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hyucksong · 4 years

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come on saturday afternoons, when it’s golden hour.| lee donghyuck

summary: Falling in love for a decade with a boy who’s as confusing as could be may be a mistake, but you’re too distracted by his nimble fingers making poisonous flower crowns and his golden honey-like skin to care. He seems too busy looking bitterly at the moon to forget to stop leading you on, too. So all is fair.

word count: 10.0k words

warnings: angsty and talks about insecurity and lowkey obsession with a person

a/n: by the way; haechan is called two different names in this. he’s called “donghyuck” when he’s thinking about himself and when y/n talks, thinks, or references him. he’s called “haechan” when it’s one of his other friends interacting with him, and also by y/n towards the end. it’s meant to signify the distance she puts between him and herself.

///

Donghyuck is the son of the golden hour. He has to be, you think, because there is no one that embodies the epitome of sun-kissed beauty as well as he does. You are a witness to this ethereal beauty because you’ve spent your whole life living next to him.

It’s funny, his house emits the same beauty he does. The way the vines are overgrown in the prettiest way, running over the window sills and growing into the muted yellow-painted wooden paneling. The way the cracks on the sidewalk leading up to his humble abode are filled with yearning budding flowers instead of cement and milkweed. Even the sculptures on the pathway to his house are covered in beautiful vines that wrap themselves around the bodies of the solid stone art, silently suffocating their inanimate figures. To most, that may seem dull, but nothing related to Lee Donghyuck could be dull to you. In some strange way, you saw the beauty in his beat-down and poorly taken-care-of yard.

You remember the first time you met him, a decade ago, when you walked past your chatting parents into his yard. It was golden hour then, too, you recall, because you remember the orange light soaking your memory’s walls. You walked up to the kneeling boy with caramel skin; he was picking flowers from the ground in the farthest corner of the house lot, the only place the ugly flowers sprouted. It was a corner shrouded in dark shadow and it was noticeably a few degrees cooler there. Every once in a while, before he moved in, you’d pass by the old house and stare at the corner, feeling a somber feeling come over you. But somehow the boy lit the area up, warms streams of light flooding the previously cold patch.

He was picking weeds, lacing them together into a wicked flower crown. He paid no mind to your mud-stained sneakers stopping in front of him, he only continued on with his actions.

“You know those are bad for you, right?” The young boy stopped his movements, looking up at you for the first time. You immediately took note of his dark brown eyes with flecks of amber in them, almost getting mesmerized by their still gaze.

His eyes scanned you, not really caring. He automatically went back to his poisonous flower crown, causing an uneasy feeling to stir within you. “I know.”

Silence ensued, making the air feel suffocating. Despite his cold shoulder, you sat down next to him in the patch of mud by his side, not daring to cross onto the patch of grass he sad comfortable on. He seemed surprised but quickly went back to his indifferent facade, scooting away from you.

Hours passed as he made more and more flower crowns, and you simply watched. There was no conversation between you both, only a mutually appreciated quietness. It was when there was no warmth left of the sun, and instead, there was only the biting chilly air of the moon that nipped at your skin, did he finally speak again.

“Don’t you think the flower crowns are pretty?” He asked, his head tilted to the side as he held one out to you. You saw the intricate interweaving of the milkweed stems with one another, not even the hairy peach fuzz took away from the delicate-looking crown. You nodded vigorously, hoping to please him. And you did, because he offered you one of the many he made before getting up and looking at the sky.

“The moon is kind of ugly, don’t you think?” You looked up at him, surprised at his randomness. But, you paid no mind to it, opting to simply stare at how his nose scrunched at the sight of the glowing orb in the sky.

“Yeah.” No, you didn’t. You loved the moon, the way it shone beautifully. The moon was subtle beauty. Donghyuck (his parents told you his name) was obvious, infinite beauty. But you wanted to please him.

He smiled a little, “Cool. We agree.” You awkwardly shifted on your feet, only giving him a tight-lipped smile. He didn’t even show you out of his yard, and he walked up the steps to his house that had warm orange lights illuminating the bushes in front of the windows softly. Not knowing what to do, you stood in place, watching him walked gracefully closer to the door.

Before he fully stepped in, he looked back at you with an emotion that you could never fully recall, speaking in a strangely authoritative voice, “Come back tomorrow and actually help me make some flower crowns. At golden hour.”

You went back the next day. And the day after that, and the week after that, and the month after that. Years passed and you’d still regularly meet with him in the back of his yard on warm Saturday afternoons. You never interacted with him outside of those times, and you were content with that. As you passed him in the school halls, only you would know the sacred time you spent together. You loved it because it was like having a little piece of him just to yourself.

You were eight then. You still had the milkweed flower crown, just now it was pressed into a glass frame that hung across from the foot of your bed.

///

When your legs started growing a little longer, and you noticed changes to your body that hadn’t been apparent before, you were eleven. You only realized you were going through puberty because the little patch of hair that started to grow under your arms, and the way you crinkled your nose when you sweated, the smell unfamiliar.

Some would call you a late bloomer, but you’d disagree. Late bloomers didn’t fall in love early. Late bloomers didn’t spend their days counting the freckles on Donghyuck’s nose -- late bloomers didn’t love so strongly. You told your friend that you thought Donghyuck was cute, and she laughed at you, muttering how he looked like a pumpkin with his chubby face. You frowned, reminding yourself to get new friends who were nicer. (She was the same friend who told you years later that he was light-years out of your league.)

Donghyuck still seemed to be stuck in his elementary school days, his baby fat still sticking to him cutely. You found it endearing, the way you had to look down at him when you talked with him in the cool corner of his backyard. You didn’t mind being taller than him, it gave you the perfect view of his eyelashes casting shadows against his golden skin.

“Can you stop staring at me and actually do something?” He sneered playfully, sighing dramatically and placing his nearly-finished flower crown on his knee. The surface layer skin was broken, little pellets of blood pooling. He had fallen at school, the mulch on the school playground rather unforgiving.

“Geez, sorry.” You muttered back, a small smile spreading across your face. You pick back up your flowers, interweaving the leave with delicate motions, careful not to break the bonds. It was silent again, the only sounds the ones of the leaves rustling as the sun dove under the horizon.

These were the moments you treasured with him. The ones where neither of you spoke and the sun would quietly dip under the horizon. The moments where you could stare freely as he paid no mind to you, off in his own little world.

“Haechan!” A voice called from inside. You both looked up, stopping your ministrations. His mom walked out of the backyard door, a bright smile taking your attention. “Your friends are here!” With the mention of those words, the temperature dropped. You tilted your head in question and glanced at him, confused. “It’s Saturday? I thought we were hanging out today?” The words seemed to swim past his ears. Hastily, he stood up, his hand reaching for yours. The burn of his skin on yours was enjoyable but it didn’t last, because he suddenly started to shove you out of the back fence. You watched as his pearl white sneakers stepped on the flower crown you were working on, the white blood of the flower spilling out, soaking the dirt beneath it.

The image of him stepping on your hard work caused your eyes to well up, your bottom lip started to quiver.

“Hurry and -- What? Why are you crying?” You wish you could say you heard care in his voice, but it felt more like you were an annoyance, like you were a problem to be dealt with. You shook your head, not giving him an answer. He groaned, quickly looking back at the silhouettes of his ‘friends’ in the window. His eyes analyzed the yard, grabbing the first thing laying next to your shoe on the ground and shoving it into your chest.

