#3 of One-Word Prompt Series

Just a little bit of randomness set in the good old Roommate days.

AN: Please leave some feedback in the comments to let me know your thoughts/suggestions.  Also, those who leave feedback also get an invite to the unlisted Holiday version of Thinking Out Loud.  Chapter one is already up!

Thanks and Happy reading!

 

It is quite often these days that Jackson and Youngji find themselves alone, sans roommates in their Roommate share house. It is ironic when you think about it. Kang Joon has not been home in weeks, and Youngji rarely sees Guk Joo who gets in and leaves at all kinds of odd hours these days.

 

It is during one of these lonely nights that Jackson convinces Youngji to sneak out with him at midnight to walk to the local convenience store for ice cream, which somehow turns into late night drinking and street food at a neighborhood food stall. 

 

“Sssshhhhh!” Jackson hisses to Youngji, pointer finger pressed to his lips as they stumble tipsily towards the front door of their Seongbuk-dong house.  It has been hours since they left for the local mart, and he worries that someone must have noticed their disappearing act by now.

 

 She mirrors the gesture back at him, fumbling comically to select the right finger, lips pursed in a ready pout and eyes glassy.  Jackson takes in the rosy pink flush of her cheeks, watches her lips split into a goofy grin when she succeeds, and laughs in spite of himself. 

 

Youngji has apparently not yet discovered her alcohol tolerance limit and is much drunker than he is at the moment (though Jackson drank the greater portion of the four bottles of soju they shared).  

 

Other things he has discovered: 

Drunk Youngji is giggly and laughs loudly with abandon. He is addicted to its melodic sound. Drunk Youngji gets distracted and wanders easily.  He almost lost her twice on their walk home. Drunk Youngji is handsy – slipping her arm through his without hesitation while they walk in sync, fingers curling around his biceps while she leans against him.

It is a sticky, humid summer night, made warmer still by the alcohol in their system, but Jackson does not mind the added heat of the length of her side pressed against him in the least.

 

Jackson shifts his attention from her face to the lock on the front door, bending at the waist to bring his head close to the knob. He squints at the lock as if it will sharpen his focus,