rating: PG-13 ( for reference to grimy partying, swearing, and a bunch of Skins-influenced shenanigans )

genre: angst

word count: approx. 1,600+

Even after a night full of hedonism, Soojung managed to gather enough of herself to walk home. Not that there was much to collect; she knew well enough that to bring anything besides the clothes on your back to one of Sehun’s parties was to lose them forever. Literally. That’s how Soojung’s best friend Jinri lost her phone one night. (As well as her ity; but Soojung wasn’t supposed to know that.)

The suburbs slept in this Saturday morning, still wet from last night’s rainfall. The gray tones of the sky reflected off the surface of the puddles, showing like an alternate universe until rippling underneath Soojung’s black combat boots.

In her own reflection, Soojung could see the makeup smudged around her puffy eyes, the new tangles made in her black hair, and the odd creases pressed in her heather gray dress. She can’t remember how she fell asleep, but at least she was out enough to keep from dreaming. She hated her dreams. When she was awake, at least she could alter the reality with a couple shots and a joint. But if she fell asleep without the aid of a few worldly methods, he’d come to haunt her.

Jongin was one of the few reasons why Soojung despised the calm. Why she can’t be left on her own for even five minutes without feeling like she was going mad. He was the reason for Soojung’s self-inflicted damnation—her very own Hell on Earth with thick lips and indulgent eyes.

He had actually told her one day that they would look good together. In her own heart, Soojung supposes that they would; but in her mind she knew that they couldn’t be together, period. Whether it was out of love or lust or both, a relationship with Jongin was out of the question. There was too much uncertainty in the idea of being with him that Soojung decided to opt out.

But just because she wouldn’t be with him doesn’t mean she could avoid him completely. Jongin and Soojung were both part of the same circle of friends. If either of them suddenly went missing, the others were bound to notice. (At least, once they’ve sobered up and took a head count.)

Though, at first glance, Jongin doesn’t seem like anything special; and initially, Soojung didn’t believe that he was. But soon after, she realized that he wasn’t like the rest of the guys she knew because he looked at her differently—not with the suggestively ravenous look she’s more accustomed to seeing; but with a more ambiguous, pensive expression.

Soojung believes she’s felt it more than once: him taking all her years into context and truly seeing her, despite what she deliberately puts out to throw people off. When Jongin saw Soojung, it was obvious very soon that he was one of the only (if not the only) people to see past the facade and into her world. A world full of messes and screw-ups and disasters—all made by Soojung, and Soojung alone.

Jongin could see all of it, but never once did he attempt to run away. She didn’t know what to do with it, but Soojung still anticipated it, all the same.

Sitting down at a bus stop, Soojung withdrew a cigarette from the inside of her leather jacket and held it between her teeth. Then, after patting herself for a lighter, she swore to herself until an outstretched hand offered her a flame.

One glance, and Soojung suddenly felt a thousand times heavier.

“Thanks,” she said, without meeting his eyes. She steadied the cigarette with her fingers, then pulled back once finding purchase.

“You’re welcome.” Jongin closed his lighter, stuffing it in one of his front pockets. Then he sat down beside Soojung, his eyes looking vacantly at the empty street. Made of brown hair, bronze skin, and unreasonably wrinkled clothes, he made Soojung want to scream.

“Why are you always one of the first people to leave?” he said.

Soojung exhaled a puff of smoke, smelling of tobacco and burnt sugar. Her eyes stayed elsewhere. “I doubt that’s really what you wanted to ask me.”

“Well, what do you want me to say?” Feigning a polite tone, Jongin said, “‘Gee, Soojung, pretending that I don’t exist is a pretty effed up thing to do. Would you be so kind as to explain?’”

“I don’t have to explain myself to you.”

“Why? Because you’re Jung Soojung and you love being an enigmatic all the time? You actually enjoy leaving guys hanging after they’ve told you that they loved you?”

Soojung shifted her eyes, agitated. “I didn’t ‘leave you hanging,’ Jongin. You already know my answer.”

“But you never explained to me why, and that’s what bothers me the most.” Jongin paused, searching for words. “I just—I just can’t believe you would say no when nothing’s stopping you.”

“Winning a girl over isn’t as simple as saying I love you. That’s just the same load of they show in the movies,” she muttered.

“But do you at least believe me?”

“Does it matter?”

“Does it matter to you?” Jongin turned to look over Soojung, his eyes reflecting the cold image of her. “I love you, Soojung. I care about you. But sometimes I just wish you would stop playing mind games and give me a straight answer for once.”

“It’s not that simple—”

“Then if it’s so ing complicated, explain it to me! I know I’m not the smartest person in the world, but I want to understand. I want to know.”

“You’ll never understand me, Jongin,” said Soojung, as if without question. “No one would, even if they tried. All they see is this and they never expect me to be anything apart from that.”

