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erospandemos · 6 months

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Night-time Getaway

Saerom x Male Reader

Length: 3.1k

A little gift for my friend Vidro.

You take Saerom on an impromptu date to distract her from her stress and the night ends better than expected.

The wind of a late autumn night was perfectly chilly, just enough to feel the breeze caress the skin without needing more than a hoodie. The street was completely quiet. If you were to listen carefully, maybe you might have noticed the buzzing of the street lamps and the few shop signs that were left turned on. The colours warm up your eyes, it’s the pumpkin orange that you see in every store and café at this time of the month, and you can see it even at night through the lights.

You take your usual route to the park through the only unlit side of the meadow. Although you can barely make out anything, you’ve memorized all the necessary steps so you have nothing to worry about.

You can see a figure on the hill, her familiar silhouette is illuminated by the moonlight. She was dancing and humming a song, without much emphasis, just softly outlining the moves. You can already feel yourself smiling before you even get to see her smile while walking towards her.

You stop to listen to her, to watch her dance. It’s a lucky opportunity, you don’t usually get to see her ‘perform’. She was just in the middle of moving her hair when she heard your steps. You curse yourself for ruining the moment and she curses herself for not hearing you sooner. She stands still for a moment, with her flatly embarrassed smile, and tries to cover her face with her hair. She grabs a handful of the strands and looks away, concealing every inch of her skin.

“Sorry, Saerom, I didn’t mean to stop you…” you say, chuckling at her cute behavior.

“How long were you there for?” she mutters, still keeping her face covered. You can barely hear her words.

“I just got here. Well, you were dancing so well, I just couldn’t help but… look at you.”

“What’s wrong with you…?” Saerom whines and nervously paces around, making circles in the grass. You can hear her smile in how she talked, the fluster in her voice was so irresistibly cute. Her eyes flicker back and forth, between you and the ground.

You chuckle and make your way to her side. You pat her shoulder and sit down on the ground. Saerom takes a seat too, slowly unraveling herself from the hair.

“New choreo?” you ask.

“Yeah.”

“Was it yesterday or…?”

“Today. She showed it to me to teach me to have more groove,” Saerom says. She looks away to the city and can only find the blue sky cut by the black shape of the buildings. This park was her favorite escape, a place she could go to whenever she needed, whenever she wanted. And in this place, she’d always find her favorite person, to whom she could confine any thought or worry.

“Are you having a hard time?”

“It is… a little challenging, I’d say. It’s not very immediate—the groove—it’s really about feeling and I can’t really observe it.” Saerom is playing with the hem of her shirt. She is the type of person to get nervous and worried quite easily. The thought of being left behind was something that always haunted her even though her skills were already at an excellent level. You could call her a perfectionist.

She lets out a long sigh. “Will I ever get it right?”

“A lot of idols still don’t have it and they have been dancing for years. You’re doing fine, Saerom. You’re just fine-tuning small things now. You will figure it out.”

“I hope so…”

“By the way,” you change the topic, “Are all the members sleeping already?”

“Ah, the kids,” that’s how she called her members, having to constantly take care of them. “Yeah, they’re already tucked in their beds.”

“Well, done, Mom.”

“Yah!” Saerom slaps your arm and pushes you, to which you roll on the grass. “Didn’t I tell you already to quit calling me that? It makes me feel really old.”

“Oh come on, it’s basically what you’re doing, you shouldn’t feel offended. You’re just really good at being a mom.”

“I’ll punch you.”

“Sorry, captain.”

“That’s more like it.”

There’s a second of comfortable silence between you two. You take the time to stretch and she yawns. The wind howls and the strands of grass stand up in unison. Saerom’s skin shivers, she tries to make herself smaller, clinching her legs together, and hugging her chest, and you can see goosebumps on her arms. You give her your jacket, it wasn’t as thick but at least she wouldn’t have to wake up the next day with a cold.

