after time passes and seasons pass (i hope we won’t change)
alone with you*uwus in betaed*
“Looks like it’s gonna start snowing any second, now.”
The skies are cloudy and off–white when Seulgi looks up at them. It’s the first time she’s bothered to pay any real attention to anything for the past half hour, and of course it’s because of something that reminds her of Seungwan.
“You don’t like snow?” she speaks after a small silence, and her date turns to her with mild surprise for a second before his sour expression bounces back.
“I like it enough,” he states, almost indignantly. “It’s just annoying. Especially when the city gets so busy because of it. I don’t get why people go crazy over first snow when it’s the same thing every single year.”
Seulgi takes a lengthy sip from her glass of water. She had been quiet for most of the time, nodding and smiling to firm opinions and sentiments that she didn’t even listen to. When she had managed to tune into the present properly, it had been midway through a lovelorn soliloquy of a petty argument involving a dog and a cake and a Youngjae, and it was obvious then that this blind date was not going to work out. Trust Park Sooyoung to set her up with a textbook closet case.
(Though she isn’t really any different, as far as feelings for your best friend are concerned.)
“It’s only first snow you don’t like, then?”
The question stumps him for a pause, and Seulgi realises that this is the only contribution she’s made to the conversation so far. On the topic of weather, no less.
“I don’t see the point in celebrating it,” he answers dismissively, and Seulgi shrugs.
“Couples like the idea of staying together for a long time.”
He shakes his head. “That’s up to them, not the weather. Plus, they could just phone each other to watch it. They would technically still be together, but everyone else wouldn’t have to suffer the traffic and the crowds like they would if they met up, y’know?”
Her glass is placed back in the table with a quiet clink as a thought begins to burrow itself into her mind. “I suppose so…”
The young man opposite her nods and continues surveying the streets and the skies as if she hadn’t said anything at all, and she’s saved from the ensuing stretch of silence by the waitress bringing their cheque over.
“Thanks,” she utters with a quick smile, refraining from looking at the sympathy in eyes that watched their disaster of a date since the early quarter of the night. Jaebum has the sense to pay for both of them at least, even with Seulgi’s insistence otherwise for being an inattentive date herself. Not that she says that out loud.
They leave like the strangers they came in as, bidding hurried goodbyes to the staff and remaining muted between them for the rest of the walk outside. It’s only after minutes spent fumbling for goodbyes at the bus stop that Jaebum turns to her and looks her in the eyes, contrite and subdued.
“Seulgi–sshi,” he starts, hands folded over his stomach as if ready for a speech.
She really hopes this isn’t going to be a speech.
“Jaebum–sshi.”
He takes a breath at her encouraging nod, and bows low. “I don’t think this is going to work out between us. I’m sorry.”
The relief sags her shoulders, and she resists the urge to thank him. “I agree,” she smiles, the first truly genuine one she’s managed to make tonight. He mirrors it shyly, and maybe friendship could be on the cards, instead. “I hope things go well with Youngjae–sshi, though.”
The pop of his eyes and the stuttering mess of words he blurts out makes her laugh, reaching out to pat his arm reassuringly.
“I’m not — I don’t —“
She chuckles. “Whether you like him like that or not, I think you should talk to him. You said you’re friends, right?”
It takes a moment for his pinched expression to soften, and he heaves a sigh. “Best friends.”
“Then I hope you work it out between you two. And that we meet again in a less awkward situation,” she grins, and he scratches the back of his neck.
“Again, sorry about that. I… had a lot in my mind.”
She shakes her head. “That’s okay, I did too.”
“Right,” he chuckles, looking up as Seulgi turns to watch the bus to Mapo–gu pulling in to let its passengers off. “See you later, then?”
She takes her bus pass from her pocket and ascends the first step with a wave. “See you, Jaebum–sshi.”
Her attempted date lifts his hand in return and begins the walk to his own bus stop, while Seulgi swipes her card and looks for a seat among the empty spaces just as a flurry of white outside stops her in her tracks.
Snow.
“Miss?”
The driver looks at her in the front mirror and she remembers she still has to sit down, so she plops herself onto the nearest seat by the window to marvel at the scene outside.
It’s snowing.
They pull away from the curb as her hand automatically reaches for the phone in her pocket; unlocking it swiftly before scrolling down the contact list. ‘Wan-ah ~’ is selected without a second thought as she lifts the cell to her ear, tapping her heel on the floor and waiting only three rings before the line connects.
“It’s first snow,” she blurts, before any greetings can be exchanged.
“Huh…?” comes the delayed reply, followed a beat afterwards by: “Oh my God, it is!”
