JoyRene, requested by baejuhyexns (InfinityPenguins) <3
Inspired by the lyrics of Hurricane by Panic! At The Disco 
(not by the original meaning of the song, though. Just a phrase that seems to fit here and there ^^)
 

At night festive streetlights blink without discretion, bright as polished ivory, and down a street Park Sooyoung bumbles. She passed littered markets with a more uplifting step, and the colours bloodshot red and emerald green dappled over her body, while bitter winter wind coursed through her hair in drunken breaths. Her nose felt blocked and bitten red by the cold weather. Four sleeps, and it would be Christmas.

And then she stops at the bus stop right under a blinking green light. Consequently it floods her sight with nothing but obstructing tones of emerald, olive, jade; she doesn’t mind an ounce, though. Green has always been her favourite colour.

Footsteps a little bit more clumsy with the edge of cider, Sooyoung hovered onto the bus, and after flashing a winning smile with her Student Bus Pass in hand made her inept way onto the seats. Slightly drunk Sooyoung always became a deep thinker in moments of silence – she wasn’t sober enough to calm any waffly, philosophical, melodramatic view that came to mind, but wasn’t drunk enough for her every thought to be regurgitated, blurry nonsense.  She thought of how she had settled into student life as the first few months had passed. Her Theatre History course wasn’t something to detest just yet, and she had already had her share of good nights out, most of which with her roommate, Son Seungwan –

Seungwan. Turning her blurry head, she noticed that she was actually on the bus next to Seungwan. Scratch that, Seungwan had actually been alongside her the entire evening.

…Seungwan was even talking to her right now.

“Oh, huh?” the younger of the two nodded with fluttering and heavy eyelids, “Hmm, yeah, yeah.” Sooyoung was quite sure she didn’t make any sort of decipherable sound, and she had no idea what she just responded to, but by Seungwan’s always colourful reply (“Yeah! It was, wasn’t it?”) she had obviously made incredible contribution. Slightly drunk Sooyoung smirked to herself, eyelids giving up and now furtively closed, agreeing that slightly drunk Sooyoung was one hell of a genius.

When the bus came to a halt at a traffic light was when she let her eyes open slightly again, only to see that they were at the stop next to the theatre. She knew this stop, she regularly admired this stop, and regularly enough to notice that one of the black-framed posters was glorious and new. The means of transportation jutted off again before she could fully form the title of the poster, but there was to be some sort of performance by some sort of touring dancer; even slightly drunk Sooyoung could conclude that this dancer was incomprehensibly beautiful, wide eyed, delicate and alluring, and every term of wonderment she understood. It itched in her that she must see this dancer. She felt gravitated in a way even she could not explain, and not wanting to confuse herself, she blamed the cider.

Hey, stranger, I want you to catch me like a cold.

Three sleeps ‘til Christmas, and Sooyoung bullied the settling pavement frost at her toes, reading over the same poster text and staring at the same otherworldly girl – Bae Joohyun. Beautifully named Bae Joohyun was a girl five years older than her but just as pure and soft-looking, with limbs clean cut in the shadows the poster boasted. Elegant limbs only to be seen in action by those who paid fifty thousand won and established themselves in the audience around her stage any night that week.
For a second, she went to examine the frost she had kicked and gathered into the side of the wall, and noticed a fallen link from the overhanging Christmas streetlights. This one was a red one, not green – as red as a fine, glossy apple, or as red as lust – the colour looked fresh, but prepared to fade. Clasping it with a glove, she threaded the little light decoration into her coat pocket.

Three sleeps ‘til Christmas, and Joohyun sharply inhales. From backstage the stuffy atmosphere fills her lungs and dries , and she purses her pretty lips, mentally skipping over every sharp movement she was moments away from moulding herself into. Nerves pierce down her spine like continuous pin drops, and with heavy, rattling breaths her youthful, slender fingertips clasp onto the curtain edge one last time before fading into this shadowy scape of performance and finesse.

I am a wolf among the sheep
Gnawing at the wool over my eyes.

Sooyoung forgets that the one class Seungwan and her share is Contemporary Performance until she hears her loud, yet wonderfully entertaining complaint about the bracing draft stinging in from her side of the studio. (And Sooyoung agrees; why would you let the wintry cold in? She is very much for the spirit of Christmas, but not quite as behind that spirit being inflicted in the form of uncomfortable spinal shivers and unwanted goosebumps.) Sooyoung then feels a clot of guilt forming in her stomach realising just how dazed out she has been, mesmerised by a soft face, kitten eyes and poster portrayed elegance. Two days since seeing that poster, Christmas two sleeps away, and she’s already exhausted by these feelings.