“Here, have this. I got to go. See you later.” And like that, Lee Donghyuck shoved an enormous hoodie in your hands that still hung in your closet. It was so big back then that you could wear it as a dress, but now it fits like a large sweatshirt. Even after all these years, it still smells like the freshly cut grass from back then.

///

Donghyuck always had a habit of flicking his thumb and pointer finger against each other when he was nervous. You didn’t notice it until you were in your Freshmen year of high school, age fourteen, and he got called by the teacher to stay after class and talk to her.

He nodded, and for the whole hour, his leg was bouncing up and down. You decided to stay after and take a little longer to pack your things up before school let out for the day. After the bell rang and the students poured out the single door, rushing to get to the buses, he got up shakily from his spot behind you.

You didn’t know why he didn’t sit next to you, you distinctly remember patting the seat next to you on the first day of class, but he just moved past your seat to the row behind you. He sat down with Jeno, a boy you recall was on the swim team. At least he sat behind you, you thought.

“Did you cheat on your test, Mr.Lee?”

Your eyes snapped up to look at the expression on his face. You frowned at his stuttering lip. “N-No.”

She raised an unconvinced brow, “Oh, really? Then why does your short answer look exactly like Ms. L/n Y/n?”

You saw his fingers start to move, anxiously flicking each other as he thought up a lie. You felt bad because you had told him he could cheat off of you before class; you knew he didn’t get much sleep the night before due to the soccer team practicing late that day.

Shoving your binder into your bag, you quickly zipped up the large pocket and headed over to the teacher's desk, a shy smile on your lips. She was unimpressed by your interruption, opting to glare at you. “Yes, Ms. L/n?”

“I’m sorry Mrs.Kim, but I heard you accusing Donghyuck of cheating,” she frowned at your choice of words, “and I’d just like to say, that it wasn’t him who cheated.”

A scoff left her red lips, and you couldn’t help but notice the wearing of the cherry red lipstick in the middle of her mouth. “That’s very cute of you, Ms. L/n. But he cheated off of you, I graded the papers.”

Donghyuck’s wide eyes stared at you, waiting for your next move. His fingers were still flicking each other rapidly, but his gaze was different. It looked like he was depending on you. Like he needed you.

“Sorry Mrs.Kim, but I was the one who cheated off of him.”

She didn’t buy it for a minute, “How? He sits behind you.”

Your eyes did a quick scan of the room, hoping to find something, anything, that could prove your lie. That’s when your eyes found a mirror hanging in the wall buy your seat. You fought your smile, “Well, I looked through the mirror next to me.” The teacher’s head snapped to the reflection of you three standing at her desk. “I learned to read backward in seventh grade for a science project.” It was true.

With a huff, she quickly grabbed a red pen and wrote a big ‘0′ on your paper before dismissing you both to go home. She left after mumbling things to herself, something about “bratty kids”.

The classroom was completely empty, the sun was dipping under the horizon again, a little early this time. It was daylight savings time, you remembered.

“Hey,” A smooth voice let out. You looked behind you, tearing your attention away from the golden light pouring in through the windows and at the handsome smile on Donghyuck’s face. His baby fat disappeared, his shoulders got wider, and his legs grew longer. But he still had that same breath-taking smile he always did.

“Yes?”

“Thanks. I’ll be more careful next time.” You recognized a playful tone, you nodded and giggled at him. “Please do that. I don’t think my mom will be very happy about the zero for a test grade.” He flung his black backpack over his shoulder and stuck one of his hands in the front pocket of his jeans.

“See you on Saturday.” He let his hand gently grab your shoulder, before letting it fall and trail down to your hand. He gave it one squeeze before walking away, not sparing you a single glance. Your hand burned at his warm, golden touch.

You didn’t mind taking the blame, because he let you see a little part of him no one else noticed. It was an eye for an eye, you told yourself.

///

You were sixteen and hated parties. They always reminded you of some bad teen movie where the girl’s heart gets broken and the boy watches as she goes to someone else to console herself from his memory. But Donghyuck’s strange persistence was new to you, and you happily obliged to go.

“Y/n, are you going to the party at Jaemin’s tonight?” You quirked a brow playfully at the busy boy, smiling. “What do you think? Hyuck, I’ve never talked to the guy. I don’t know anyone who’s going to be there.”

“Errnt. Wrong -- you know me.” He replied, a smile adorning his features as he tilted his head and closed his eyes childishly. You rolled your eyes, sitting back in your place on the white table set his mom had recently bought, stating, “You two are too old to be sitting on the grass and getting your pants dirty.”

“And you want me to go this time, why?” Donghyuck proceeded to put down his fifth flower crown and place his chin between his thumb and forefinger, thinking. “Hmmm, Oh, I don’t know -- because you’re my best friend and I want to take you places?”

Your fingers stopped moving, the plant temporarily forgotten as you stared, shocked, at an unnoticing Donghyuck. “W-What?” He had never called you his best friend before. Hell, he’d never called you his friend before. Some may have taken that as strange, but you considered it a weird aspect of your friendship. But hearing the words leave his pretty pink heart-shaped lips wasn’t good for your heart rate.

“What?” He shrugged, reaching over the table to push your forehead back with his pointer finger. “You didn’t think we were friends? After eight years?” You shook your head, a smile breaking onto your face. “No, it’s nothing. When do you need me to be there?”

“On second thought, can you pick me up with you? At eight tonight? Oh, and bring your polaroid -- I wanna take pictures.”

That was how you were standing outside, your yellow polaroid around your neck as the flies buzzed around your red solo-cupped drink. From the smell, you were sure it was vodka. You crinkled your nose and dumped it on the owner’s lawn. Sorry, not sorry.

Donghyuck said he’d meet you out on the barren back patio at nine, reassuring you that you could manage on your own for an hour and that he just wanted to say hi to some people and get a little alcohol in his system. You didn’t have the strength to tell him you didn’t care about his need for some illegal product -- you just wanted to go home -- so you nodded and agreed to wait.

But considering the weather forecast stated that it was supposed to reach forty degrees by nine, your decision wasn’t the best. You sat on the concrete ledge, butt cold and snuggling into your hoodie that Haechan had given you so long ago.

When your lungs got sore from the cold air, you buried your nose in the warm hoodie. It still smelled like him even after all this time.

“Ditched, I’m guessing?” A pair of vans with black straight-legged jeans appeared next to you, and you couldn't help the jolt that left your body. A laugh sounded, “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.” A boy you recognized as Jaemin, the host, sat next to you, a half-full red solo cup in his ring-covered hand.

“Oh, It’s...okay. You didn’t scare me. I was just thinking.” You shifted away from him, not too familiar with Donghyuck’s friends. His latter words popped into your head again, “and no, I didn’t get ditched. I’m here with...someone”. He noticed your pause and grinned, letting his gaze drop to the grass blades beneath his feet. “Relax, I’m not going to try anything.” He rested his arms and head on his knees that were near his chest.

“I didn’t think you were.” You assured. A silence that made your skin crawl ensued, but the attractive boy didn’t leave. “So,” he bobbed his head and looked around the yard, “who did you come with?”

“Donghyuck.” You answered, lifting the red cup to your lips, only to find that there was nothing there and awkwardly placing it down by your feet. “Donghyuck?” He questioned, “You mean Haechan, right? Lee?” You nodded, rolling your eyes slightly. “His real name is Donghyuck.” You scolded yourself for giving him any sass, poor guy probably just wanted to talk to someone. Though, you thought, there were plenty more interesting people inside the house where the heat was on rather than outside in the biting weather.

“...Yeah...” Jaemin mused, his eyes narrowing, “I know. I’ve known him since we were eleven.” This surprised you, and you whipped your head around to him. “Oh?”

