess i am posting it. obviously inspired by this tweet … they are potential gfs to me
***
Sooyoung can’t handle her alcohol.
Sooyoung can’t handle her alcohol, nor can she resist the late-night urge to get absolutely wasted at the end of the week.
Overall, it isn’t that bad of an idea. No work tomorrow means she can sleep all day long and let her consequent hangover get the best of her. As usual, Seungwan is wrong about everything. Sooyoung is obviously very good at planning out her life.
“Seokmi-unnie, please take her bottle—wait—here,” Seungwan is struggling to say over the chatter inside the bar. “Unnie, just give it to me.”
Seokmi’s all red in the face and is distracted with something else but complies, efficiently stealing Sooyoung’s soju bottle out of her hands. She blinks slowly as she passes it to Seungwan, who drunkenly nods to herself like congratulations for a job well done.
Sooyoung doesn’t hesitate to smack Seokmi, who only cowers in slow motion. “Yah, what was that for?”
Seungwan gives her a murderous, accusatory look. “You’re drinking too much.”
Sooyoung gasps. “Am not!”
“Are too!”
“And how would you even know that?”
“I know you, unnie,” Seungwan hisses with a finger stuck in her face. “I know you!”
Sooyoung ignores her, deciding to fix her face and offer Seokmi some more kisses instead. “Sorry for hitting you,” she slurs, her lips puckered and ready. “Can I have my drink back? I’ll give you a kiss!”
“Eugh.” Seokmi slumps against the seat and heaves out a sigh. “Let’s just get out of here. I’m tired of looking at Minju’s stupid face.”
Minju whirls around at the sound of her name, scowling at Seokmi through her carefully styled bangs.
Seokmi immediately covers her mouth, like she didn’t mean to say it out loud. “Sorry,” she says weakly, then rolling her eyes when Minju does the decent thing and decides not to start an argument.
“Let’s go,” Seungwan tells Seokmi, moving to gather her things. “My face is getting puffy.”
“But I don’t want to go!” Sooyoung shouts, clinging onto Seokmi by her arms. They are very strong arms. She lets her hands linger, feeling comforted by her beautiful best friend’s strength.
“Unnie, when was the last time you ate something?” Seungwan grumbles. She stands up from her seat and repeatedly presses down on her hot cheeks. “You’re being disruptive right now.”
Great question. Sooyoung can’t remember the last time she ate food but doesn’t want to admit such weakness to her dongsaengs. “You’re being disruptive right now,” she retorts smartly, wrinkling her nose.
“You’re both being disruptive,” Minju interjects, sitting down next to Sooyoung. She tilts her head to one side, gesturing to the other table where Jisoo is sitting at with Myungho and Junhwi, whom Sooyoung admittedly doesn’t know very well. “And Jisoo-oppa is definitely glaring at you.”
Sooyoung lets out a chuckle. “Don’t be silly, Minju. Oppa doesn’t glare.”
She casts Jisoo a furtive glance and—oh, never mind. He really is glaring.
Minju notices Sooyoung’s smug smile fall from her face and gently nudges her arm, smiling ruefully. “Told you.”
Sooyoung tries not to frown too hard but fails. It's just like Jisoo said when she got dumped—he's never been able to handle her. “Whatever.”
Sooyoung used to enjoy outings like these, rounding up all of her friends and their friends and they would terrorize the bar patrons the whole night until it was time to go. But ever since she and Jisoo broke up, the group has split into pieces and dispersed everywhere. The other guys didn’t even bother showing up tonight, and now Jisoo has brought his shiny new work friends to their—her spot.
She just hopes Jisoo knows he’s the fucking worst.
“Here, unnie. Don’t forget your jacket.” Seungwan’s voice distracts Sooyoung from where she apparently had been trying to bore a hole through her palm with her eyes.
“Oh.” She looks up at Seokmi and Seungwan, who both have their coats on and are clutching their purses tightly. “Seungwannie, you’re leaving already?”
“It’s late,” Seokmi says. “Chanmi is bringing her car and I don’t think Seungwan can emotionally handle the subway right now.” Her eyes are apologetic and pitying and that makes Sooyoung feel a little annoyed.
“Fine. Ditch me, I don’t care,” Sooyoung replies confidently. She takes the soju bottle Seungwan had unsuccessfully hidden from her and watches her face harden. “I’m staying. I don’t need you to have fun.”
Seungwan just tugs on Seokmi’s arm. “Come on, Chanmi-yah is out front.” She shifts her gaze to Sooyoung, eyes round and watery behind her lensless glasses.
“Please don’t die, Sooyoung-unnie.”