After a beat of silence, Jongin made an exasperated breath. “You know what I see, Soojung? All I see is you making excuses not to get close to people. You aren’t complicated—you make things complicated. When things get hard, you come up with a hundred reasons to give up and just run away because you don’t want the other person to be the first one to leave.”

Soojung closed her eyes, her voice insistent. “Jongin, stop. Just—stop talking—”

Jongin only took her hand in his, his warmth seeping into her icy bones. To Soojung, it felt too much like putting her hand on a burning stove-top. It hurt, and she wanted to get away, but she couldn’t because she was too stunned to even move.

“I’m not gonna run away, Soojung,” he said gently. “You might think that, but you’re wrong.”

Soojung finally turned her eyes on him and tensed under the weight of his gaze. Her expression appeared mystified yet troubled, curious yet confused, awed yet very clearly afraid.

Jongin didn’t think there was anything, or anyone, Soojung was afraid of—least of all, him. She always seemed so indomitable, very much in control of herself and most of the things around her. But, there were some things that were left out of Soojung’s control; and though she’s tried hard to avoid it, here she finds this silly little boy wedged into the deepest parts of her heart. The dangerous parts that hold so much love for him she could never risk letting out, or else all chaos would ensue.

He could be the end of her.

But only if she let him.

With lowered eyes, Soojung shook her head despairingly as she pulled her fingers out of his. “Jongin, I—I can’t do this with you anymore. I just can’t,” she said.

“I’m not asking for much, Soojung. All I want is for you to try—to give us a try!” he pleaded.

“What you’re asking for is too much!” she protested. “It’s like—it’s like you want me to sit with you inside a room full of bombs. Sure, we’d be together, but it’d only be a matter of time until boom. We’re all ing destroyed.”

She paused to let the words sink in; and surely enough, they did. She could see the urgent look on Jongin’s face fade into a blank, his clear eyes clouded by her. “Saying you love me isn’t simply that, Jongin. Telling a person that you love them is like promising them a forever, when really, that’s just not possible because none of us are guaranteed an eternity. Feelings change—and people change—all the time.” Staring at the smoldering end of her cigarette, Soojung said, “Today you say you love me. But tomorrow it could be different.”

“Well,” said Jongin, facing the sky, “I can’t promise you forever.” He turned his face to look at her. “But I can promise you now. Shouldn’t that be enough?”

Soojung smiled at him, but it wasn’t the kind of smile Jongin was hoping for. “It just isn’t that simple.”

He tensed slightly as she leaned in and gave him a kiss on the cheek, her hair smelling of smoke and the night before. Pulling away, Soojung stood up and walked off without another word; and thankfully, Jongin had nothing left to say, either.

As the sun rose above rooftops and the sky turned a pale blue, the only thing Soojung could see was the face of a boy who looked completely and utterly lost. What she said had done its damage—to him and, sequentially, her. It hurt her to hurt him, but Soojung believed that this would pale in comparison to what could have happened if she had done the opposite. The ache in her chest, the tears in her eyes, and the painful longing woven into her bones were all byproducts of love; and if this was all love had to offer, Soojung didn’t want anything to do with it.

Running away was never the right answer; but it was the easier thing to do. It’s what made everything else in the world—even love, Soojung thought—simple.

author's note: I have a guilty pleasure, and that is watching Skins. It's been up on Netflix for a while, and I've always been curious, so I watched the first four seasons within a span of two weeks. As much as Iove it for its angst and abundance of social issues, I probably wouldn't recommend it because it's really, really explicit -- as in, I don't think you should watch it unless you're genuinely into that kind of thing, hah.

This story is very much inspired by one of the couples from the second generation. (Freffy, to be more specific.) I was never familiar with the idea of love being a bad thing, but I can see how it could be something people would be afraid of because it's just so personal. Like, you're only a hair's breadth between feeling in love or feeling heartbreak; and sometimes, it just doesn't seem like it's worth the risk at all. That's the kind of attitude Soojung has towards the subject while Jongin is very much willing to go to the ends of the earth for her. I might whip up a story in his POV -- I at least know that I want to, LOL -- but with school, family, and TBB, I probably won't have enough time for it until later.

Sometimes I wish I could just spend a week reading and writing. I would never leave my room, just read and write. And maybe eat, but it's easy for me to forget even that when I'm immersed in a different world xD

Anyway, thank you all so much for reading! I'm sorry I haven't been able to frequently write like I used to. I really miss those days when I had a drabble/one-shot to post once a week, haha. I hope you all are having a great week and, if you celebrate it, I wish you a happy Thanksgiving! No matter the situation, I try to be thankful under all circumstances; but it's still a difficult thing to do, so I think it's good to have a yearly reminder on a national scale. See you guys at the next update! - Ella

post note: I had a sticky time trying to rate this thing, but since there was no explicitly explicit material, I decided to put it as PG-13. It probably isn't a big deal to most people, but I take things like this very seriously, and hopefully it isn't much of an issue.