“Yeah, I still remember going over to his house once and going into his backyard and there were a bunch of flower crowns everywhere. Not gonna lie, we poked fun at him for it -- ‘we’ being me, Jeno and Renjun -- it was light-hearted, though. But, turns out they were made by some ‘freak that lived next door that sneaked into the yeard.’ He quoted with his fingers, not paying any mind to the look that crossed your features.

Freak? Did he think you were a freak?

“How long have you known him?” He broke you out of your racing thoughts. “Oh, um, since we were eight. I’m his, uh, neighbor.” A startled wince appeared on his face as he muttered out an ‘oh’ and scratched his neck. “Sorry, I didn’t know.”

“It’s fine, I’m sure he was just playing.” Another round of silence and you were sure that the cinnamon-haired boy was going to leave, but he stayed. He was warm, probably from being inside, and it radiated off him onto you. It was nice, having someone sit next to you, for once. You supposed Na Jaemin wasn’t too annoying.

“So, how do you know Haechan? Like did you date or...?” His shoulders bumped into yours playfully and you avoided eye contact, hoping he didn’t see your blush from his prying. “No, we never dated, I’m his...” You stopped.

“I’m his...” you trailed off again, not really knowing what to call it. But, recalling his words from earlier, a giddy grin lifted the corners of your lips upwards. “Best friend. I’m his best friend.” Jaemin rose a brow and laughed, “It’s the first time I’ve ever heard about you...?”

“Y/n.” You gave him a tight smile, not knowing what else to say.

“Y/n.” He repeated, smiling. “That’s a beautiful name.” A hand came down to pat your arm, and it felt strangely comforting. “Thanks,” you glanced at him one last time, “Jaemin.” A breathtaking smile erupted from you saying his name, and it made you a little happier, too.

The atmosphere was idyllic, unusually so, because you honestly thought that you’d be spending most of the night alone. Looking at Jaemin, he was more of a cool boy, opposite of Donghyuck. Jaemin was like the night, in a sense. Cool, mysterious, yet open like the black sky. There was nothing to be afraid of with him. He wasn’t quite as smooth as honey and he wasn’t quite as enrapturing as the love of your life. But, he was warm in a way Donghyuck wasn’t.

But before your mind could wander more, a familiar silhouette of Donghyuck was cast onto the green backyard. It belonged to the drunken boy who stood in the doorway, a suave smile on his lips. Jaemin hesitated before ruffling the hair on your head and whispering, “Be careful.” in your ear before getting up to leave, grabbing Haechan’s shoulder and sharing a look with him briefly before heading inside. One last pitiful look and he was gone.

“What was that about?” You asked, leaning back on your arms to gaze at the glowing boy standing above you. He looked down at you and smiled. “Nothing, just reminding me to do something...or not to do something, I guess.”

“Let me guess, you’re not going to listen to him?” The boy’s expected nod made you laugh and shake your head, “You know me so well.”

“I know I do. I had to deal with you for eight years.”

“You deal with me? Isn’t it the other way around?” You were about to quip back when you remembered what Jaemin had said earlier about Donghyuck calling you a freak, and your voice died in your throat. Carelessly, he sat next to you, one beautiful hand threading through his hair. Donghyuck wasn’t looking at you, instead, he seemed to be glancing at his watch and swirling the smelly drink around in his cup. You could tell because you heard the sloshing.

“Anyway,” you cleared your throat, “why did you want me to bring my camera?” The boy’s eyes lit up and he smiled that heart smile of his that created daylight even in the middle of the darkest of nights.

“I realized that we didn’t have any pictures together, and I kind of wanted to take some.” You scoffed, he was never one for sentimentality. “Uh-huh, that’s totally the reason why.”

“Fine, you got me,” He giggled, “Mom wants to make a scrapbook for your mom’s birthday coming up. She thought it’d only make sense to have both of us in it, but I had no pictures to give her when she asked for them, so.” He shrugged, “I’m killing one bird with one stone.”

“That’s not how the saying goes, Hyuck.”

“I know, I’m not dumb.”

“Whatever, let’s just take the pictures so I can take us both back home.” This elicited a whine from Haechan and he plopped his head on your shoulder, making you go stiff. “I don’t wanna go yet~!” It was probably just you feeling guilty, or maybe it was his breath on your neck, but you agreed to take him home later. You could stay outside.

“Let’s take the pictures now! I’m keeping people waiting inside.”

“O-Okay.” You stuttered out, scooting closer to him. You still stopped a few inches apart from him and angled your polaroid to snatch a picture, but the boy chuckled and encircled his arm around your waist. He moved closer and placed his other hand on your face to squish your cheeks together, making a silly fish face. “Let’s make them cute for our moms.”

He posed you three other times, one with his legs over your lap and your laughter showing through the overexposed pictures, one with you both stroking your chins in 1940s detective style, and one where you two were playfully staring into each other’s eyes, in a staring contest. After that last one, you shyly told Hyuck that you couldn’t take any more because you didn’t want to waste your film, but really it was because you weren’t sure how much more your heart could take with all his golden goodness.

“Yeah, yeah -- one more.” He pouted, “Please?” You sighed and nodded slowly, secretly loving the way he giggled and clung to your loose arm like an excited kid.

“Okay, pose me, pose-master.” You dropped your arm to your sides, waiting for him to work his magic. He nodded and took your camera. “Hey -- ”

“Oh, hush, I’m taking the picture this time.” You glanced nervously at his carefree hand holding the polaroid but nodded again. “Okay, please don’t drop it.”

It was his turn to roll his eyes, “Of course, your highness.” A giggle escaped your mouth and you motioned for him to continue, but he simply moved even closer to you than before. Your heart rate was through the roof but you remained still and let him do his thing; but, after all the shuffling, he made no move to move you, instead, he put his face right in front of yours.

Wide-eyed, your eyes shot down to his lips before stuttering out, “W-What’re you doing?”

He put his finger against your mouth, effectively shushing you as you weren’t used to his warm honey skin touching yours. “This picture isn’t for mom. It’s for us.” You could practically feel his whisper on your lips. His slender fingers brushed back a piece of your hair, slowly tucking it behind your red ears. “Wow, your ears are so red,” he whispered, letting his palm completely cup your face.

Before you could ask what he was doing, his lips pushed onto yours. His metal rings burned your hot skin as they slid past your face and he cradled your neck, pushing your lips deeper into his. It was feverish. Deliciously so.

Words couldn’t describe your feelings. It felt like a dream -- a dream you’ve had since you were eight. His honey-sweet lips on yours, stealing your first kiss. One hand moving from your neck to resting beside your leg as he leans in to caress you with his kiss. His warm breath fanning against your lips, you breathing in his scent that wafted off his clothes in the cold moonlit night. It was beautiful. It was saccharine. It was like candy.

It was addicting.

Then the camera flashed. And you awoke out of your dreamlike state as he parted from you, not noticing as you trailed after him, wiping your mouth as a thin string of spit connected you both. He didn’t look at you as it came out of the camera, he simply gently shook the picture and stared as it developed, sucking on his bottom lip in impatience. Once it did, you managed to catch a look; and it was ethereal. The light captured your red ears and softly interlocked lips, and Donghyuck’s collarbones, somehow, caught the camera light. His cheeks were red, and so were his ears, but they were so faint you’d have to squint.

