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planetkiimchi · 2 months

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4 in the morning | h.gh

featuring: hendery x gn!reader

summary — fishing in the woods with hendery. that’s it. that’s the post.

word count: 664 words

author's note: i wanted to write this for jaemin originally, but hendery posted (x), and who am i to deny the temptation of writing for my beloved? also, this was orginally inspired by my trip to the park with a few family friends, and we went to the docks and i saw some signs on sustainable fishing and just thought i wanted to write something domestic about fishing. hope y’all like the brainrot.

p.s. if anyone wants to hear about “the language of thorns’ by leigh bardugo and how i’m unconsciously heavily influenced by ya authors… i’ll be waiting for you.

p.p.s. (yes i have a lot of thoughts what about it) here is a worship song rec for anyone who's christian, gratitude - brandon lake. i first heard this song last tuesday and it fits this vibe well so here you go!

The silver specks of moving creatures slipping past the gentle sway of the waves caught your eye, the tiny fish glittering under the hints of the rising sun’s rays. A breeze blew, taking with it the remnants of the morning dew growing too heavy for the delicate green leaves of the plants that littered the forest floor.

The nature reserve hummed with bright energy, feeding off the thrum of all the precious animals protected within its enclave. There was little threat here to the lives of those who sought shelter beneath the towering trees, and you found solace in the cool shade that accompanied the beginnings of the day.

There was a rustle beside you, and you turned to see Hendery standing there, feet moving surely amidst the grass. The second and third buttons of his shirt were fastened, and the wind played with his collar, the part of his shirt that was left free billowing out in the wind.

He took his place beside you, atop that small plank of wood that served as a seat, both of your feet dangling just above the river. He cast his rod into the stream, sending splashes and ripples dancing across the surface of the water.

The forest brimmed with newfound energy as the sun rose in the sky, a backlit glow casting the barest of shadows on Hendery’s face. His lips lifted as something tugged on his fishing rod, and he lifted it to inspect the fish he had caught.

“Barbodes rhombeus,” he murmurs, and you hastily draw a line in the column for that fish in the journal he’s taught you to keep.

It’s not often that you catch new species of fish, so catching this particular barb for the fifth time this week shouldn’t be disappointing.

Yet, the corners of your lips droop ever-so-slightly when you catch sight of the familiar silver glinting off its scales, wishing something more exciting would happen.

Hendery measures the length of the fish, saying it aloud for you to record, and releases it back into the stream. It wriggles off happily, glad not to have been kept in captivity.

Silence descends upon the clearing once more as Hendery attaches new bait to the hook and tosses it back into the river, leaving the two of you to watch the water and wait for another fish to bite.

Tired, you lay your head upon his lap, his body shielding you from the light as you stare up at his chin, counting the seconds between each measured blink of his. He swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing, and you nuzzle slightly into him, enchanted by the familiar scent of his clothing detergent.

Like your mother would say, tā yǒu tàiyáng de wèidào—he bears the scent of the sun. Perhaps it’s the way the sun has seeped into his tanned skin, calling the melatonin to its surface, or the way he hangs his clothes to dry just before midday, when the sun’s rays are the strongest. Either way, it rolls off his clothes like the curl of a surfer’s favourite waves, not sunkissed, but sun-dried.

“Y/n,” he whispers. “Y/n, love, I’ve caught something.”

You sit up in habitual excitement, eyes twinkling with curiosity as he pulls this fish out of the water. It’s both heavier and larger than the previous ones you’ve caught, and Hendery doesn’t identify it immediately.

“Channa gachua, I believe,” he says. “A new one for the collection.”

Happiness bubbles up inside your heart like a pot of milk on the stove, glad that there is finally something new gracing the pages of the journal. You write its name down in the book as Hendery spells it aloud, and draw a neat, dark line next to it.

The warmth spreads through your fingers, your limbs slowly finding life after the hours of biding your time in the woods, sleeping on the forest floor overnight in order to start fishing earlier.

Your patience has finally paid off, and as you glance at the look of concentration on Hendery’s face and the slippery fish he’s cradling in his hands, you think that even hundreds of hours would make this memory worth it.

notes:

*Barbodes rhombeus (Indochinese Spotted Barb) is a small, light greenish brown to silver species of fish that occurs in the Chao Phraya river basin in Thailand, and the huge Mekong river system.

*the 汉字 (hànzì, chinese characters) for tā yǒu tàiyáng de wèidào is 他有太阳的味道

*Channa gachua (Dwarf snakehead) is a species of fish with a maximum length of 18-36 cm, and its body is typically brown to blue-grey, with blue fins, with a red border. It is native to freshwater habitats in southern Asia, where it has a wide distribution from Iran to Indonesia.