deceit • Han Seojun x Kang Soojin

19. five steps

19. five steps

Han Seojun often felt close to tears whenever he entered the room where the trio would practice songs. He entered the room and just stood still. He could literally see the three boys, happy, singing, goofing around, the keys of the piano in synch with the strings of the guitar and Suho's voice, while Seyeon joined him, Seojun would sit back and watch his best friends in pure solace.

And then he blinked, the bright room immediately faded into the dark, soulless room it was now.

"Good times," Suho said from behind him, "I miss us." He said, and Seojun blinked the tears away. He wanted to go back to being the goofy Seojun with his two best friends, just being kids, without any trauma or differences, just being them.

But neither could they go back to the past, nor could they be as they were.

With Seyeon's death, the blame game, the nightmares, and now Lim Jugyeong, Seojun and Suho knew they could never be what they once were. Suho wouldn't give up Lim Jugyeong and honestly, Seojun himself wouldn't, and it wasn't fair on the girl to be caught up in a mess she wasn't a part of.

Sure they were still in school, but Seojun knew that if Suho and Jugyeong did stick to each other, he would never let his heart go through the pain again by watching them from afar. He didn't know what he'd do without them, but he wouldn't stick to just being friends.

It is what it is.

Han Seojun smiled at Suho's words, looking at the room and then moving towards it. The way everything was placed, intact and spotless, he knew that Seyeon's memories would be his guide for the days to come. Who knew one day they'd leave this room never to come back.

He leaned on the window, the view from this frame was beautiful, the sun setting behind some cluster of buildings was often his favourite and of course the window adjoining the room, the one where Kang Soojin stayed.

Turning towards the right, he saw the faint light from her room, and he was reminded of the incident that happened just few minutes ago. Seojun's anger was both instant and dangerous, having gotten the same from his mother, a bane and a boon.

"What are you thinking?" Suho stopped examining the drum set.

Han Seojun leaned forward, "I'm thinking why didn't I enter Soojin's room from here, instead of climbing nine stories..." He paused, putting Suho in a thoughtful daze. "This girl is going to be the death of me someday." He muttered loud enough for Suho to hear, and he climbed out, much to the latter's astonishment.

Suho immediately rushed towards the window only to see Seojun balancing himself on the little passage that joined the room with Soojin's. It was a narrow path and a misstep would mean death, if you're lucky, else a lifetime of hospital visits and Han Seojun seemingly didn't care much about it as he made his way to Soojin's room again.

"Ya, Han Seojun," Suho yelled, they already had PTSD from Seyeon's death, falling off the building and heights never seemed to sit well with Suho so obviously he was startled and disturbed to see Han Seojun do this shit again. "Han Seojun, please, get down."

"Gwenchana Gwenchana," Han Seojun managed to say, as he held the railing with his hands, sliding to the next room, "ya just don't cry on my funeral," Han Seojun joked turning towards the fearful Suho, "your face turns uglier when you do." He winked, sliding away from Suho who would have cried then if it wasn't for Han Seojun's safe landing in Soojin's balcony.

Han Seojun slapped his jacket, he was still in his school uniform and although his heart kept beating from the adrenaline, he managed to run his hand through his hair by looking at his reflection from the window. He couldn't see much because of the tinted glass, nevertheless he knocked, just louder to get Soojin's attention. He waited for whole five seconds to knock again, this time with a soft Kang Soojin, but there was no answer. He would have called her if he didn't see the window slightly ajar and what else would he do to escape the wind than barge in like a thief.