“Donghyuck --” You started, eyes shimmering as you turned towards him, about to ask him about the sweet kiss. There was a pool of hope growing in your stomach, bubbling like boiling sugar -- but it all drained as you saw his expression. Indifference. He looked at you like he always did, and his red flush was gone, the only evidence of your doings left on his lips as they swelled. The magical atmosphere seemed to diminish in thin air, and suddenly the cold was very apparent again. The wind picked up.

“It looks too blurry...but it’ll do.” With that, he half-shrugged and pocketed the picture, ignoring your shocked eyes as a corner of the picture began to dog-ear from being nonchalantly shoved into his jeans.

“I’m going to get some more vodka, I’m not drunk enough.” And he got up and left, just like that. No explanation. Nothing. But you didn’t need his words to understand that he didn’t mean the kiss like you wanted him to mean it. You just didn’t know what he meant by it.

Not knowing his exact reason was what acted as bait, your heart was getting tugged by his hook. You were still ensnared by this glowing boy.

Even with the tears welling in your eyes and your heart pounding painfully against your ribcage, you still smiled. It was a painful smile, but it was a smile.

Donghyuck had kissed you. You. That had to mean something, hadn’t it? You pocketed that shred of hope, holding it close to your heart as tears fell from your eyes. They were happy tears. They had to be. The love of your life had just kissed you, no one else. You.

Your tears seemed to shimmer in the patio light: they were a golden color as they rolled down your face and off your chin. They fell into a grass blade beneath you and caused a blade of yellowing grass to droop.

You thought it was beautiful.

He gave the picture back to you the following Monday, ignoring your questioning state and simply stating that ‘He didn’t need it anymore’. You were about to ask him what he meant by that but his friend, Jaemin you remembered, grumpily waved him over from across the hall. You were too overjoyed by having the picture in your grasp to remind yourself to ask again. You two never did talk about that kiss, though, or about the pitiful gaze Jaemin gave you as Haechan walked towards him.

///

Donghyuck was not the type to ‘like’ anyone.

It wasn’t that he thought he was too cool to do so, it wasn’t that he thought there was no one good enough for him, it wasn’t even that he was afraid of the love of his life falling for someone else. That’s not what he was afraid of.

He was afraid of the sunspots, the imperfections of himself. He was afraid of being open about his insecurities. He was afraid of someone not seeing him for who he was, but at the same time, all he wanted people to see was his perfection. People thought he was good-looking anyway, why let that all be ruined by his emotional trauma?

So when he turned eighteen and he started to look at your long lashes casting shadows on your face, and those luscious lips glistening from your tongue in a whole new light, he was scared. He didn’t like you, no, no, no. Surely not. You were just getting pretty, that was all. Your eyes were just getting bigger, that’s why it was so easy for him to get lost in them. Your body temperature must’ve been getting higher, that’s why the casual brush of your skin against his was burning him. You were just...changing. So was he, that was all. Man, was he going through puberty late, or what? All these unfamiliar emotions annoyed him. They made his nostrils flare; because for once, he wasn’t in control of his own emotions.

Not that it mattered too much, anyway. He wasn’t in love with you -- that was for sure. Love was much too strong of a word. He couldn’t -- not with all the things he’s done to you in the past, at least.

(That’s what he told himself.)

///

When you were eighteen, around Christmas time, Donghyuck asked you to spend the night at his house for the first time. Yeah, you’ve been to his house before, but you’ve never stayed the night. He’s probably seen your room more times than you’ve seen his parents, both of them, combined. But now that you were half a year away from graduation, you weren’t as focused on having fun. Surprising yourself, you’d called a raincheck on the past three flower crown sessions.

And even more surprising, he turned up to your doorstep on Friday at eight at night asking you to stay the night at his house, a red glow to his face. Without thinking, you nodded and quickly grabbed your things before leaving your mom a note and rushing out your door to his house.

“Why’re you inviting me over, anyway? I’ve known you for ten years and you’ve never asked me to do this.” You were closing the door to his house behind you, making sure it didn’t slam shut. “Oh, please,” he threw his hat on a coat hanger, “I’ve seen your place plenty of times.”

“Yeah, but I’ve never spent the night at yours. This is like a level up in friendship.”

He sneered, “Never say that again. God.” You rolled your eyes, muttering a playful ‘whatever’ as you bumped his shoulder walking past him into the kitchen. He faced the marble counters in an attempt to hide his smile, but you could see the corner of his lips quirk upwards.

He dug through the cabinets, grabbing out ingredients to make pancakes -- or at least, that’s what it looked like -- and you were left to trail your eyes over his broad shoulders. His smooth skin disappeared underneath his graphic t-shirt that lifted up to reveal the pastier skin of his hip whenever he reached up. This boy had you entranced, and you loved it.

He hummed a tune that was barely audible over the clamor of the metal pots and pans he took out, but your keen ear could tell his voice was just as beautiful as it was as an awkward middle school choir boy, probably even better.

The silence was broken by him clearing his throat, “Neither of my parents will be home for the weekend. And...I felt alone so...” he shrugged, “I wanted someone over. And, you’re the closest, so...”

You could tell his face was red without even looking at him. You bit your lip, hiding your smile. You moved from his island to right behind him, peering over his shoulder. Summoning all the courage in your nervous body, you rested your chin on his shoulder by standing on your tippy-toes.

Donghyuck stopped, his shoulder stiffening as he looked down at you with wide doe-like eyes.

It was his turn to admire you. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, you were the most beautiful you’ve ever been. With your dimples and rosy cheeks, crescent eyes -- all of it. You were cute, he couldn’t lie. And he couldn’t lie about his shock and loneliness from not seeing you for three weeks. Normally it was you sending him longing looks in the hallway, but this time around it was him watching your joyous figure hop around in festive spirit.

The one thing he noticed most of all, was the fact that you were on the balls of your feet to reach his shoulder. He beamed at you, shaking his head playfully before ducking down to, ‘be at your inferior level’. You laughed, shoving him away from you. His melodious laugh rang out, making your mind spin. Even his laugh was priceless.

The hours passed by as you both ate your chocolate pancakes and watched countless movies from your childhood. Donghyuck was never particularly touchy with you, but this time his arm fell into place behind your neck and his legs were pressed against yours. You could feel his warmth through his black fuzzy sweats. If he couldn’t see your red ears, you’d be shocked.

“Can we go to bed now? I’m tired of watching these lame chick-flicks.” The yawning boy complained, stretching out his limbs and pushing the coffee table with his feet in the process. “Oh, please, you act like you didn’t cry for the whole movie.” You retorted, flicking him on the forehead before getting up yourself, reaching your arms to the popcorn ceilings, stretching.

Donghyuck watched your pajama shirt ride up your sides, your smooth skin breaching his sight. The boy couldn’t help but rub the shell of his ear in embarrassment: since when did he get so flustered over a little piece of skin? He’s kissed you before for god’s sake.

He’s kissed you. The kiss that he thought about over and over again these past few months, even though it’s been two whole years since the kiss. For some reason, he’d dream of your shimmering eyes and moist lips. He smiled to himself when he could tell that you didn’t drink any alcohol that night; you didn’t taste like rum. Donghyuck was sure he did, though.

As you turned off the TV and took the popcorn bowl to the kitchen, he pondered about what had changed about you to elicit such a shift in his own heart. Was it because you were no longer awkward around him? Was it because your eyes focused on your work, even when he sat next to you? Was it because you no longer looked at him like he was the most important thing in your life? Or, Donghyuck shuddered at the thought, maybe I like her now. That was a thought he scrapped immediately. There was nothing special about you. You may have been in love with him, but it was not the other way around.

