Come Pick Me Up
“Sunyoung-ah!” Krystal’s voice causes Sunyoung to pull away from the receiver of her wireless phone. “You aren’t speaking again.”
“I’m typing is why.” Sunyoung explains irritatingly as she shoves her reading glasses back up her nose. She clips the phone in between her shoulder and her ear in order to make use of both her hands on the keyboard, Krystal’s article shining in front of her via her monitor.
“What have you changed so far?” Krystal sounds like she’s picking at her nails at the same time she speaks, the same way Sunyoung always pictured the socialite at school. Why the freshman even decided to join the school paper was still unresolved in Sunyoung’s understanding. She was told by her principal that it was for detention purposes but the girl barely gave in to such policies. Especially since the reason she was being punished in the first place was for setting the tree by the track and field of their school on fire. In Sunyoung’s opinion, Krystal should have been expelled instead and she did voice this out to their principal but he merely shrugged Sunyoung’s comment off, stating that their school was not one for harsh decisions like expulsion. They were that time that one kid set fire on the janitor’s closet, though. What was it with students and arson, seriously?
Now, Sunyoung, being one of the upper half students in the school in terms of ranking (just stare at the trophies and medals that she’s collected since grade school on her shelf) was not Krystal’s ideal friend or acquaintance. Stereotypical? Well, yes. Be that as it may, lines have been drawn and as far as Sunyoung is concerned she doesn’t mind them. She likes knowing where she stands.
Until recently when she was faced with a question regarding her high school life so far for her year book since she was in the graduating batch of 2011. The question read: I’ll always remember…
It was harmless. It didn’t even put much pressure on the process of coming up with an answer because it didn’t end with a question mark. It was less alarming. And it seemed easy enough to complete. But Sunyoung found herself at a loss with the question, reading and re reading it, dissecting every word until it started to make no sense.
What will she always remember? Study halls? Libraries? Aged and dusty books? Being a virgin for 17 years? Watching mean girls more than 20 times? Being a virgin for 17 years? Being second in the ranking of her school even when she felt lazy this year? Winning the math quiz bee for four years in a row? Being a motherfucking virgin for 17 goddamn years?
Thoughts like these were not of any importance to a girl of her upbringing; an only child with a promising future and studious, respectable parents who pissed class and shit excellence. She was golden. She had to make it. If she didn’t then what was the point of it all?
The point was a scholarship to Seoul University. It was the dream. The target. The only destination amongst the road blocks. She had sent in her application a month early and she remembered losing sleep over every detail that she wanted to include. And when she was satisfied of the amount of blood and sweat poured into five sheets of paper she mailed it and crossed her fingers.
“Sunyoung, what the fuck?”
“Done.” Sunyoung smiles into the phone and stretches in her seat. “I’m mailing it to Mrs. Park right now.”
“Don’t you think I should check it out first?”
Sunyoung rolls her eyes at the tone, standing from her seat and walking towards her window. “It’s fine, Krystal.”
There’s a sudden spurt of light spilling and glowing from the window across Sunyoung’s. The light colors the room and from where she’s standing she sees the side of the bed and the lamp from which the light shine from. Then shadows are dancing one or two, she wasn’t sure.
A boy with auburn hair, trimmed and cut down to his shoulders appears from the other side of the window, back to her. This is the part where Sunyoung is supposed to look away, where she isn’t supposed to glue her eyes to the curve of the boy’s back when he pulls his shirt off his shoulders, where she doesn’t notice the dimples above his belt or the milky complexion spread evenly all over-
His head spins around too quickly, catching Sunyoung with her eyes as round as saucers. Sunyoung releases a faint shriek, cupping her mouth before falling to the floor to fast it must have seemed that a hole had formed from under her feet. Sunyoung, on all fours on the ground, had wished something like that had happened. If it did then she would be dead. And that would relinquish every ounce of shame staining her cheeks.
She clutches her phone to her chest, forgetting about Krystal and shutting it off before crawling (soldier in a war style) over to the foot of her bed. Once fully on her stomach she reaches for her lampshade and shuts the light off but sleep comes much, much later.
~o~
Sunyoung thinks she should have seen it coming. Really, after having only thought about the beautifully curved back of the boy all night, it would only be right for him to manifest out of thin air and appear in front of homeroom, introducing himself as Lee Taemin, a transfer student. Of course. Of course.
And he just, just, just had to come in a few minutes after the bell rang, earning him to choose from the random vacant seats. And Sunyoung just had to be seated in the second row, the vacant seat beside her clear in Taemin’s eye.
So yeah, sure he would take that seat. It was the closest in his view and the one that took less squeezing, turning and excuse mes to get to. It was right there. Just like Sunyoung’s pink dusted cheeks. It was so there it couldn’t be more there.
