my second wip graveyard! as i said in the first one, all of these were written in questionable hours of the night so no, i didn't proofread/format them to perfection, but i'd still like to share them anyway.
nobody gets me - snsd, taeyeon/tiffany | canon compliant | 269w | rated t only like myself when i'm with you
Taeyeon is sitting in the middle of Kibum’s living room when her phone starts vibrating inside her pocket.
Tiffany [08:35 PM]
Hey!!! Look at this!!!
anantara.com/en/riverside-bangkok
Pretty isn’t it?
Taeyeon closes her eyes and sighs. She knows what this means, and she knows that, this time, she won’t be able to say no—doesn’t have to heart so say sorry, I’m busy with work, let’s try to meet another day for the tenth time in a row.
Tiffany deserves better than this. It’s not her fault that—
“What? What is it?” Kibum points to Taeyeon’s phone, stretching his neck to catch a glimpse of the message. Taeyeon lets him, lacking the strength to lock her screen and push him away. Kibum frowns as he reads, shooting Taeyeon a sympathetic look once he’s done. “Oh, girl.”
Taeyeon rests her head on Kibum’s shoulder and stays there for a while, contemplating about what she should do next, about what she should say to Tiffany—beautiful, kind, patient Tiffany who just wants to spend some time with her, as they often did before she moved back to the U.S.
Before Taeyeon had to deal with some uncomfortable truths.
“Are you going to reply or not?” Kibum speaks up after minutes of silence between them, nudging Taeyeon’s ribs with his elbow.
“What should I do,” Taeyeon runs her fingers through her hair. “God, what should I do.”
“I’m sure you know the answer already,” Kibum gives Taeyeon’s shoulder an encouraging squeeze. “Just do it.”
Taeyeon [08:56 PM]
Book us a room, Fany-ah
We’re going on a trip
for your eyes only - snsd, taeyeon/tiffany | canon compliant, established relationship | 251w | (was supposed to be) rated e secretly, without anyone knowing
Taeyeon nearly dies the first time it happens.
She's in the passenger seat of the car, dozing off while her manager drives her to her last schedule of the day, when her phone starts beeping inside her bag.
She considers ignoring it, assuming it's Kibum sending her stupid memes he found on Instagram as usual, but the annoying sound keeps reaching Taeyeon's ears and, by extension, her manager's. Worried that the sound might be disruptive enough to cause an actual accident, Taeyeon unzips her bag and grabs her phone.
블랙티 🖤 sent you 10 new messages.
Taeyeon frowns. She has no idea why Tiffany would be sending her this many messages when it's not even eight in the morning in the U.S yet. Her girlfriend would usually start spamming her around lunch, when she'd spend at least an hour sending her countless links of pet clothes and rambling about how cute they'd look on Zero.
Fear starts taking over Taeyeon's senses, hands shaking at the mere thought of something bad happening to her girlfriend and—
Her phone slips from her grasp the second she unlocks her screen.
“Fuck,” Taeyeon curses under her breath, picking up the device from the floor and shoving it back inside her bag.
Her manager side-eyes her, asks if she's okay, to which she answers with a nod and a tight-lipped smile. Which is far from the truth because, fuck, she's not okay. She's far from okay. Actually, she thinks she might faint any minute now.
it's all me, just don't go - wjsn, seola/soobin | canon compliant, miscommunication, loser hyunjung | 1.2k | rated t meet me in the afterglow
“Unnie,” Soobin starts tentatively, hands sliding under her own thighs. “Do you like me?”
Hyunjung doesn’t look up from her book, nor does she flinch at the question. She finds the situation kind of silly, actually. Hasn’t she made it obvious, like, a thousand times throughout the years they’ve known each other?
From the second they got over their initial awkwardness towards each other, Hyunjung has stuck to Soobin’s side like a lifeline—patient, unwavering, quietly planting seeds of affection with each action and word, hoping one day they would bloom and turn into a beautiful, endless garden.
“I do,” Hyunjung fixes her glasses with the tip of her finger, flips a page of the book she’s been engrossed in for hours. “Of course I do.”