“Hyuck, what’re you waiting for? Let’s go to your room. Oh, and can you help me set up the air mattress?” You bounded up his carpeted stairs as you called out, knocking him out of his trance. “Oh, wait!” He yelled, switching off the lights in the living room quickly before copying your earlier actions. At the top of the stairs, you were rummaging through his linen closet, muttering about the dust. “Y/n, I said wait.” “Why? I want to get it set up now so I don’t have to do it when I’m tired.”

“Because we’re going to sleep together? Like I did when I slept over at your house?” The blood in your body must’ve all simultaneously stopped flowing because your fingers went cold and you became rigid. “W-What? Donghyuck, we’re not eight anymore. We’re eighteen.” But the aforementioned boy didn’t pay attention to your words as he plopped onto his bed, mocking you. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. I’m eighteen seconds from forcing you to sleep on the ground if you don’t climb in here right now.” His sass covered up his pounding heart.

One glance at his side profile, and you were convinced. You slid into the blanket that was he cuddled in, wincing every time your skin brushed his. He had to have noticed your awkwardness.

But, if he did, he didn’t say anything. It was quiet. His room was dimly lit and the moon danced outside the window as the cicadas hummed their enchanting tunes. It was official, you noticed, Donghyuck was out of his prime time. It was no longer a golden honey paste painted across the skies, but instead a cool dark-toned black and blue painting, splotches of white catching your attention. Despite the change of environment, you had never felt more tranquil than laying next to the love of your life.

Donghyuck was freaking out. He hoped you couldn’t hear the songs his heart was singing. He hated it. He hated this feeling. He didn’t want to feel this way for you. He didn’t want to love you. Love meant vulnerability. It meant communication and working things out when they got hard. It meant being honest with your flaws.

After a few more minutes of surprisingly comfortable silence, you reached behind you and turned off your light, ready to sleep. But at that moment, Donghyuck opened his mouth. Internally, he cursed himself. Was it the haze of sleepiness the moon cast over him that caused his heart to feel so pliable? He’d think about it later because right now he was finally letting go. Finally being himself.

“You know, I hate the moon?” The piece of information was familiar to you, so you nodded, hoping he could tell through his closed eyes. All of a sudden. he looked up, his eyes staring straight at yours like gorgeous ebony daggers. How ironic that he hated night, when his eyes looked like all the stars were twinkling within them. “Do you know why I hate it?” You kept silent, the look in your eyes urging him on.

He turned back onto his back, staring up at his empty ceiling. He loathes this vulnerable and open feeling. Why was he talking to you right now? Why were you scooting closer and placing your head on his chest? Why was he allowing it? Why does he like it? “The moon is really barren. It’s just a gray surface littered with scars. Looking at it, I feel sick. The moon is... it’s vulnerable. If an asteroid crashes on the moon, it leaves a scar on the surface forever. It can never be healed or erased, even with time. But,” You heard him swallow, “The sun isn’t like that. The sun,” He sounded in awe, his indifferent and even disgusted voice he had when talking about the moon dissipating into wonder. “is strong. Nothing can hurt the sun. It commands attention and even mocks you as it does so because you can’t stare directly at it. You can’t get to close without getting hurt. It’s protecting itself.” His eyes were glimmering, and you couldn’t help but listen and stare.

“If an asteroid hit the sun; it wouldn't make a dent. The sun would just swallow it -- unbothered. Plus, the sun is so beautiful. It’s a marble of strength with reds, yellows, and oranges dancing only for the sun. The explosions put on little shows for the sun’s eyes only.” He stops talking for a minute, seemingly collecting his thoughts.

“The sun is like honey. It captures you; it captivates you. Once it has you in its grasp, you can never leave. It’s,” A smile broke out onto his face, one you had never seen before in all your years of knowing the boy. “enchanting. I want to be just like the sun.”

You didn’t say anything after that, because he dozed off. Little breaths left his mouth, and you laid there, thinking. If there was any Lee Donghyuck that you were in love with, it was the perfect golden sun version he described. Not the gloomy barren one who barely gave you glanced in the hallways in school.

Maybe the sun was better than the moon. The moon has so many imperfections; the sun is perfect. It’s warm and inviting. Donghyuck is just like the sun. He’s perfect.

He’s perfect. Was all you thought as you drifted off into dreamland yourself, satisfied with your conclusion that there was no imperfection on Donghyuck’s existence. You wouldn’t accept otherwise. It didn’t make sense otherwise.

(Could you not see his sunspots, Y/n? Because you’re about to.)

///

DOnghyuck had stopped talking to you the second you stepped out of the doorway to his house. That morning had been sweet, he told you good morning in a quiet voice and made you pancakes with cinnamon in them, he knew they were your favorite.

Your heart had pounded the whole weekend, anticipating Monday. Would he walk with you to school? Maybe even wait for you after school? Would he finally introduce you to his friend group? You didn’t know, but your smile was etched onto your face like plaster. Saturday was canceled, though, because he had to pick his parents up from the airport, but that was okay. You’d get to see him Monday.

And when the morning came, he wasn’t home. Apparently, he left early for the club, his mom had told you. You nodded and frowned at her words, turning on your heels and walking to school with a slightly downtrodden face. You still have the afternoon! Don’t worry! The angel in the back of your head assured you, replacing that frown with a toothy grin before you entered your classroom doors.

Yet, here was the end of the day, and here you were at your locker, taking books out to bring home with you, sighing. You hadn’t seen him at all. Maybe he was just slipping your slight, but a scary feeling in your stomach rose. Was he avoiding you?

“Hey, Y/n.”

The hairs on the back of your neck stood on end and you turned around, “Jaemin, you scared me.” A chuckle left the boy's lips, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to. Just wanted to say hi.” You closed your locker, turning your body to fully face him. “Sure you did; nice to see you again, Jaemin. Is there something you need?”

The pretty boy’s brows furrowed, “Ah, yes, actually. Um, did you say something to Haechan recently? He’s been acting weird all day.”

“He’s here today! I didn’t see him at all! Is he okay? The last time I saw him was Saturday morning when I left his house.” Jaemin’s face looked shocked, “I stayed over for a sleepover, nothing else.” You laughed, shaking your head at the boy. “O-Oh, I knew that.” He tried.

“I just thought you said something to him because he’s had a dazed look in his eyes all day. His responses in the group chat are really dry, too.” You pursed your lips, “He doesn’t text me, so I don’t know what you’re talking about. He was fine when I left Saturday morning.”

“Alright then. Anyway, I was wondering if--”

“Hey, Y/n. Jaemin?” The voice that melted your heart for ten years appeared beside you, scaring the daylights out of Jaemin, who clutched his heart before sighing out loud. “Dude, you could’ve said something.”

“I did, though?” Donghyuck smirked, one hand gripping the straps of his backpack before looking at you.

“Y/n.”

“Hyuck.” You both spoke at the same time, Haechan’s eyes glimmered, and he ushered you to speak first, something he’d never done before. “Donghyuck,” your eyes traced his subtle features, landing back at his eyes. “What you said on Friday...you’re like the sun, you really are. Honey-like skin and all. You’re perfect, Donghyuck. ”

Donghyuck swore that his blood stopped flowing in his body. He felt his smile fall and his facial muscles tense, his fingers tightened around his bag before he scoffed, blinking a few times to make sure he was processing your words properly. You thought he was perfect? Did you not even listen to him on Friday?

One look back at your shining eyes, he knew the answer. You didn’t. Of fucking course, you didn’t. How could he ever expect you to understand him when all you’ve proven is that you’re blindly and stupidly in love with him? How could you understand him when he never let down his walls for you? Hell, even when he did, you never understood.

