oh sehun and his girlfriend

“Alright guys, I’m heading home with Luhan hyung today, so you can go without me.” Sehun bends down, his muscles already planning to contract and release appropriately in order to sling his bag over his shoulder, only to find his complex muscular plans utterly foiled and his bag kicked a staggering metre across from him. , he has to walk that much.

“You jerk, leaving us for that chick,” Chanyeol (the perpetuator of the unforgivable crime) frowns. “What happened to bikini babes at your swimming club? And besides, doesn’t the manly brotherhood code go something like: ‘bros before hoes’?”

“Yeah, but the manly I-have-a-life code goes something like: ‘ you, Luhan’s a dude and it’s chicks before ’. Get it right you moronic bastard.” Sehun’s on a roll today, and he knows it. With this comeback being as cold as ice, Sehun breezes past Chanyeol like some badass motherer and picks up his bag with a salute. “Adios amigos.”

“Yeah, that reminds me, don’t forget that English essay that’s due tomorrow.” Kyungsoo kindly refreshes his memory of that English lecture that he had comfortably slept through.

How a Spanish phrase reminded Kyungsoo of their English essay, nobody knows.

He catches a short glimpse of Joonmyeon nodding in approval. Though Sehun doesn’t really know what essay Kyungsoo is referring too, he just smiles a smile of mutual understanding; an expression he had learnt to master after pointless years of experience in mathematics classes on the extension pathway.
 

How Sehun ended up in that class remains forever a mystery unsolved.

“Alright, goodbye my peasants.” 

“Baekhyun... He said goodbye about two times... Is this some kind of farewell code that I still don’t know? Does that mean I have to say bye again—OW,” Sehun chuckles at the sight of a usually awkward Jongin being jabbed by Baekhyun. “Well, uh, bye... Sehun. Goodbye—, did I said it three times? Oh my god, what am I supposed to do—OW, BAEKHYUN, STOP, THAT SERIOUSLY HURTS!”

Ignoring him, the rest bid their farewells and part ways.

That afternoon was quite the breezy one; the wind carried crisp remnants of the fallen leaves from a withered tree affected by the cruelties of passing time, the clouds were wispy and so thin they seemed like sieved flour dusted lightly over a marbled bench top. But Sehun was just there, like a mix of skin and bones that never really harmonized with the flow of nature—never really fitted in. Maybe it was just his stoic expression that never fitted in.

But if there was one thing that fitted in with all things beautiful, it would be his beloved friend, Luhan. Don’t get the boy wrong, he’s not gay, pfft, of course not (not that he is against homouality or anything). He’s just—

“Sehun!”

Scrap that.

Sehun turns around to see the said man conflicting his usually empty mind, and smiles almost immediately upon eye contact. “Hey, hyung.”

“Do you want to go get bubble tea today?” he asks expectantly as he had everyday, with that honeyed voice and that familiar angelic beam. Sehun’s scared to destroy that. “Sorry, not today, I have to go buy stuff that my mom needs for dinner tonight.”

“Oh,” he replies rather emptily. “Do you want me to come with you?”

“No, it would just be a bother. Besides, you’ll just be a distraction,” the words slip out of his mouth unwillingly. Both unluckily and luckily, Luhan had taken this the wrong way. “Aw, Sehunnie, you’re so mean!”

Cuteness never worked on Sehun, but this time, its effects seemed similar to a 7.3 magnitude earthquake, and the aftermath was left evident in his expression. Usually, Sehun would be able to mask any emotion behind a poker-faced facade, but whatever he could do to salvage himself would prove to have no effects. Hiding it did nothing to help but make him look like he was constipated and was stuck in the unfortunate situation of looking like he had a stick shoved up his .

He wondered if he could pull a Jongin and run off on Luhan, but he can’t, because Luhan is Luhan and Jongin is Jongin, and he’s not about to turn into an awkward little . “Oh, I have to turn left here. I’ll see you tomorrow, Luhan.”

“Okay then. See you, Sehun!” the elder of the two replies happily, skipping away like some hormonal teenage girl. Add a skirt to his equation and Sehun’s got himself a girlfriend. Though it’s worrying that Sehun feels tingly in all the wrong places when imagining a female Luhan with hair and dat booty doh and the “whole package” (if you catch his drift), he feels strangely not guilty for doing so.

He shrugs off the feeling as he enters the convenience store, but not before using “The Force” to magically gain entrance into the store via automatically opening glass doors.

With the comforting presence of his mother, his grocery adventure would have taken to a length of at least five minutes, but instead, has lengthened to that of a homily given by a talkative Italian priest on a sweltering Sunday afternoon. 

He wanders around like a lost soul before finding help.

“To your left, sir,” an employee kindly pointed out to him when he had asked for the whereabouts of the baked beans. But even with this ever-so-helpful assistance, Sehun remains as loss as a chick without its mother hen. He lets out a strangled cry of sheer relief when he discovers the very-much-sought-out-for canned section and ignore the set of stares that had come across his way.

If an average civilian is equipped with the task of having to luggage around two bags filled with groceries, they would carry each of the plastic bags on one hand, lifting it off the ground and heading home with no hassle. The average civilian is apparently incompatible with Oh Sehun, who decides to place his food in a small cardboard box that he had adopted after finding it on the side of the road and dragging it along by attaching a thin string of washing line wire to it. “Genius,” he praises himself with a whisper as he tilts his head backwards to stare into the sky.

The sky had become a canvas painted black; splattered occasionally with clouds of grey and dots of white. He sighs, thinking about how the distant stars in the sky.

“Suns are supposed to be big, but when I see it from here, they’re nothing but dots,” he muses to nobody in particular. “If even the great suns are nothing but specks of light to me, why do I still feel so small?”

He feels philosophical as .

He praises himself, certainly not because he actually managed to memorize a quote from a book, but because he is still under brat mode after having made the ingenious invention of pulling along his groceries in a cardboard box.

Sehun jerks his head sharply to the left when he hears a chorus of laughter erupt not too far from him, revealing a group of hooded night-dwellers that look like nothing but trouble. Some grip onto empty beer bottles, and some with cigarettes planted between their teeth. Sehun begins dragging his cardboard pet even faster.

“Hey, hey,” a rough voice booms, his words interrupted with a harsh cough obvious from the effects of a small tobacco stick made for the seekers of danger. Sehun doesn’t quite know who the man is calling, so he picks up his pace, turning into an awkward half-walk-half-run motion. “You, stop right there kid!”

He stops immediately with his back facing his potential killers, trepidation almost too immediately ensuing him. But before he gets the time to completely turn around, he sees a blur of white.

When he’s finished his dramatically slow turn, he realizes that the men are gone.

But screw that, Sehun has no time to think about what had happened to him; he had already begun running for his life to save his bratty .

saranghae

Really, really, really long time since I've updated. I hope you still care about me and my crappy writing. After reading masterpieces like Anterograde Tomorrow (by changdictator, if you haven't read it, please check it out), I've been feeling really insecure of my writing style and plotting and re-evaluating life as a whole because there are simply too many talented people in this world that it's so unfair and it makes me really said and omg why do I still live if there's other people who can do it for me. 

Anyway, I've only updated because of my seven subscribers that you have no idea I'm grateful for. At least someone still gives the s, right?

Thank you for your s guys.

credits - contradictori