The campus librarian’s distinctively nasally voice cuts in shortly, followed by a sheepishly whispered apology.
“Haha. Um. Thank you for telling me?” Seungwan continues in a much softer voice, and Seulgi adjusts her collar as if it will help her breathe more easily; less like a giddy school girl with a crush.
“No problem,” she grins, leaning against the windowpane. Her lips part then, and she hesitates to say anything further. It’s not like she can tell Seungwan to come meet up and watch it with her when she’s — Well, they’re not —
“Seul? You still there?”
She bites her lip. “Yeah. Still here.”
Her best friend chuckles, the melody burning warm in Seulgi's veins. “So, is this going to be a thing for every first snow?”
Her cheeks flush at the memory of last year. “Probably? Unless you beat me to it, one day.”
Seungwan hums. “One day?”
“If you ever leave your room, sure,” she fires back playfully, and the nursing major scoffs without malice.
“Something tells me you would still come to bother me even if I did.”
“Would you want me to?” she says without thinking, and there’s a moment where she thinks Seungwan might call her out — tell her the first snow phenomenon is only for couples and lovers and people who aren’t them — but a laugh warms her from the tips of her toes to the point of her ears, and she relaxes.
“Sure, I wouldn’t mind your pestering that much.”
The rumble of the bus fills the comfortable silence afterwards, echoed softly in her breaths as she basks in a snowfall separate to Seungwan’s. It feels like the closest they can get to each other right now, but Seulgi would be happy just staying here forever.
(You’d think after a year of being bound by the hip, those kinds of feelings would fade.)
“Hey, don’t you have a lunch date today?” Seungwan’s voice cuts in through the bustle of traffic some minutes later, bemused and bell–like in her ear.
“Yeah.” The artist traces the back of a nail on the fogged up glass beside her. “We just said goodbye. I’m on my way home.”
“Well, how was it? Was he nice?”
There’s a protective note to her voice that brings a curl to Seulgi’s lips and a blush to her cheeks.
“We didn’t click, so we agreed to just part ways. No hard feelings.”
A pause stretches out between them, long enough for the lights to change from red to green as Seulgi shifts in her seat and presses the button for her stop.
“Was it that bad of a date?” comes the next question as the vehicle slows, and she begins to make her way down to the doors.
“Not really. Why do you ask?”
“Just…wondering."
Something about it throws her off for a pause. “I’m not interested in him like that, is all,” she explains, rounding the corner a short distance from her apartment flat. “And I’m pretty sure he’s in love with someone else.”
“Oh.” The building comes into view. "I’m glad, then."
Seulgi stumbles over a patch of frost and tries not to sound out of breath as she pushes her hair from her eyes. “H-How come?”
“I don’t want you to get hurt if you did like him, dummy,“ comes the soft reply, sweet and chiding in her ear; speaking with little regard for the way Seulgi’s heart stutters and restarts in her chest.
“Don’t worry, I wouldn’t try even then,” she murmurs, swallowing the sudden lump in as she approaches the foot of the stairs outside. “Are you still watching the snow?"
“I am. And you?”
“Yeah, ‘f course,” she giggles quietly, fumbling with her keys and pushing her apartment door open with her hip. Her phone flashes at her with a notification from Seungwan; a photo of the scenery from her window, when she opens it. She laughs and calls it a portfolio–worthy shot, listening fondly to her best friend’s retort as she goes to take a picture of her own and ends up pausing at her home screen. It’s a snapshot from earlier this year; the two of them being hugged to death by their friends at their very first joint birthday party, which was actually Yerim's idea (the cheapskate she is, vying for the chance to give one present for two instead of one each). They were all too happy to go through with it when they had grown so close already, by that point.
“Hey, I can hear you zoning out, you know."
She locks the device with a fond smile, carrying it with her on speaker as she pads over to a mist–lined window. “Sorry. Was wondering what I should make for dinner tonight.”
Seungwan’s response is a quick, “Not ddeokbokki, for sure.”
There’s a laugh shared between them at the memory of her last attempt at making the dish, and it echoes quiet and clandestine in the shadows of her apartment. The nurse tells her to make bingsoo from the snow if it settles, and Seulgi watches it as they talk about how much they want it to, this year. It’s not cold enough yet again — they know that already — but talking about any sort of dreams and possibility together has become one of their favourite pastimes, and Seulgi wouldn’t trade it for the world.
Someone calls for Seungwan eventually though, pulling her to bid a hurried goodbye for a music society session with ‘Korean Lindsey Stirling’ and ‘Classical Adam Levine’. Seulgi only pockets her cell long after the call ends, sighing at the porcelain–shrouded sky and the drift of each snowflake floating down to meet the earth: not to stay, just to melt.
