It Meets You Where You Wait • Yeonbin

FOURTEEN

"So," Soobin starts, "I read that you guys used to kidnap babies of bad parents. What's with that?"

Yeonjun is deadfaced across from him. "That's not true. Humans like to make shit up."

"Not at all?"

"No."

"Oh. That's lame," Soobin mumbles.

They're at the diner, the same one by his apartment he's visited several times. Soobin had a short morning shift, and now that he's out, they're getting lunch to pass the time.

"What about dark chocolate?" He giggles.

"Dark chocolate?"

"Yeah, I read on some website that fae don't like dark chocolate as gifts because it can harm wild animals if they eat it."

"I mean... I don't particularly deal with animals. I'm a water spirit. And I don't really take human gifts either. I don't care about dark chocolate?" He laughs as he takes another bite of his pancake.

"Wow, don't even know your own rules any more."

"It's been a long twenty or so years," he mumbles. Which is odd to think about, that Yeonjun has been dead about as long as Soobin has been alive. The realization hits him like a truck.

"Wh— you're old!" Soobin blanches, scrunching his face.

And across from him, Yeonjun laughs, genuinely laughs, deep in his chest, and giggles, "Yeah, I am, actually." He's hiding his smile behind his hand and tapping the table in joy. Soobin's face is still screwed up with the realization, but he starts laughing too, giggling because of how contagious Yeonjun's smile is.

"Like, you're fourty," he chokes.

Yeonjun takes a breath, and says, "I don't keep track, honestly. If someone asks me, I'm nineteen."

Next to them, one of the old men across the restaurant stands. Soobin doesn't think much of it, turning his attention back to Yeonjun.

Then he sees him out of the corner of his eye, as he starts hobbling toward them.

Yeonjun follows his glance and focuses on the man as well. His laughter extinguishes as quick as it came.

"Ah," the old man greets, making his way to them. He's a taller old man, with gray hair and deeply set wrinkle lines on his face. "Well if it isn't Choi Yeonjun, out and about."

Yeonjun's light expression, laughing only seconds ago, shifts into something darker, a heavier gaze. Soobin remembers now what he's sitting across from, because if looks could kill— well— they would. The air has completely changed.

"Hello, Hiro," Yeonjun greets. His face is sour, and whatever moment there had been, it was effectively ruined.

"I'm amazed you remember me, huh. Coulda gone the rest of my life without seein you, way you like to hide in your little pond," the man laughs. His frayed gray hair comes down to touch his glasses, pressing against their frames. Though Soobin hears his laughter, there's no humor in what he says; it's dry and empty, meant only to provoke.

"Hiding might be the wrong word," Yeonjun says lightly. He narrows his eyes at the old man. "I'd say if anyone spent time hiding, it might've been you."

Hiro laughs with great effort. "That's all past us now. What I heard, you're onto new things. Who woulda thought, hm?"

He now turns toward Soobin, who immediately sits up straighter.

"I haven't introduced myself yet," he says, voice strained, "Name is Hiro. Can I get yours, newcomer?"

"S—"