post #18

[seoulfulness]

Fics ( #17)

untitled f(x), krystal/sulli
Each Day That Passes EXO/SNSD, Baekhyun/Taeyeon
beneath the ice cracks super junior-m/f(x), zhou mi/victoria
food for the heart ze:a, kevin/siwan
don't forget me girl's day, sojin/yura
I would trust you (with my password) btob, peniel/sungjae
lesson one: always have a spare key exo, baekhyun/chen
burnt

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destruction resolution (part ii)

[anonymous]

He uses his first roll of film on preserving old memories: before his moving date arrives, he snaps photos of his apartment, of his favorite restaurant, of the park he used to like to take a run in whenever he had free time. The people in Seoul who are still waiting for relocation don’t come out unless they have to anymore, so it is eerily quiet, unsettlingly empty. Instead of images of children playing on the swingset or tipsy businessmen hanging off the edge of their chairs as they order another round of drinking snacks, the photos come out devoid of other humans. They weren’t the memories he wanted, he realizes. A waste of valuable film, since he only has so many rolls and they are nigh impossible to come upon.

Myungsoo only looks through them once before he tucks them into a photo album and hides it at the bottom of a moving carton. Even after he’s finished with the relocation process, he doesn’t open up the box - he just shoves it into the bottom of his closet and buries it underneath his clothes and tries to willfully forget.

- - -

The third day after he moves in, there is a knock at his door.

Myungsoo opens the door, but he doesn’t let go of the knob. “Hello?” he asks.

“Hi,” says the stranger. “I’m Lee Sungyeol. I live nearby, so I figured I‘d come by and greet you. You’re new to here, right?”

“Uh, yeah,” Myungsoo says.

“Well, is there a name that you prefer to go by, or should I just make something up for you?” Sungyeol asks, and grins mischievously.

Myungsoo decides that somebody who can smile like that is probably alright, so he loosens his grip on the door and replies, “Right, sorry - I’m Kim Myungsoo.”

“Well, nice to meet you,” Sungyeol says. “Y’know - you’re the first person I’ve tried to greet since getting here that hasn’t shut the door in my face before this point. I’m getting a good feeling about you, Kim Myungsoo.”

To his own surprise, Myungsoo laughs a little at that. “Well, what can you expect, really?” he points out.

Sungyeol shrugs. “I don’t know. People are weird. Weirder, nowadays.” There’s a pause, before he asks, “Hey, are you from Seoul? You sound like it.”

“Yeah,” Myungsoo answers. “Born and raised there my whole life.

“Me too,” Sungyeol says, and he sounds pleased. “You’re the first person I’ve talked to in forever from Seoul. Everybody else here has weird accents - well, not that it matters, but, you know. It’s kind of weird to complain about not being at home when nobody else has the same home as you do.”

“You’ve been here a while, then?”

Sungyeol hums in affirmation. “One of the first ones to get moved. I’ve been here for almost five weeks already.”

“That’s pretty lucky, isn’t it?” Myungsoo asks. Everybody, in those first few days, had wanted to be the first one to leave.

“Maybe. I would have rather stayed as long as I could, though.” Sungyeol shrugs. “Ah, well. It doesn’t really matter at this point - what’s done is done already.”

Myungsoo thinks about the photos of empty streets he had buried and nods. Sungyeol goes on: “Anyway, if you ever wanna talk or need help or anything, I’m down that way - ” he points to the right “ - my name’s on the door.”

“Okay,” he says.

“You should come by sometime,” Sungyeol says, and smiles. “I have a good feeling about you, Kim Myungsoo.”

Myungsoo considers this, then smiles back. “I will, then,” he promises.