(x) two.

Jongin stuffed his hands further into his pocket, trying his best to conceal clenched fists. No matter how much he tried to relax his tense fingers, they remained terrifyingly taut. Trying to make small talk was the worst type of suffering to him. He'd never been much of a talker, and it was becoming glaringly apparent in the situation he was in. His eyes were suddenly fixated on little details of the ground, not wanting to look up in the fear of their eyes meeting. He didn't want to get caught staring at her, but everything about the woman seemed magnetic, and he kept feeling his eyes drifting up to see her.

At the moment, all he wanted to do was pick up where they left off.

To lay next to each other and talk about everything that happened to be on their minds with no filters whatsoever. It was the way it had always been-- one talked, one listened intently. Jongin did most of the listening, but he didn't mind all too much. The boy liked to hear Soojung speak, he liked to hear the rising and the falling of her speech, every little inflection and cadence. He liked to listen even if she was talking about something that made no sense to him; she complained about pointless things, describing every mundane thing she spoke of in frustratingly specific detail. Heated discussions were a given, friendly (and not so friendly) debates that often ended in wrestling or crying or kissing.

A jolt of cold reality hit him when he realized that it was unlikely they could just go back to normal. Ten years was a long ing time.

"You quit modeling?" he asked, still looking at the ground.
 

What Jongin really wanted to ask her was if she had gotten married. If she was coping well after her scandal. If her parents had ended up getting the divorce that they were always talking about. If her favorite parakeet, Bo, had died.

Yet he had set the trap again, and he was forced into reliving everything that had happened. Jongin knew the reason why she had stopped, it had been everywhere. You wouldn't have been able to pass by a single gossip site or scroll past more than five social media posts before stumbling onto something related to the infamous drunken tape.

Kim Myungsoo was a top model and award-winning actor. He was young and handsome, exceptionally talented for his age with a thriving fanbase. The guy was young and reckless enough to make a plethora of stupid mistakes, but for some inconceivable reason, he was always forgiven. The public ing loved him, no matter what he did. Girls pined over him, boys idolized him, mothers would want him to be their son-in-law-- all because of the fabricated face he showed the people. With each scandal and misdemeanor, he would drag along yet another unassuming person. Many times, it was with an up-and-coming woman in the media's eyes, and the young actor was completely oblivious to it. In the case of the scandalous video, Soojung, who was just starting to earn some recognition in the modeling world, fit the bill just right.
 

Jongin would be lying if he said he didn't feel something horrible pulling at his insides every time he saw parts of that damned video. It caused a deep, sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, impossible to get rid of.

And it was a million times worse as an entertainment journalist; it was his job to be the one to fuel the fire that the video created. Every clickbait title he wrote made him want to crawl into a ball. Guilty flames would crawl up his neck when he wrote articles about the situation, but he had to do it. He felt an almost physical pain at the sight of the video-- Soojung with flushed rosy cheeks. Soojung kissing her way down Myungsoo's pale neck, slurring unidentifiable words together and giggling before pulling her dress up over her head. Soojung's porcelain skin revealed to the world. She looked even smaller, more fairy-like next to the broad-shouldered man, and Jongin knew she was hopelessly drunk from the playful lilt of her voice, the overjoyed laughs. As far as he remembered, her tone was always low. Flat and serious, with the occasional change to make way. Like she had already seen everything there was to see in the world, she dropped in and out of conversations simply because they bored her. It was just the way she was, and it was never questioned before.

It felt wrong, it felt like he had been wronged, knowing that others-- people who didn't know her personally, intruders--  had seen the same delicate features he had once seen.  Back then, he had been angry. Angry that the entire world could see her in such a way, that people could pry into her life and see her antics from the point of view of a lover.  Jongin knew he had been the very first, on that rooftop, and it plagued his mind in a way that made him feel guilty. The fact that pride blossomed in his chest when he remembered was enough to make him feel ashamed.

He was ashamed, ashamed that he was some sort of stalker that lived in his fantasy, allowed to move on with his life to new people and new relationships, but in his mind, Soojung was this... being, frozen in time. She was his past, a manic pixie dream girl. Through the years, Jongin hadn't imagined that she would also go on with life. Soojung would live and love like any other. She had to, yet he didn't want her to live or love someone that wasn't him.
 

