[title: sun saathiya - priya saraiya (i've been on a bollywood kick lmao)]
[4k]

 8. 

Sunhee startles at the knock at her open door. Seulgi stands at the doorway, leaning heavily on the door hinge as she raises a brow at Sunhee.

“Soooo.” Seulgi flits into the room and Sunhee sighs at the way her heart flutters at the sight—sometimes, she wishes she could stop her feelings right in their tracks, for the sake of her sanity. Seulgi plops down on Sunhee’s bed, making the whole thing bounce, “Are you going to tell me where you were last night?”

Sunhee groans, covers her face, and ignores the feeling of guilt that bombards her because of how she had spoken to Baekhyun. On one hand, he had secrets and she deserved to know the ones that pertained to her, but, on the other hand, Irene and Baekhyun’s relationships and secrets did not pertain to her. She certainly crossed a line with him, and she feels both guilty and embarrassed of her behavior. She could have made her points in a less angry way. She can’t believe she ruined their friendship before it even began; it must be a new world record.

(Still, his words about red flags continues to ring loud and clear in her head. She just—she doesn’t believe it. There’s nothing wrong with the way Seulgi treats her. They’re best friends. If anything, Sunhee’s the one that makes their relationship strange. She had no business catching feelings for her best friend.)

Seulgi leans forward, just inches away from Sunhee’s covered face and pokes at her forearms, “Were you on a date, too?” Seulgi keeps poking at her, her ribs, her forearms, anywhere she can reach, emphasizing each word with a poke, “Huh? I’m right, aren’t I? Tell me!”

Sunhee groans loudly, pushing Seulgi away from her—only because she’s so close and Sunhee’s heart feels as if it’ll burst out of her chest—and immediately sits up, scooting away.

Seulgi blinks at Sunhee, confused. Another wave of guilt hits Sunhee full force and Sunhee absolutely hates it, maybe even hates herself.

Sunhee tries to salvage the situation, tries to divert attention to something other than her moment of panic, because that’s what she always does when Seulgi gets too close. Sunhee says, “What do you mean by ‘too’? You said that wasn’t supposed to be a date.”

Seulgi reddens and the confusion melts away, the panic and momentary tension long forgotten, much to Sunhee’s relief. Seulgi shakes her head, laugh stilted, “That must have just slipped out. It wasn’t a date.”

Sunhee just gives Seulgi a look of disbelief, crossing her arms over her chest, brow raised.

Seulgi looks Sunhee in the eye for a long, long minute.

For a moment, it’s strangely quiet between them, tense. A different kind of tension than before.

Seulgi mutters, “You really don’t trust me, do you?”

The way Seulgi says those words, with a low tone that carries an edge, has Sunhee blinking rapidly.

“It has nothing to do with trust. I trust you, Seulgi.” Sunhee frowns.

“You just don’t believe me.” Seulgi lets out a long sigh and the fire in her eyes are barely hidden. She’s irritated, and Sunhee has no reason why. The guilt inside of her just continues to increase as the silence stretches on, before Seulgi continues, clucking her tongue, “I told you I wanted to handle everything on my own. Why won’t you let me fix this?”

“Because it’s dangerous.” Sunhee manages to respond, confused at Seulgi’s demeanor.

There’s something of like agitation curling right under Seulgi’s controlled tone. It’s something Sunhee doesn’t think she’s ever heard before, not from Seulgi. Seulgi’s eyes are hidden and her jaw clenches, her fingers wrapping around the hem of her skirt, balled into fists.

(Sunhee doesn’t know why, but something about the atmosphere, the sudden chill, makes goosebumps run along her skin, the hairs at the back of her neck standing on end. For a moment, she is feeling more than just guilt. She is anxious, worried, scared.)

Seulgi rolls her eyes, groaning, before she flops sideways onto Sunhee’s bed, startling her and breaking the sudden chilly atmosphere. Sunhee blinks, more confused than ever, wondering if she somehow imagined all that. Seulgi, on the other hand, says, “I know. I love you, Sunhee, but I’m so tired of you treating me like I’m a child. I know what I’m doing.”

Seulgi reaches over and pats Sunhee’s knee, rubbing it as she sits up.

(Sunhee’s heart feels like it’ll jump right out of her chest.)

Sunhee blinks, rapidly, forcing her expression to remain unchanged, as she says, “I don’t treat you like a chil—”

“Yeah, you do. You’re, like, super overprotective.” Seulgi makes a face, scratching her chin, but Sunhee knows Seulgi well enough to know that she’s annoyed. When Seulgi’s annoyed, she does not bite back her words. She doesn’t bother cushioning her blows.

