"I’ll show you in the future!"

"I’m not trusting you with anything!"

"Bull, you trust me with your secrets and dark feelings, but you can’t trust me with this?"

"You barely even passed!"

"I did not barely pass!"

"You can’t even move this stick right!"

"Yes I can!"

"And you’re short, too!"

"Says the midget—"

"Did you just call me midget?” Jonghyun seethes, flames almost literally showing in his eyes. By now, you should be completely terrified for your life seeing as the previous discussion has totally veered into a different topic.

"But I can drive—"

"You called me midget!" he provides his non-sequitor to your previous statement, entirely enveloped by your (not so much) slight insult.

"You called me short!" you retaliate, waving your arms around and grabbing a pillow from the bed you two were sitting on to whack him in the side.

"Well, back to the point, you barely passed your driving test, and you expect me to be okay with sitting with you in a car?!"

So here’s the thing.

Two years ago, you and Jonghyun had this conversation about driving and how Jonghyun is this really safe driver compared to his reckless driving in Mario Kart and Street Racer and how he really needs to learn not to drive at the speed like a normal grandmother does and how you’d trust your life with him in a car since he is a safe driver, but he would never trust you with a car.

So much for best friends (and unrequited love on your side), eh?

But, he said he’d let you drive him around once, just once, and then he’ll see if he can trust you enough to be in a car with you.

Like the bumper sticker says, happens, and didn’t actually happen, it’s just you’re really bad at parking and a little jumping when backing up out of the driveway and maybe violating a few traffic laws here and there like missing the stop sign because there’s a pretty butterfly flying next to your window outside, so Jonghyun’s totally gone and convinced himself that he would never get in a car with you. Ever.

"You promised you would! I’ll be extra careful, just for you!" you plead, internally screaming to his mind that you’d pretty much do anything for him because he is your best friend that doesn’t have feelings for you, quite obviously so because he’s frolicking around and making out with his girlfriend in the halls of the university, to which you comment once or twice to get a room because best friends rules allow that.

"Fine, fine!" he cries, throwing up his arms and scrambling off the bed to fish some clothes out of his miniscule side of your closet.

-~-

"So?" you smirk, twirling your key chain around your index finger with your other hand on your sweat-clad hip, taking in his defeated look.

He mumbles under his breath and turns to walk away, but not without you grabbing his bicep to stop him.

"Sorry, didn’t catch that?" you sing-song, your grin splitting wider on your face.

"You’re a good driver, okay? I trust you with my life in a car. There, happy?" he asks while pouting and looking at your from under his bangs. He’s not using the—oh great, he’s using the puppy eyes.

You lean in and boldly peck him on the cheek before pushing him towards his car so he can’t see the blood running towards your cheeks and shove him in so he’s not late for his date with his girlfriend.

But when you shuffle back to your room, his scent of cologne and forests linger in the air and you’re just reminded of everything that hurts, everything that’s turned behind you, against you, and you try to tell yourself that it’s okay, that you can live with this.

You scoff at your own thoughts. Who are you kidding?