of bad coffee (and tinder messages).
3206 w, fluff.
sehun;seulgi

Seulgi scrunches her nose distatefully at her phone as it rings from a notification. And then it rings again.

Tinder is a disaster, naturally, but Seulgi consoles herself and somehow manages to convince herself with the knowledge that even though it is a disaster, it was at the very least a hilarious disaster. She’d initially downloaded the app ironically—and to spite Jongin, cause y’know, ex-boyfriends and all that, but she’d never actually admit that—and she still uses it ironically, but apparently using the dating app ironically isn’t mutually exclusive to constantly checking whether she has any new matches or not.

The app is mostly full of sad hipsters with hair that covers their eyes and a cigarette laced between their fingers, college boys with pictures of stacks of beer cans, professional keg-stands, strobe lights and too many girls around their arms, and the occasional boy with a cute looking puppy. Of course. They always use the puppies. On the few occasions she manages to convince herself to actually swipe right, she’s bombarded with the messages asking if she gives s—only on Sundays, to make god happy, she’d reply—or if she’s down for a —not if you’re there, when she’s feeling annoyed—and as far as pick-up attempts go, almost all of them can be found on the first link you click on the google homepage after searching for ‘pickup lines to use on Tinder’. She’s checked. Her Tinder experience had been generally quite saddening, almost pathetic for the male gender, and as gross and unsubtle as being grinded on at a high school dance. She shivers at the thought.

Until she stumbles upon the Holy Grail of all profiles.

O.S.H, 22.

2.3 miles away. Active 4 hours ago.

His pictures—

They’re stupid, in an annoyingly attractive, almost drop-dead kind of way.

Like, he’s handsome, obviously, not in the traditional Abercrombie and Fitch model type of handsome, but slightly lankier, with high cheekbones and deep set eyes and an annoyingly sharp jawline that could cut better than her safety scissors, probably. But then again, anything can cut better than safety scissors. His lips are full and pouty and he doesn’t smile in any of his pictures; they’re all black and white and he’s just gazing, staring deeply, that she almost feels uncomfortable. His hair is swept to the side, in that neat-messy kind of way that models do, and he has a black bomber jacket and black shirt—scratch that, everything is black—and wait. Did he actually get professional headshots for his Tinder profile?

Seulgi stares.

She narrows her eyes.

She tilts her phone from side to side, almost throws it at a wall, trying to search for an angle that he doesn’t look like near perfection in, like a damn Burberry model who’d just come off of a runway in Paris—she then scrolls through the rest of his pictures and wonders how a person like this could even exist. And why they exist.

To make people feel bad about themselves, probably?

Seulgi definitely feels bad about herself, after looking at this guy.

Bemused and vaguely offended, she skims his about section and reads—

I enjoy coffee dates (I only drink black, by the way, and not that Starbucks bull that everyone’s crazy about). Enjoys travelling the world to experience new things. Graduated as the valedictorian from Seoul National University this year, now starting my own company. Thorough and attentive in all aspects of life. (By the way, if it makes a difference, I drive a Porsche.)

She tries to hold in a sarcastic laugh and mutters what-a-pretentious- under her breath.

She hesitates.

She swipes right, shrugs, and locks her phone.

oOo

(12:43 am) Hello, Seulgi-ssi.

(12:43 am) I’ve been informed that we are, apparently,
‘A Match.’

(12:43 am) And I’m willing to overlook your incredulous
language choices and the grammatical errors on your profile
because you are, in fact, conventionally attractive and we
seem to have some similar past times.

(12:44 am) I look forward to getting to know you better.

(12:44 am) Sincerely, Oh Sehun.

wow. did i just walk into an arranged marriage meeting
or something? (12:52 am)

0/10. (12:53 am)

your perfect grammar and sentence structure
despite your usage of tinder almost scares me. (12:54 am)

also, conventionally attractive? (12:54 am)

what a compliment, sehun. (12:54 am)

(1:18 am) I’ll have you know

(1:18 am) That it works on a majority of attractive
females that I talk to on this app.

(1:18 am) Practically infallible.

obviously not well tested enough. (1:19 am)

that valedictorian position rly didn't teach you much
about sample sizes, did it? how many girls have you
matched with anyways, 5? (1:19 am)

try again, pretty boy. (1:20 am)

(1:21 am) You reply pretty quickly for someone
that seems so uninterested.

ur really annoying. (1:46 am)

(1:48 am) You’re doing the thing where you purposely
reply late so it seems like you’re uninterested, right?

(1:49 am) How obvious of you.

oh will you shut up????
i’m trying to sleep but your
notifications are annoying af, sehun. (1:50 am)

(1:50 am) Fine.

(1:51 am) Only if you go out with me for coffee tomorrow.

Seulgi grits her teeth and the grip around her phone tightens as he replies back at nearly lightning speed.

okay, fine. (2:00 am)

starbucks in gangnam. (2:01 am)

(2:08 am) …Are you trying to poison me?

oOo

Her stomach nearly does two consecutive cartwheels followed by a sommersault when he walks inside the Starbucks; his face scrunched in distaste, as if he’d just stepped in a pile of week old dog feces and other gross things that she doesn’t want to think about while eating her her chocolate croissant. He looks as pretentious as he did in his display pictures; he’s wearing a tweed blazer over a speckled grey sweater, a white collar popping up from underneath and black trousers that show off his long, long legs. They’re almost nicer than hers. She’s slightly offended by this.

He doesn’t immediately spot her, but when he does, he lowers his sunglasses onto the bridge of his nose and looks at her calculatingly, appraisingly, and nods when he’s finally in front of her. His mouth twitches at the sight of the chocolate croissant in her hand.

Sehun takes the seat across from her, only touching everything with two fingers—which she snorts at quietly—and gently takes off his sunglasses, placing them on the wooden table that separates the two of them as he folds his hands in front of him. His scent is a mix of musky and sweet, strong, and almost too strong, but she likes it—which she notices to be Tobacco Vanille by Tom Ford, which she’d gifted her ex-boyfriend for their 2nd anniversary, and quietly nods in approval.

“What?”

His voice is haughty and sarcastic, a slight lisp coming out as he speaks, and it’s much higher than she’d expected it to be—but it suits him more than she ever expected it would. She purses her lips and wipes crumbs off of her face.

“Such a good first impression to leave on someone,” Seulgi rolls her eyes and Sehun’s posture stiffens.

“My apologies.”

“Do you always talk like you have a stick shoved up your ?” Seulgi scoffs, “Or is that just the sweet smell of overprivileged I’m hearing?”

“You invited me to a Starbucks-”

“—and I obviously did it to spite you.”

“—you a twelve year old boy picking