my best lines have never even been my own
my best lines have never even been my own
1,379w; pg-13 (jieun/yongguk)
show me your heart.
a/n: for kirakirashahida! this probably should've been written forever ago, and i still owe you birthday fic, but small victories? lots of sappy cheesiness ahead, don't say i didn't warn you! inspired by this prompt ♥
“I think you’re terrifying.” Her tongue tastes rust as she licks the roof of her mouth, dry, like the words have just been sitting there, waiting for her to release them from her lips. She did. Her fingers loop together. She did.
And he laughs. He actually laughs, genuine, reaching-his-eyes and the base of his stomach laughter, like the truth is always so funny. It tickles her ears pleasantly, baritone, the kind of gravelly voice you want to wake you up in the morning and whisper you to sleep each night, and that, Jieun thinks, is maybe one of the reasons why he’s so terrifying.
His eyes soften when he notices the way her fingers are wringing the life out of each other. “Why?” he whispers and she swallows, just swallows, and breathes (out, in) and then there, that’s it, she’s lost all her reasons but the fear is still there, beating in her heart, one with her heart.
She thinks he’s somewhere in there too.
Because -
“Show me your heart,” she turns over onto her stomach, abandoning the book she has to finish by the end of the week on the bedside table. He’s to her right, on his back, on her mattress, eyes closed, eyebrows knitted. Sometimes she delves into the hypothetical, what-ifs, no rules, abstract concepts, has this tendency to do it a lot really (don’t say I didn’t warn you beforehand, Yongguk) but he never said he minded.
He cracks open an eye. Closes it again. Sighs, but he’s not aggravated, she can tell, he’s just - thinking. She taps her toes again the bed frame and lets him have his silence.
He reaches for her hand. It is warm, the pads of his fingers, his palm pressing against her own. He laces their fingers together almost lazily and then surrounds himself around her until her ear is against his chest and she can hear the beating of his heart.
It’s more than an answer. They don’t say anything, and when she closes her eyes, she can pretend that the world is just his heart, constantly beating, for her, for her, for her, is the lub-dub sound she says nothing about.
Yongguk’s smitten, Sunhwa texts her two days after Hyosung’s birthday party. Jieun sits up at the mention of the name and takes five minutes to decide on an appropriate response.
Oh? she texts back. Sunhwa replies almost immediately. God, you guys are so gross. Just call him already?
Don’t even try to pretend you’re nonchalant about this. A few seconds later and his number is challenging her through the screen of her phone.
Yongguk keeps telling her that she’s beautiful. It is not like Jieun has never heard such a compliment before, but compliments are just that - words, easy to twist and not sincerely meant. It has never settled well with her, constantly does the opposite - leaving her stomach in knots, the bad kind that make you think you may have indigestion - yet he keeps saying it and she keeps frowning.
“I know,” she snaps back one day when he says it again. He flinches and she suddenly regrets the harsh tone of her words. “I know,” she repeats, softer, trying to undo the damage, the naïve belief that damage can be undone. She’s had her heart broken too many times to know that that is never how the world works.
He smiles, almost apologetically, like she’s a child that he can’t bear to chastise. “I didn’t just mean your appearance, Jieun,” he says, the winter capturing the warmth of his breath in white tendrils.
“Then what?” she challenges, difficult. Yongguk puts his gloved hands against her cold-flushed cheeks and leans so close that she can feel his breath catch as he bends down to kiss her, an excuse, a distraction, she thinks, she knows - they all do that, men, they all do this - but the way Yongguk catches her bottom lip gently between her teeth feels like all that and an answer as well.
The first time, they decide to meet up for coffee. Jieun imagines it will be uniform, a standard first date, she’ll be sitting at the table as he walks (runs?) in, casual conversation over a table for two (will he drink decaf or black? or black decaf?) and if she doesn’t think they’ll get along, she can fall back on the fact that she needs to catch the three o’clock bus or else she’ll have to wait for another hour that she cannot afford to spend.
But he’s there, waiting outside the door when she comes running over because she missed the first train, and the coffee shop is packed, businessmen and other college students alike leeching off the wifi. “I’m sorry I couldn’t get here earlier and save us a spot,” he tells her as she’s trying to catch her breath, when she’s really the one who should be saying that.
She shakes her head. “We can go somewhere else,” she suggests without a concrete plan, without preconceived outcomes. He smiles at that, pink gums and even teeth a familiar phenomenon - like she’s seen this smile before, she definitely has, but the quiet hallway in the midst of a noisy club where they first met was too dark for her to know for sure.
