three

“Hey,” said Changmin, sliding into the seat across from her.

Tonight was the night, he decided, although he couldn't remember precisely when it was he told himself it would be so.

Yoona looked up, her fingertips lightly grazing the side of her empty beer bottle. It was evident that she had been sitting alone, he mused, noting the way she’d stretched her legs out in front of her on the floor. It was a Wednesday night, after all and there was a party going on. She had no where else to go for it was too late in the evening (or too early in the week) to be out anywhere besides home.

And SM was her home, his home, their home – whether they liked it or not.

Her eyes looked tired, clad in sweat pants and a loose shirt; her brown tresses pushed back into a messy ponytail, while most of her make-up had smeared off and left a messy trail against her skin.

Changmin thought she looked beautiful.

“Hello, Changmin.”

And still, she managed to smile a sweet grin for him.

A nervous fluttering came about inside of him – pushing, twirling, screaming to be let out as blood rushed to his ears and began to pound. He shut his eyes momentarily, taking a deep breath as he settled next to her, legs stretched out as well and thinking it over. This is wrong, this is wrong, his mind argued, chastising him.

But then why does it feel so right?

“Yoona,” he started, turning to look at her and watching concern etch her features. Her eyebrows scrunched up in interest as he opened his lips again, “there's something I need to tell you.”

She nodded soundlessly, urging him to go on and ignoring an ominous feeling swell within her stomach. She distracted herself from the feeling by looking down at her bottle awkwardly; avoiding his eyes as his breath came in warm puffs against the tendrils of hair on her forehead.

Changmin thought back to the night he had almost told her this, told her he loved her in the quiet of the night and watched her misconceive it, thinking of Kibum instead.

He winced inwardly, angry almost. As if Kibum would be the only man to ever have her in his arms. As if Kibum was the only one who was allowed to (hold her, kiss her, want her) love her.

I could love you too, Changmin’s heart murmured, I already do.

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