Sunyoung ponders thoughts of being arrested for some reason, suddenly seeing her face in newspapers. She’d be dubbed as the window peeper, the seventeen year old virgin who also happened to be a pervert.
“Excuse me.”
Sunyoung all but jumps, the screech of her table not lost on the rest of the class as Taemin reaches a hanky out to her through the distance of their chairs. He blinks at her through the edged curtain of his bangs.
“Uhm.” Taemin tilts his head. “I think you dropped this.”
Sunyoung gawkily scoots her arm chair back, alarm being covered up by her nervous smile. She reaches for her floral hanky, cursing herself for picking this one in particular for this day because now it just added more to the details of her future arrest; she liked flowers.
“Thank you.” Sunyoung nods, returning quickly to her teacher in front who had cleared her throat twice.
From that brief encounter (something that Sunyoung wished to bring to her grave) she noticed Taemin’s wide set of eyes, brown pooled irises so round, his nose wasn’t completely pointed but it was the right shape, something that was perfect, positioned in the center of his face, his skin smooth to the eyes and probably to the touch… like his back… and those dimples and, oh, Jesus, Sunyoung get your shit together!
Of course. Of course he had to be cute as hell. He just had to be, didn’t he?
~o~
It was bad enough that Sunyoung forgot to pack barbecue flavored crackers this morning, instead grabbing the plain ones by mistake. It’s not like she didn’t purchase food at the cafeteria, it’s just that she liked her crackers and without it her meal would be slightly unfulfilled.
Just as she was cleaning her utensils with two pieces of tissue paper, the chair opposite hers across the expanse of the table is being dragged back and Sunyoung should’ve known it was Taemin. She should not have thought it was Krystal, ready to torture her by just sitting there and being pretty and having every boy in the room eye her with levels of prepubescent emotions that Sunyoung could never elicit.
Nonetheless, Taemin placed his tray on the table, water and two packs of crackers, one of which was barbecue flavored and Sunyoung’s mouth watered involuntarily, no longer focusing on the fact that Taemin, the boy who caught her sneaking a peek at his private show last night, was sitting in front of her. That is, until he speaks a quiet, polite, “Hi.” and Sunyoung’s eyes snap to his face and everything seems pleasant and alarming at the same time.
Taemin places his palm up, passing Sunyoung a stiff wave. Sunyong stares at his hand, brows knitted. The more the awkwardness progresses the more Taemin’s smirk tugged at his lips, tugged at Sunyoung’s mortification. She honestly never wanted to hide under a table more than she did at this very moment.
Sunyoung’s eyes suddenly drop back to the crackers, her reasons a cross between shame and craving.
Taemin’s fingers come into view over the pack of crackers and before Sunyoung can get into terms with what was happening Taemin’s handing her the pack. “D’you want this?”
“Oh, uhmm-“ Sunyoung’s shaking her head wildly, halting abruptly when Taemin rises from his seat to reach for Sunyoung’s hand over the table and place the crackers in her hand. Honestly, he could have just placed them on the tray. But if he did then he would not have to lean over and Sunyoung would not be granted a clear shot of his collar bones and the scent of his hair, all citrusy and fresh. “Thank you.”
“No problem.” Taemin twists the cap of his bottled water open. “I’m Taemin.” He holds his hand out and again, Sunyoung stares at it, still trying to get over the fact that Taemin just handed her a pack of her favorite crackers. In the first few seconds that passes by with just Sunyoung staring at Taemin’s open palm, Taemin finally loses it, falling into his seat, arms over his stomach as he belches out a mirthful laugh. “What’s the matter?” Taemin straightens in his seat, hands patting his fringe down. “Don’t recognize me with my clothes on?”
To this, Sunyoung drops the crackers on the tray, replacing the emptiness in her palms with her flushed face. “Oh my god!”
“Hey, hey, hey!” Taemin suddenly sounded panicked, one hand circling around Sunyoung’s wrist. “No, it’s okay. Hey. Are you crying?”
“No, I just.” Sunyoung drops her hands, palms flat on the surface of the table. “I don’t want to go to jail.”
“What?” Taemin’s smile is back on his lips, so threateningly soft, amused and adorable.
“I’m not a pervert. I swear. You were just. And the window. And the light. And I was on the phone. Then your back. And oh my god, your back dimples-“
“My what?”
“I won’t do it again. I’ll set blinds up my window and, like, two sets of curtains, I swear.”
“Calm down. You’re making me nervous.” Taemin places both his hands on Sunyoung’s and she has no fucking idea why he thinks that that is going to calm her down. Taemin breathes in deeply, exhales through his mouth, urging Sunyoung with his eyes to do the same.
