Decembers With You

Christmas Mishap

Author's Notes: This is a "Clandestinely Yours" one-shot written in Yoon Se Ri's perspective.

—

December 2011

"Now, we have three options."

I clear my throat for the nth time that morning while facing the mirror. Then, I straighten my back and tilt my chin up, hoping that the confidence I have does not diminish a bit when I meet him in the living room in a few minutes.

"Number one," I unfurl my thumb. "Pretend nothing happened last night and act like before."

My jaw clenches involuntarily as I unleash my index finger, then say, "Number two: act as if nothing happened last night and never talk about it."

"Number three —"

A soft knock on the door interrupts my chaotic train of thought, and I oddly jump at the sound of it.

"Yoon Se Ri?"

A second or two pass by before it registers in my mind that Ri Jeong Hyeok is standing outside my door.

Seriously, how long have I been practicing?

And why am I even practicing?

"Yoon Se Ri?" Jeong Hyeok calls out again. "Are you ready? We have to go."

"In a" — my voice cracks as I utter the first word — "In a minute."

"Okay. I'll be downstairs."

I tiptoe to the door to plant my ear on the wooden panel and listen to his footsteps as he descends the steps, and I only realize that I have been holding my breath the moment the surroundings become silent again.

I puff out my cheeks and release the air with a huff, then run my palm down my front before reaching for the thick gray coat on the rack on my right.

Which — I discover the instant I see him at the lobby — uncannily matches the coat he is wearing.

"We look..." I chew on my lip as I struggle to phrase my observation. "Oddly coordinated."

"We do — but it doesn't make you any less lovely," Jeong Hyeok shrugs with a tiny smirk breaking his face.

I scoff and say, "Are we starting our pretense already?"

"Pssh... it's not as if we're playing make-believe or anything," he reasons out.

Casually, he ambles towards me until we are standing face-to-face. And without warning, he tugs at the lower fold of my mouth which my teeth are absentmindedly latching on to like a magnet to an iron bar with his thumb. Simultaneously, he purses his own lips and releases them at a leisured pace as if he is puckering up before a kiss.

Yoon Se Ri.

I lift my unsteady gaze from the plump flesh — the same ones that landed on mine hours ago — and dare to hold his, my eyes flitting between the two dark brown irises searing my soul. Before I know it, I am pouting too.

And somehow wondering if history could repeat itself.

Soon.

Yoon Se Ri! I inwardly chastise myself. Get a grip, will you?

So in an attempt to eradicate that notion from my chaotic head, I shake my head and divert my focus instead towards his fringe which — by the way — has grown long enough to touch his lashes.

"W-what was it again?" I stutter. "What have we agreed to call this temporary 'bizarre arrangement' of ours?"

He cocks a challenging brow at me as he reminds me, "We're living out the could-bes."