I’m older than you and you can’t tell me what to do, Sooyoung wants to say, but Seungwan and Seokmi make quick work of scooting out of the front door, and then they’re gone.
“Shit,” Sooyoung belatedly mutters, taking another swig of soju, sweet and lukewarm on her tongue. “They were my ride.”
“That’s okay!” Minju chirps, nearly startling Sooyoung out of her chair. “You can come with me.”
“Yah, I almost forgot you were there,” Sooyoung says through an abrupt giggle, setting her bottle down.
Maybe a different person would’ve taken offense to that, but Minju only leans in closer, grinning with all of her white teeth. Her deep pink lipstick, somehow, is still perfectly applied. “Oh, did my presence scare unnie?” she teases. “I am so sorry.”
Through the haze in Sooyoung’s brain, Minju’s done-up face shines like a beacon. Attentive brown eyes meet hers, glistening with excitement and endearment. As if Minju just enjoys being in her presence that much, even when she’s an inebriated mess like this. As if she doesn’t owe Minju a single thing.
Sooyoung’s face feels… hotter. She imagines the color on her face deepening into a furious red. Suddenly she gets why Seungwan is always so annoyed with her during nights like this—she is so keen on finding new ways to embarrass herself.
Unaware of her contained crisis, Minju takes a manicured finger and brushes some of loose hair behind Sooyoung’s ear. Sooyoung forces herself to exhale. “You ready to go home?”
Sooyoung blinks a few times, still speechless, before vehemently shaking her head. “No. I’m not.”
Minju makes a tiny confused noise, lips forming a cute little pout. “No?”
Sooyoung shakes her head again. When strands of hair fall into her mouth, Minju carefully brushes them aside. This isn’t new, but the intense, pulsating warmth washing over Sooyoung definitely is. Or, at least, she thinks it is. Because if it isn’t drunkenness, then—
“Take me to your apartment,” Sooyoung breathes out. She knows she’s unabashedly staring now. She doesn’t do anything about it.
Minju’s expression becomes less playful and more subdued. “Oh,” she says thoughtfully, looking up at the ceiling as the gears in her head start to turn. “I don’t know if I’ll be any fun, but I can cook you something! Seungwan said you haven’t eaten today or—oh, I guess it’s late you must be tired. You can sleep in my bed. Um—only if you want. Obviously.”
Sooyoung just nods along to Minju’s lispy rambling. “I don’t mind,” she says quietly, more sure of herself than she’s been all night. She forgets about the drinks, pockets her phone.
“Okay,” Minju says contently. She gets up from her seat and holds her hand out for Sooyoung.
Sooyoung must be imagining the happy flush blooming across Minju’s cheeks and nose. “Wait. You aren’t drunk, right?”
Minju’s eyes go comically wide. “Me? Oh, no. I didn’t drink at all.”
Kim Minju is actually perfect, Sooyoung realizes. Why does she even hang out with them, again? She wishes she paid more attention to the people in her life while she was sober.
Minju’s face dims, hand falling back down to her side. “Um, because I thought— I thought you guys were my friends,” she mumbles. Her broad shoulders start to sag. “I just— I don't know.”
It takes Sooyoung a second too long for the guilt to rush in like flooding water. “No, Minju— No— that isn’t what I meant to say,” she pleads. She staggers a bit before catching up and taking Minju’s hand. “Minju-yah,” she says again, softly.
Minju freezes in her steps. "Shit." She turns around and meets Sooyoung with the beginnings of a sheepish grin forming at the corners of her raspberry mouth. “You’re still coming with me. Sorry.”
“You’re my friend,” Sooyoung says as genuinely as she can, staring right into Minju’s eyes.
“You don’t have to say that for a ride,” Minju groans, looking away embarrassedly but Sooyoung can tell she’s a little pleased. “I already said I’ll take you home!”
“I said I want to go to your apartment!” Sooyoung yells frustratedly, and Minju, along with the rest of the people in the bar, is stunned into silence.
“Okay, unnie,” Minju says slowly after a moment, her sharp brows downturned like a retreating dog's. She carefully hands Sooyoung her coat from the table, a far cry from her typically confident exterior.
Sooyoung can feel Jisoo’s eyes on her back. She decides that doesn’t have to matter. She sets her mouth determinedly and squeezes Minju’s hand with her sweaty one.
“Okay,” she says firmly, matching Minju’s cadence. “Let’s go.”
Then Minju’s face breaks into an easy smile. She opens the door with her free elbow, blinking rapidly as a cold breeze tousles her long hair. “Come on, then. I'll drive.”
Re: [FILL] whatever you need, i got the time
Re: [FILL] whatever you need, i got the time