“No,” Soobin huffs, growing impatient. Hyunjung doesn’t have to look at her to know her cheeks are red and puffed, as they usually are when she’s either embarrassed or annoyed. She’s probably going through a weird mix of both right now, given the situation. “Do you like me like that?”
“Yes,” Hyunjung removes her glasses, bookmarks the page she was in, and leaves the novel on the nightstand before she turns to face Soobin. “Unnie likes you like that.”
Silence falls between them. Soobin switches her gaze from Hyunjung’s face to the door, then to the floor, then to the abandoned cup of coffee over the computer table. Hyunjung keeps staring at her, lips curling up at the scene. A flustered Park Soobin is always a sight to see, for sure.
Soobin frowns, chews on her lower lip, seeming deep in thought. Then, still staring everywhere but Hyunjung, she asks meekly, “What now?”
“What do you mean, what now?”
“God, you’re so frustrating!” Soobin exclaims, runs her fingers through her hair. She gets up from the couch and starts pacing back and forth, muttering nonsense under her breath. Hyunjung worries Soobin might accidentally dig a hole in her bedroom floor with the strength she’s putting in each step. “You like me. You like like me.”
“Do I have to say it again?” Hyunjung chuckles, shakes her head in disbelief. “I do like you. I like you a lot, Soobin-ah—”
“Stop—just stop!” Soobin squeaks, hands resting on each side of her cheeks. Hyunjung can see how flushed her skin is even with Soobin’s useless attempt to hide it. She keeps it to herself, though—Soobin might choke her to death if she dares to comment on it. “I just—I’m going home. See you later.”
“Wait, wait—” Hyunjung jumps out of her bed, grabs Soobin’s wrist before she can get to the knob. “It’s late. Stay over.”
Soobin swats Hyunjung’s hands away as if she’s been electrocuted, eyes all big and panic-stricken. Okay, Hyunjung thinks as she begrudgingly releases Soobin from her hold, now I’m a bit hurt.
Soobin slips out of Hyunjung’s bedroom without uttering another word, leaving Hyunjung bruised, anxious and confused.
“What the hell just happened,” Hyunjung mutters, rushing to grab her phone and type a message to the one person she knows will be, without a doubt, there for her.
김현정 • 11:23 pm
i think i fucked up
근덕이 • 11:25 pm
wow, shocking
김현정 • 11:25 pm
juyeon-ah…
it’s about soobin
근덕이 • 11:26 pm
fuck
i’ll be there in 15 minutes
김현정 • 11:26 pm
bring me some bread
please
근덕이 • 11:27 pm
ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ
you’re unbelievable, unnie
—
“You did what now?” Juyeon asks, eyes threatening to jump out of her skull as she leaves the bread bag over the kitchen table, throwing herself in the empty spot on the couch next to Hyunjung.
“I told Soobin I like her,” Hyunjung repeats, firmer this time. “Then she ran away.”
Juyeon pinches the bridge of her nose, body sinking further into the couch. “Out of nowhere?”
“She asked me,” Hyunjung explains, uneasy. “And I said yes, then—”
“No, no” Juyeon shakes her head and puts a hand up to get Hyunjung to stop talking. Hyunjung complies, blinks a few times. “Tell me exactly how it went down.”
“She came over this afternoon,” Hyunjung starts, making herself more comfortable on the couch and letting her eyes wander through the expansion of her living room ceiling. “We spent time as we usually do, each of us doing our own stuff, talking every once in a while. She was on her phone while I was reading a book in bed when she asked me if I liked her, and I said yes, because I do like her. Everyone knows. I thought she knew, too.”
“Unnie,” Juyeon facepalms, exasperated. “This is Park Soobin we’re talking about. She’s probably mad because you said it so, well—so carelessly. No effort, nothing. Did you even stop reading before you said it?”
Fuck, Hyunjung laments internally, throws one arm over her face. “No?”
“And you’re still wondering why she left?” Juyeon scoffs, irritation and disbelief written all over her face. “Soobin unnie loves attention. Your attention, especially. She was probably waiting for you to, I don’t know, kneel in front of her and confess your undying love for her in a million different ways.”
Hyunjung pauses at that, frown forming on her forehead as she processes Juyeon’s words. It didn’t feel careless to Hyunjung, it felt… natural. The sky is blue, grass is green and Hyunjung likes Soobin, simple as that.