“You're pathetic.” The unfamiliarly venomous words leave his mouth before he can think them over in his head. You blink back in shock, confused. Hurt. ��Excuse me? W-What?”

“I said -- you’re pathetic. You must be a fucking mole rat to be that blind. You don’t know shit about me.” His insults kept spilling out of his mouth, both you and Jaemin sitting there shocked. When he was finally done, you were still standing there, in front of your locker, processing his hurtful words.

What the hell? You were mad. Scratch that, you were livid. You had been by his side for so long, yet he had the nerve to call you pathetic? But you were so confused too because he had spilled his guts to you on Friday. He had called you his best friend, he had made flower crowns with you for almost every Saturday for the past decade. He had kissed you. He had fucking kissed you.

Your state of mind was still frozen, but you managed a few words to get out while you dwelled on his hatred. Your gaze was still trained on the ground, unfocused and blurry. “Why did you kiss me, Donghyuck?” Donghyuck thought your voice sounded strangely calm, but one look at your face and he knew what was going on in your head was anything but.

Glazed-over wet eyes, a tense jaw, red cheeks (from embarrassment and hurt, he guessed), erratic breathing, nervously fingering the straps on your bag. You weren’t calm. Were you hurt? Shocked? Pensive, rethinking every moment you’ve ever known him? Donghyuck didn’t know what effect his words had on you this time. Part of him wanted to break out into a blinding smile and tell you he was joking, and then go back to never talking to you again. Cancel the Saturdays. Move out of the house. Move to another country. Another continent. Pretend like he never knew you. His words hurt you, yes, he knew that much, but your words dug into his heart like the daggers dragging on a stone wall, forever etching a scar.

Why did Donghyuck kiss you? The answer was simple in your mind -- he had been drunk that day. He had been drinking vodka, anyway, he had reeked of illegal drinking. But drunk actions were truthful thoughts, you believed. So you held onto that frayed string of hope, clutching on for dear life, praying -- that he liked you like you loved him.

Why did Donghyuck kiss you? The answer was complicated in his mind -- he had never loved you before. Hell, he had never loved anyone before. He just wanted to kiss you to win a bet and, like the stupid highschool boy he was, he did just that. Stole your first kiss. At some point after that, probably when you stopped spending as much time with him, he realized that you had left a mark on his heart. He hated it; he hated the thought of liking you. But absence had made his heart grow fonder. A year and a half after the kiss, he was ‘in like’ with you, maybe even in love. He spilled his guts to you that Friday night, hoping you’d get him. Hoping you’d nurse his wounds, his scars of insecurity. Hoping that you’d accept him, moon and all. He held onto that frayed string of hope, clutching on for dear life, praying - that you’d get him like he hoped you did.

But alas, even after a decade of golden Saturdays spent together, you didn’t get him like he had hoped. And he didn’t like you the way you loved him. Then again, he never really let you in to meet the real him. But you never really knocked on the door to his heart either.

He didn’t know how to respond. But one look at the stance Jaemin was taking -- crossing his arms with raised brows behind you, your own tears pooling at your waterline -- he decided.

He decided anger. “God, I don’t know! Can you stop asking me such dumb questions? I was just curious Y/n! God, fuck! I don’t know!” Donghyuck ruffled his hair, irritated.

“Haechan,” Jamin’s nostrils flared, breath hot with hatred, “you know. You know, Haechan.” Your eyes darted over to Jaemin, dazed, then back to Donghyuck, weary. “Fine!” He exasperated, “there was a bet that I couldn’t kiss a random girl at the party. No one knew that I knew you, so I asked you to come with. I was drunk, okay. I- I wasn’t thinking straight.” The truth scraped his tongue on the way out; he felt guilty, taking your first kiss, taking a picture for proof, and then acting like nothing ever happened. He was sure he had broken your heart then. But he didn’t care at that time.

“Some random girl? You--” You paused, a painful and breathy laugh leaving your mouth, “You’ve never thought of me as anything more than a freak, have you Donghyuck? I was your embarrassment, wasn’t I? I was your dirty little secret you used for your fucking insecurities, wasn’t I?” The words attacked Donghyuck, and he hated it. He hated them because they were true.

“You’re overreacting! It was just a kiss!” He yelled, trying to defend what was left of his shriveling dignity. The devil on his shoulder urged him on -- that you really were overreacting. That you should’ve never fallen in love with him in the first place; that it was all your fault for not understanding him.

“It wasn’t just a kiss Donghyuck! I’ve loved you for years! Can’t you tell?” Salty tears dripped down your face, leaving cold tracks of water in their wake. The boy in front of you clenched his fists. “Actually, don’t answer that. You knew. You just used me. You always kept just enough hope to keep me going. Just enough. Well, Haechan. Fuck you, hope you’ve got what you’ve wanted.” The name his other friends called him felt weird coming from you, and he visibly winced at the way you spat out a distant name. There was a swell of pride deep in your soul, that he was getting a taste of his own medicine.

“YOU CAN’T JUST BLAME ME! You never tried to understand me either! I was just a perfect boy with no flaws to you! Do you know how that feels?” No, you didn’t. He was right in that sense. You had never really noticed his flaws, he was a blurred photo to you. He was beautifully perfect in the still moment, but in real life, he was just like any other person. You had to admit, your obsession with his love had blinded you. And that wasn’t fair to him.

But neither was leading you on for years.

“THAT DOESN’T MEAN YOU LEAD SOMEONE ON FOR A DECADE!” Silence fell over you two, Jaemin shifting in discomfort behind you. You’d forgotten he was there.

“I--” He started to yell, stopping. “But I liked you too.” He thought to himself, digging his nails in his palm to stop the words. “I don’t get you.” Calmly, he fixed his bag on his shoulder, turning to leave. His feet kept going. One. Two. One. Two. Walk straight ahead, don’t look back.

He heard you scoff behind him, “Likewise, you bastard.”

The sun, look at it. Be like the sun, consume what hurts you, and move on. Donghyuck gulped, your words exploding against his heart like sun flares blazing against the surface of the star. Tears finally fell on his honey face. Donghyuck was sweaty, hot, and emotional. He felt sticky, he felt disgusting. He just wanted to get home and take a shower, wash off the memories of the decade he had known you. Watch them whirl around the drain, never to be seen again. He wanted to forget ever knowing you.

///

Months had passed, the school year ended, giving way to summer. Graduation went smoother than expected. You walked the stage with confidence, you personalized cap and gown making people marvel. There was a moon on your hat, and on your heart. You had always preferred the moon to the sun, anyway.

Saturdays took a while to get used to. It was lonely for a while. That was, until Jaemin had invited you to hang out. You had thought about declining, but in a moment of disregard for your moping self, you had accepted. You asked if he was still friends with Haechan, and he smiled.

“Yeah, it’s a little tense though. But it’ll make you happy to know that he’s changing for the better.” It did make you happy. Bitterly so, though, because it took breaking your heart for a decade to teach him a lesson.

Then, later, you declined Jaemin’s date. He was bouncing his knee, timidly asking to take you out, and not as friends. You bit your lip, apologizing, you weren’t ready. He understood. He walked you home, and you gave him a smile in return.

///

Walking into your room, you sighed. You had spent little time in your room since your fight with Haechan, everything reminded you of him in here. Most of your time spent was in the living room, lounging on the couch, working on college applications at the dining table.

You glanced at the boxes in the corner of your room, they were begging you to hurry and pack up your things for college next week. You decided to listen to them and not procrastinate, picking a box up and opening your drawers, folding clothes neatly in the small space.