“Wan,” she had called looking over their murky windowsill that afternoon, lapping her eyes over the clock with the frequency of waves caught in a thrashing storm. It was nearing the time of Bae Joohyun’s performance, something she could not forget as those gentle features bombarded her every sight. “I think I’m going to go out.”

Seungwan was present within their modest kitchen unit, boiling pig bones and vegetable scraps down into gravy, infiltrating the dorm with the festive smells she knew most comfortably. Food made her think of comfort, and comfort collided with her mother, and this was yet another Christmas she’d have to drag through without her. So she made a lot of food.
She paused, scrutinizing how dark it had already become outside, then deeply watched the younger’s facial changes as if they held some sort of code to this vague statement. “Uh, okay.”

Soon, Sooyoung graces through the street celebrations and notices that this winter wind hits her beautiful cheeks in a lot less of a drunken way. It hits her then that tonight, cider intake cannot be used as an excuse for what pounds in her ears and weighs on her heart. closes up with panic and her cheeks prominently burn red; sheer excitement to see some girl from a poster is eating into her very existence, and she doesn’t want to control it.

Joohyun feels her eyes sting when Kang Seulgi, her dear touring companion and another dancer blather over Christmas, and clutches onto the curtain edge again like some sort of childlike habit. Performing consumed her all at once – she had lost track of the days, and of most things, and she hadn’t fully gotten over the idea of still presenting herself on stage on the 25^th. It was as if she lived in an abandoned, glorified cavern without festivity, and in the safety of night, sometimes she realised she sought someone to drag her out of it.

It's two sleeps ‘til Christmas (she thinks – she’s only got that idea from overheard conversations). The curtains draw out and present her in her true, natural wonderment, that soul MR kicking at her heels, and she can’t help searching the crowd for a kindred saviour.
There’s a dappled, shiny gaze glowing from a row near the front, all so clear amongst furrowed masculine brows. It reminds her of an emerald beside an emerald; these eyes which glint like jewels and glow evermore when Joohyun looks further into them, somehow. Her body rotates around her to the dance automatically, but her stare is of hope. It is longing, it is constant.

We are a hurricane.

While finishing her dance, she discovers that her Christmas is all about this hurricane. And amongst the seats around the stage, emerald-eyed Sooyoung is burning.

It is the 24^th, and no absence can be seen of minced pies, of mulled wine, of glittering red and green – except in Joohyun’s apartment, that is.
Christmas always came to her as a distraction, a kind of hope in itself that was longing and constant.
As she flicks her fingertips over a purple rug, she’s taunted by her own hurricane; it’s still so strong. She finds herself hoping so desperately that she would see this emerald-eyed girl once more, or in dreams cross into her and let her drag her away, let her carry her like a calm ocean. Christmas is a sleep away, but it is only now that the idea of working on the day burrows deep.

Cause you’re behind my eyelids when I’m all alone.

Sooyoung and her mother escaped to the joyous markets when Christmas Day struck. Everywhere bleated known musical classics, and the townspeople followed suit, not one shying from merrily screaming to every trill of All I Want For Christmas Is You, not one without a smile printed all over their face. As a 'Merry Christmas' was repeated to every passer-by, Sooyoung felt that she was content.

Suddenly, something ahead drew her in, and without control she tore away from her mother and the local bustle. In a performance outfit covered by a thick, purple winter coat stood something and someone she always assumed was impossible. Some sort of optical illusion.
There it was: that same soft complexion she had gazed over the night before and nearly combusted, this time out of its poster form. After scribbling rapidly on a note and it into her pocket, she broke into a sprint – she supposed in the fear of losing what had quickly become the most important fragment of her life.

“Excuse me!” she bleated, more shrill and breathy than she would have hoped to first sound to this gorgeous hurricane. “You’re that dancer!” it almost sounded pained.

At this, she had caught right up to Joohyun’s sleeve. Hearing “dancer”, Joohyun turned. Sooyoung was instantly taken aback by the widening of her kitten eyes, as if Joohyun’s impression of her had any sort of likeness to what she felt herself.

“Bae Joohyun.” said the college student in a relieved exhale. It was something that thawed the frosty pinkness of Joohyun’s little ears, as if she had never heard her name so excellently called in her life, even more so than the dazzling way it was drawled out before every show. As she watched these emerald-like, glinting brown eyes peer so closely at her, Joohyun supposed her face looked deadly frightened.

