the thirty-eighth parallel | youngdo/eunsang | 3/3youcallitwinterFebruary 25 2014, 18:03:49 UTC
(Never give up anything for love, she'll tell him, one night, at Rachel's grand party for Hyo Shin sunbae's return. She'll be half drunk and happier than he's seen her recently, and he wouldn't mean to end up there at all, next to her, like they're all a part of the same social circle, like she fits in there now, like love actually fucking makes the world go round, if it feels like giving up, it's not love anyway.
Experience? Just to be a dick.
She'll reach out, absent-mindedly, and straighten his tie, and he'll have to remind himself to breathe, wisdom.)
-
He runs into her in the supermarket.
"Of all the supermarkets in all the towns, she walks into mine," he remarks, Casablanca is his mother's favorite movie. He remembers everything from it, Bo Na still makes fun of him for it.
She doesn't get the reference, her forehead creasing, "it's the one I always come to, you should know that, with that impressive stalker's profile you built up two summers ago."
You will always be a woman to me, he'd said once. He tried, not to, if anyone cares. It didn't work, but he tried. It has to count for something.
He never really learned how to cope with anyone's scars except his own. But he's older now.
"Choi Young Do," he sticks his hand out.
She looks at him for a moment, assessing, then takes it in hers, her lips turning up slightly at the edge, "Cha Eun Sang, I think I've heard of you."
"I'm fairly well-known around these parts." Somehow this doesn't feel like he's playing a part. She won't take more than he gives, and if he gives too much, it's his fault. But he needs honesty, sometimes. He needs honesty more than he needs distance.
"I'm looking forward to seeing if the rumors are true." She's awkward, because she isn't any older than he is. And she's a mess, he knows her well enough to know that. She cries when she's angry, sometimes, and smiles when she's angry, other times, and god, she's a mess.
She walks past him, clutching her packet of ramyun and he doesn't trip her just because he wants to hold her.
She turns back once she's on the other side of the glass door, because it's easier to see with distance, he should know that, "I'm glad," she mouths, her smile refracted by the rivulets of water, short hair sticking to her skin, and then she's gone.
He doesn't follow. It's okay, she'll be around tomorrow anyway.
(It doesn't feel like giving up something. There are a lot of things he learned about her that would be completely useless knowledge if this ends entirely, clogging up his head to no purpose, no end, and he's the selfish, use-value kind of guy. Everyone knows that.)
It's still raining when he steps out, the leather seat of his bike is drenched. He can't see her anywhere, but he can wait out the hours. He kind of has a graduate degree in that, anyway.
It sucks that he's in love with her, yeah, but he tried not to be and that sucked even more, so really, it's the lesser of two evils. And if he's choosing the lesser of two evils, she'd call it progress.
-
This is something to know: not saying it out loud anymore didn't make it not true, it was never a zero sum game. His father's right sometimes, for someone with an IQ of 150, he's fairly stupid.
-
(She'll get a head-cold later and glare at him in school, "most guys would have offered their jackets. Or a ride back."
She won't get the reference again when he makes it, but whatever, that's okay, really, he has enough time to slip his mom's DVD in her Texas Chainsaw Massacre collection someday. He's not really going anywhere. This isn't the thirty-eighth parallel, he doesn't have to be cut up along her fault lines, she never asked for him to be.
He doesn't get a do-over, he knows, but he gets this moment and every single moment after this moment, and, well, even if he didn't have an IQ of 150 and couldn't tell exactly how much, that's a hell lot of time.
He'll grin, "I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.")
*pets* well, when you think about it, it is all your fault and alex's fault. and i never host ficathons because i cannot stop writing when i do. life is hard.
Experience? Just to be a dick.
She'll reach out, absent-mindedly, and straighten his tie, and he'll have to remind himself to breathe, wisdom.)
-
He runs into her in the supermarket.
"Of all the supermarkets in all the towns, she walks into mine," he remarks, Casablanca is his mother's favorite movie. He remembers everything from it, Bo Na still makes fun of him for it.
She doesn't get the reference, her forehead creasing, "it's the one I always come to, you should know that, with that impressive stalker's profile you built up two summers ago."
You will always be a woman to me, he'd said once. He tried, not to, if anyone cares. It didn't work, but he tried. It has to count for something.
He never really learned how to cope with anyone's scars except his own. But he's older now.
"Choi Young Do," he sticks his hand out.
She looks at him for a moment, assessing, then takes it in hers, her lips turning up slightly at the edge, "Cha Eun Sang, I think I've heard of you."
"I'm fairly well-known around these parts." Somehow this doesn't feel like he's playing a part. She won't take more than he gives, and if he gives too much, it's his fault. But he needs honesty, sometimes. He needs honesty more than he needs distance.
"I'm looking forward to seeing if the rumors are true." She's awkward, because she isn't any older than he is. And she's a mess, he knows her well enough to know that. She cries when she's angry, sometimes, and smiles when she's angry, other times, and god, she's a mess.
She walks past him, clutching her packet of ramyun and he doesn't trip her just because he wants to hold her.
She turns back once she's on the other side of the glass door, because it's easier to see with distance, he should know that, "I'm glad," she mouths, her smile refracted by the rivulets of water, short hair sticking to her skin, and then she's gone.
He doesn't follow. It's okay, she'll be around tomorrow anyway.
(It doesn't feel like giving up something. There are a lot of things he learned about her that would be completely useless knowledge if this ends entirely, clogging up his head to no purpose, no end, and he's the selfish, use-value kind of guy. Everyone knows that.)
It's still raining when he steps out, the leather seat of his bike is drenched. He can't see her anywhere, but he can wait out the hours. He kind of has a graduate degree in that, anyway.
It sucks that he's in love with her, yeah, but he tried not to be and that sucked even more, so really, it's the lesser of two evils. And if he's choosing the lesser of two evils, she'd call it progress.
-
This is something to know: not saying it out loud anymore didn't make it not true, it was never a zero sum game. His father's right sometimes, for someone with an IQ of 150, he's fairly stupid.
-
(She'll get a head-cold later and glare at him in school, "most guys would have offered their jackets. Or a ride back."
She won't get the reference again when he makes it, but whatever, that's okay, really, he has enough time to slip his mom's DVD in her Texas Chainsaw Massacre collection someday. He's not really going anywhere. This isn't the thirty-eighth parallel, he doesn't have to be cut up along her fault lines, she never asked for him to be.
He doesn't get a do-over, he knows, but he gets this moment and every single moment after this moment, and, well, even if he didn't have an IQ of 150 and couldn't tell exactly how much, that's a hell lot of time.
He'll grin, "I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.")
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so i wanted to say something super mean but i cant even do that
just
just burry me
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If you're looking to find me, I'll be somewhere in the abyss. Bye.
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But it is my headcanon that Eunsang once broke a plate on Youngdo's head and he then paid for it.
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