“You think so?”
“I know so,” Juyeon sighs, expression melting into something softer, understanding. Juyeon is too kind for her own good, sometimes. Hyunjung is lucky to have her. “You have to fix this, unnie.”
“I will, I will,” Hyunjung says, even though she has no idea how she’s supposed to fix the mess she dragged herself into.
Hyunjung is a calm, subtle and reserved person. She was convinced that loving Soobin in her own, tranquil way would eventually lead them to their happily ever after, but it turns out that’s not the case. It never occurred to her that, after years of dancing around their feelings and hundreds of displays of devotion—some of them public, in front of their fans and friends, much to the rest of the members’ chagrins—Soobin could be expecting the refined, drama type of confession.
It’s a lot to take in.
“It will be fine, unnie,” Juyeon offers Hyunjung a reassuring smile. “Just don't waste time, okay?”
—
김현정 • 10:35 am
soobin-ah
can we talk?
✓ Seen February 10, 10:35 AM.
김현정 • 02:30 pm
hey
me, sojung and juyeon are going out for dinner tonight
wanna come?
여보 • 02:42 pm
can't, busy
김현정 • 02:42 pm
ah, i see…
let me know when you're free?
✓ Seen February 11, 02:44 PM.
김현정 • 11:15 am
soobin-ah
how long are you going to keep ignoring me? hm?
✓ Seen February 12, 11:15 AM.
Hyunjung lies face down on the bed when she realizes she’s been left on read again, cursing herself a thousand times into her pillows.
This is hell. Hyunjung feels like she’s going through withdrawals—Park Soobin withdrawals, the worst and most violent kind of them all. She isn’t sure how long she’ll be able to function without her daily dose of Soobin, is surprised she even made it this far.
love so sweet - wjsn, yeoreum/yeonjung | canon compliant, fluff | 1.3k | rated t 20, 20 decibel
“It’s time to get up. Come on, Yeonjung-ah.”
“Don’t want to,” Yeonjung whines, pulls the covers over her head. “Leave me alone.”
Yeoreum sighs, drags her hands through her face and groans in frustration. She knew waking Yeonjung up after the two of them stayed up watching movies until three in the morning would be hell, but she gave in to Yeonjung’s request anyway.
Why? Because Yeoreum missed her, terribly so, although she’ll never admit it out loud. Yeonjung would brag about it for months and Yeoreum refuses to give her a reason to tease her for as long as she lives. So she bites her tongue, swallows the words, and decides to show Yeonjung affection in other ways.
Which she kind of regrets now, considering the fact that it’s almost ten and they still have to prepare a cake for Hyunjung before they go to surprise her during music video shooting.
So much for being a fool for Yoo Yeonjung.
“I won’t cook for you anymore,” Yeoreum warns, pokes Yeonjung’s sides over the blanket, laughing quietly behind her fist when Yeonjung tries to slap it away, hands getting tangled in the fabric instead. “I mean it.”
“You wouldn’t dare,” Yeonjung says through a yawn, then pokes her head out. She looks adorable like this, face void of any makeup, eyes soft and puffy. Yeoreum wants to throw herself on top of her and stay there for the rest of the day. “Hi.”
“Hi,” Yeoreum smiles, tugs at the covers, and Yeonjung lets her pull them out of her without complaining this time. “Ready?”
“No,” Yeonjung deadpans, throws an arm over her eyes. “Can’t we just buy her a cake instead?”
Yeoreum rolls her eyes. “Of course not. But fine, keep sleeping if you don’t want to help, i’ll tell Hyunjung unnie you’re not coming anymore and—”
“Fine, fine!” Yeonjung pouts, throwing a glare at Yeoreum once she opens her eyes again. She looks as intimidating as a wet puppy.
“Get your ass up, then!” Yeoreum nags before she steps out of the bedroom, cackling when she hears Yeonjung cursing and telling her to stop treating her as if she’s a spoiled child.
This is bound to be an eventful morning, for sure.
—
It takes around twenty minutes for Yeonjung to join Yeoreum in the kitchen. She’s wearing an oversized blue hoodie, leggings, fluffy brown slippers and her hair is half up, half down. Yeoreum swoons at the sight, wishes she could wrap her arms around her waist and kiss her stupid until their lungs are about to burst.