Why did he always feel so possessive of her? They hadn't even shared a single word in years, not a friendly e-mail or a letter or even fateful glimpse as he passed the building of her agency every day for years. It was like fate or divine intervention was keeping them from seeing each other again. Perhaps Jongin was messing up the natural order of things, by showing up in front of her. And it wasn't like she belonged to him, after all. She was independent and had been since they were young. Regret graced itself upon him in an instant. He was ing insane for doing this, for thinking for a fleeting millisecond that he would come back and she'd leap into his arms. He was insane.

The corner of Soojung's lips tilted into a graceful smile.
 

"Yeah, modeling... it, um, wasn't for me," she mumbled after a moment too long, something wistful in her voice. One could instantly tell from the way she said it she was lying. Soojung was obsessed with the idea of being a model, every waking moment of her adolescence, she had talked about modeling. She thrived in front of a camera, and Jongin was always the one behind it. They talked about it a lot, as kids. Soojung would be a rich and successful supermodel, he would be a mega-rich screenplay writer with dozens of titles under his belt.
 

Soojung grimaced inwardly at the thought of the incident. A headline on a gossip site flashed through her head.

" UP AND COMING MODEL JUNG SOOJUNG: FALLEN FROM GLORY?"

It was the type of clickbait everyone wanted to see, and it revealed everything that happened in the worst possible way. It was an idiotic thing for her to do, everything that she had done that night. Going home with that man was a mistake, the beautiful man whom she thought she loved so, so dearly. She didn't even remember what had happened that night properly, a blur of bare skin in her mind. After the video was 'accidentally' leaked, Soojung had assumed that they would continue to support each other through the scandal. All he really did was use her and kick her to the curb with the most half-assed reasoning she had ever heard in her life, an excuse to get out of a scandal unscathed. Again. Every time she flipped past an editorial of him or saw do even a stupid cameo in a movie, a shudder would shoot through her. It was her fault. She was the one that went home with him, to that lofty, mansion of a place that he called his house. At that moment, he seemed absolutely perfect, every part of him. They had an odd relationship, the two of them, but neither talked about it. Did they love each other? Did they ever? She didn't want to spare a valuable thought to it. She simply hadn't noticed the camera then, she didn't bother to think of the possible consequences. It was simply a man she idolized and one too many cans of beer.
The aftereffects of the scandal hit harder than expected. Once the gossip sites got a hold of the video, everything was in the hands of the public. It was quickly spread around, the comments from the internet scathingly critical. Things like, 'What was the thinking? Half a page in Vogue and she thinks she's all that?' and telling her to let go of her career while it lasted. And, slowly but surely, Soojung felt it slipping through her fingers.

Soojung's longtime agency told her to "take a break."  Other models looked at her with a strained, fabricated look of sympathy in their cold eyes. She knew that, secretly, they were relieved it wasn't them in her position. The loss of Soojung from the industry only meant more opportunities for them, so why would they feel sympathy? Taking over the apartment was the only way to get some sort of feeling of control, and proceeding to topple down deeper and deeper into the depths of alcohol so she wouldn't have to think about any of it anymore was simply a method to cope. It worked-- temporarily, at least

After arranging payments, the pair shuffled out into the brisk night air, retrieving Jongin's suitcases from his car. Soojung could tell from the fond expression on his face that the beat-up car meant something to him. It was dented in several places with more scratches than someone could count, but he was looking at the thing like it was a brand new Ferrari. He was quite the light packer, just two suitcases of things. Two suitcases. Soojung looked dubiously at him before grabbing the smaller of the bags and dragging it along with her. She stopped, turning to face him for possible conversation.

"What have you been up to lately?" She finally asked, hoping it had been said in at least a semi-casual manner. Jongin paused. What was he supposed to say?

"Oh, you know. Here and there. Work." Soojung looked up at him. She wanted to inquire further, her fingers curled around the suitcase's handle, gripping it tighter to the point of snow-white knuckles.

"Did you get married?"
 

There. She had said it. What Jongin had been waiting to ask her for the whole span of the conversation.

"Yeah," Her heart dropped. "Uh, no. Sort of." Jongin faltered in a way that could be mistaken as sorrow for his lost marriage. "Not anymore."
The woman's eyes widened, and she looked down immediately. He was still staring at her, words sitting on the tip of his tongue.

"Did you?"

Silence.

"No."

