01
Winter Designs
Woo Bin watches the red haired man from a few rows back. He doesn’t know when his curiosity grew into slight obsession but he knows he’s a tiny bit creepy. It’s not like he stalks the man with gorgeous lips and a cute eye freckle, Woo Bin just makes sure he’s on the train a stop before him and gets off a stop after. He knows his train schedule and it’s his way to work anyway, he tries to convince himself it’s just happenstance. It works, slightly.
Woo Bin watches him sigh multiple times looking out the window before turning to his sketchbook. He loves watching the other man draw. It’s something Woo Bin wishes he had a talent for. Woo Bin chances a look outside taking his eyes off the object of his affection for a few seconds to see they’ve passed the man’s normal stop.
He opens his mouth to tell him but immediately closes it. What does he say in a situation like this? ‘Hey I know you don’t know me but you just missed your stop. I’m not being creepy or anything we just ride the train a lot together.’ He shakes his head and decides to cough really loudly. It doesn’t catch his attention. Woo Bin doesn’t know what else to do. He glances around to see if there’s another way he could grab the others attention.
Another sigh escapes the man in front of Woo Bin and he looks over to find the other man pushing his sketchbook aside and looking out the window. Woo Bin watches his eyes widen in the reflection on the glass. He watches when the man bolts up from his seat and down the aisle with his bag at his side and races off the train right before the doors close at the stop passed his.
If Woo Bin had been thinking clearly, he’d have realized he needed to get off there too. Instead his thoughts were on the white sketchbook and pencil left lying on the seat two seats in front of him. He looks around; no one is paying him any attention so he stands up and grabs the stuff sitting back down in the other man’s spot. It’s still warm from him and when Woo Bin inhales he can still smell the musky after shave the other used that morning.
“God. I just keep getting creepier,” he mumbles to himself in Korean. But that doesn’t stop him from flipping to the very first page of the book.
He’s excited when the very first page holds Hangul, not just English not Japanese or Chinese but Hangul. He’ll be able to fully and properly communicate with him. He’s never been more excited. The page shows the man’s name, address and phone number in both English and Korean in case the notebook is lost. Woo Bin thinks it’s slight overkill but at least he knows the man’s name and that he’s Korean. Lee Jong Suk. Somehow he thinks he’s never heard a more gorgeous and manly name.
Woo Bin runs his fingers lightly over the page smiling at it. He’s tempted to call the number now, to listen to what Jong Suk’s voice sounds like when he’s not muttering to himself or talking frantically to his boss but he wants to savior looking at the sketchbook and instead rides the train all the way into the suburbs of the Chicago land area flipping from sketch to sketch.
The variety in the drawings shocks Woo Bin. He knew Jong Suk was talented but everything in the book was amazing. Even the unfinished sketches, which were more plentiful than completed ones, were breathtaking. Each page holds something new; a portrait of someone, a new landscape sketch, or even a new fashion design. Woo bin was particularly interested in those. He’d noticed Jong Suk’s impeccable fashion sense but he didn’t know he was a designer. Woo Bin’s curiosity grows stronger with each page.
It’s more than half way through the book when Woo Bin almost wants to cry. There on the page is a sketch of himself, asleep and leaning against the window of the train with his arms folded. The sketch is actually finished and Jong Suk even signed it.
Does that mean Jong Suk knows he watches him? Or is he as curious about Woo Bin as Woo Bin is about him? The questions swirl in Woo Bin’s mind and before he can lose his nerve, he pulls out his phone, flips to the front of the book and poises his fingers over the keys to dial Jong Suk’s number. He nearly jumps out of his skin when the phone starts ringing in his hand.
Todd Sanders reads clearly across the screen and Woo Bin groans. How could he completely forget he had work today? He would have been a little early if he had gotten off with Jong Suk but now he’s hopelessly late. He answers it, it’d be worse if he didn’t, and holds it away from his ear slightly.
“Woo Bin, where the hell are you," the other man hollers into the phone, “you were supposed to be here an hour ago.”
“Sorry, sorry,” he replies in accented English. He’s tempted to burst into that popular Super Junior song but Todd would just get more irate.
“I don’t want apologies I want someone to cover the Men’s department.”
“I know I fell asleep on the train. I’ll be there in half an hour it’s on its way back that way now.”
“This better not happen again,” Todd huffs and the line goes dead.
Woo Bin continues staring at the notebook impatient as the train slides back towards Chicago. He looks up every minute or so to make sure his stop isn't approaching but it makes time slow down. He can't afford to lose this job.
His stop is announced over the speaker system, something he had ignored until Todd called, and he stands up to wait by the doors. He puts the sketchbook and pencil carefully in his dark tan messenger bag and throws the bag across his chest. The doors open and he flies out using his long legs to propel him towards Macy's in a long run.
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