She can’t, though, so she settles for a smile and motions for her to come closer, proudly showing off all the different sorts of ingredients and cooking supplies she bought for them to bake together.
Yeonjung looks both amused and confused, picking up a few of Yeoreum’s special spoons and bringing them closer to her face to analyze their shapes. Yeoreum giggles at the scene, aware that Yeonjung has no idea what any of them are meant for. “Always prepared, aren’t you?”
“It’s not like I can count on you to remember shit,” Yeoreum blurts out, and before she can keep teasing Yeonjung over how terrible her attention span is, she’s yelping in pain from the strength of Yeonjung’s hand hitting her arm. She scoffs, offended, and slaps her back. It infuriates her how Yeonjung doesn’t budge, standing there as if she’s been hit by a leaf and not by the hand of an adult woman. “What the fuck, Yeonjung! That hurted.”
“Don’t make fun of me and I won’t hit you,” Yeonjung warns, pointing one of the spoons in Yeoreum’s direction. “Simple as that.”
“Whatever,” Yeoreum huffs and decides to let go. Mostly because she knows she can’t stay mad at Yeonjung for too long, but also because they need to get this cake done for once and for all. “Put on your apron.”
Yeoreum puts her hair up in a bun, grabs her apron from where it lays over one of the kitchen chairs and puts it on, dusting it off as she makes sure it’s covering her clothes properly. Last week she forgot to bring hers and the result was Im Dayoung stumbling and pouring a whole glass of milk over one of her favorite shirts.
Yeoreum has learnt her lesson and will not go through that again, thank you very much.
When Yeoreum turns around, Yeonjung is standing in the same place, waving her obnoxiously pink apron around like a flag. Yeoreum lets out a frustrated huff at the sight, pinches the tip of her nose in order to calm herself down.
“What are you doing.”
“Yeoreum-ah,” Yeonjung calls in lieu of an answer, voice a tone higher, batting her eyelashes. “Put it on me.”
The worst—and most humiliating—part of the whole ordeal is that Yeoreum does find the scene cute. Very cute. There’s a lot of annoying things Yeonjung does that are cute in Yeoreum’s eyes, unfortunately. It turns out that being infatuated with someone does make you stupid. Dayoung was right every single time she told her so.
“Fine,” Yeoreum takes the apron from Yeonjung’s hand and stands behind her, putting it on as if being this close to her neck isn’t killing her inside. Yeonjung smells so good it should be a crime. For a second, Yeoreum considers throwing caution to the wind and placing a kiss on her soft, inviting skin. Maybe even turning her around, pressing her against the kitchen sink and—
“Your hands are shaking,” Yeonjung points out, bringing Yeoreum back to planet earth. Yeoreum can hear the grin in her voice, dangerous and vicious, and braces herself for whatever Yeonjung is about to spill out. “You like me that much?”
Yeoreum pushes Yeonjung away as if she’s been burnt and shoots her a glare, feeling a bit silly for acting like she said something absurd. She’s didn’t. Yeonjung’s never been more correct in her whole life. It’s embarrassing, really, how much Yeoreum likes her.
“Stop talking nonsense and get to work,” Yeoreum tries to scold her, but it comes out weak and weird, lacking bite.
Yeonjung laughs out loud, one hand over her chest, head tilting back. Butterflies fly wildly inside Yeoreum’s stomach, and she starts wondering if it’s possible that she’s falling in love with Yoo Yeonjung all over again.
“Yes, captain.”
—
“This is not what we planned last night.”
“What are you talking about? Of course it is.”
“No it’s not!” Yeoreum growls, cleaning her hands on her apron before she grabs her phone, handing it over to Yeonjung. “Look.”
Yeonjung takes Yeoreum’s phone, narrowing her eyes as she analyzes the picture for a while. Then, with a bashful smile on her face, she mutters, “I’m sorry, Yeoreum-ah. I won’t doubt you again.”
“You always say that,” Yeoreum sighs, patting Yeonjung’s shoulders when she sees the—adorable, she might add—pout on her lips. “Stop sulking like a baby, it’s okay.”
