Mark returns some time around seven and finds Donghyuck and Saeryeon huddled up in a blanket, talking instead of watching the movie they were so focused on earlier that has become a mere background noise now. The two don't seem to notice his presence, so he decides not to say anything and quietly makes his way to his room. He glances at his roommate whose eyes have hearts in them as he looks at Saeryeon before he closes his door; Mark hopes Donghyuck will finally tell her. It is just painful to watch the two pine for each other quietly.
Donghyuck doesn't have any plans to though. As sad as it sounds, he is fine with the way things are: him secretly in love with her and her not knowing about it. He thinks they are better off as just friends. If they ever begin dating and it doesn't work out, it will be hella awkward. So, for the sake of maintaining their closeness, he is just going to keep his feelings to himself like he always does.
"You really only have been in one relationship?" She asks again, incredulous.
"Yes, really," he laughs. "Why don't you believe it?"
"It's just that..." she trails off, hesitant to continue, but he waits for her to. She doesn't though and changes the subject. "Tell me about her. Ayeon, was it? I think I've met her once or twice."
"There's not much to tell," he presses his lips into a thin line. "Our relationship was doomed from the very start. I didn't really like her the way she liked me."
She asks, "Why did you date her then?" And he is silent for a moment.
When he thought his feelings for Saeryeon finally went away, he began dating this girl in twelfth grade. They never had any classes together, but she was in the drama club with him, that's how they knew of each other. She had confessed to him one day after rehearsals and he asked her to be his girlfriend four dates later, even though he wasn't interested in her. He thought he was at the time though.
He broke up with her after graduation, not only because she was going to college abroad, but also because he realized he only ever dated her just to prove to his friends that he didn't like Saeryeon anymore. Even so, they weren't convinced. Yangyang had even pointed out how similar their names sounded and they teased him about it for months. That's when he knew he never stopped being in love with Saeryeon since seventh grade, even when he dated someone else (yet he was still in denial for years after that).
"I, uh, felt bad. She seemed really nice and I didn't want to reject her." He lies, like always, and smoothly steers the conversation before she can ask more questions. "How 'bout you though? Why have you never had a boyfriend or a girlfriend before?"
"I just was never interested in dating back then," she shrugs as her eyes wander over to the television where the movie is still playing then looks back at him. "Found it to be a waste of time."
"What about now?" He asks. "Are you still not interested in dating?"
She is silent for a moment before giving him an answer, smiling, "Only if this one person asked me out." He questions her about it, but she keeps her mouth shut with a smile that only grows wider. He gives up eventually.
Why she won't tell him who that "one person" is is what he wonders all night, even in bed where the two of them lay with nothing but the sounds of their slow breathing and the gentle whirring of the fan. Maybe even his rapid heartbeat, which he tries his best to calm down. But their proximity makes it quite impossible.
As much as he wants to turn his head and look at her, he keeps his eyes fixated on the ceiling, afraid that if he does what he wants his organs will shut down in a panic. It is an overstatement, but he feels like that can happen. She does have the power to make him feel such things without needing to put in the effort, and that honestly terrifies him.
"Sunshine," she softly utters in the quiet of the room and his heart skip a beat as he hums in response. "Sunshine, sunshine, sunshine."
"What?" He finally turns to look at her and he swears he feels the air in his lungs getting knocked out of him for a moment. It is just eye contact, how did she manage to do that?
She giggles and his heart swells with bliss at the sound, "Nothing. I just like saying your nickname."
"Aren't you sleepy yet?" He asks, ignoring her comment and the way his body reacted to it.
"Not really," she says. "I think I have insomnia. I've not been getting any sleep the past week, and all the methods my dad told me to do didn't work."
He hums, "Have you gotten it checked out?"
"Honestly, I'm too lazy to," she lets out a breathy laugh. "It's probably not that serious anyways."
"My mom has terrible insomnia," he mentions. "And she takes sleeping pills every night."
"Does it help?" She asks and he tells her it doesn't, but she still takes them anyway. "Maybe it won't work for me, too, then. Plus, I don't like taking pills. It's... icky."
"What will you do about it then?"
"...I don't know."
They fall into another silence. He slightly tilts his head to glance at her and sees her eyes are closed. She is probably asleep, he assumes, but that assumption is proven false when her eyes flutter back open and stare straight into his. Once more, the air in his lungs gets knocked out of him as if he got kicked in the gut. She is really going to be the death of him one day.
In the dim lighting of the room, he manages to catch her eyes fall onto his lips. He gulps audibly. She looks back up into his eyes, and there is something about the way she looks at him that is different than usual. He can't quite distinguish it, but it makes a burst of warmth explode in his chest. A wave of panic washes over him when she subtly leans in, stopping only when their faces are a mere few inches apart. She doesn't do anything, probably waiting for him to make the move.
When the moment passes and he doesn't kiss her, he curses at himself for being such a coward.