They do that for about two minutes, breathing in and out, in and out and Sunyoung can finally feel her heart slowing down to a pace that doesn’t resemble the aftermath of her running for ten minutes straight. Taemin pulls his hands back and scoots his chair forward.
“Are you okay now?”
Sunyoung shrugs, continuing to breathe deeply.
“Okay, well. I just wanted to come over and tell you that you shouldn’t worry about it. Or that, you know, since we’re neighbors and all, we should forget about it.”
Sunyoung nods.
“Okay.” Taemin’s smile grows wider and Sunyoung breathes deeper. “So, yeah. Fresh start.” Taemin scratches the itch in his left temple, silence washing over them. They’re eyes wander about, on food, trays, edges of tables and people walking past until their stares finally link and Sunyoung finally smiles as if she isn’t hiding something. Taemin decides he likes her better that way. “Now, about my back dimples-ha, I’m totally kidding”
Taemin amends the moment Sunyoung’s eyes go round again.
~o~
Maybe seeing people naked before even meeting them puts you straight into their list of friends or something. That was how Sunyoung figures it went since a week into the first time Taemin and her started talking, like, actually talking. And soon, a week turned into two and now, Sunyoung can’t remember the last time she drew her curtains together.
At night when Sunyoung was flooded with homework and reading materials, Taemin would never know. Because by the time he comes home at around 10:00 pm from work Sunyoung would shove her things away, pretending to surf through the net instead, freeing her hair from her ponytail, her one attempt at flirty banter, failing for the most part, but she tries at least.
And when his head pokes out of the window, his wireless phone in his ear, and Sunyoung’s phone rings by her night stand, her heart skips more beats than it ever has, more than time she won the spelling bee in her third grade or the time she graduated top of her class right before high school rolled around. Taemin wasn’t one of the trophies on her shelves and vice versa. For one, she didn’t feel the urge to always try to hold her trophy’s hand. And she could win another one if she felt the need to do so. While Taemin was… well, he was Taemin.
“Hello?” Sunyoung sits by the foot of her bed, facing Taemin through their windows. Taemin was half seated on the ledge, one foot dangling into the open air. “How was work?”
“Tedious. Homework?”
“Done.”
“Of course.” Taemin says it almost like he’s proud. There are times in between the spaces of their conversation that Sunyoung thinks that this might be all a dream. Could it be possible that she was really speaking with the boy she would never dream of talking too had she seen him in a mall or never lived next to him. “So, uh. Can I ask you something?”
“Anything-“ Sunyoung whispers dreamily, adjusting herself and her glasses as Taemin questions her, luckily not having heard her embarrassing desperation. “I said, yeah, sure.”
“D’you know that girl Krystal?”
Sunyoung’s mind goes blank for a brief moment before Krystal pops into her head, somehow in slow motion, running on a beach in a skimpy bikini, the wind lightly tossing her hair here and there.
“You know.” Taemin urges, mistaking Sunyoung hesitance for misunderstanding. “Tall girl, wavy hair, struts around school as if everything she walks on is a runway?”
“Yeah, yeah.” Sunyoung nods. “I know her.”
“Do you happen to have her number?”
Her number. Her number. Her-Again, Sunyoung should have known. Really, she should have. She should have known that he would have preferred these late night phone calls with Krystal as opposed to her with her glasses and oversized shirts. “Yeah, uhm. Should I get it for you?” Sunyoung’s already reaching for her cellphone.
“Yeah, that’d be great, thanks.” Taemin exhales and through the windows she can spot Taemin’s relieved smile.
Sunyoung passes him the number and continues to indulge in a bit of their usual conversation. But every time she sees him laugh through the window she keeps thinking about Krystal and wondering whether she could make him laugh just the same or if it even mattered. With that as a last thought she coughed out an excuse about homework (which was true) and other things that she couldn’t really remember or understand through her babbling. She hangs up the phone, drawing the curtains for the first time in a while.
~o~
Prom in 3 days
The letters of the banner stare down at Sunyoung, ridiculing her in her dateless state. She presses through the corridor, hands on her backpack. As she rounds the corner she catches a glimpse of Taemin.
And Krystal.
And just as Sunyoung expected, or no… should have known. Taemin was smiling with her, hands in his pockets as Krystal leaned her slender frame against the lockers, too amused by what Taemin was saying to look at anything or anyone else, completely ignoring the girl who was trying to get around her to her locker.
Sunyoung stares with pieces of her shattered heart spilling through her eyes and just as she was backing away Taemin sees her and their eyes meet and Sunyoung panics as if the world is about to end and a tidal wave was after her.