Daylight was shifting into a golden spray, your room turning hues of orange and yellow. Suddenly, the barrenness of your room became apparent. The clutter was less now, and few things caught your eye.

One of the things was the glass-framed milkweed flower crown hanging across from your bed. You sighed, it slipped your mind that milkweed was poisonous.

Your heart squeezed as you stood on your bed to take it down, holding it in your hands for a few seconds, admiring how the plant was still clinging onto green when it hadn’t touched water in years. Softly, you threw the flower on your bed. Taping up the last of the boxes you were taking with you, you picked up one last small box.

///

“Tell me if you need anything, sweetie!” Your mom called out, she had always been jolly. Donghyuck loved your family. He loved how blissfully unaware they were of your and his relationship, or friendship, if you could call it that anymore. Donghyuck felt strange standing in your empty room. Apparently, you had left that morning for college, wanting to drive on your own. Your parents were going to meet you up there with the rest of your stuff.

Donghyuck had visited your house under the disguise that he had left something in your room that he was wanting to take to college with him. There wasn’t, he just wanted to see your room (and possibly, you) one last time before he left. Disappointment had flushed through him when he was told you were gone already, but there was also relief. What would he have said to you, anyway? Sorry? That was like putting a bandaid on a gaping wound.

It felt like it was missing something. He took notice of the missing frame that used to hang above your bed. He huffed, not focusing on the pinch his heart was experiencing. His gaze landed on a brown box that sat on your sheet-less bed. Curiosity got the best of him, and he made his way towards the middle of the room. His hand hesitated before taking the lid off the box.

Donghyuck saw the hoodie he gave you that one day when you were eleven when you started to cry about him asking you to go home early because his friends were coming over. He had given you the hoodie to stop your loud ugly sobbing, and to keep the other boy’s attention from seeing the evidence of you and him making flower crowns.

Donghyuck saw the polaroid of you and him kissing during on that cold night that one day when you were sixteen. He could make out the smile behind the kiss and his red ears that blended into the monochromatic red and orange splotches, though it could've been easily mistaken for a drunken hue.

Donghyuck saw the glass frame with the flower crown he gave you that one day ten years ago. His heart tightened before bursting with emotions he didn’t know he had. Regret. Sorrow. Desperation.

Finally, his gaze landed on an orange sticky note stuck to the very bottom of the box with messy words scribbled onto it that read, ‘golden hour doesn’t last forever.’ His tears fell onto the glass frame, the wetness slowly slipping off the edge of the clear crystal like honey and onto the dusty and scuffed wooden floors.

’Why am I crying?’ He thought. He fiddled with the glass frame one last time before rushing out the memory-filled house. Dashing back into his own abode, he ignored the corner of his yard that stared back at him like a bitter ex-lover. It was overgrown now, having not been touched for months. Green vines growing onto the white table you two used to sit at, the milkweeds prospering in the dingy corner that was always a few degrees cooler than the rest of the grassy yard.

Oh Donghyuck, it’s because you loved her.

///

712 notes · View notes

illstaywithstray · 5 years

Text

Coffee| Stray Kids Chan Au

↳ pairing: Stray Kids Chan x Reader| fluff

↳ au: highschool!au, newstudent!chan. badass!reader

↳ warnings: cursing, mentions of violence

↳ word count: 2,337

⁙ summary: Chan is a new student at your school, but after a mishap on the first day and your bad rep at school, how will he feel about you?

⁛ A/N: Thank you for requesting! This was my first fic, so it was a bit short. I hope you like it, and I’ll make the next one longer!

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“Y/n, I swear to god, I’m about to freeze my balls off.” Walking to school with y/f/n in six inches of snow was practically torture. You laughed at her but passed her the mug of hot chocolate you had been neglecting. She sighed in relief.

“Honestly, if Mr. Bolton gives us another pop quiz today, I’m dropping out and becoming a stripper.” You groaned at the thought of stat class, while y/f/n chugged the rest of her drink. “Relax, you always pass anyway. Besides, we gotta get seats in the front again. I still can’t get over the fact that Namjoon offered to tutor you,” y/f/n shook her head in disbelief.

“Maybe that’s because we’re friends and he’s nice.” You put an emphasis on the word ‘friends’ and y/f/n rolled her eyes. “He’s the hottest guy at school, but you have zero interest. Lowkey hard to believe.” You rolled your eyes back. “Honestly y/f/n, I know he’s cute, but I literally have no time to date. And my mom would whoop my ass. Annnd tests are coming up soon.” You stepped in front of her and started walking backward. “And there’s a new transfer student. What if he’s the one, and I waste my opportunity to be with him while dating Namjoon?” you voiced dramatically, clutching your hands to your heart with a pained expression. “You’re so dramatic, c’mon, let’s head in.”

You walked into first period with Namjoon, laughing over some guy he’d been tutoring a few days ago. Worldwide handsome or something like that. Heads immediately turned. Heads always turned when Namjoon was in the room. He had the reputation of the “hot aesthetic art student who was totally unattainable,” but in reality, he was a dork who broke everything he touched. Quite literally. You said bye and headed over to your seat where lord behold, a guy was sitting. Dark hair but the palest skin you’d ever seen in your life. And frankly, he was cute. While you were arguing whether or not you were looking at Asian Edward Cullen, he looked up.

“Yes?” he stared at you, lowkey checking you out. “You’re in my seat,” you explained flatly. “Oh, sorry. I’m new.” He continued staring but didn’t budge. My god, does he not understand? “Yeah, ok, but you can sit over there. No one sits there.” You pointed at an empty desk. He glanced over, and then looked back up at you with the cutest smile in the world. “No thanks.” You looked away and blew air out of your mouth angrily, but walked over to the front to sit with Namjoon. He glanced at you and looked back at the new kid.

“What happened,” he whispered. “Some dude took my seat.” “Well, at least you can sit with me.” You stared at him blankly, and he held his hands up comedically. Mr. Bolton walked in, holding lovely test packets. You screamed internally and then hit your head against the table a few times. Sitting back up, Mr. Bolton looked at you with concern and then turned to the class.

“I’m sure you’ve all seen our new student. Chan? Would you like to introduce yourself to the class?” The new guy- Chan- nodded, stood up, and walked over and stood next to the front desk. You looked him up and down. Blue sweatshirt, black jacket, jeans, and a hat. Turned backward. You and Namjoon made eye contact and shook your heads simultaneously. Both of you had the taste of the gods. At least in clothes. “Hey, I’m Chan, I just transferred, and I hope I don’t fail out of stat. Nice to meet you all” The class laughed. You glanced over at NJ and both of you snickered quietly. “Guys, settle down. I was going to give the test for chapter 8 today, but since Chan is new, I figured we could postpone it until after the break. We’ll be studying for the testing week today. I’m sure y/n’s grateful.” You stared at him and shook your head. “Nah, he’s pissed me off in less than a minute. A new record by the way.” The class shuffled in excitement. Chan laughed from behind you, and you glanced at him and felt your face warm up. You lowkey had the reputation of that bitch who got into fights. Behind the school, near the track. And you always won. You’d gotten into trouble so often that your dad just sent his assistant to cover for you. Fortunately, you had the grades, and your dad had the money to bail you out of trouble. Every single time. Not to mention, teachers fell at your feet since you always tried to be nice to them, so school was practically your playground. It was only a matter of time before Chan figured out.