Saerom turns with a surprised expression when you put it on your shoulders. Her big eyes as round as her lips, mouthing an ‘oh’. She offers you a grateful smile and slips her arms into the sleeves, snuggling into the oversized jacket.

She almost looks like your girlfriend. Almost.

“I know I’ve talked about myself for a while but how about you? Have you been resting? Like how the coach told you—how everyone told you?” Saerom asks you not in a curious way but with more of a scolding tone.

You chuckle and rub your head. She already asked you this question before and you already gave her the same answer that you were going to give her now: “Uhm, actually no.” You couldn’t lie to her, she would’ve taken the truth out of you in five minutes or less.

“I already told you! You rascal!” Saerom pushes you with her shoulder. “You’re gonna faint or something.”

“I know, I know…” you say. “But I just can’t stay still, I have to keep myself busy.” You turn around to see if Saerom is being even a little understanding but you can only see her furrowed eyebrows on her stare of disappointment. “Well, actually,” you point your index at her, “Shouldn’t you also be resting?”

“Me?!”

“Yeah, you. Didn’t you sprain your ankle a couple of days ago?” you ask with a big smug plastered on your face.

“W-well, my coach wouldn’t have taught me the new choreo if the injury was that serious right? I think I’m perfectly fine.”

“Did she know about the ankle?”

“No…”

“See?!”

“Besides, it doesn’t even hurt anymore!” Saerom tells you. “You were the one taping it for me. It doesn’t hurt a single bit.”

“Whatever you say…”

You both giggle. If you wanted to, both of you could come up with endless excuses all night long without getting tired. It was helpless, you knew it.

Saerom sighs for the second time this night. “It’s been kinda hectic these days, hasn’t it?”

You hum.

“It’s just that a lot has been happening all at once. I need a break.”

You think for a moment and get an idea. There was a bowling alley 5 minutes from the park. It wasn’t the best place—just a cheap option for kids that want to skip school or just a good stop to have a chat. But it opened very late and it’d be a good place to pay a visit right now.

“Hey, wanna go to the bowling?”

“What? Bowling?”

“Yeah, the one near the ice cream shop, it’s pretty close.”

“But I don’t have any money on me—”

“I’m gonna pay for your ticket, don’t worry. Consider it a gift.”

“Oh, w-well thank you…” Saerom can barely speak that you have already stood up and taken your hand. You give her a quick “let’s go” and guide her to the place. She follows you without complaint. You take confident and quick steps but have to slow down to match Saerom’s pace. You walk by her side and listen to her rambling about her days.

Saerom’s beauty under the contrasting lights of the moon and the street lights looks artificial. You often space out, just observing her eyes, angular and mesmerizing—they’re so captivating and expressive that you can make out whatever she was saying by just observing the movement of her eyelids. Her smooth skin beautifully glow and you simply can’t look away.

She catches you looking more than once. Saerom would turn around, see your enchanted gaze, understand that it was because of her, and then hide her embarrassed smile away. After a while, she’d forget that happened, talk again, turn around again, and it’d happen again.

You arrive at the bowling alley later than you should have because you wanted to hear more of her voice and she wanted to be beside you as much as possible.

The dimly lit, retro-themed bowling alley was bathed in a nostalgic glow. Neon lights flickered, casting multicolored shadows on the vintage arcade games lining the walls. The place has been opened for a very long time, it wasn’t ‘vintage before’, maybe just a little nostalgic but with time, it gained that new adjective.

You pay for the tickets, and go to the lanes.

“You know, I’ve never been any good at bowling,” Saerom confesses as she sets her uncertain hands on the bowling balls. “I tried it only once or twice when I was younger.”

“It will be fine. I don’t think it’s difficult.” “You don’t think?" Saerom asks you. “Have you played this before?”

“Well…,” you start, stressing the syllable, “does Mii Sport count?”

