OFF OF THE DEEP END | CHANGLIX ✔️

22. can we get married?

two baddies /// nct 127

Changbin was still living off of the rush of the cuddle session on the plane, even though it had been a day, more than twenty four hours— and his heart still beat frantically ever time the idol frequented his thoughts (which was a lot), and a smile always brushed the sides of his mouth upwards and brought a rosy tint to his cheeks.

At least he could blame the blush on the cold. Japan had recovered from the winter, already leaping into spring with the promising pink hues of cherry blossoms dappling the streets, and it was warm enough to ditch heavy woolen overcoats for a lighter sweater. This morning, it was done with much regret when Changbin had to drop his favorite forest green sweater in favor for the big black coat that completely swamped him. Though, as good as he looked in green— drowning in fabric was worse than getting hit with one of the cold breezes that frequented the streets looking for unprepared victims to inflict hypothermia on.

Still, even as gorgeous as the Tokyo sunset was, the familiar interior of the bookshop would always be Changbin's favorite.

He entered the shop now, discarding the coat on a rack behind the counter and turning on the fireplace. The lights were already on and the open sign flipped, and Changbin wondered if one of his coworkers had already clocked in, or perhaps he'd come in at the end of someone's shift.

It had only been a few days since his last shift at the bookshop, but it had been months since he'd got a true day of relaxation. The months after the first concert had been spent in anticipation of the trip to Japan, and it always lingered on the corners of his mind and deprived him of total calmness and being able to achieve a state of peacefulness.

Changbin was only several minutes into his mindfulness, sitting in complete quiet on the couch in order to clear his mind and purify his thoughts when a "HIIIYAAAAHHHH" echoed through the bookstore.

A figure in black bolted from behind the bookshelves, blurring through the air and heading full speed to Changbin stretched out in a yoga mom position on the couch. They vaulted over the counter, flipping over the tall wooden expanse with one hand and ended up straddling Changbin on the couch, pinning him down with a book to the neck.

"What did I do to deserve this?!" Changbin choked out. "I've been a good citizen! Did I offend some mafia boss? Am I being executed?"

"Where the fuck have you been?" The figure in black seethed.

"Jisung? Is that you? Are you in a mafia?"

"What? No. Are you delusional?"

"Why do you look like that? Why did you jump me? You're the delusional one." Changbin cried, struggling to escape from the firm grip that held him down.

"Because I have questions for you, young man. And you'd better fucking answer."

"I leave you for a couple days and you do this? At least let me sit up, my god. Then I'll answer your questions— but only if you ditch that fucking mask."

"You're in no position to be making demands."

"What the fuck did I do to you?? Did someone spread rumors about me?"

"I'd like to know why my best friend mysteriously vanished, claiming that he was going on a trip for the first time in years without even warning me beforehand, and then shows up in fucking paparazzi photos of Lee-fucking-Felix! So yeah, I have a reason to get mad, because you're clearly not telling me something!"

"Jisung, I can explain, I promise, just let me get up."

"Fine," Jisung begrudgingly admitted, climbing off of Changbin and collapsing next to the man on the couch, glaring menacingly.