“I’m always making things harder for you,” Yeonjung says, and Yeoreum is ready to comfort her, but the gloomy look turns into a devilish smile in the blink of an eye. Uh oh. “Good thing you like me, right?”
Yeoreum scoffs, mouth opening and closing a hundred times as she tries to come up with a mean answer to that, something that will make her seem less like a deer caught in headlights, but unfortunately she’s too soft and too head-over-heels and not at all sharp like the leos of the group, so she bites her tongue, takes a deep breath, and says, “I don’t know where you got that idea.”
“Oh, you want me to give you a list? Alright—”
“No I do not—”
“Remember when I was sick and you canceled all your schedules to stay in the dorm with me—”
“I do that for everyone—”
“And you cooked me all of my favorite foods—”
“That too!”
“And stayed in bed with me the whole day, played with my hair to make me feel better and held me when I couldn’t sleep?”
Fuck, Yeoreum thinks, face burning hot even though it’s the middle of winter.
chasing that feeling - wjsn, bona/yeonjung | hero!au, fwb | 551w | rated m it's all i know
“You,” Yeonjung hisses, removes her mask and shakes her head in an attempt to fix her hair. It’s useless, considering they’re on the rooftop of the tallest building in Seoul right now, wind always cold and unforgiving when you’re this high.
“Me,” Jiyeon sings, not at all bothered by Yeonjung’s disdain for her presence. Her nonchalance only serves to make Yeonjung even more annoyed. “It’s been a long time, Yeonjung-ah.”
“Not long enough,” Yeonjung spits out, mean and sharp. “Why are you back? And why did you look for me?”
“Slow down,” Jiyeon sits at the edge of the building, patting the empty space near her. When Yeonjung refuses to move, she continues, “I missed you. That’s why I’m back.”
Yeonjung scoffs, not believing Jiyeon had the audacity to utter those words. She’s been busy the whole day, relentlessly chasing after clues that would lead her to whatever was causing such a ruckus in the city, only for the culprit to be Kim Jiyeon. Fucking Kim Jiyeon, out of all people.
Last Yeonjung heard, Jiyeon was in Paris screwing some other girl. It was none of her business, but still. It would’ve been nice to have learnt Jiyeon left for another country from Jiyeon herself, not from an apologetic, careful Sojung after a mission debrief.
“Oh, you missed me?” Yeonjung barks through a bitter laugh and the lump forming inside her throat. She’s not one to be overly emotional, but she hasn’t had a second of peace today and she’s exhausted, muscles and bones worn out. All thanks to the woman standing in front of her, acting like this isn’t a big deal. “That’s why you left without saying a fucking word?”
Jiyeon pauses at that, frown visible on her forehead. She’s struggling to come up with something to say, Yeonjung can tell by the way her mouth opens and closes multiple times before she sighs, getting up so she can face Yeonjung properly. Now that they’re standing closer, Yeonjung can see a bruise on her lips and a cut on her cheek. Her hand is patched up, too. Yeonjung almost feels bad for her. Almost.
“I didn’t really know how to say goodbye to you,” Jiyeon confesses, each word dripping with uncharacteristic honesty, fiery gaze burning every inch of Yeonjung’s skin.
All that sincerity is disarming, really—big brown eyes studying her every move, drinking her in, eager for an answer. Yeonjung isn't used to it, not when it comes to Jiyeon.
She refuses to give her what she's silently asking for, though. Kim Jiyeon might be one hell of a sight to see with her dark hair flying against the wind, god-like face sparkling underneath neon lights, but Yeonjung is still hurt.
Hurt enough to not drag Jiyeon to her bedroom and fuck her until she's a panting, whiny mess underneath her, as it usually happens.
“Learn how to be a decent person first, then feel free to try again,” Yeonjung deadpans, hooks a wire around one of the light poles and positions herself on the edge of the building, making sure the equipment is rightfully stuck to her belt before she looks up at Jiyeon one last time. “You better fix all the shit you did today. Terrible way to grab my attention, don't do it again.”
mind if i stay - wjsn, seola/exy | legends of tomorrow!au | 431w | rated t listen to the universe, you may find an answer
“There’s something I need to tell you.”