☼

The two walked back to the apartment in complete silence, the only sound being the shuffling shoe-soles and the faint sound of wailing police sirens in the distance. Jongin turned his head to her in the hopes of breaking the awful silence, only to see that she was already facing towards two other people, a young looking man and a little girl, four years old at most. Her older brother? The girl had a fluorescent bottle of bubble solution in her little hands, toddling around energetically with translucent bubbles floating in the midnight sky. She giggled and her eyes widened happily when she caught sight of Soojung, running into her arms.

"Soojung-unnie, Soojung-unnie!"

The man's mouth formed a tired smile at the sight, and Jongin felt his lips being pulled into something like a smile, as well. There was a look of pure, delighted joy in her eyes that warmed his insides. The two strangers and Soojung shared some kind of special connection, he knew immediately. Soojung lifted the girl, balancing her on her right hip as she walked towards the man. She beckoned over Jongin, and he awkwardly jogged over.

"This is Junmyeon," Soojung introduced shortly, her eyes darting between the two. The men both nodded in slight acknowledgment. "This little angel right here is Aerin," she smiled, nuzzling the baby's cheek with her nose. Junmyeon scoffed, rubbing his temples.

"More like a little devil. She drank some of my coffee earlier and hasn't sat down since dinner." The girl giggled giddily, running around in circles, staring at each bubble in awe. The man, Junmyeon, cleared his throat, motioning Soojung to sit on the steps next to him. Jongin, being as close in distance as he was to the two, couldn't help but eavesdrop a little.

Junmyeon put his head between his hands, clearly stressed.

"Soojung-ah, I..."
She put a delicate hand on his knee, patting it reassuringly, almost as if she already knew what he was going to say.
"I...They haven't paid me yet, Soojung. It's been months," he whispered, trying to not catch the attention of the little girl. "I-I'll move back to her parents' place or something. I hate being a burden here." Unshed tears shone in his eyes when Jongin dared to take a glance at the two.

"No!" Soojung exclaimed, suddenly clutching his hand tightly. Jongin looked away, back to the skyline, feeling like he was intruding on something far too personal. He strained to hear their whispered words.

"No, no. Junmyeon, you can't go back there, they won't accept you. I'm okay with you not paying for the meantime, I understand, but you can't go back to your in-laws. Please. You two are my family, you can't go." Jongin was stunned at the emotion held in her words, he was a hundred percent sure that her voice had remained a single tone the entire time they had been talking. A grateful smile came back to Junmyeon's face at her words, and he looked like he had aged ten years in the few minutes they were talking.

"You really are amazing, Soo. Please don't change." At that, Soojung cracked half a smile. She picked Jongin's luggage back up, waving a quick goodbye to Aerin, who had tired herself out and was slumped against Junmyeon's knee.
 

Jongin and Soojung walked back to the apartment again, a more burdensome silence in the air.

"I know you were listening." The young woman blurted out, slicing through the quiet. It was like Soojung needed to talk about anything to shed the frustratingly somber soundlessness.

"He's younger than us, you know. He got married when he was twenty-one because his wife was pregnant with Aerin."
Jongin couldn't hide the surprise from his face at her words. He was only twenty-five at most, but looked like he had already lived through his entire life already.

"Where's his wife?"
No response came for a few moments, and in his peripheral vision, he noticed Soojung shift uncomfortably, adjusting her glasses that had slid down the bridge of her nose. She fiddled with the frayed ends of her shorts before glancing back at him. Pain was swelling in her eyes.

"Jin-ah, she... passed away when Aerin was one. They had been living with her parents, and once she was gone, they started treating the two of them... really badly. Junmyeon and Aerin have lived here ever since I became the landlady-- my longest-running clients, I suppose,” she smiled.
“Actually, I consider them something like a family rather than clients. Aerin needs someone to be a mother figure, and I think I filled the spot in for her. I tell Junmyeon to marry again, for Aerin, but he…” Soojung rubbed her eyes, sighing defeatedly. She wasn't going to mention that Junmyeon proposed to her a year before, solely for his child. She had never said it to anyone, a well-kept secret between two. “He really loved Jin-ah. You understand, right?”

He didn't really understand. Maybe it was because what he felt for Seulgi through the years was hardly real love. It was something more like an obligation, a relationship in which everything else in his life would work out if it went smoothly. Which of course, it didn't.
 

☼

Soojung and Jongin tiptoed across the hallways of the first floor, trying to be as quiet as possible, considering the hour. Jongin was taken aback by how… bright everything was.