She ran. Sprinted. Jogged. In a direction where her classroom was not, caring very little (for the first time in her life) about her attendance. She hears Taemin’s sneakers squeaking against the floor. She runs to the first ladies room she sees and surprises three girls touching up by the mirrors stretched over the sink.
Taemin was never one for the rules. She should’ve known her plan was not full proof. None of her plans were with Taemin.
When Taemin bursts into the ladies room the three girls shriek, gather their things and glare at him, leading themselves out as Taemin bows apologetically to each girl. Sunyoung spots a vacant stall and just as she was about to run for cover Taemin holds her back by her wrist.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m gonna take a piss, what does it look like I’m doing?” Sunyoung scoffs, shoving Taemin away with weak hands. “Just go away, okay. Krystal might come looking for you.”
“I fucking knew it! That’s what this is about, isn’t it? You haven’t spoken to me in days because I asked for her number and you didn’t even try to understand what was going on. And here I thought you were the smart one.”
“I am the smart one!” Sunyoung, practically shouts it at the tops of her lungs, voice cracking. Regardless of her intellectual capabilities, she had to admit, that was not one of her best retorts. It wasn’t even really a retort, per se, it was just her stating a fact in a declarative manner.
“Then ask me.”
“What?” Sunyoung sniffs.
“Go ahead. Ask me about Krystal.”
Sunyoung straightens her backpack, avoiding Taemin’s challenge.
“Ask me.”
Sunyoung shrugs, accepting defeat. “Do you like her?”
“No.” Taemin says without a second thought, arms crossed over his chest.
Sunyoung considers him though furrowed brows. “But you asked for her number-“
“For Minho.”
“Who?”
“Minho. The varsity player, long legs, conceited and runs around screaming goal every time he makes a three point shot during basketball.”
“You. Asked. For. Oh.”
“Yeah.” Taemin nods carefully, a crooked smile playing on his lips.
“So.” Sunyoung rubs her nose. “You don’t like her. At all?”
Taemin rolls his eyes. “They could have ostriches for babies for all I care.”
“Huh?”
“You know, coz of the long legs.”
“Maybe you’re thinking of a giraffe?”
“Long necks? What? No. Just. Fuck it. I don’t like her. No. Okay?”
Sunyoung nods, ears tinged red when Taemin’s hands curl around the sides of her shoulders.
He takes a few steps closer, distance diminishing after one, two, three steps forward and soon, one of Taemin’s hands skirt over her shoulder, towards the side of her face, tugging her glasses off and cupping her red stained cheeks with the same hand.
“Oh.” Sunyoung says again, realization dawning on her like a ton of bricks. She finally knows what it’s like to have butterflies fluttering in the pit of her stomach from something as simple as grazes of hands on skin and it’s wonderful, Sunyoung decides, leaning into Taemin’s touch with her eyes closed.
Her eyes remain closed when Taemin’s lips brush against hers, so soft and beautiful it had to be a sin of sorts. Her hands find movement, running through the planes of his chest, ending somewhere along the hem of his shirt and gripping the fabric for balance, because somehow his kiss made all her joints malfunction.
And that was probably the one thing that she would have never known.
~o~
The following events was a blur of Sunyoung’s smiles and Taemin almost losing his grip on the trees separating their windows in order to climb into Sunyoung’s just so they could lie in bed together and exchange warmth with breaths and touches and offered kisses.
By Friday Sunyoung falls into a shrill scream when her locker burst open the moment she turns her combination in. The door comes flying and out of it spills packs upon packs of barbecue flavored crackers, pooling around her feet. The students walking past her stop and stare and Sunyoung, for once, doesn’t mind the attention. Especially when she reads the words go to prom with me? painted in blue on the back of her locker door.
And as Minho and Krystal won prom king and prom queen inside the banquet hall of the Diamond hotel, Taemin and Sunyoung were perfectly content, slow dancing to songs in their heads, somewhere in the patio.
Taemin pulls away, tucking strands of Sungyoung’s hair behind her ear. She finally decided to put on the contact lenses her mother told her to wear for prom, but Taemin said he liked her either way.
“What are you thinking about?” Taemin asks as he leans in, their noses brushing.
Sunyoung smiles through her honesty, feeling more of a pervert than ever before. “Your back dimples.”
MasterFicList
► old | ► new
♠tumblr | ♠ add me?
-- just finished writing this after my last fic. I WROTE ANOTHER
HET FIC LOLMEOHME! ehem, i hope you like it. it's 7 am and
sleep just is not agreeing with me. also, i think that this is a good
balance to the prior ontae,2min angst, yes?
also, if you can't already tell, this was loosely inspired by THE GIRL
NEXT DOOR.
been typing all night my fingers are actually tingling with like
electricity or something. :\
“I’m typing is why.” Sunyoung explains irritatingly as she shoves her reading glasses back up her nose. She clips the phone in between her shoulder and her ear in order to make use of both her hands on the keyboard, Krystal’s article shining in front of her via her monitor.