Saerom laughs. You love how organic and sincere her laughter is. It’s uncomposed, a bunch of hiccups of air messily stacked together, bouncing between high yelps and low giggles. It’s because you don’t judge her and because she doesn’t have to act as if there was a camera or microphone recording her.

“I swear I was the absolute best at it,” you laugh. “I always strike.”

“Yeah, and I bet all the miis were cheering for you right?” Saerom jokes.

“Exactly. Exactly. It was standing ovations all night.”

You each select a bowling ball. Saerom already knows how to put the fingers in the holes and has to spend a couple of seconds showing you how to hold the ball.

She’s the first one to throw. She positions herself with her left hand extended in front. She takes small steps as she aims for the foul line. She backswings the ball behind her and releases the ball smoothly. She keeps her eyes on the target pin, the ball spins and spins until it reaches the right side and knocks down half of the pins.

She turns around with a surprised smile, her lips half closed. “That wasn’t half bad.”

“No, it was good. It was good.”

The machine clicks and springs as it puts back each and every pin.

“Now, it’s my turn.” You aim for the center pin and mimic Saerom’s movements. You throw the ball, it spins a little, and it ends up in the corner, hitting nothing.

Saerom chuckles.

“You really lost your touch huh?”

“I—the oil made me slip, yeah the oil. It happens all the time.”

Saerom stops her laughter to raise an eyebrow at your ridiculous remarks. She points an accusing finger at you. “First of all, the oil is only on the lanes, there was no way, you could have slipped here. Second, you don’t even play bowling. You’re a liar.”

“We—well, it—I’m just not a regular player.”

“You don’t play at all.”

“That’s what I’m saying,” you say and shrug your shoulders. “Besides, that was just a warm-up. Your turn now.”

Saerom picks up her ball, taking her time to line up her shot. You were convinced she must have played it way more than just ‘once or twice’ when she was young. By the way she was moving, it was like she already developed her style, with a small hop before releasing the ball. It rolls gracefully down the lane and strucks the pins with precision. And… a perfect strike. Were you even surprised at that point?

The crash of the pins echoes through the alley, and Saerom raises her arms in triumph. “Did you see that? You saw that, right?”

You applaud her, genuinely impressed. The lonely sounds of your clapping and her high-pitched screams bounce around the walls of the alley. Only accompanied by the mechanical sound of the re-pinning machines. “Okay, okay, I understand now,” you say.

The game continues, and you two go back and forth between her impressive throws and your miserable attempts.

You go again, your eyes locked on the pins. You had to take down at least half. Or a fourth. At least. You release the ball with precision and it sails down the lane, knocking down all but one pin. You clench your fist as you hear Saerom’s excited clapping.

Saerom steps up for her final turn, her heart pounding with excitement. She knows that she needs a strike to win. She takes a deep breath, focuses on the pins, and sends the ball down the lane with all her might. Your and her eyes follow the ball, all the way down. It hits the pocket perfectly, knocking all of them down.

She jumps for joy, her victory assured.

You exchange high-fives and congratulate her. Usually in movies and shows, it’d be the guy that had to fake his lack of skills to make the girl win. Saerom, however, did it all herself.

“So what did I win?” she asks, her voice trembling from the rapid breaths she takes, the excitement still running in her veins.

“I already paid your ticket, come on.”

“Alright, you’re right. Let’s say I won my ticket.”

You were turning to leave with Saerom but as you moved, your head cast a shadow against the strong light of the two arcade machines in the corner, creating a stunning silhouette that glowed with a warm, golden hue.

Saerom's smile gradually fades, her gaze fixed on you. She watches as a radiant halo seemed to envelop you, and the time around her slow down. Saerom observes your eyes connecting with hers, a broad grin on your lips that sent a nervous flutter through her.

Unexpectedly, her shoe slipped. It should have been a minor mishap, but Saerom's mind was too preoccupied with the image of you in this new light. She stumbles forward with a force that might have left her with a bloody nose if it weren't for your swift reflexes.