The walls were covered in murals and paint. Some murals were absolutely ty and some could've been painted by Michelangelo himself. It was a glorious mess, an absolute catastrophe, but it worked somehow. One entire section of the wall was a chalkboard, random words scribbled in chalk all over it. He could make out sentences and words-- things like ‘I, Jung Soojung, do solemnly swear that I will do everyone on this floor’s laundry if they all come home before 2 AM this week’ and little sketches of puppies and pink hearts. Soojung seemed to catch his roaming eyes.

“The people in this apartment are basically all college kids, or around our age. They're a little… enthusiastic, to say the least,” her voice was flat, albeit with a hint of hidden affection. She shifted around, pushing a hair behind her ear thoughtfully as if reconsidering. “They're well-meaning, though. If they offer you drinks at three in the morning, just go ahead and drink the cheap with them. It won't hurt.” She paused, peering at him through thick lashes. “I mean, if you still drink of course.”

Jongin almost laughed until he realized she was serious. Of course, he still drank.  The divorce had him a borderline alcoholic, something he, or his liver, never really recovered from. Soojung smirked at the reaction, promptly pointing to a faded pink door.
 

“Your new home. Go ahead and make yourself comfortable. I'm right next door, so if you have a question, just yell.”

Jongin must have looked puzzled. She grinned, knocking on the wall. A strange, hollow noise echoed through the hallway

“The walls are a bit thin," she explained. A bit seemed like a bit of an understatement.

 ☼☼☼

Less than an hour had passed since Jongin had been introduced to his new home, and he had already unpacked everything that he owned-- which wasn't much in the first place. Two empty suitcases lied open on the floor, his few pairs of clothes neatly folded and pushed against a wall. The apartment was stark white, in contrast to the various faded colors outside. He sighed and leaned against a barren wall, his eyelids just starting to droop with exhaustion when a jarring knock outside his front door startled him awake. He rubbed his eyes as he walked towards the door, fumbling with the unfamiliar lock. When he opened the door, he almost jumped backward.

"What the hell..." He murmured, rubbing his eyes again to make sure he wasn't in a strange alternate-universe dream.
Two girls were standing in front of him, with paper cones on their heads that looked vaguely like birthday hats. They had bright pink feather boas around their neck, and the shorter of the two held several familiar green bottles of soju cradled in her arms like babies.

"Welcome!" One exclaimed, sliding a boa around Jongin's neck. The other threw a handful of confetti into the air. He immediately inhaled a fuschia feather, sneezing loudly. For the next few hours, Jongin would be shedding glitter from every nook and cranny of his being.

"Bless you!" The tall one responded instantly, her cheeks fiercely pink like peaches. He wondered if she was tipsy, or always blushing. "We consider ourselves the official welcoming committee of this floor. I'm Jinri," the tall one said again, sounding all too enthusiastic while fixing the paper hat that was lopsided on her head. Was the hat made of... construction paper?
"This is Sunyoung." 

The short girl coughed.  "It's Luna." She threw a menacing glare at Jinri, but turned around and smiled sweetly at Jongin. Jinri rolled her eyes.

"Anyway, we have Welcome Brownies and Alcohol. It's our tradition for all the new neighbors," she said simply, as if their actions didn't need any more explanation. The two waltzed in the door without a word to Jongin, their boas leaving trails of sparkly strings and feathers behind them. He suddenly had a flashback to when Soojung told him about the people who lived in the apartment-- the kids who offered to drink at 3 in the morning. Jongin glanced at the clock. 3:15. It was oddly specific that Soojung thought of that time unless it was a regular occurrence.

The women walked into the kitchen, and Jinri leaned closer to the man-- so close their noses almost touched. Jongin fidgeted, pulling back instinctively.  She was practically a baby, only cute in the endearing, child-like way.

"You're cute," she finally said, matter-of-factly. Luna scoffed, pulling the aluminum foil off the dish of brownies. 

"Don't mind her. She's always like this. And she doesn't like boys, anyway." The girl's tone was flat in comparison to Jinri's lively banter. Jinri pouted, reaching out a long arm for a brownie. She bit into the dessert, and the telltale smell of something burnt wafted up Jongin's nose.

"Does that mean I can't appreciate this man's beauty?"

"Choi Jinri, I have this oddly vivid memory of you telling me that the thought of a made you want to curl into a ball and cry. I hope I didn't imagine that statement, you fake ."

"Nevertheless!" Jinri said cheerfully, completely ignoring Luna and booping Jongin's nose in a way that would have normally frustrated him. In contrast, he remained only mildly amused. 

