The One With the Ice Cream and Giving In

Ping!

Wendy had her eyes closed as she memorized where the keys were, her brows scrunched as she couldn’t recall if she made up the sound or if the key was accidently played.

Ping, ping!

Her eye twitched, pretty sure that she heard the sound, wondering if she was accidentally hitting another key.

Ping, ping. Ping!

That sound came from the other side of the piano, so she knew she wasn’t hitting any notes. She did feel the slight shift of the bench and the warming presence of her best friend. He was continuously hitting the same note, and she knew he was trying to get her attention.

Pingpingpingpingpingpingpingpingpingpingpingping-

She fumbled on a key change and threw her hands up in aggravation, looking at her best friend who had this devilish grin on his lips, leaning rather close to the woman. She was choosing to ignore how close his face was to hers as she glared at him with him clenched teeth, “What do you want?”

“Your ity,” he said cheekily. He didn’t realize how fast the woman was when she reached out to grab one of her exercise books and hit him with him, blushing and mumbling how she doesn’t want him touching her at all now. This only encouraged him as he laughed, reaching out to pull her to his chest, kissing her cheek. “You’ve been practicing for a while now.”

She tried to pinch his hand, but to not avail. “It’s only been an hour.”

“It’s been four,” Jongdae pointed out, holding out his phone and showing her the time; while purposely showing he had changed his wallpaper to a picture of them when they were in high school, taking a selfie together with her side swept bangs and ironic graphic tee, and his incredible short dark hair and thick rimmed glasses.

She made a look, reaching to take his phone, only for him to pull it back. “Oh my gosh, Jongdae, change that background! I hate that photo so much!”

“Why?” he pouted, looking at it closer, “We looked so cute together. Look at us, Wendy. Sixteen years old, trying to rule the classical audience world with emo hair and fifteen years old, coming up with crappy beats and looking like I should work in an IT department.”

“God, I hate that picture,” she pouted, leaning back into his shoulder. Jongdae wrapped his arm lazily behind her, making her scoot in closer and leaning her head against his neck. “I look so chubby in it.”

“You’re only saying that because you had a crush on what’s-his-face, and when you confessed, he said, ‘I know I don’t have a chubby soulmate.’ God, I wanted to punch him in the face. He obviously looked past your amazing personality and gifted talents.”

Wendy smiled, closing her eyes. “You’re only saying that to make me feel better.”

“I only say that truth.”

“You wouldn’t be saying that if I was still that weight.”

“Wendy, I stole your first kiss like a month after this was taken. Don’t tell me what I would or wouldn’t say,” Jongdae pinched her side before kissing the top of her head. “I think if you came into my dorm wearing a pair of brightly colored ripped skinny jeans with an old graphic tee… with a bow in your teased hair… and a pair of converse… Well, they wouldn’t be on you too long.”

Blushing at that statement, Wendy sat up and reached out to play a single note, unable to look at him. “You… you don’t have a kink for punk.”

“You weren’t punk, you were alternative rock at best,” he chuckled, before leaning in to kiss her cheek again, moving his lips to kiss closer to her ear so he could whisper. “Besides, you’re my kink.”

Laughing out loud, she had to push him away from her, telling him he should be embarrassed by his mushy words. Though she knew she was blushing, she still was unable to look at her best friend when he got like this, embarrassed that he would just continue. “You need to like, get out now.”

“No, I’m cutting you off.”

“But I have—”

“No, you don’t,” he countered, pulling out the recital calendar from his pocket he just stole from the bulletin board outside. “Not for another month. Besides, you’re so freaking talented anyways, you don’t need to practice.”

“You just want to get me out of here so you can take me to my single’s dorm and make out with me like you have been for the past two days.”

Jongdae paused, going over her words before grinning and pointing out that she hasn’t exactly pushed him away. “Am I wrong?”

Taking a moment proved his point. “You’re stupid,” she stuck her tongue out before she stood up, organizing her piano sheets. Jongdae’s teasing ceased and he played a simple tune, one of her favorites, on his right hand. She hummed to it, letting him know she approved, setting some music in one folder and the rest in a binder. She quickly shut her composition book before gathering them in a pile and putting them in her piano canvas bag, hooking it unto her shoulder. Jongdae stopped his playing all together and stood up; his hand clasping to hers like gravity.

“We should take a selfie,” he suggested.

“No, I don’t even look cute.”

Jongdae gave her a blank expression, “I’m sorry, I misheard. I thought I heard you say you ‘don’t even look cute’.”

“I don’t feel cute,” she rephrased, pointing out that she was wearing her favorite oversized baggy t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants she stole from Jongdae about a year ago. She was wearing glasses and her hair was pulled back in an awkward ponytail. “If you want selfies, then I should at least look cute.”

Without a second thought. Jongdae instead took a picture of his pouting best friend, cackling when she realized what he did. Letting out an angry sigh, she threw her piano bag at him, telling him he’s going to carry it as she stormed out, turning the practice room lights off.

It wasn’t even a few seconds later that she felt the familiar hand weaved into hers, bum