“What have you changed so far?” Krystal sounds like she’s picking at her nails at the same time she speaks, the same way Sunyoung always pictured the socialite at school. Why the freshman even decided to join the school paper was still unresolved in Sunyoung’s understanding. She was told by her principal that it was for detention purposes but the girl barely gave in to such policies. Especially since the reason she was being punished in the first place was for setting the tree by the track and field of their school on fire. In Sunyoung’s opinion, Krystal should have been expelled instead and she did voice this out to their principal but he merely shrugged Sunyoung’s comment off, stating that their school was not one for harsh decisions like expulsion. They were that time that one kid set fire on the janitor’s closet, though. What was it with students and arson, seriously?
Now, Sunyoung, being one of the upper half students in the school in terms of ranking (just stare at the trophies and medals that she’s collected since grade school on her shelf) was not Krystal’s ideal friend or acquaintance. Stereotypical? Well, yes. Be that as it may, lines have been drawn and as far as Sunyoung is concerned she doesn’t mind them. She likes knowing where she stands.
Until recently when she was faced with a question regarding her high school life so far for her year book since she was in the graduating batch of 2011. The question read: I’ll always remember…
It was harmless. It didn’t even put much pressure on the process of coming up with an answer because it didn’t end with a question mark. It was less alarming. And it seemed easy enough to complete. But Sunyoung found herself at a loss with the question, reading and re reading it, dissecting every word until it started to make no sense.
What will she always remember? Study halls? Libraries? Aged and dusty books? Being a virgin for 17 years? Watching mean girls more than 20 times? Being a virgin for 17 years? Being second in the ranking of her school even when she felt lazy this year? Winning the math quiz bee for four years in a row? Being a motherfucking virgin for 17 goddamn years?
Thoughts like these were not of any importance to a girl of her upbringing; an only child with a promising future and studious, respectable parents who pissed class and shit excellence. She was golden. She had to make it. If she didn’t then what was the point of it all?
The point was a scholarship to Seoul University. It was the dream. The target. The only destination amongst the road blocks. She had sent in her application a month early and she remembered losing sleep over every detail that she wanted to include. And when she was satisfied of the amount of blood and sweat poured into five sheets of paper she mailed it and crossed her fingers.
“Sunyoung, what the fuck?”
“Done.” Sunyoung smiles into the phone and stretches in her seat. “I’m mailing it to Mrs. Park right now.”
“Don’t you think I should check it out first?”
Sunyoung rolls her eyes at the tone, standing from her seat and walking towards her window. “It’s fine, Krystal.”
There’s a sudden spurt of light spilling and glowing from the window across Sunyoung’s. The light colors the room and from where she’s standing she sees the side of the bed and the lamp from which the light shine from. Then shadows are dancing one or two, she wasn’t sure.
A boy with auburn hair, trimmed and cut down to his shoulders appears from the other side of the window, back to her. This is the part where Sunyoung is supposed to look away, where she isn’t supposed to glue her eyes to the curve of the boy’s back when he pulls his shirt off his shoulders, where she doesn’t notice the dimples above his belt or the milky complexion spread evenly all over-
His head spins around too quickly, catching Sunyoung with her eyes as round as saucers. Sunyoung releases a faint shriek, cupping her mouth before falling to the floor to fast it must have seemed that a hole had formed from under her feet. Sunyoung, on all fours on the ground, had wished something like that had happened. If it did then she would be dead. And that would relinquish every ounce of shame staining her cheeks.
She clutches her phone to her chest, forgetting about Krystal and shutting it off before crawling (soldier in a war style) over to the foot of her bed. Once fully on her stomach she reaches for her lampshade and shuts the light off but sleep comes much, much later.
~o~
Sunyoung thinks she should have seen it coming. Really, after having only thought about the beautifully curved back of the boy all night, it would only be right for him to manifest out of thin air and appear in front of homeroom, introducing himself as Lee Taemin, a transfer student. Of course. Of course.
And he just, just, just had to come in a few minutes after the bell rang, earning him to choose from the random vacant seats. And Sunyoung just had to be seated in the second row, the vacant seat beside her clear in Taemin’s eye.
So yeah, sure he would take that seat. It was the closest in his view and the one that took less squeezing, turning and excuse mes to get to. It was right there. Just like Sunyoung’s pink dusted cheeks. It was so there it couldn’t be more there.