"You got cups? Or shot glasses?" Luna asked curiously, opening each cabinet of the kitchen only to find them empty. She furrowed her eyebrows, only then noticing how completely bare the room was. There were no chairs or drawers or tables. "Do you have any furniture? At all?" Jongin smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck to signify he didn't. It hadn't even occurred to him he'd need it, and his nice furniture was most likely wasting away in Seulgi's house.

"Ooh, mysterious. I like it!" Jinri giggled. She gasped, looking around at the empty room. "Are you a-" her voice lowered, dropping an octave as if someone would hear her "a drug dealer? If you are-" The girl winked, before bursting into another fit of giggles. Jongin almost choked on his feather boa.

Luna rolled her eyes, taking another look at every corner of the kitchen, shrugged. She opened a bottle of the drink and took a swig right out.
 

 "I'll ask Soojung-unnie to bring some stuff over," Jinri said. She paused. "I'll get that - Sehun, too."
 Soojung-unnie. So they had to be younger. The man wondered if they were in college. Did college kids usually drink this much? College seemed like something so long ago to him, a distant memory. Jongin expected the long-legged girl to walk out the door and go to Soojung's place, but she simply swung open the front door, leaning outside. 

"Soojung-unnie!" she called sweetly. "We're having a welcome party for my new husband here, could you bring some beer or cups, pretty please? Actually, beer and cups! We think he's a drug dealer and he doesn't have anything at all in his apartment!" Jongin heard a muffled response from across the wall that sounded vaguely like confirmation.
Jinri cleared , turning in a different direction in preparation to yell for someone else.

"HEY, OH SEHUN!" She yelled, cupping her hands around . Her expression was distinctly different from her sweet bird call to Soojung. "WE'RE HAVING BROWNIES AND DRINKS, GET YOUR BEANPOLE  OVER HERE BEFORE WE FINISH EVERYTHING,  YOU UGLY PIECE OF ." 

Moments later, Soojung and a tall, broad-shouldered man were sitting cross-legged on his floor. Every guest had either a sparkly set of plastic beads around their necks, or a multicolored feather boa wrapped around them. Each had a cup in front of them, along with a half-burnt brownie on a napkin. Only the  man looked slightly uncomfortable. His long legs were folded under him in a way that looked far from comfortable and he wouldn't stop shifting around. And his knees were touching Soojung's. Jongin blinked, wondering why his brain had decided to focus in on that specific detail. Jinri looked like a proud mother, clapping her hands together.

"The whole gang is here!" She said. "I mean, except for Junmyeon, but he has all those important single father things to do," the brunette explained giddily, her words already slightly slurred from the alcohol. Jongin couldn't help but wonder if every one of the girl's sentences ended with an exclamation point. Her voice made his head hurt. 

"Time for speed introductions! I'm Jinri, twenty-four years of age. I'm an artist, sort of. The murals in the hallways are the work of yours truly, Welcome Party Planner Extraordinaire, the mastermind behind all of the night's events. I like puppies and drawing and... girls," she finally said. She pointed at Luna. "Park Sunyoung-- although now she's suddenly become Luna. She's my best friend, twenty-two, and a stripper-" Luna frowned.

"Private dancer," she interjected, and Jinri waved her off. 

"Same thing, same thing. She's also a literature major and the smartest person I know." Luna laughed incredulously, but still looked content with the compliment. Her finger swung around, wiggling in the direction of Soojung.
"Jung Soojung, twenty-eight, and a magical fairy of light who is the most beautiful woman in the world. Also former model. Also owns the aprtment. Also, will beat your if you make a mess-- trust me, personal experience." Jongin looked at Soojung, who made eye contact with him and shrugged. 
"Finally, Sehun. He's my half brother and twenty-one, I think, and he's useless. And tall. And quiet. He and Soojung are buddies because they both have serious commitment issues, but that's supposed to be a se-" Jinri gasped when she realized what she had said, clasping her hands over and giggling nervously. "-cret. Whoops, wasn't supposed to say that. Everyone on the floor just pretends we don't hear moans every night," She stopped mid-sentence, instant regret flashing on her face. She stuffed with a brownie, likely to shut herself up. Soojung's cheeks were burning red as the words registered in her mind, and Sehun looked away, running a hand through his hair. Luna smacked Jinri, her eyes narrowed as she whispered something angrily in her ear. Heavy silence floated around the room, and Soojung rubbed her eyes before grabbing a bottle of soju and gulping it down. Everyone watched as the clear liquid drained from the bottle at an alarming speed, all concerned. She looked at the young man, but Sehun quietly muttered something about work to do and sauntered out of the apartment, slamming the door shut behind him. Luna and Jinri tried to keep their composure as they both smiled in unison at Jongin like nothing out of the ordinary had just happened, and he was purely confused.

