Starstruck

Late night shifts meant stars. And Song Hei.

The kiss scene, but from Baekhyun’s POV—aka even cheesier. I think my rewrite turned him into a mega-simp. No regrets.

Set: Chapter 35 of Cutlass

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Baekhyun didn’t mind late night shifts.

He could look at the stars, which shone in abundance when the skies were clear. It was chillier than the day, but compared to the temperatures of Vasiliea, it wasn’t cold to the point that it was out of his comfort range. Luhan liked to complain about nighttime being too freezing, so Baekhyun figured it was the sixteen years he’d spent with late-spring snow that trained him for this because it barely bothered him.

Earlier on in the day, he had been kindly threatened by his friend again to talk to Song Hei about ‘improperly kissing her and being an ’, which he still hadn’t done. There just hadn’t been the right moment, and given the fact that Hei had burst out crying less than two minutes after waking up, Baekhyun was glad he didn’t immediately bombard her with that. Then Jongin had interrupted him before he got a chance to vocalize his thoughts, then everyone was at the mess hall, then… there hadn’t been time.

Tomorrow, Baekhyun reassured himself. I’ll do it tomorrow.

It was a couple minutes later that the door to below-deck creaked open. He couldn't see from the helm, but immediately more alert, Baekhyun peered down and tried to catch a glimpse of whoever it was.

True to his suspicion, a couple of seconds later, Song Hei’s figure appeared. There was only so much he could see under the moonlight, but she seemed to be barefoot, still decked in a nightgown—she’d probably woken up. Baekhyun watched as she headed for the railing, head tilted towards the sky.

He opened his mouth to call her, but for some reason, her name wouldn’t make it out of his mouth. Was now the right time? What if she didn’t want to talk about it? What if, what if, what if—there were just so many possibilities. Luhan had made it sound so easy, but technically speaking, he’d never been in a proper relationship either. Heejin—well, his father had had her executed before he could summon so much the courage to acknowledge his feelings aloud. Everyone after her had been somewhere between drunk-tavern-one-night-stands or flings that were occasionally prolonged.

(“So really,” Luhan had concluded when Baekhyun brought that up, “you’re probably just as lost as Hei is when it comes to a real relationship. Gotcha.”)

It was at least another minute before Baekhyun managed to summon the dregs of his courage. “Song Hei,” he called.

She turned around. Baekhyun waved at her.

Another half a minute later, she had mounted the steps to the helm and was making her way towards him. Now that she was closer, he could tell that she was definitely barefoot, wearing a relatively thin nightgown, and also shivering.

“Why are you up?” was the first thing that came out.

She moved a step closer towards him. “Couldn’t sleep.”

“Why are you wearing so little?” he continued. “You’re going to freeze. You’re not even wearing shoes or socks.”

She gave him a sheepish wince. “I forgot?”

It was really, really unfair that a simple half-smile made Baekhyun feel warm. He began shrugging his coat off instead. “Your arm isn’t bandaged,” he told Hei, because pointing out the obvious was much easier for his concentration. “You should’ve gotten someone to bandage it before you went to sleep.”

“Jongdae said it was best to leave it like that and then wrap it up in the morning.”

“Don’t trust Kim Jongdae,” he joked, then offered the coat to Hei. “Here. If you’re going to stay up here, at least don’t freeze.”

She tried to nudge his arm away from her. “You’ll be cold, then.”