“Yeah,” he says. “We can do that.” Jieun’s never been much for abandoning the original plan, but as she follows Yongguk on a seemingly random path of bus lines and metro stops, ending up in the midst of a bustling food court with patbingsoo to share as they people-watch, she thinks she might not mind the spontaneity as much as she thought she did.
He’s there, standing at the base of the stairs leading up to her apartment, hands on his knees, breathing ragged from the way she knows he ran all the way from the subway station. He’s there and it’s one in the morning but he came because Yongguk, it hurts, I’m so sorry, it hurts, and Jieun knows they’re falling apart because she could never keep it together, never was with someone so long that she had to, and she’s been pushing and pulling and challenging and selfish.
But he’s there and it’s one in the morning and she really needs him, she realizes, when she stands up from where she was sitting on the steps, stiffly, legs asleep. He just gathers her up into his arms and it could be gross, could be romantic, could be anything, really, but all she really thinks is that it’s Yongguk, so she holds him back, just as tight.
“I love you,” he says, like it is caught in his throat. “I love you so much, Jieun,” says it desperately, as if it is a plea that will save them both from all this when they’re already so far gone, fallen so far, that she’s terrified to look up or down because the distance from the ground or to the sky is sure to be too far for the eye to see.
Because,
You’re beautiful, he says, tries, to compartmentalize everything he feels about her into one word. He’s never been one to say much, Yongguk, she knows.
He’s holding her and he’s everywhere, kissing her hair, arms around her waist, chest against her ear, and she’s listening to his heart beat. He’s so careful, loves her so much, loves her too much, and she loves him too much too and it’s terrifying, really, terrifying -
(she loves him with the entirety of her being and it’s overwhelming because all she’s ever known is falling in love quietly from afar, getting closer and closer until you fall apart, until you fall out of love, and she’s tried, tried, but he says she’s beautiful like she means everything to him and she believes him, she fucking believes him and his cheesy confessions, his pounding heart in her ear. she’s never loved someone else like this before so she tries to run, tries to understand it, tries but it hurts, Yongguk, and he’s there, one in the morning, and he gathers her up into his arms like she belongs there because she does, she lets herself, she holds him back, and closes her eyes)
“because I love you."
1,379w; pg-13 (jieun/yongguk)
show me your heart.
a/n: for kirakirashahida! this probably should've been written forever ago, and i still owe you birthday fic, but small victories? lots of sappy cheesiness ahead, don't say i didn't warn you! inspired by this prompt ♥
“I think you’re terrifying.” Her tongue tastes rust as she licks the roof of her mouth, dry, like the words have just been sitting there, waiting for her to release them from her lips. She did. Her fingers loop together. She did.
And he laughs. He actually laughs, genuine, reaching-his-eyes and the base of his stomach laughter, like the truth is always so funny. It tickles her ears pleasantly, baritone, the kind of gravelly voice you want to wake you up in the morning and whisper you to sleep each night, and that, Jieun thinks, is maybe one of the reasons why he’s so terrifying.
His eyes soften when he notices the way her fingers are wringing the life out of each other. “Why?” he whispers and she swallows, just swallows, and breathes (out, in) and then there, that’s it, she’s lost all her reasons but the fear is still there, beating in her heart, one with her heart.
She thinks he’s somewhere in there too.
Because -
“Show me your heart,” she turns over onto her stomach, abandoning the book she has to finish by the end of the week on the bedside table. He’s to her right, on his back, on her mattress, eyes closed, eyebrows knitted. Sometimes she delves into the hypothetical, what-ifs, no rules, abstract concepts, has this tendency to do it a lot really (don’t say I didn’t warn you beforehand, Yongguk) but he never said he minded.
He cracks open an eye. Closes it again. Sighs, but he’s not aggravated, she can tell, he’s just - thinking. She taps her toes again the bed frame and lets him have his silence.
He reaches for her hand. It is warm, the pads of his fingers, his palm pressing against her own. He laces their fingers together almost lazily and then surrounds himself around her until her ear is against his chest and she can hear the beating of his heart.
It’s more than an answer. They don’t say anything, and when she closes her eyes, she can pretend that the world is just his heart, constantly beating, for her, for her, for her, is the lub-dub sound she says nothing about.
Yongguk’s smitten, Sunhwa texts her two days after Hyosung’s birthday party. Jieun sits up at the mention of the name and takes five minutes to decide on an appropriate response.