Soojung? And a twenty-one year old?  Jongin thought about when he was twenty-one, how he had started dating Seulgi. It felt like ages ago. 

The rest of the night passed comfortably, the two girls tried to make it fun with getting to know you games and drinking games and other things that made Jongin grateful that his mind was not dwelling on the subject of Soojung being friends-with-benefits with a guy, that happened to be her neighbor. And the neighbor wasn't Jongin. He got to learn about Jinri through various, extremely animated story sessions, and that Luna had strange sleeping habits. Really strange, like sleeping with her eyes open and dancing in her sleep. By the end of the night, all the girls in the apartment knew about his unfortunate marriage, and he could feel Soojung's eyes on him as he spoke. The younger girls held on to each other, adding occasional input ("that !" or "was she hot?" or "but how was the ?"). Eventually, Jinri and Luna got so drunk that they passed out, slumped next to each other and propped up against a wall. Jongin hadn't drunk much, but Soojung couldn't say the same. She could handle the alcohol significantly better than the other two, but her face was a permanent rosy pink, and she was talking. A lot.

She talked fast and about meaningless things, things like how there was a couple who lived on the third floor who hadn't paid rent in months, but Soojung was too nice to kick them out yet, because she knew what it was like to not have enough money. When she ranted, she was just the same as she had been years ago. Her eyes were bright and Jongin thought about how he used to consider her very presence as the sun. She talked about how pets technically weren't allowed in the apartment, but she knew that the lonely boy who lived on the rooftop apartment was probably running some kind of illegal bird dealing business because there were at least ten flying around there last week.  And it smelled like , bird to be specific. Talking about the birds made her think of her parakeet Bo, which made her cry hysterically, and Jongin found out that Bo had flown away years ago and never came back. She blubbered some incoherent sentences, words tumbling from nonstop and sparkling diamond tears streaming down her cheeks. Jongin silently fed her brownies and bottled water until she calmed down. It was all too similar to what they used to do, back then. On the rooftops and under covers, or hidden in some other place.

Once she was as close to sober as she could get and realized where she was, she stopped talking. It was a drastic change, from talking a mile a minute to trickling down to silence. She stared at him for several moments, dark eyes gazing at him for so long that it took everything in his power to not squirm under her scrutiny. Soojung had always been one to stare-- and to make a point of it, too. Whereas someone would avert their eyes at a glance, Soojung didn't stop looking. It was unsettling, despite the fact that Jongin didn't mind staring back. Finally, she stood up, taking off her beads and letting her hair fall back in waves around her shoulders. She walked over to the door, almost tripping over her feet. Jongin reached out to steady her steps by putting his hands on her arms, and Soojung froze. She looked up, tugging her arms away from him. Twisting the lock on the door back and forth, she cursed quietly when it didn't open for her.  She kept pulling impatiently until he finally helped her open the door. His finger twitched when it came in contact with her.

" you," she said quietly, almost inaudibly. Jongin gazed at her, and she turned to face him.
 
"Jongin." Soojung said, just saying his name to let it roll off her tongue. He didn't respond, he just wanted to listen. He wanted to focus on her, but he couldn't stop thinking about how beautiful she was. He wanted her to say his name over and over again.

"I was hoping... That you would get ugly or something, over the years, y'know?" She whispered, her words still indistinct. Her eyes were shining. "If you suddenly became ugly, or broke, or in jail, or- or... If you got married, then it would be okay. Then, I could force myself to forget. But you're still... you. And I hate it." Tears pricked at her eyes. "I ing hate that." Stunned was an understatement. Jongin's mouth tried to form the right words.

The pale pink door shut in his face.

 ☼☼☼

Slamming the door behind her, Soojung stormed into her apartment, heaving a tired sigh before slipping off her shoes. She leaned up against the door to catch her breath. What had she just said? What had she told him? Of all unexpected things to happen in her not-too-interesting apartment complex, Jongin-- Jongin whom she had worked all too hard to forget, Jongin whose features were just starting to blur in her mind, Jongin who was finally going to disappear from her life-- popping up out of nowhere had to be high up on the list. Did he think he could just waltz back into her life unannounced? She hated herself for the little part of her that wanted him to waltz, tango, ballroom dance back in-- because that little part of her missed him far too much.

