smile for me once
473w. pg-13. luhan/chorong, side suho/chorong.
it's 4am and he just wants to hear her voice.
a/n: (don't look at me i couldn't help myself okay)
“Hello? …Lu Han? Is everything okay?” her voice comes out groggy and disoriented. It’s four in the morning and he can hear the concern laced in her words. She is whispering.
Lu Han lets out a few shaky breaths, mind reeling and heart pounding. This was a bad idea - he knows it was - but once he had picked up the phone there was no stopping his fingers from hitting the first number on his speed dial. (She was still first, even if they hadn’t spoken in months. She would always be first. He hadn’t removed her number because he was still hoping for her to come back, even if deep down he knew that she wouldn’t.) He sits in silence for a moment, holding the phone up to his ear but not saying anything, staring down at the spot on his bed that just this time last year she had occupied.
“Lu Han?” she tries again, and he can hear a rustling as she presumably sits up in bed. He finds himself wondering if he’s there, too - if the reason she’s whispering is to make sure he doesn’t hear. The thought revolts him. He inhales sharply.
“I’m here,” the young man finally mumbles into the receiver.
His ex-girlfriend lets out a sigh, one that Lu Han isn’t sure if it translates into relief or pity or something in between. Annoyance, possibly. That might be the best word for it.
“What’s wrong?” she asks. He hears footsteps and concludes that she must be walking out of her bedroom now. His mind wanders to familiar images of her in those silly hello kitty boxer shorts she always likes to wear when she sleeps, her mismatched socks padding softly against the hardwood floor of her apartment.
He bites his lip. “Nothing,” he answers shakily. Everything, he thinks. “…I just wanted to hear your voice.”
There’s a brief moment of silence on the other side of the line. “Lu Han…” she finally says, soft and hesitant. He knows what this means. She doesn’t want to talk. And why should she? They aren’t together anymore. They haven’t been for quite some time now. She has a new boyfriend and a new life and he is insignificant. It’s a wonder that she even picked up the phone in the first place.
“I know,” he says hastily. “I’m sorry. I just…fuck. I miss you.”
He feels pathetic the instant he says it. His eyes begin to sting and he blinks in an attempt to ward off the forming tears, but to no avail. He holds his breath, waiting for her answer.
An eternity passes.
“I miss you too,” she finally speaks. But before he has a chance to respond, she hangs up, leaving him with nothing but the sound of the call ended tone and his own slow, uneven breathing.
it's 4am and he just wants to hear her voice.
a/n: (don't look at me i couldn't help myself okay)
“Hello? …Lu Han? Is everything okay?” her voice comes out groggy and disoriented. It’s four in the morning and he can hear the concern laced in her words. She is whispering.
Lu Han lets out a few shaky breaths, mind reeling and heart pounding. This was a bad idea - he knows it was - but once he had picked up the phone there was no stopping his fingers from hitting the first number on his speed dial. (She was still first, even if they hadn’t spoken in months. She would always be first. He hadn’t removed her number because he was still hoping for her to come back, even if deep down he knew that she wouldn’t.) He sits in silence for a moment, holding the phone up to his ear but not saying anything, staring down at the spot on his bed that just this time last year she had occupied.
“Lu Han?” she tries again, and he can hear a rustling as she presumably sits up in bed. He finds himself wondering if he’s there, too - if the reason she’s whispering is to make sure he doesn’t hear. The thought revolts him. He inhales sharply.
“I’m here,” the young man finally mumbles into the receiver.
His ex-girlfriend lets out a sigh, one that Lu Han isn’t sure if it translates into relief or pity or something in between. Annoyance, possibly. That might be the best word for it.
“What’s wrong?” she asks. He hears footsteps and concludes that she must be walking out of her bedroom now. His mind wanders to familiar images of her in those silly hello kitty boxer shorts she always likes to wear when she sleeps, her mismatched socks padding softly against the hardwood floor of her apartment.
He bites his lip. “Nothing,” he answers shakily. Everything, he thinks. “…I just wanted to hear your voice.”
There’s a brief moment of silence on the other side of the line. “Lu Han…” she finally says, soft and hesitant. He knows what this means. She doesn’t want to talk. And why should she? They aren’t together anymore. They haven’t been for quite some time now. She has a new boyfriend and a new life and he is insignificant. It’s a wonder that she even picked up the phone in the first place.
“I know,” he says hastily. “I’m sorry. I just…fuck. I miss you.”
He feels pathetic the instant he says it. His eyes begin to sting and he blinks in an attempt to ward off the forming tears, but to no avail. He holds his breath, waiting for her answer.
An eternity passes.
“I miss you too,” she finally speaks. But before he has a chance to respond, she hangs up, leaving him with nothing but the sound of the call ended tone and his own slow, uneven breathing.