“Usually I think it’s cute and sweet, but, sometimes, it gets kind of weird. It’s not like you’re my boyfriend.” Seulgi looks Sunhee in the eye then. “Or mom.”

For a moment, Sunhee cannot breathe.

Then Seulgi shrugs, adds, “Anyway, whenever you want to tell me about that date you went on, I’ll be right across the hall.”

Sunhee barely manages to call out, with as much nonchalance as she can muster, “There was no date.”

Seulgi snorts as she saunters out the room and Sunhee doesn’t like the way her anxiety and guilt, her emotions, crawl under her skin, prickling at every part of her, burrowing a home there.

(A voice that sounds faintly like Baekhyun’s shouts, red flag. Sunhee ignores that voice with every inch of her being, for the sake of her own sanity. She tells herself, there is nothing wrong. Seulgi is just angry with her. There is nothing wrong.)

~.~.~.~.~

Sunhee likes a routine. She likes organization and lists and a clear order of things to be done. When she is stressed or emotional, she finds the most comfort in a routine, in something she can follow that requires little brainpower but keeps her distracted long enough for her emotions to settle.

Sunhee likes baking.

Back in college, before final exams, she used to spend hours baking cookies, cupcakes, even little macarons, whenever she needed a break from her textbooks. Seulgi always looked concerned when she went into one of her stress baking modes, but she never seemed to protest, mostly because Seulgi loved eating Sunhee’s creations.

(Sunhee still remembers the look of awe on Seulgi’s face when she returned from the library one afternoon to every square inch of open counter space covered in baking sheets filled with pastries. Sunhee still remembers how they had to give out the baked goods to literal strangers because Sunhee had made too many.)

It is days later when Sunhee finds herself in the kitchen, baking ingredients scoured around her.

Seulgi blinks at Sunhee from the doorway to the kitchen. Sunhee juggles two trays of sugar cookies in her hands, the trays warm on her fingers even through her oven mitts, pushing the oven door shut with her socked feet.

For a moment, Seulgi’s eyes soften significantly, perhaps because Sunhee must look crazed, her hair thrown up into a messy bun and flour streaking her apron. Though Sunhee has been baking for years, she was never good at keeping her workspace neat.

“Sunhee?” Seulgi’s voice is quiet, but it drifts through the kitchen, loud and clear. Sunhee looks up.

Seulgi bites the inside of her cheek, glancing at the trays Sunhee carefully places on the counters. Sunhee avoids Seulgi’s eyes as she says, “Yeah?”

“Are you okay?” Seulgi steps into the kitchen.

Sunhee blinks at the cookies in front of her. Her eyes start to water. She doesn’t look up, doesn’t meet Seulgi’s gaze as she says, “Yeah. I’m fine, why?”

Sunhee plasters a grin onto her face just to meet Seulgi’s inquiring gaze.

Seulgi opens , brows furrowed, but before she can say anything, someone calls out from the living room, startling Sunhee. She didn’t even know anyone was here.

Kai appears behind Seulgi, smiling pleasantly, and Sunhee’s stress levels begin to rise all over again, though this time, there’s an underlying current of exhaustion. She is tired, she realizes.

She blinks at Kai and then at Seulgi. Seulgi has her back turned to Kai and when she meets Sunhee’s eyes, she looks almost sheepish for a moment.

Seulgi says, “I was going to tell you I invited him over.”

“Yeah, it’s cool.” Sunhee responds, immediately. There’s a pause before Sunhee tacks on an insincere, “Sorry for the mess.”

Sunhee doesn’t hear his response nor does she really care. Instead, she turns her attention back to the cookies, carefully unsticking them from the baking sheet and onto the cooling racks.

She glances up and is relieved that Seulgi and Kai hadn’t stuck around to make small talk.

Of course, maybe an hour in, when she’s putting another tray of cookies—this time Snickerdoodles—into the oven, Kai returns to the kitchen, helping himself to a glass of water.

“These look good.” He says, after a long moment, nodding towards the cookies on the cooling rack.

“Thanks.” She says, tone clipped.

The silence stretches on, longer this time, before Kai puts the glass in the sink and casually plucks a cookie off the rack.

She glares.

He smirks and she has half a mind to smack him over the head with a baking sheet or the spatula. She doesn’t and he takes another, sauntering out the kitchen as if he’s God Himself.