As she walked into the kitchen in the hopes of doing something to take her mind off of it, she jumped, startled at the sight before her.
Sehun was there, in the kitchen. Washing the dishes, at that.

"God, you ing scared me," she said, although her voice remained monotonous. "When I gave you my keys, it was for absolute emergencies, not washing my dishes at odd hours in the morning." He didn't respond, and the woman gazed at him curiously. She noted how vigorously he was scrubbing the dishes, the tips of his elfin ears burning scarlet. Soojung stepped closer, wondering why he hadn't looked at her yet.
 

"Are you drunk?" He asked, his voice devoid of any particular emotion.

"No." She stumbled when she took a step and reconsidered. "A little. Are you okay? Are you still mad about what Jinri said earlier? She's your sister, and you know she has no filter, Sehun. I mean, she wasn't wrong, but you know how sudden-" she started to ramble and Sehun went rigid, turning the water off. He wiped his hands off on a towel, turning around to face her.

"I'm not mad," he said curtly, though his expression told otherwise.

"You're a liar, Sehun."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

He stepped two steps closer to her, his arm wrapping around her waist. The two stared at each other for less than a heartbeat, her head barely at the level of his chin. His hand cupped her cheek, and he kissed the side of her jaw first. He sighed, her eyes softening before their lips met sloppily. He said something quietly about how drunk she was before her arms wrapped around his neck loosely and he deepened the kiss. Fireworks didn't light up inside them and electricity wasn't sent coursing through their veins at the touch, yet it was simple and perfect. Somewhere in between, Sehun had pulled his shirt off. The two fell onto her couch, and Soojung pulled back just as Sehun's hands slipped under the hem of her t-shirt.

"We're just proving what Jinri said earlier, you know."

"Yes. And?" Another kiss and Soojung's shirt was off.

"I have a new neighbor. He'll hear something through the walls."

"Since when have we cared what the neighbors heard?"

"I- I already know him." A pause. Their breathing sounded too loud in the room, his fingers were stopped at the waistband of her shorts.

"Why? Did you two date or something?" Soojung hesitated, her fingers curling against his bare skin.

"Sort of. He got married, though." Sehun's grip on her waist tightened the slightest bit, and her heartbeat sped up.

"A married man that dated you has popped up out of nowhere to live alone in the place you own, huh?." His tone was incredulous, and he glanced at her, trying to pull an emotion from her eyes. "Don't tell me you still have feelings for him, Soojung. I'm- we--"

Soojung wanted this conversation to be over, she wanted to go back to the way they were, letting their bodies act on their own accord without stupid input from their minds. She wished she had never brought anything up, she wished she could run away. Cold silence settled among them as he struggled to string the right words together. She looked at him desperately, and he pushed dark hair out of her face.
 

"We're what? buddies with commitment issues? A routine? Sehun, you're in ing college. Do you know how I feel when I'm with you? Guilty. Really, really guilty. You should be partying and dating cute girls and be in study groups with other college kids, not washing the dishes of a thirty-year-old landlady of your apartment." Soojung whispered the last words, and she knew she was on the verge of tears. The thoughts had been in the back of her mind ever since Sehun moved in, and for some reason, the opportune moment for her brain to spill it was in the middle of . She hated being drunk.

Sehun had a million things he wanted to say, but for once, he was quiet. He shifted around and wrapped his arms around her carefully, rocking her back and forth. He kissed her once and then twice, her hand still intertwined with his from earlier.
"I would rather wash the dishes of a twenty-eight-year-old landlady than play beer pong with teenagers," he finally said, her small figure now curled into his.

"We can stop, you know. You can be with people your age instead of ing around with a kid like me, Soojung."She could feel his heart hammering against his chest.
"-but I'll wait for you, you know. In case you get tired of old people," he tried to say lightheartedly, although it came out sounding sarcastic.
"I'll-"

Soojung squeezed his hand to stop him mid-sentence. Tonight, she wasn't going to be thinking about the past or rooftops. She wasn't going to think about him, because he had moved on, and so would she. Ten years was a long time. She led the male's hands back to her hips, leaning into him.

"I like us just the way we are," she breathed.