Hyunjung takes a step closer to Sojung, then another, then one more until their faces are only a few centimeters apart. Sojung notices that Hyunjung’s hands are shaking and feels the familiar urge to reach out and hold them in between hers, but decides against it.
Then the phrase that would haunt Sojung’s every waking thought finally slipped out of Hyunjung’s mouth, carving a dagger into her chest that would leave her bleeding for weeks.
“I love you, Sojung,” Hyunjung confesses, and Sojung's world ends. “I always have.”
—
It’s three in the morning and Sojung is getting ready to fly herself to a whole other decade.
Two weeks ago, the team dropped Yeoreum and Yeonjung in 1963 for a mission in Paris on their own. The visit was supposed to be simple and fast—their goal was to chat with a few students from Sorbonne University, gather some intel about the place, and then contact the team once they were done. But then a week passed, then another one, and the radio silence can only mean one thing: trouble.
Sojung didn’t think twice before owning up to her captain role and taking it upon herself to rescue the two of them. Mostly because the rest of the team can’t afford to get distracted about something else when a time anomaly back in 2014 is threatening to turn the entire universe upside down, but it’s also because she’s been grabbing onto any chance to be alone in the Waverider like a lifeline, no matter how dangerous said chance might be.
She wrote a quick note to the others, letting them know where she’s going and that Jiyeon is in charge until she returns, sticking it to the bedroom door of the house they were staying in for the time being before she finally leaves, backpack hanging over her shoulders.
Sojung rushes to the backyard, uncloaks the Waverider, activates the password and enters the ship, leaving her belongings over one of the seats before she turns around—and it’s only then that, to her terror, Sojung realizes that she’s not alone.
“What are you doing here?”
Sojung despises how mean she sounds as soon as the words slip out of her mouth. Hyunjung doesn’t deserve this. She doesn't deserve to be in love with someone like her. She doesn’t, she doesn’t—
“I’m not letting you go to 1963 alone,” Hyunjung explains, calm and collected, as if the reason was obvious and there was nothing weird about this situation. As if nothing changed. “I’ll come with you.”
all my poetry - triples, sohyun/dahyun | band!au | 1.1k | rated t if i write it, does it matter?
Dahyun steps into Sohyun’s life in the middle of the harshest winter she’s ever faced.
She dropped out of college, her parents kicked her out of their house as retaliation, and to make the whole situation all the more depressing, every single demo she sent to music labels and radio stations were promptly ignored, not even worthy of receiving a single this sucks and we want nothing to do with it as an answer.
Then enters Dahyun, holding the shitty flyer that Nakyoung made in five minutes in her hands, a shy yet determined glow in her eyes as she says, “I’d like to audition for the lead singer spot.”
The sun is here, Sohyun thinks, dumbfounded, unable to form a coherent sentence as Nakyoung and Kotone welcome Dahyun in. God, it’s finally here.
—
It’s easy, working with Dahyun.
She’s punctual, isn’t afraid to voice out her opinions and, Jesus, Sohyun swears she’s never heard anything quite as breathtaking as her voice in her entire life. Even if Dahyun, in some twisted alternative universe, ended up being the most stuck-up, annoying brat she’s ever met in her life, Sohyun thinks she’d still choose to keep her around for sounding as heavenly as she does.
Thankfully, Dahyun is none of those things. Quite the opposite, Sohyun learns as time goes on and their relationship advances from co-workers, to friends, then to really close friends, then to—
“Unnie,” Dahyun asks, fidgets with the hem of her—Sohyun’s—old sweater. Sohyun hums in lieu of an answer, still staring at the computer in front of her, reading through the emails she received from the multiple music executives she contacted the past week with a frown on her face. “Are you seeing anyone?”
Sohyun freezes. Those four words wipe all the apologies from rich men she was previously reading through from her brain.
Sohyun spins around in her chair, taking in Dahyun’s appearance. Sohyun loves how it looks on her, hates that she can’t pull them off of Dahyun’s body herself. “I’m… not?”
Dahyun’s shoulders relax, her gaze softens. Sohyun tries not to delve too much into what that could mean. “You’d tell me—us, if you were, right?”
