Always Her Genre: Fluff \\ Word count: 1890 Pairing: Mark (NCT) x Koeun (SR16G)

              He really couldn’t deny that it was always her. He couldn’t even pinpoint exactly when his feelings for her even started. To him, they seemed just as constant in his life as his mother nagging him, as relevant as the weather, as impactful as a surprise quiz in math class, and as unchanging as his phone’s lock screen wallpaper. The photo was, of course, one of her dozing in class, a photo which he always said he’d delete and she always complained about, but neither of them ever actually taking action about it. He’d wake up in the morning and wonder if she was already awake, or still asleep. He’d brush his teeth, appraising his drowsy self in the mirror, while pondering about how her toothpaste would smell, which taste she liked best, and whether or not she possibly, maybe, noticed how he sometimes had bad breath. Eating breakfast, mindlessly scrolling through his phone, he’d recall how they sat on the swings at their middle school playground one summer, and argued, from sunset until the evening mosquitos became too much for the both of them to bear, about the best way to fry an egg. His ears would turn red from recalling how embarrassingly funny it was for him to argue with the self-proclaimed “master chef”, when he didn’t even know how to boil water back then. Daydream after daydream would carry him through his morning, until his mother would nag him about being late for school, causing him to blame his smartphone for being too interesting (when really, it wasn’t the smartphone that was distracting and delaying him). 

             Luckily for him, he never had to just picture her for very long. Every morning, not even three minutes into his leisurely trek to school, she would appear out of nowhere and charge at him like a little ox, effectively shocking him out of his reveries. It was funny how thoughts of her during her absences would merely be replaced by new observations about her while she was present beside him. The questions and curiosities about her were never ending; even though they were the best of friends and knew each other so well already, he never seemed to be able to learn enough about her. Maybe it was the way she always smiled when saying his name, or maybe just the way she smiled, period. Or maybe it was the way her voice seemed to change whenever she called his name (and if he didn’t know any better, he’d think his name was ‘Yah, Mark!’); everything about her just made him want to know her more, know her differently. So they would proceed to school together, with him being his normal, distracted self, and her clucking disapprovingly when he blames his spaciness on lack of sleep.

             There was one particular period, during their first year of high school, when he felt so strongly for her that he could’ve sworn it was love. Although he knew, and his older friends never failed to remind him whenever he went on and on about her, that he’d look back on this period and be embarrassed about how a fourteen year old could possibly believe it was anything more than a crush, he, like any other foolishly infatuated youngster, would silently swear that it had to be deeper than that. And really, did it matter if his older self would look back and be ashamed? To the hot-blooded, passionate younglings, it’s the only thing they knew, and just because people who are older wouldn’t define it as “real” love, it could not diminish nor change the significance of those strong feelings that they once had. But of course, like any other fickle young lad, his feelings for her just about evaporated after he went back to Canada that summer, and consequently couldn’t see her for a few months (which, to teenagers, is a long period of time).

            The next two years of high school went by in a blur. He remained friends with her, but his feelings for her were minimal. Minimal, but still ever-present, like a background app that he kept forgetting to close on his phone. He grew up a lot that first summer of high school, and continued to mature the next two years. People drifted in and out of his life, but she stayed constant. Naturally, other girls would catch his attention too, during this period of time. Like the sophomore girls volleyball team captain, Kang Nari, with her rounded face and full pink lips, whom he became quite good friends with, much to the chagrin of his male friends who pointed out she had a certain reputation (which was rid