Oh? she texts back. Sunhwa replies almost immediately. God, you guys are so gross. Just call him already?
Don’t even try to pretend you’re nonchalant about this. A few seconds later and his number is challenging her through the screen of her phone.
Yongguk keeps telling her that she’s beautiful. It is not like Jieun has never heard such a compliment before, but compliments are just that - words, easy to twist and not sincerely meant. It has never settled well with her, constantly does the opposite - leaving her stomach in knots, the bad kind that make you think you may have indigestion - yet he keeps saying it and she keeps frowning.
“I know,” she snaps back one day when he says it again. He flinches and she suddenly regrets the harsh tone of her words. “I know,” she repeats, softer, trying to undo the damage, the naïve belief that damage can be undone. She’s had her heart broken too many times to know that that is never how the world works.
He smiles, almost apologetically, like she’s a child that he can’t bear to chastise. “I didn’t just mean your appearance, Jieun,” he says, the winter capturing the warmth of his breath in white tendrils.
“Then what?” she challenges, difficult. Yongguk puts his gloved hands against her cold-flushed cheeks and leans so close that she can feel his breath catch as he bends down to kiss her, an excuse, a distraction, she thinks, she knows - they all do that, men, they all do this - but the way Yongguk catches her bottom lip gently between her teeth feels like all that and an answer as well.
The first time, they decide to meet up for coffee. Jieun imagines it will be uniform, a standard first date, she’ll be sitting at the table as he walks (runs?) in, casual conversation over a table for two (will he drink decaf or black? or black decaf?) and if she doesn’t think they’ll get along, she can fall back on the fact that she needs to catch the three o’clock bus or else she’ll have to wait for another hour that she cannot afford to spend.
But he’s there, waiting outside the door when she comes running over because she missed the first train, and the coffee shop is packed, businessmen and other college students alike leeching off the wifi. “I’m sorry I couldn’t get here earlier and save us a spot,” he tells her as she’s trying to catch her breath, when she’s really the one who should be saying that.
She shakes her head. “We can go somewhere else,” she suggests without a concrete plan, without preconceived outcomes. He smiles at that, pink gums and even teeth a familiar phenomenon - like she’s seen this smile before, she definitely has, but the quiet hallway in the midst of a noisy club where they first met was too dark for her to know for sure.
“Yeah,” he says. “We can do that.” Jieun’s never been much for abandoning the original plan, but as she follows Yongguk on a seemingly random path of bus lines and metro stops, ending up in the midst of a bustling food court with patbingsoo to share as they people-watch, she thinks she might not mind the spontaneity as much as she thought she did.
He’s there, standing at the base of the stairs leading up to her apartment, hands on his knees, breathing ragged from the way she knows he ran all the way from the subway station. He’s there and it’s one in the morning but he came because Yongguk, it hurts, I’m so sorry, it hurts, and Jieun knows they’re falling apart because she could never keep it together, never was with someone so long that she had to, and she’s been pushing and pulling and challenging and selfish.
But he’s there and it’s one in the morning and she really needs him, she realizes, when she stands up from where she was sitting on the steps, stiffly, legs asleep. He just gathers her up into his arms and it could be gross, could be romantic, could be anything, really, but all she really thinks is that it’s Yongguk, so she holds him back, just as tight.
“I love you,” he says, like it is caught in his throat. “I love you so much, Jieun,” says it desperately, as if it is a plea that will save them both from all this when they’re already so far gone, fallen so far, that she’s terrified to look up or down because the distance from the ground or to the sky is sure to be too far for the eye to see.
Because,
You’re beautiful, he says, tries, to compartmentalize everything he feels about her into one word. He’s never been one to say much, Yongguk, she knows.
He’s holding her and he’s everywhere, kissing her hair, arms around her waist, chest against her ear, and she’s listening to his heart beat. He’s so careful, loves her so much, loves her too much, and she loves him too much too and it’s terrifying, really, terrifying -
(she loves him with the entirety of her being and it’s overwhelming because all she’s ever known is falling in love quietly from afar, getting closer and closer until you fall apart, until you fall out of love, and she’s tried, tried, but he says she’s beautiful like she means everything to him and she believes him, she fucking believes him and his cheesy confessions, his pounding heart in her ear. she’s never loved someone else like this before so she tries to run, tries to understand it, tries but it hurts, Yongguk, and he’s there, one in the morning, and he gathers her up into his arms like she belongs there because she does, she lets herself, she holds him back, and closes her eyes)
“because I love you."