Which was pretty fast, because guess who was sitting in that exact spot when you dragged Kamini Hersch, by the hair, over there. She had stolen all of one of your friend’s clothes while she was showering in the locker room and thrown them out in the snow. And your friend had walked out into the hallway in a towel, crying. You’d given her extra clothes but searched for her stuff anyway. One of Kamini’s friends had told you what happened, and you’d skipped third period to go find her.

Actually, neither Chan nor you had seen each other, since there was too much of a crowd for him to see you. After you finished beating some sense into her, you got up, tossed your hair back, and walked away, without a scratch, like nothing happened. You had glanced over him and hesitated for a moment. Did he see me? Someone told him what happened when he asked what the crowd was standing around for, and he glanced at your receding figure, wondering. You shook away your thoughts while walking away, not expecting to see him anytime soon. You were wrong.

You had just bought coffee at lunch, since you had no appetite to eat. In reality, even though Kamini had done something to your friend, you hated laying your hands on anyone. You really weren’t malicious, you just tried to protect your friends. Chan was sitting alone, flipping through a textbook. You felt a pang of sadness for him, and you slid in the seat next to Felix Lee. His table was basically Namjoon’s lunch table but less populated. You glanced over at the table you usually sat at, and Jungkook, Taehyung, Jimin and y/f/n were staring at you until they started pretending that they were having a really deep discussion. Oh god, they think I’m making moves. Ugh, I’m about to get roasted. “Hey guys, so there’s this new kid, and ya know, you guys are super nice and all, so I thought-” Seungmin held up a finger. “Sure, go call him over.” “Nice, thanks.” You walked over to Chan’s table but bumped into some dude and spilled coffee all over his textbook, notes, and clothes. He seemed not to register what had just happened until he felt the coffee burn him.

“Oh my god Chan, I am so sorry, I swear that was an accident, um, I was actually trying to tell you that I found you a lunch table, wait not that I think you look pathetic sitting alone, okay maybe I do, but you’re new, but not gonna lie, you’re kinda cute so I thought you’d have made more friends, but um sorry, I’m so sorry, I was just trying to be nice I swear,” you exhaled, looking at him worriedly. He looked at you and then burst out laughing. “Well, I wasn’t expecting that not gonna lie. You think I’m cute? You really aren’t anything like I heard, are you?” You tilted your head, confused. “People said you were intimidating, but damn, you’re so cute.” He got up, frowning at his textbook. You felt your face heat up at the word ‘cute,’ but pushed it down and sucked in air.

An hour later, you were drying his notes with your blowdryer while he changed into some of Namjoon’s clothes. You had paid for the damage to his textbook even though he had resisted it for a good thirty minutes.

He walked out, dressed in a black sweater and jeans. He looked surprisingly good for a dude wearing something so simple. “Well, your notes are dry, but uh, they look a little... bruised.” You winced at the visible stains on the papers. “Y/n, it’s cool, thanks for the help.” He grinned stupidly, and you felt yourself blushing. “Yeah, don’t mention it. Also, I’ll buy you dinner or something since I wrecked your lunch today.” Now he started turning red. You tossed your phone at him. “Number?” He turned even redder and you felt the corners of your mouth turn up as he typed in digits. He passed it back to you, and you walked out, waving back at him.

The week ended, and testing week rushed by. It was finally chill at school, and you had more time for yourself. Namjoon and you had studied together almost every day before testing, and everyone assumed you were dating because rumor had it that you had fallen asleep together in the back of the library. Which was true, but it really hadn’t meant anything to either one of you, since he had a girlfriend and you had a massive crush on Chan. When you went to dinner with him, he had been the funniest, most laidback guy you’d ever met. He had called you several times, usually late at night, and the conversation went on so many tangents. You’d told him about what had actually happened at the fight, and he told you how little sleep he got because of dance practices and other work. And then you realized, oh my god, I’m head over heels for this kid. Which, of course, led you to start panicking. Once you had spilled this information to your lunch table, they had bugged you incessantly and kept making obscene noises when he walked by or got to his table at lunch and waved at you. The rest of the guys at his table picked up on your blushing and stuttering whenever Chan talked to you, and began trying to get to you to tell him.

“Y/N, JUST THE GIRL WE WERE LOOKING FOR,” Changbin and Felix screamed. “Great, the soundcloud boyfriends. Just what I needed.” Seungmin giggled, but shut up when Changbin stared at him. “Seriously though, you should ask him out, he keeps talking about you,” Jeongin said. You sat up straighter. “What’d he say?” Hyunjin snorted, “y/n has a really good smile, but she pretends she’s super aloof.” Woojin continued, “yeah and she always helps me with stat and offers to get me lunch.” Minho was the only one who you could mentally withstand, but even he laughed and said that it was only a matter of time. You decided you were done with these weird kids and walked with Jisung. “Y/n, seriously, he told me he thought you were a really great person. At least talk to him about it. If you like him, that is.” “Okay, yes I like Chan. I like Chris Bang. He’s so fucking funny and cute and smart and I feel something inside me start beating faster whenever he talks to me. There.” You shook your head but felt Jisung snicker and stop. You glanced at him, but he was staring behind you. “I told you, now come out.” Chan poked his head out from behind a locker. “Great. BYE.” And you flew down the hall, taking a corner and slamming into Jungkook. “HIDE ME, THEY EXPOSED ME,” and he grabbed your hand and dove into a supply closet. “Wait, what happened?” “JISUNG SET ME UP, CHAN KNOWS I LIKE HIM. I EXPOSED MYSELF OH LORDY.” “First of all, shut up, the janitor’s threatening to report me if I keep coming in here, and second, how’d he react?” “Well, I ran away, so I’m not sure.” “Girl, go out there and get your man. Don’t be a pussy.” “Fine.”

And then you stepped out of the closet, walking around the janitor, who cursed quietly upon seeing Jungkook and yet another girl in his supply closet. You saw Chan standing by himself back in the same hallway, and took him behind the school. Snow was falling as he stared down at you, looking slightly confused.

“Yeah, what I said was true. I like you. Sorry.” You exhaled air and looked away.

“Phew, I thought you were about to beat me up or something. Since this is your spot. And why are you sorry? I like you too.”

“Dumbass, I like you like I like like you.”

“Yes, and I like like you too. I’ve been trying to ask you out y/n.”

You stared at him blankly, and watched the snow fall on his face. He stared back at you, flushing slightly. And then, like in a stereotypical Hallmark movie, he took your face in his hands. You felt your heart speeding up by the close proximity of his face to yours. The cold air swirled and howled around you as he leaned closer and kissed you. You could hear cheering coming from inside, where everyone had their faces pressed up against the windows. “Y/N’S MAKING OUT WITH CHAN AT THE SPOT.”

After the day at the Spot, you and Chan were that couple. The one that made out in the supply closet (which the janitor abandoned since you had traded him your locker like the saint you were and which Jungkook decided to avoid), held hands to stat class and were always running in slow motion to each other. He’d refused to let you beat people up, but bandaged your bloody knuckles when a bitch tested you and you made sure that he was taking care of his health and sleeping on time. Every Friday was study night with Namjoon, his new girlfriend (who, by the way, was y/f/n; she’d finally tried to talk to him, and then he told you that he liked her, so you’d set them up like the amazing friend you were), and Chan, and then you’d go back to his dorm for dinner and a movie. Which was practically always horror, and neither one of you liked horror, so it was only natural that both of you ended up huddled in blankets screaming. And going to amusement parks with him was practically the cutest thing ever. Because he turned into a little kid and pulled you to every ride. And literally every single time he smiled at you, with that smile, you were so, so glad that you had spilled coffee on this boy.

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