She almost choked. “You’re that girl.”
Her demeanour softened so dramatically, and Sooyoung’s heartfelt hurricane was all too strong.

Joohyun felt some sort of need for explanation. “S-sorry, I’ve …..noticed you.” If it could even pass as explanation, that was.

Sooyoung broke into such a deep smile that Joohyun had no doubts it could help people see in the dark, and her heart almost leaped out of her chest. “My name’s Park Sooyoung.”

“It’s really nice to meet you, Park Sooyoung.”

“Don’t perform tonight.” Blurted the college student, and while in the spirit of confusion and being torn up by hurricanes she discarded any urge to filter herself.

“I…I have to.”

And as the dancer reluctantly started towards the theatre, she tugged at her wrist. “Please, Joohyun.” Unfortunately, she noticed the sorry glaze in those lusciously delicate kitten eyes, so she then mindlessly threaded out everything in her pocket and firmly planted it in Joohyun’s youthful palm.

Joohyun keeps the items balled up until she enters the backstage door, letting her flowing black hair cloud over her face like a cloud on her dithering emotions in a hunch.

Outstretching her palm sweaty with affection, she inspects these elements.

Attached to a fallen Christmas light which had faded to the soft colour of pastel pink, her most favourite pink, there is a scribbled note.
“Fix me, or conflict me, I’ll take anything.” She recites, staring at the gloomy wires cobbled all over the ceiling for the meaning. There’s what looks like a dorm address underneath that sentence.

Joohyun goes with her heart.

The Christmas next year is slightly more drunken, but Sooyoung’s a year older so she feels like she can hold it. And Joohyun doesn’t have to tour, for she’s long resided in the place she drifted to last. Sighing, she admired the foggy blackness outside of the window while gritting her teeth at hearing the same Mariah Carey song already played around her eleven times that day, but overall the sigh was of content.

Sooyoung launched a kiss at her love’s cheek with so much enthusiasm, she forgot how petite Joohyun was, pretty much ramming her into the side of the wall.

“Maknae, don’t kill your girlfriend.” Seungwan leaped forth from the kitchen out of nowhere, her tone humorous and overly dramatic, eyebrows swarming over every inch of her forehead. She was wearing the not particularly fetching Olaf apron Joohyun had given her that day, and as if conducting miracles, she still managed to look bizarrely stunning. “For the LAST TIME, that’s not how it works!”

“Seungwan, go away.” Joohyun snorted cutely. There was an attempt of playfully slapping her, but she still faced the fate of being trampled by Sooyoung up against a wall.

“Okay Joohyun, just trying to save your life.”

As Seungwan’s melodic and generous laughing coated the passage back into the kitchen, Sooyoung released Joohyun from her trample for the most part. She still gripped on her small wrists in a way that made her certain she’d never willingly let go.

“Bae Joohyun,” Sooyoung suddenly hushed, furrowing her brows and seeming concerned. As Joohyun’s heavier breath hit her neck, masking her concern, Sooyoung looked at her with the same emerald glinting eyes that made her unable to possibly tear away. “Happy Christmas, and thank you.”

An intimate moment passed, and in their little bubble the music seemed to dim. “Why are you thanking me?” asked Joohyun, gently.

“Thank you for fixing me.” Fix me, or conflict me, I’ll take anything.

They each had this habit of declaring things, declaring things that missed a clear beginning or end, declaring things that made the other search their loving eyes deeply for a set out code or answer. But for this sentence, Joohyun thought back to how she had subconsciously given herself into this hurricane a year beforehand at their doorstep, and she knew exactly what the reference was to.

She did not know if it was due to the Christmas warmth or passing year, but something brought that hurricane back. With all of her heart, Joohyun pressed her lips into Sooyoung’s, who ending up curving slightly and kissing her passionately and lovingly back with every known feeling she had. It was as if Sooyoung could walk right into that hollow in Joohyun’s heart cleared out just for her to fit in, through this kiss. And as the college student felt a familiar soft hand carefully brushing her cheek, it was the sweetest sense of knowing.

Outside of their bubble, there was a shortly answered knock on the door.
“Merry Christmas- ew.” Seulgi lowered her sharp, warm fist from rattling on the door, eyes quickly drifting ahead of her to the window and then shamefully back at Seungwan.

The ever so slightly younger companion laughed melodically. “Those two are gross, right?” Too, Seulgi laughed her adorable laugh and nodded, agreeing that they were indeed grossly cute.

A/N: So there you go, Momma Bear Tara ;;;;^^ Sorry I drifted a bit apart from your original request!
That was too fluffy for my cold soul to deal with lol.