Sunyoung ponders thoughts of being arrested for some reason, suddenly seeing her face in newspapers. She’d be dubbed as the window peeper, the seventeen year old virgin who also happened to be a pervert.
“Excuse me.”
Sunyoung all but jumps, the screech of her table not lost on the rest of the class as Taemin reaches a hanky out to her through the distance of their chairs. He blinks at her through the edged curtain of his bangs.
“Uhm.” Taemin tilts his head. “I think you dropped this.”
Sunyoung gawkily scoots her arm chair back, alarm being covered up by her nervous smile. She reaches for her floral hanky, cursing herself for picking this one in particular for this day because now it just added more to the details of her future arrest; she liked flowers.
“Thank you.” Sunyoung nods, returning quickly to her teacher in front who had cleared her throat twice.
From that brief encounter (something that Sunyoung wished to bring to her grave) she noticed Taemin’s wide set of eyes, brown pooled irises so round, his nose wasn’t completely pointed but it was the right shape, something that was perfect, positioned in the center of his face, his skin smooth to the eyes and probably to the touch… like his back… and those dimples and, oh, Jesus, Sunyoung get your shit together!
Of course. Of course he had to be cute as hell. He just had to be, didn’t he?
~o~
It was bad enough that Sunyoung forgot to pack barbecue flavored crackers this morning, instead grabbing the plain ones by mistake. It’s not like she didn’t purchase food at the cafeteria, it’s just that she liked her crackers and without it her meal would be slightly unfulfilled.
Just as she was cleaning her utensils with two pieces of tissue paper, the chair opposite hers across the expanse of the table is being dragged back and Sunyoung should’ve known it was Taemin. She should not have thought it was Krystal, ready to torture her by just sitting there and being pretty and having every boy in the room eye her with levels of prepubescent emotions that Sunyoung could never elicit.
Nonetheless, Taemin placed his tray on the table, water and two packs of crackers, one of which was barbecue flavored and Sunyoung’s mouth watered involuntarily, no longer focusing on the fact that Taemin, the boy who caught her sneaking a peek at his private show last night, was sitting in front of her. That is, until he speaks a quiet, polite, “Hi.” and Sunyoung’s eyes snap to his face and everything seems pleasant and alarming at the same time.
Taemin places his palm up, passing Sunyoung a stiff wave. Sunyong stares at his hand, brows knitted. The more the awkwardness progresses the more Taemin’s smirk tugged at his lips, tugged at Sunyoung’s mortification. She honestly never wanted to hide under a table more than she did at this very moment.
Sunyoung’s eyes suddenly drop back to the crackers, her reasons a cross between shame and craving.
Taemin’s fingers come into view over the pack of crackers and before Sunyoung can get into terms with what was happening Taemin’s handing her the pack. “D’you want this?”
“Oh, uhmm-“ Sunyoung’s shaking her head wildly, halting abruptly when Taemin rises from his seat to reach for Sunyoung’s hand over the table and place the crackers in her hand. Honestly, he could have just placed them on the tray. But if he did then he would not have to lean over and Sunyoung would not be granted a clear shot of his collar bones and the scent of his hair, all citrusy and fresh. “Thank you.”
“No problem.” Taemin twists the cap of his bottled water open. “I’m Taemin.” He holds his hand out and again, Sunyoung stares at it, still trying to get over the fact that Taemin just handed her a pack of her favorite crackers. In the first few seconds that passes by with just Sunyoung staring at Taemin’s open palm, Taemin finally loses it, falling into his seat, arms over his stomach as he belches out a mirthful laugh. “What’s the matter?” Taemin straightens in his seat, hands patting his fringe down. “Don’t recognize me with my clothes on?”
To this, Sunyoung drops the crackers on the tray, replacing the emptiness in her palms with her flushed face. “Oh my god!”
“Hey, hey, hey!” Taemin suddenly sounded panicked, one hand circling around Sunyoung’s wrist. “No, it’s okay. Hey. Are you crying?”
“No, I just.” Sunyoung drops her hands, palms flat on the surface of the table. “I don’t want to go to jail.”
“What?” Taemin’s smile is back on his lips, so threateningly soft, amused and adorable.
“I’m not a pervert. I swear. You were just. And the window. And the light. And I was on the phone. Then your back. And oh my god, your back dimples-“
“My what?”
“I won’t do it again. I’ll set blinds up my window and, like, two sets of curtains, I swear.”
“Calm down. You’re making me nervous.” Taemin places both his hands on Sunyoung’s and she has no fucking idea why he thinks that that is going to calm her down. Taemin breathes in deeply, exhales through his mouth, urging Sunyoung with his eyes to do the same.