“Of course,” Sohyun reassures her with a gentle curl of her lips. Dahyun flashes Sohyun a smile of her own, too, and for a brief second they’re stuck in their own little world, until—
“Look! Look!”
Dahyun nearly drops from the couch in reaction to Kotone’s abrupt entrance, and Sohyun would ask her if she was alright, but Nakyoung comes in next, looking as excited as Kotone, and Sohyun figures she should finally give them her full attention.
Seoul Band Festival, reads the words in the paper Kotone is practically shoving into their faces. Sohyun blinks once, twice, then takes the pamphlet being held out to her, reading carefully through all the conditions to sign up for the festival and—
“This is crazy.”
Kotone nods enthusiastically. “Good type of crazy, right?”
“Yeah, too good,” Sohyun laughs in disbelief. She turns to Nakyoung who’s just as enthusiastic as Kotone, then to Dahyun, and all the air is knocked out of her lungs at the sight in front of her.
Seo Dahyun, all teary-eyed, still staring at the announcement as if she’s waiting for the words to change, to make it impossible for them to join the most prestigious festival in the country. Seo Dahyun, meeting her gaze, biting her lower lip to contain a smile that ends up blooming anyway, sparkling with nothing but hope.
Sohyun decides, right then and there, that they’re winning this thing. Hell, she’d give her own life in a heartbeat if it meant Dahyun would keep smiling at her like that.
As soon as the conversation dies down and they start to leave the studio one by one, Sohyun flops back into her chair and allows her heart to guide her art for the rest of the night.
—
The next weeks pass by in a blur.
They spend most—if not all—of their free time in Sohyun’s tiny, cramped-up studio, devoting themselves to their craft. The four of them come up with a bunch of songs—some okay, some good, some straight-up awful and a handful of masterpieces that are worth of being sung by thousands of people in a sold-out stadium—and the more they rehearse, the more hope seems to sink deep into their bones, spreading through their veins and creating an euphoric atmosphere whenever they were together.
And Dahyun, well—she’s still the center of Sohyun’s universe, pulling her into her orbit effortlessly. Sohyun’s too weak to fight against it, takes whatever Dahyun hands her without complaints.
It’s foolish, really. Sohyun knows that. So does Nakyoung and Kotone, because not only have they known Sohyun like the back of their hands for years, they’re also not stupid.
—
There’s a faint knock on the door before it opens, revealing a fresh out the shower Dahyun, wearing a loose pink t-shirt with droplets of water still sticking to her exposed collarbones. Sohyun bites the tip of her own tongue, tries not to stare too much.
“Hi,” Dahyun says, wraps her arms around Sohyun’s shoulders from behind, and Sohyun has to try her best not to get up from her chair and bury her face into Dahyun’s neck. “You called?”
“Mhm,” Sohyun nods, clears her throat in a foolish attempt to hide how flustered she is. “I came up with a song for the festival. Wanna give it a listen?”
Dahyun gives Sohyun’s shoulders one last squeeze before she untangles herself and sits on the empty chair next to her. “Who am I to say no to a Park Sohyun original?”
Sohyun scratches her nape and looks down, hopes Dahyun can’t see the faint hint of red spreading through her cheeks. Dahyun is a compliment machine, has been since day one, but Sohyun still hasn’t figured out how to take them without feeling as if there are thousands of butterflies soaring inside her stomach.
Without saying another word, Sohyun pressed play in the demo she recorded earlier, and leaned back on her chair as she studied each and every single one of Dahyun’s reactions to her song.
Sohyun can feel her ears burning up, and she isn’t quite sure of what to do with her trembling hands, but she refuses to tear her eyes away, eager to drink all of Dahyun in.
When the song ends, Dahyun remains silent. Her eyes keep darting between Sohyun and the computer screen, hands resting over the headphones in her head, unsure if she should take them off or not.
The lack of an immediate reaction makes Sohyun antsy. She isn’t sure what to say or do, doubts she’d be able to survive if Dahyun gave her a negative feedback, which she usually wouldn’t be hurt by, but this song, it’s just—it’s all about—
“Unnie,” Dahyun breathes out, licks her own lips while staring right at Sohyun’s, then continues, “this song is about me, isn’t it?”
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