(Somehow, baking had helped with her annoying bouts of guilt and stress and emotions. But, when she leaves the kitchen to charge her phone and change her flour covered shirt, she can hear Seulgi’s giggles from the living room. When she passes the living room—she doesn’t try to look in there, really, truly—Seulgi has her head pressed to Kai’s shoulder while they watch TV and he kisses her head. Seulgi keeps giggling, keeps whispering things Sunhee can’t hear. Sunhee’s stomach churns.)

Her stomach churns and churns as she returns to the kitchen, blinking at all the damn cookies she’s baked.

This isn’t helping, she knows this. Baking doesn’t help.

She’s so tired, her knees nearly buckling right where she stands.

But she must clean up.

So, she grabs a couple containers, one to leave in the kitchen for her coworkers and another one just for Sanha. She puts extra in Sanha’s in case he wants to share with his brother. She focuses entirely on the task at hand, her stomach still churning, her ears picking up on every giggle, every loud exclamation, every laugh drifting out of the living room.

There are still so many cookies leftover.

She hesitates for a long moment, before she makes up her mind. She knows why she feels guilty. It’s not entirely about Seulgi and she knows it. Cookies, she finds, are a good buffer for an apology. So, she packs some cookies for Baekhyun, too.

(She puts in extra. She doesn’t know exactly why, but if he asks, she can just say it’s for him to give to Moonbin, since the guy eats like he hasn’t eaten in months.)

She reaches for her phone, after she’s done and seated on the kitchen stool, and her fingers hover over Baekhyun’s contact.

Seulgi laughs loudly down the hall.

Sunhee texts Baekhyun.

~.~.~.~.~

The cookies are still warm in the container and Sunhee holds them close as she waits in the park. It’s a sunny day and even though the air is bitingly cold, the sun beats down overhead, providing her a little warmth. Still, she’s been sitting at this bench for nearly fifteen minutes and she can’t help but wonder if he won’t show.

She pulls her scarf tighter around her neck, sighing as she glances down at her phone once again.

She’s relishing in the warmth of the container against her cold fingers, staring blankly at her phone, when there’s a cough from above her.

She looks up.

It’s Baekhyun.

She can’t hide her surprise at the sight of him. She genuinely thought he wouldn’t show up, but here he is, arms crossed over his chest, nose pink from the cold, and eyes narrowed, mouth pressed into a thin line.

All she manages to say is, “Oh, you’re here.”

She sounds more surprised than she feels. Baekhyun gives her an incredulous look that makes her cringe a little. He says, tone clipped, “Of course I’m here. You asked to meet up.”

He doesn’t sit down, just stands and waits.

She looks up at him, meeting his unrelenting steely gaze for just a moment before she looks down at her lap. She feels awkward as she lifts the box of cookies, much the same way Simba is presented to the animal kingdom in Lion King. She feels ridiculous and awkward, but she pushes through anyway, “I just wanted to say I’m sorry.” She pauses before she hurriedly adds, “And—and I baked some cookies. For you.”

She peeks up at Baekhyun. He raises a brow, says, “What did you say?”

She bites her lip, doesn’t really want to repeat it because apologizing is hard, but she’s trying to be mature here, so she repeats, “I’m sorry.”

His brow only rises higher, right into his hairline.

She can’t help but continue, the words spilling from her lips before she can think them over, “I should have respected your boundaries instead of trying to pressure you into telling me things that clearly wasn’t any of my business. I’m sorry for taking out my anger on you. You were just being nice.”

The silence that follows her words is nerve-wracking. He stares at her, for a moment too long, gaze penetrating. She resists the urge to squirm.

“I’m not sure I heard you right. Can you repeat that?” Baekhyun says.

She can see the way his lips are twitching, the way his eyes are twinkling with amusement. She knows, right then, that she’s forgiven, that he heard, and he’s just messing with her. Still, she repeats it, just in case, “I’m sorry, Baekhyun.”

His smile spreads across his face slowly while his eyes continue to sparkle.

She clarifies, “And I’m not repeating it again.”

Baekhyun shrugs, reaching out to take the box of cookies from her. He opens the box, still smiling, eyes still twinkling, but his voice is pointed as he says, “Did you think cookies would bribe me into accepting your apology?”

“No.” She frowns, shaking her head too quickly.

He lets out a small snicker. “Liar.”

She surveys him intently to detect any hint of malice in his tone or expression and the last bit of tension inside her dissipates when she doesn’t find any.

“For the record.” He says as he takes a seat beside her on the bench, offering her a cookie from the box, “If you didn’t bring these, I probably would have made you suffer for a few more days.”

She pouts. He bumps his shoulder against hers, laughing brightly, the sound drifting through the park.

She attempts to snatch the cookies back, but he holds them over her head and laughs louder.