They do that for about two minutes, breathing in and out, in and out and Sunyoung can finally feel her heart slowing down to a pace that doesn’t resemble the aftermath of her running for ten minutes straight. Taemin pulls his hands back and scoots his chair forward.
“Are you okay now?”
Sunyoung shrugs, continuing to breathe deeply.
“Okay, well. I just wanted to come over and tell you that you shouldn’t worry about it. Or that, you know, since we’re neighbors and all, we should forget about it.”
Sunyoung nods.
“Okay.” Taemin’s smile grows wider and Sunyoung breathes deeper. “So, yeah. Fresh start.” Taemin scratches the itch in his left temple, silence washing over them. They’re eyes wander about, on food, trays, edges of tables and people walking past until their stares finally link and Sunyoung finally smiles as if she isn’t hiding something. Taemin decides he likes her better that way. “Now, about my back dimples-ha, I’m totally kidding”
Taemin amends the moment Sunyoung’s eyes go round again.
~o~
Maybe seeing people naked before even meeting them puts you straight into their list of friends or something. That was how Sunyoung figures it went since a week into the first time Taemin and her started talking, like, actually talking. And soon, a week turned into two and now, Sunyoung can’t remember the last time she drew her curtains together.
At night when Sunyoung was flooded with homework and reading materials, Taemin would never know. Because by the time he comes home at around 10:00 pm from work Sunyoung would shove her things away, pretending to surf through the net instead, freeing her hair from her ponytail, her one attempt at flirty banter, failing for the most part, but she tries at least.
And when his head pokes out of the window, his wireless phone in his ear, and Sunyoung’s phone rings by her night stand, her heart skips more beats than it ever has, more than time she won the spelling bee in her third grade or the time she graduated top of her class right before high school rolled around. Taemin wasn’t one of the trophies on her shelves and vice versa. For one, she didn’t feel the urge to always try to hold her trophy’s hand. And she could win another one if she felt the need to do so. While Taemin was… well, he was Taemin.
“Hello?” Sunyoung sits by the foot of her bed, facing Taemin through their windows. Taemin was half seated on the ledge, one foot dangling into the open air. “How was work?”
“Tedious. Homework?”
“Done.”
“Of course.” Taemin says it almost like he’s proud. There are times in between the spaces of their conversation that Sunyoung thinks that this might be all a dream. Could it be possible that she was really speaking with the boy she would never dream of talking too had she seen him in a mall or never lived next to him. “So, uh. Can I ask you something?”
“Anything-“ Sunyoung whispers dreamily, adjusting herself and her glasses as Taemin questions her, luckily not having heard her embarrassing desperation. “I said, yeah, sure.”
“D’you know that girl Krystal?”
Sunyoung’s mind goes blank for a brief moment before Krystal pops into her head, somehow in slow motion, running on a beach in a skimpy bikini, the wind lightly tossing her hair here and there.
“You know.” Taemin urges, mistaking Sunyoung hesitance for misunderstanding. “Tall girl, wavy hair, struts around school as if everything she walks on is a runway?”
“Yeah, yeah.” Sunyoung nods. “I know her.”
“Do you happen to have her number?”
Her number. Her number. Her-Again, Sunyoung should have known. Really, she should have. She should have known that he would have preferred these late night phone calls with Krystal as opposed to her with her glasses and oversized shirts. “Yeah, uhm. Should I get it for you?” Sunyoung’s already reaching for her cellphone.
“Yeah, that’d be great, thanks.” Taemin exhales and through the windows she can spot Taemin’s relieved smile.
Sunyoung passes him the number and continues to indulge in a bit of their usual conversation. But every time she sees him laugh through the window she keeps thinking about Krystal and wondering whether she could make him laugh just the same or if it even mattered. With that as a last thought she coughed out an excuse about homework (which was true) and other things that she couldn’t really remember or understand through her babbling. She hangs up the phone, drawing the curtains for the first time in a while.
~o~
Prom in 3 days
The letters of the banner stare down at Sunyoung, ridiculing her in her dateless state. She presses through the corridor, hands on her backpack. As she rounds the corner she catches a glimpse of Taemin.
And Krystal.
And just as Sunyoung expected, or no… should have known. Taemin was smiling with her, hands in his pockets as Krystal leaned her slender frame against the lockers, too amused by what Taemin was saying to look at anything or anyone else, completely ignoring the girl who was trying to get around her to her locker.
Sunyoung stares with pieces of her shattered heart spilling through her eyes and just as she was backing away Taemin sees her and their eyes meet and Sunyoung panics as if the world is about to end and a tidal wave was after her.