In a matter of seconds, you were right in front of her, both arms securely around her waist, preventing her from taking a tumble. Well, at least preventing most of it.

Saerom's chin rests against your shoulder as she caught her breath, her hands gripping your biceps tightly. Your fragrance envelopes her senses, and she can't help but become acutely aware of how her body was pressed against yours.

You gently pull back to meet her eyes, raising a hand to sweep the stray, disheveled strands of hair behind Saerom's ear. "Hey, are you okay?"

A blush creeps up Saerom's cheeks, and the touch of your fingers against her skin sends a shiver down her spine. The breath seems to escape her lungs as she lifts her head, bringing her nose tantalizingly close to yours.

For a moment, there was silence, a moment where your eyes locked onto hers, and Saerom could hear the sound of her own heartbeat.

"Yeah, never been better," she finally manages to reply, her voice filled with warmth and affection.

It might have been the third time this week she found herself enchanted by your image. She has lived long enough to understand that the cause of all of this was her heart. It was your fault.

As you walked her back to her dorm, she kept stealing glances at you. Maybe this was the right occasion, in the silence of the night, with no witnesses.

“Hey,” Saerom calls your attention.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you for today.”

“Oh, it’s no problem.”

“And thank you for always,” she says. “You always take care of me, even for the stupidest things.”

“You do the same with me Saerom,” you chuckle. “If it wasn’t for you, I’d always skip lunch. You cook for me almost every week. You might as well become a cook.”

She laughs and turns her eyes down. When she raises her head again, you see that there’s more in her eyes, she wasn’t just thanking you.

The way you look at her feels like a magnetic pull, like a strong current drawing her in. When your fingers brush against her, it's as if all the barriers she's put up are suddenly crumbling. She can’t look at you in the eyes and she hugs you. "I think I'm starting to have feelings for you," she blurts out, and you react with wide-eyed surprise.

You stand there, stunned for a moment, your grip on her waist loosening slightly as you stammer, "I, um, what?"

Saerom just shrugs and bites her lip, avoiding eye contact. "I've never felt like this when I'm with anyone else. It's kind of frustrating."

Your response has a hint of shyness for the first time. "But I wouldn't want it any other way."

Taking a shaky breath, you let her words sink in. Despite all the playful flirting, you've never let yourself hope that she might feel the same way you do. Saerom has always been guarded, keeping her emotions locked away, and you're happy just being her friend. Even though your heart secretly wants more, that friendship is enough.

“I can truly be myself around you and… it’s so liberating. Whether I have a bad day or a good one, I just want to see you.”

With your bodies pressed close, you suddenly become hyper-aware of the situation. You notice how tightly she's holding onto you, how close your faces are. Maybe you aren't just friends after all.

It's only when a long silence hangs in the air that Saerom shakes her head and says, "Just forget I said anything."

Instinctively, you reach out and hold onto her hand as she tries to pull away. "I feel the same way."

Her eyes meet yours, searching for any sign of dishonesty, and you can see a different kind of vulnerability in her gaze, a hope for love mixed with fear of rejection.

"I really do," you say in a hushed tone, gently tracing her cheek with your hand, giving her a chance to pull away. When your touch meets her skin, her eyes close in a moment of sheer happiness, and she leans into your hand. It’s reassuring.

“Sorry, this isn’t exactly romantic, for you to confess to me in this wet street…”

“What are you saying, silly? I don’t care about that.” Saerom whispers, her words carrying a weight of genuine affection.

Saerom gave you a peck on the cheek, just to seal the deal. She was still very shy.

“Well, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah.”

You wave at her, with sluggish movements caused by your momentary awkwardness and embarrassment. She exchanges a small wave and enters the dorm. You can hear her shoes rapidly step on the stairs, she was running. You let out the sigh you’ve been holding on until now and make your way back home. Maybe you’ll rest. So Saerom doesn’t get mad at you.

THE END

Written, 31 October 2023 - 02 November 2023

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