still ; (suho/chorong)
Ten Thousand Feels
He sees her almost everyday, minus the weekends and the free times he has.
He knows exactly, where she would sit; usually only a few tables besides him.
He notices her tiny, baby-liked voice; that roaming across that little suffocating room, sometimes. It's his favorite lullaby. Sometimes, she would burst into a sudden giggle, throwing her head back laughing. Still, her giggle is always his favorite lullaby.
His eyes would purposely fix on the screen, as random words appeared, overlapping between the thin lines. He flinches his eyes, searching for his favorite face, as he would sneakily steal glances at her.
She would sometimes look bored, he notices. When she yawns, she would cover and stretches her arms.
He thinks, she's cute that way.
She would then pretend to listen to the monotonous voice in front. Nodding once, twice. Blinking, once, twice.
He thinks, she's cute that way.
She would scribble something down on her notebook, or perhaps— busily swiping her fingertips, with her favorite orange-coloured nails, on the screen of her favorite gadget.
He thinks, it's a mischievious act of not paying attention during lectures, but still, she's cute that way.
And randomly, he wishes to become that little device.
When opportunity comes, they would sometimes talk and if he is lucky enough, he could sometimes make her laugh with his dry humors. He doesn't think he was born funny, but strangely, he always finds himself looking for idiotic jokes, hoping that in a slightest way, he could at least, impresses her or he could at least, slowly watches how the curve of her lips would turn into a beautiful smile.
He thinks, she has the prettiest smile ever.
Sometimes, they would exchange their greetings, as they would coincidentally walk passed that same path.
Sometimes, they would only exchange smiles, as no words managed to escape their mouths; only a simple, yet warm smile. He always thinks, those are better than nothing.
"Hi, good morning,"
"Hi, good morning too,"
"Hey, where are you going?"
"Umm— off to do some bussiness? you? (chuckles),"
"Hey, are there any foods left at the cafe?"
"Umm— sadly, no. I'm hungry too,"
"Oh, you look pretty today,"
"Thank you (smiles),"
"No, have I ever told you that you look the prettiest to me, everyday?"
That last sentence, how he'd wish he could let that escape.
He still sees her almost everyday.
He still tries to talk to her in every chance he gets.
He still attempts to be funny.
He still steals glances at her sneakily.
He still, somehow likes her.
For three years, Joonmyun wishes that Chorong was his and not somebody else's lover.
The idea came to me, while I couldn't pay attention to my lectures.
Strangely, SuRong came to my mind while I was scribbling this.
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