hwaat
The Secret Caller
Author: sacla
Category: [Boys Over Flowers]; Romance comedy
Rating: PG
Pairing: SoEul
Notes: I missed the deadline for the contest because writing Yi Jung makes my head ache He's too perfect. So forgive me if its OOC. Oh well, I didn't like this as much either so less pressure. :D I wanted this as a parallel to Letter Maker but it turned into... something else. Oh Fail
Summary: Yi Jung wants to understand. He needs to understand, or he'll go crazy. He does the next worst thing, ask Woobin for help.
Yi Jung thinks he's gone crazy. Either that or he's in love. And he'd rather be crazy.
“Why don’t you just call?” Woobin says. “Use your killers lines if you have to. Save both yourselves from the misery.” Woobin has no clue about the complexity of innocent admiration. The weight each spoken word could carry, the condemnation unspoken phrases could bring and the power of actions to mislead someone into finding meaning in an insignificant deed. Woobin wouldn't understand, and neither could Yi Jung.
"You're not helping."
"That's because I'm not Ga Eul. Talk to her yourself."
He tries, he can’t. There was a time wherein he believed that calling a woman first was a sign of yielding. A proof of her power over you. He wonders when the world turned upside down, and he allowed himself to be caught in her spell.
The first time he tries, he hangs up before it rings.
“I heard she’s going to teach in a preschool,”
“Really? What school?”
“Don’t worry, I checked. No handsome male teachers in the vicinity.”
“I didn’t ask you that.”
“But you’ll be curious about the gorgeous principal though.”
“Huh? Who’s he? Any good?”
“I never said she was a 'he'.”
Sometimes, he imagines himself before he met her. The Casanova surrounded by different kinds of women: blonde, brunette, Asian or Western, similar only in their perfect curves and flawless faces. Giggling at his every word, shivering at his every touch, and melting at his every smile.
Suddenly, Yi Jung imagines her. With flowing ebony locks, smooth creamy skin, dazzling chocolate eyes, even that adorable heart shaped-butt. Smiling like sunshine with a single man. Laughing at his jokes, cuddling to his arms, and gazing into his eyes.
Yi Jung decides, he’d stop imagining too much. He'd focus his mind on pottery.
'Pottery, focus on pottery,' he almost chants to himself.
He tries, he can't.
He dials her number for the second time, and he hangs up after the third ring.
“I called her for you.”
“You shouldn’t have.”
“She seemed pleased.”
“I’m not you.”
“But I’ll be the closest she can get, if not you.”
“Bastard.”
“She said the same thing too.”
Ga Eul has such a way with words, Yi jung thinks. Her bluntness annoyed and amused him. Her convictions irritated him. Her innocent beliefs fascinated him. She was a puzzle he couldn’t piece together.
He often wondered what her words meant. She said things with honesty, but he felt each word was burdened with so much faith, he often thought he’d choke. She was a puzzle he wished he never started.
It frustrates him, this weakness. This inability to understand. This need to understand. He wants to ask her. He wants to talk to her, to clear his thoughts. But more importantly, he felt the vague need to hear her voice.
The 20th time he dials, somebody picks up.
"Annyeong?"
"SO YI JUNG!"
"Geum Jan Di?"
"What are you doing? Why are you calling only now?"
"That is..."
"Call her tomorrow."
"Eh? But-"
"She left her phone with me, I can only drop it off tomorrow."
"I see."
"You're late you know."
"I... know."
Tomorrow he fulfills his promise.
He doesn’t know what he could say, to make up for lost time. He doesn’t know if she would cry or smile upon seeing his face. Would she hug him in an embrace or just slap him and walk away. Once upon a time, he thought he had her all figured out. Once, he believed soul mates were for fools who lived away from reality.
'What have you done to me?'
Once. He wanted to hear her voice at least once. Somehow, he knew he'd know the answer once he heard her.
The last time he tried calling her, he didn't even need to dial his phone.
"Sunbae?"
"G-Ga Eul yang?!"
"I'm sorry... I called. Are you busy?"
"That is... Why are you using Woobin's phone?"
"He lent it to me and told me to call you."
"He did?"
"Yes, he said its your birthday."
"Don't believe in everything he says."
"I know, but I still called anyway."
Yi Jung wanted to laugh. He didn't know if it was because of Woobin's tactless lie or of Ga Eul's ability to see through him. In honesty, he wanted to laugh at himself for acting like a boy afraid to make the first move.
He never fully grasped the reason why he said those words before he left. Couldn't understand why she affected him the way no woman, not even Eun Jae, could. Maybe, just maybe after letting her sink into his head, he understands a little better now.
Four years spent to become a better man and all he needed to do was to regress into an adolescent.
"I'm sorry I didn't call."
"Well, you never did say you would."
"Did you miss me?"
"I... Its a secret."
"You keep secrets now?"
"Only because you have more. Woobin sunbae said you did."
"What else has he been telling you?"
"That I shouldn't worry about the prank caller who kept ringing my phone. He said he'll take care of it."
"How, nice of him."
"Well, he said he'd bring that person in front of me to apologize, but he hasn't done that yet."
"He's halfway there then."
"Eh?"
Yi Jung thinks, Woobin might not understand the complexity of innocent admiration, but he must have guessed it wasn't that to begin with. (He'd thank Woobin by not killing him.)
'You're crazy,' his bestfriend once told him. 'I'm probably in love,' Yi Jung says in his head. It scares him, but not as much as knowing she wouldn't be his.