This must be what it feels like to fall.
The skies are cloudy and off–white when Seulgi looks up at them. It’s the first time she’s bothered to pay any real attention to anything for the past half hour, and of course it’s because of something that reminds her of Seungwan.
“You don’t like snow?” she speaks after a small silence, and her date turns to her with mild surprise for a second before his sour expression bounces back.
“I like it enough,” he states, almost indignantly. “It’s just annoying. Especially when the city gets so busy because of it. I don’t get why people go crazy over first snow when it’s the same thing every single year.”
Seulgi takes a lengthy sip from her glass of water. She had been quiet for most of the time, nodding and smiling to firm opinions and sentiments that she didn’t even listen to. When she had managed to tune into the present properly, it had been midway through a lovelorn soliloquy of a petty argument involving a dog and a cake and a Youngjae, and it was obvious then that this blind date was not going to work out. Trust Park Sooyoung to set her up with a textbook closet case.
(Though she isn’t really any different, as far as feelings for your best friend are concerned.)
“It’s only first snow you don’t like, then?”
The question stumps him for a pause, and Seulgi realises that this is the only contribution she’s made to the conversation so far. On the topic of weather, no less.
“I don’t see the point in celebrating it,” he answers dismissively, and Seulgi shrugs.
“Couples like the idea of staying together for a long time.”
He shakes his head. “That’s up to them, not the weather. Plus, they could just phone each other to watch it. They would technically still be together, but everyone else wouldn’t have to suffer the traffic and the crowds like they would if they met up, y’know?”
Her glass is placed back in the table with a quiet clink as a thought begins to burrow itself into her mind. “I suppose so…”
The young man opposite her nods and continues surveying the streets and the skies as if she hadn’t said anything at all, and she’s saved from the ensuing stretch of silence by the waitress bringing their cheque over.
“Thanks,” she utters with a quick smile, refraining from looking at the sympathy in eyes that watched their disaster of a date since the early quarter of the night. Jaebum has the sense to pay for both of them at least, even with Seulgi’s insistence otherwise for being an inattentive date herself. Not that she says that out loud.
They leave like the strangers they came in as, bidding hurried goodbyes to the staff and remaining muted between them for the rest of the walk outside. It’s only after minutes spent fumbling for goodbyes at the bus stop that Jaebum turns to her and looks her in the eyes, contrite and subdued.
“Seulgi–sshi,” he starts, hands folded over his stomach as if ready for a speech.
She really hopes this isn’t going to be a speech.
“Jaebum–sshi.”
He takes a breath at her encouraging nod, and bows low. “I don’t think this is going to work out between us. I’m sorry.”
The relief sags her shoulders, and she resists the urge to thank him. “I agree,” she smiles, the first truly genuine one she’s managed to make tonight. He mirrors it shyly, and maybe friendship could be on the cards, instead. “I hope things go well with Youngjae–sshi, though.”
The pop of his eyes and the stuttering mess of words he blurts out makes her laugh, reaching out to pat his arm reassuringly.
“I’m not — I don’t —“
She chuckles. “Whether you like him like that or not, I think you should talk to him. You said you’re friends, right?”
It takes a moment for his pinched expression to soften, and he heaves a sigh. “Best friends.”
“Then I hope you work it out between you two. And that we meet again in a less awkward situation,” she grins, and he scratches the back of his neck.
“Again, sorry about that. I… had a lot in my mind.”
She shakes her head. “That’s okay, I did too.”
“Right,” he chuckles, looking up as Seulgi turns to watch the bus to Mapo–gu pulling in to let its passengers off. “See you later, then?”
She takes her bus pass from her pocket and ascends the first step with a wave. “See you, Jaebum–sshi.”
Her attempted date lifts his hand in return and begins the walk to his own bus stop, while Seulgi swipes her card and looks for a seat among the empty spaces just as a flurry of white outside stops her in her tracks.
Snow.
“Miss?”
The driver looks at her in the front mirror and she remembers she still has to sit down, so she plops herself onto the nearest seat by the window to marvel at the scene outside.
It’s snowing.
They pull away from the curb as her hand automatically reaches for the phone in her pocket; unlocking it swiftly before scrolling down the contact list. ‘Wan-ah ~’ is selected without a second thought as she lifts the cell to her ear, tapping her heel on the floor and waiting only three rings before the line connects.
“It’s first snow,” she blurts, before any greetings can be exchanged.
“Huh…?” comes the delayed reply, followed a beat afterwards by: “Oh my God, it is!”
The campus librarian’s distinctively nasally voice cuts in shortly, followed by a sheepishly whispered apology.