She still feels a bit awkward with Baekhyun, but he acts nonchalant as ever, suggesting they take a walk. There’s something so very normal about their conversations, something so casual and normal and nice. It’s like they’re just normal friends. It works to alleviate a lot of the tension and pent up emotions she has been feeling, even if she doesn’t even necessarily talk about those feelings to him in the first place. Somehow, Baekhyun’s wonderful at distracting her from Seulgi and Sunhee's terrible bouts of guilt.

There is something so terribly pleasant about Baekhyun’s company, even if he has poor taste in television.

(“Love Island is amazing.”

“This is the third reality TV show you’ve recommended me. Reality TV is trash, Baek.”

Baekhyun’s smile widens, slightly, even as he rolls his eyes and states, gesturing dramatically, “One man’s trash is another man’s treasure.”

“Oh, my God.”)

Baekhyun makes her laugh and forget her problems and she thanks God that her stress baking issue has come in handy for once in her life. 

~.~.~.~.~

Bad things happen, she’s come to learn, when one least expects it.

She should have expected it, what with all the bad things that have been happening in her life lately.

Days go by where all is quiet. Seulgi doesn’t mention Kai, too busy with work to really be home. Even Sunhee's assignments at work haven’t caused her headaches nor the urge to pull out her hair. Her clients have actually been pleasant. She even gets the chance to take her full lunch break, for the first time in months, and she and Sanha try out a fusion restaurant they had wanted to go to for a while now.

It’s after a rather uneventful day at work, however, when things take a turn for the worst.

She waits for Sanha to gather his things, leaning against his desk, rolling her eyes at the text Baekhyun sent her (Saw this at the store and thought of you along with a picture of trashcans for sale) when she hears Sanha snort over her shoulder.

“I see the resemblance.” Sanha says, eyeing Baekhyun's text.

She glares at him, ready to give him an earful about privacy, but Sanha cackles and skips right past her and out the office, his cackle bouncing off the walls.

She’s quick to follow him, but as she hurries out the building, she runs right into his back. She groans at the impact, peering around Sanha’s side as she says, “Why did you—”

“Hyung? What are you doing?”

Sunhee blinks at the man leaning against the sleek black car Sanha always gets into. He’s small, but of a stocky stature, his tank top emphasizing his broad shoulders and his arms. His eyes are on Sanha only and though his face has a certain kindness to it, under current circumstances, he looks anything but kind. He appears more annoyed than anything, but there’s something about this man that Sunhee can’t quite put her finger on.

He seems familiar to her, though she has no idea why. She chalks it up to him having similar physical characteristics to Sanha, since clearly this has to be Sanha’s big brother that picks him up every day.

“Get in.” He calls out, pushing himself off the black car before he gestures towards it.

Sanha frowns. “I—”

Sanha’s brother interrupts him, abrupt and sharp, more annoyed now than ever. He closes his eyes, as if he’s calming himself down, as he speaks, biting out each syllable with knifelike precision, “Not you, Sanha.”

His grave eyes land directly on Sunhee, then. That sense of familiarity increases tenfold and she blinks in surprise at the way he glares at her, as if she is the bane of his existence. The glare doesn’t seem to match his features at all. Not to mention, it is completely unwarranted. She bristles a bit, defensive.

“You." He says, "Shin Sunhee. Get in.”

Sunhee gawks at Sanha’s brother, just as her phone vibrates against her hip. As Sunhee takes in the man before her, something clicks. She knows why she recognizes him. It’s that man from the night Seulgi performed surgery on that kid. She doesn’t remember his name, but she remembers that expression on his face—that look of utter contempt. She can’t wrap her head around it because if she’s right about his identity, then he's Sanha’s brother and does that mean Sanha somehow—what does that mean?

She frowns, cautious, “…Why?”

Sunhee’s palm sweat with anxiety at the way the man just raises a brow at her, tilting his head as he scrutinizes her. It’s as if he’s contemplating whether he should bother answering her or if he should just toss her into his car himself and save himself the trouble. She remains half-hidden behind Sanha’s tall, gangly form, using him as a shield, more than anything. The man’s eyes flicker sideways, landing on Sanha briefly, and when his gaze returns to Sunhee, it’s a lot more subdued; patient.

He simply states, “Suho wants to see you.”

a/n: As always, feedback is super appreciated and welcome! Thank you soooo much for all the comments yall have already left I really like reading them and hope to respond to everything as soon as I can! <3

ps. who else is genuinely excited for super m? like I get the criticism but also I love all the members of Super M a lot so ksjfns I'm excited to see what they do with it