Author: sacla
Category: [Boys Over Flowers]; Romance comedy
Rating: PG
Pairing: SoEul
Notes: I missed the deadline for the contest because writing Yi Jung makes my head ache He's too perfect. So forgive me if its OOC. Oh well, I didn't like this as much either so less pressure. :D I wanted this as a parallel to Letter Maker but it turned into... something else. Oh Fail
Summary: Yi Jung wants to understand. He needs to understand, or he'll go crazy. He does the next worst thing, ask Woobin for help.
Yi Jung thinks he's gone crazy. Either that or he's in love. And he'd rather be crazy.
“Why don’t you just call?” Woobin says. “Use your killers lines if you have to. Save both yourselves from the misery.” Woobin has no clue about the complexity of innocent admiration. The weight each spoken word could carry, the condemnation unspoken phrases could bring and the power of actions to mislead someone into finding meaning in an insignificant deed. Woobin wouldn't understand, and neither could Yi Jung.
"You're not helping."
"That's because I'm not Ga Eul. Talk to her yourself."
He tries, he can’t. There was a time wherein he believed that calling a woman first was a sign of yielding. A proof of her power over you. He wonders when the world turned upside down, and he allowed himself to be caught in her spell.
The first time he tries, he hangs up before it rings.
“I heard she’s going to teach in a preschool,”
“Really? What school?”
“Don’t worry, I checked. No handsome male teachers in the vicinity.”
“I didn’t ask you that.”
“But you’ll be curious about the gorgeous principal though.”
“Huh? Who’s he? Any good?”
“I never said she was a 'he'.”
Sometimes, he imagines himself before he met her. The Casanova surrounded by different kinds of women: blonde, brunette, Asian or Western, similar only in their perfect curves and flawless faces. Giggling at his every word, shivering at his every touch, and melting at his every smile.
Suddenly, Yi Jung imagines her. With flowing ebony locks, smooth creamy skin, dazzling chocolate eyes, even that adorable heart shaped-butt. Smiling like sunshine with a single man. Laughing at his jokes, cuddling to his arms, and gazing into his eyes.
Yi Jung decides, he’d stop imagining too much. He'd focus his mind on pottery.
'Pottery, focus on pottery,' he almost chants to himself.
He tries, he can't.
He dials her number for the second time, and he hangs up after the third ring.
“I called her for you.”
“You shouldn’t have.”
“She seemed pleased.”
“I’m not you.”
“But I’ll be the closest she can get, if not you.”
“Bastard.”
“She said the same thing too.”
Ga Eul has such a way with words, Yi jung thinks. Her bluntness annoyed and amused him. Her convictions irritated him. Her innocent beliefs fascinated him. She was a puzzle he couldn’t piece together.
He often wondered what her words meant. She said things with honesty, but he felt each word was burdened with so much faith, he often thought he’d choke. She was a puzzle he wished he never started.
It frustrates him, this weakness. This inability to understand. This need to understand. He wants to ask her. He wants to talk to her, to clear his thoughts. But more importantly, he felt the vague need to hear her voice.
The 20th time he dials, somebody picks up.
"Annyeong?"
"SO YI JUNG!"
"Geum Jan Di?"
"What are you doing? Why are you calling only now?"
"That is..."
"Call her tomorrow."
"Eh? But-"
"She left her phone with me, I can only drop it off tomorrow."
"I see."
"You're late you know."
"I... know."
Tomorrow he fulfills his promise.
He doesn’t know what he could say, to make up for lost time. He doesn’t know if she would cry or smile upon seeing his face. Would she hug him in an embrace or just slap him and walk away. Once upon a time, he thought he had her all figured out. Once, he believed soul mates were for fools who lived away from reality.
'What have you done to me?'
Once. He wanted to hear her voice at least once. Somehow, he knew he'd know the answer once he heard her.
The last time he tried calling her, he didn't even need to dial his phone.
"Sunbae?"
"G-Ga Eul yang?!"
"I'm sorry... I called. Are you busy?"
"That is... Why are you using Woobin's phone?"
"He lent it to me and told me to call you."
"He did?"
"Yes, he said its your birthday."
"Don't believe in everything he says."
"I know, but I still called anyway."
Yi Jung wanted to laugh. He didn't know if it was because of Woobin's tactless lie or of Ga Eul's ability to see through him. In honesty, he wanted to laugh at himself for acting like a boy afraid to make the first move.
He never fully grasped the reason why he said those words before he left. Couldn't understand why she affected him the way no woman, not even Eun Jae, could. Maybe, just maybe after letting her sink into his head, he understands a little better now.
Four years spent to become a better man and all he needed to do was to regress into an adolescent.
"I'm sorry I didn't call."
"Well, you never did say you would."
"Did you miss me?"
"I... Its a secret."
"You keep secrets now?"
"Only because you have more. Woobin sunbae said you did."
"What else has he been telling you?"
"That I shouldn't worry about the prank caller who kept ringing my phone. He said he'll take care of it."
"How, nice of him."
"Well, he said he'd bring that person in front of me to apologize, but he hasn't done that yet."
"He's halfway there then."
"Eh?"
Yi Jung thinks, Woobin might not understand the complexity of innocent admiration, but he must have guessed it wasn't that to begin with. (He'd thank Woobin by not killing him.)
'You're crazy,' his bestfriend once told him. 'I'm probably in love,' Yi Jung says in his head. It scares him, but not as much as knowing she wouldn't be his.