Tryst | NCT

Park Jisung: Daydream

Dedicated to my friend @zennieverse :)

"Sucks to be tall, doesn't it?" you uttered passively with little hints of concern, stopping when you heard a 'bump' sound.

"Seriously," he sighed vexatiously, rubbing the corner of his forehead.

"Or you could try keeping your eyes in front of you while walking. Difficult effort, I know," you smiled, reckoning it to be one of his daily acts that contradicted the fact that he was an adult already. Nobody could deny the fun you had observing them first-hand, or anything related to him, really. You had a hard time believing it yourself, how your ears shot up at the mention of his name, or how you absolutely enjoyed his company. But you knew the reason. He was your best friend, after all.

"Your stupidity is rubbing off on me," he said, pointing his tongue at you. You just laughed in response, that's all you did in his presence.

"I didn't know stupidity could rub off on stupids. My bad, I'll keep it away from you next time," you remarked, folding your hands behind your back.

"By the way, tag along with me to the library," you muttered, already walking ahead.

"The library? Hell naw," he responded with an expression that lay between an assertion and a pout, clinging terribly towards a pout.

"Nobody asked you, sweetie."

You wouldn't classify yourself as the best observer out there, maybe you would, but one thing you'd noticed over the years was his change in demeanour when he was with you. He was open and expressive, not like he wasn't with anyone else, but there was a slight change. A change you noticed in yourself too.

Without further debate, he agreed and tagged along. The walk to the destination was a seemingly long and tedious one. But that fact was completely imbricated by his accompaniment.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, the vivid colours of a fleeting afternoon mingled together leaving the sky dusted with the vaguest of crimson. A strong yet gentle gust of wind whooshed past you, bringing the slightest harmony to your soul. It was such a beautiful day to be taking a walk out. And with him was a cherry on top.

He casually slid a hand into yours, locking them completely. It was a small and reassuring gesture you both were accustomed to. What a gesture as transient as that truly signified was beyond you both. It was a moment when, stripped of all pretending and façades, you both were truly yourselves. A moment when your and his truest and deepest feelings were conveyed in the simplest way possible without the need for words. And if what the both of you shared really had to be described, there probably was a word. 

Genuine.

On the way, you talked about homework and food and new writing contest topics and how you'd been feeling excluded in school and how a teacher unnecessarily scolded your class and whatnot.

"So," you began, initiating small talk. "What's it like being with me?" The second you realized your whereabouts; you were already facing the library. How he was able to get you so invested to the extent of you losing complete track of time was a mystery to even you. And that's what you were to him.

"Pick your words carefully, you only get one chance," you added.

"I'll think about it," he laughed.

After silently heading in, your eyes lit up to find an abundance of one of the best reality escapes the world has ever known. Books. Well, this was one of the few things that could get your mind off him. And believe me, totally off him. But that didn't mean his was off you.

Having known him for years didn't make you recognize or frankly conceive what a constant you were in his thoughts. You didn't know what you were doing to him. Or what he was doing to you, really. 

You grabbed the first part of the Shatter Me series and dragged out a chair in much excitement when you noticed him randomly fiddling around behind.

"Find a book, doofus," you emphasised on the last word, eyes not leaving the printed text.

"And that's what I'm doing," he smiled, raising an eyebrow.

"What're you reading?" he asked, bending down to level you from behind. His innocently confused eyes met yours when his reading glasses lightly grazed yours, causing a 'click' following the motion. Close enough for his chin to softly brush your shoulder, his hair to tickle your cheek, and for your heartbeat to pick up a questionable speed. There was just something about this proximity that made neither of you want to pull back. You felt blood rush to your cheeks; your body visibly reacting to the sudden propinquity. In all honesty, it made you feel like a twelve-year-old girl with a crush all over again—heart pounding, butterflies in your stomach, nervous energy in your veins. It was a truly sublime moment. A moment that made you question your feelings all over again. Deep down, you already knew that what you felt for him couldn't be spelt with the letters of friendship. It was something far, far beyond.

There was nothing stopping you from capturing his lips the next second. Nor him.

Well, nothing happened.

He suddenly pulled back, "The Shatter Me series, I see." People would label this set of events as awkward, but it really wasn't new to you, the sexual tension and all. It happened all the time, without the context obviously. He walked back to the shelf while you put a hand to your chest in a futile attempt to calm down your racing heart. 

He picked up a book named 'Green Eggs and Ham', a fascinating choice as always, and grabbed a seat across from you. After an hour of concentrated reading, you stretched your back and stood up to find the big baby asleep on the next counter. Books were never his forté.

You tip-toed your way to him and blew into his ear, earning an instant reaction from him. He jerked up immediately, rubbing his ear to eliminate the ticklish feeling.

"Wake up, buttercup."

"What the hell."

"You know the drill, we're leaving," you motioned your hand.

The formerly crimson-dusted sky was already replaced by a serene and quiet night attended by the moon, adorning a lustre as alluring as heaven. Walking down quite a desolate area devoid of human presence, hustle and bustle, made the silence even more prominent than it was. It was frankly bad for your heart the effect the moonlight seemed to have on him—how it reflected upon his pale skin and chiselled features and terribly enhanced them. Things about him that you had long since noticed.

"So, what was that amazing book that you were reading about?" you questioned. 

"It was about a guy making another guy eat green ham and eggs. Random, I know." 

"Definitely sounds amazing," you laughed and he followed. 

"Yeah, I recommend it," he joined in on the laughter.

After a moment of comfortable silence, he started, "You know," he looked at the moon, eyes glistening under the moonlight. "When you asked me what it was like being with you."

"What's the word, hummingbird?" you remarked curiously.

"It's like a daydream."

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(1190 Words)

[Daydream]~End