She ran. Sprinted. Jogged. In a direction where her classroom was not, caring very little (for the first time in her life) about her attendance. She hears Taemin’s sneakers squeaking against the floor. She runs to the first ladies room she sees and surprises three girls touching up by the mirrors stretched over the sink.
Taemin was never one for the rules. She should’ve known her plan was not full proof. None of her plans were with Taemin.
When Taemin bursts into the ladies room the three girls shriek, gather their things and glare at him, leading themselves out as Taemin bows apologetically to each girl. Sunyoung spots a vacant stall and just as she was about to run for cover Taemin holds her back by her wrist.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m gonna take a piss, what does it look like I’m doing?” Sunyoung scoffs, shoving Taemin away with weak hands. “Just go away, okay. Krystal might come looking for you.”
“I fucking knew it! That’s what this is about, isn’t it? You haven’t spoken to me in days because I asked for her number and you didn’t even try to understand what was going on. And here I thought you were the smart one.”
“I am the smart one!” Sunyoung, practically shouts it at the tops of her lungs, voice cracking. Regardless of her intellectual capabilities, she had to admit, that was not one of her best retorts. It wasn’t even really a retort, per se, it was just her stating a fact in a declarative manner.
“Then ask me.”
“What?” Sunyoung sniffs.
“Go ahead. Ask me about Krystal.”
Sunyoung straightens her backpack, avoiding Taemin’s challenge.
“Ask me.”
Sunyoung shrugs, accepting defeat. “Do you like her?”
“No.” Taemin says without a second thought, arms crossed over his chest.
Sunyoung considers him though furrowed brows. “But you asked for her number-“
“For Minho.”
“Who?”
“Minho. The varsity player, long legs, conceited and runs around screaming goal every time he makes a three point shot during basketball.”
“You. Asked. For. Oh.”
“Yeah.” Taemin nods carefully, a crooked smile playing on his lips.
“So.” Sunyoung rubs her nose. “You don’t like her. At all?”
Taemin rolls his eyes. “They could have ostriches for babies for all I care.”
“Huh?”
“You know, coz of the long legs.”
“Maybe you’re thinking of a giraffe?”
“Long necks? What? No. Just. Fuck it. I don’t like her. No. Okay?”
Sunyoung nods, ears tinged red when Taemin’s hands curl around the sides of her shoulders.
He takes a few steps closer, distance diminishing after one, two, three steps forward and soon, one of Taemin’s hands skirt over her shoulder, towards the side of her face, tugging her glasses off and cupping her red stained cheeks with the same hand.
“Oh.” Sunyoung says again, realization dawning on her like a ton of bricks. She finally knows what it’s like to have butterflies fluttering in the pit of her stomach from something as simple as grazes of hands on skin and it’s wonderful, Sunyoung decides, leaning into Taemin’s touch with her eyes closed.
Her eyes remain closed when Taemin’s lips brush against hers, so soft and beautiful it had to be a sin of sorts. Her hands find movement, running through the planes of his chest, ending somewhere along the hem of his shirt and gripping the fabric for balance, because somehow his kiss made all her joints malfunction.
And that was probably the one thing that she would have never known.
~o~
The following events was a blur of Sunyoung’s smiles and Taemin almost losing his grip on the trees separating their windows in order to climb into Sunyoung’s just so they could lie in bed together and exchange warmth with breaths and touches and offered kisses.
By Friday Sunyoung falls into a shrill scream when her locker burst open the moment she turns her combination in. The door comes flying and out of it spills packs upon packs of barbecue flavored crackers, pooling around her feet. The students walking past her stop and stare and Sunyoung, for once, doesn’t mind the attention. Especially when she reads the words go to prom with me? painted in blue on the back of her locker door.
And as Minho and Krystal won prom king and prom queen inside the banquet hall of the Diamond hotel, Taemin and Sunyoung were perfectly content, slow dancing to songs in their heads, somewhere in the patio.
Taemin pulls away, tucking strands of Sungyoung’s hair behind her ear. She finally decided to put on the contact lenses her mother told her to wear for prom, but Taemin said he liked her either way.
“What are you thinking about?” Taemin asks as he leans in, their noses brushing.
Sunyoung smiles through her honesty, feeling more of a pervert than ever before. “Your back dimples.”
MasterFicList
► old | ► new
♠tumblr | ♠ add me?
-- just finished writing this after my last fic. I WROTE ANOTHER
HET FIC LOLMEOHME! ehem, i hope you like it. it's 7 am and
sleep just is not agreeing with me. also, i think that this is a good
balance to the prior ontae,2min angst, yes?
also, if you can't already tell, this was loosely inspired by THE GIRL
NEXT DOOR.
been typing all night my fingers are actually tingling with like
electricity or something. :\