“Haha. Um. Thank you for telling me?” Seungwan continues in a much softer voice, and Seulgi adjusts her collar as if it will help her breathe more easily; less like a giddy school girl with a crush.
“No problem,” she grins, leaning against the windowpane. Her lips part then, and she hesitates to say anything further. It’s not like she can tell Seungwan to come meet up and watch it with her when she’s — Well, they’re not —
“Seul? You still there?”
She bites her lip. “Yeah. Still here.”
Her best friend chuckles, the melody burning warm in Seulgi's veins. “So, is this going to be a thing for every first snow?”
Her cheeks flush at the memory of last year. “Probably? Unless you beat me to it, one day.”
Seungwan hums. “One day?”
“If you ever leave your room, sure,” she fires back playfully, and the nursing major scoffs without malice.
“Something tells me you would still come to bother me even if I did.”
“Would you want me to?” she says without thinking, and there’s a moment where she thinks Seungwan might call her out — tell her the first snow phenomenon is only for couples and lovers and people who aren’t them — but a laugh warms her from the tips of her toes to the point of her ears, and she relaxes.
“Sure, I wouldn’t mind your pestering that much.”
The rumble of the bus fills the comfortable silence afterwards, echoed softly in her breaths as she basks in a snowfall separate to Seungwan’s. It feels like the closest they can get to each other right now, but Seulgi would be happy just staying here forever.
(You’d think after a year of being bound by the hip, those kinds of feelings would fade.)
“Hey, don’t you have a lunch date today?” Seungwan’s voice cuts in through the bustle of traffic some minutes later, bemused and bell–like in her ear.
“Yeah.” The artist traces the back of a nail on the fogged up glass beside her. “We just said goodbye. I’m on my way home.”
“Well, how was it? Was he nice?”
There’s a protective note to her voice that brings a curl to Seulgi’s lips and a blush to her cheeks.
“We didn’t click, so we agreed to just part ways. No hard feelings.”
A pause stretches out between them, long enough for the lights to change from red to green as Seulgi shifts in her seat and presses the button for her stop.
“Was it that bad of a date?” comes the next question as the vehicle slows, and she begins to make her way down to the doors.
“Not really. Why do you ask?”
“Just…wondering."
Something about it throws her off for a pause. “I’m not interested in him like that, is all,” she explains, rounding the corner a short distance from her apartment flat. “And I’m pretty sure he’s in love with someone else.”
“Oh.” The building comes into view. "I’m glad, then."
Seulgi stumbles over a patch of frost and tries not to sound out of breath as she pushes her hair from her eyes. “H-How come?”
“I don’t want you to get hurt if you did like him, dummy,“ comes the soft reply, sweet and chiding in her ear; speaking with little regard for the way Seulgi’s heart stutters and restarts in her chest.
“Don’t worry, I wouldn’t try even then,” she murmurs, swallowing the sudden lump in as she approaches the foot of the stairs outside. “Are you still watching the snow?"
“I am. And you?”
“Yeah, ‘f course,” she giggles quietly, fumbling with her keys and pushing her apartment door open with her hip. Her phone flashes at her with a notification from Seungwan; a photo of the scenery from her window, when she opens it. She laughs and calls it a portfolio–worthy shot, listening fondly to her best friend’s retort as she goes to take a picture of her own and ends up pausing at her home screen. It’s a snapshot from earlier this year; the two of them being hugged to death by their friends at their very first joint birthday party, which was actually Yerim's idea (the cheapskate she is, vying for the chance to give one present for two instead of one each). They were all too happy to go through with it when they had grown so close already, by that point.
“Hey, I can hear you zoning out, you know."
She locks the device with a fond smile, carrying it with her on speaker as she pads over to a mist–lined window. “Sorry. Was wondering what I should make for dinner tonight.”
Seungwan’s response is a quick, “Not ddeokbokki, for sure.”
There’s a laugh shared between them at the memory of her last attempt at making the dish, and it echoes quiet and clandestine in the shadows of her apartment. The nurse tells her to make bingsoo from the snow if it settles, and Seulgi watches it as they talk about how much they want it to, this year. It’s not cold enough yet again — they know that already — but talking about any sort of dreams and possibility together has become one of their favourite pastimes, and Seulgi wouldn’t trade it for the world.
Someone calls for Seungwan eventually though, pulling her to bid a hurried goodbye for a music society session with ‘Korean Lindsey Stirling’ and ‘Classical Adam Levine’. Seulgi only pockets her cell long after the call ends, sighing at the porcelain–shrouded sky and the drift of each snowflake floating down to meet the earth: not to stay, just to melt.
This must be what it feels like to fall.
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