deceit • Han Seojun x Kang Soojin

44. a princess

44. a princess

"Here."

Seojun looked up at the styrofoam cup raised towards him and the girl who held it. The street light that lit above the bench they sat, shone on them with a soft beam. The night was dark, the streets were pretty much empty and while Suho's father handled everything else back in the station, Seojun and Soojin took a walk around the campus.

"Decaf is the only thing they had." Soojin's soft voice was doing more harm than comfort to the pissed Seojun. "If this was a cafe, I'd definitely get your favourite very ridiculous drink."

"This will do." Seojun took the cup from her hand, their fingers brushing momentarily. He took a sip of the hot beverage without meeting Soojin's eyes. He was worried he'd do something irrational again. "Gomawo."

Soojin, on the other hand, felt extremely small. Seojun hadn't reacted at all, not even a small hi or an aggresive gesture. He was quiet when they walked around and quiet when she offered to get them some coffee.

"Seojun," She hesitated, gulping in sheer nervousness. "Are you really going to be this way?"

Seojun looked at his hands, he couldn't even run away because he knew this probably was the last time he'd have Soojin with him. He could not risk the fact that she'll never be so close to him again.

"Mianhe," Soojin held her cup firm, not minding the warm beverage. "I know I shouldn't have-"

"Sit."

Soojin's eyes lit up, just because Seojun looked up at her and patted the wooden space next to him. She complied, sitting next to him as their shoulders touched.

For the first minute or so, there was silence. The wind was a gushing witness to their finale and the crickets were a loud audience in that lonesome night.

While Soojin took a sip of the machine coffee, Seojun glanced at the missing girl. Her hair were tied in a loose bun, messily stranded and her eyes seemed so tired. But the visible bruises on her face was really taking a toll on his anger issues.

Her lower lip had a unhealed cut mark, the corner of her mouth had a faint blackish spot and her forehead held a bandaid. Bags under her eyes calling out to her sleepless nights and the lines on her forehead proving her stressful life.

And she was just a teenager.

Seojun reached out his finger, taking Soojin by surprise as he caressed her lower lip and the faint bruise. And as softly his thumb traced the marks, the heartbeats of Soojin's stony heart increased it's pace.

"Does it hurt a lot?" He asked, softly with the faint tingle of the wind.

Soojin shook her head, with a smile and she held his hand, "ani, not at all." She then looked closely at the disheveled mess he was. "But I'm pretty sure yours hurt." She pressed the blue wound on Seojun's cheek only for him to wince.

"Ya, that hurts!"

"Well, who the fuck told you to do such a thing?" Soojin faced him with a concerned look. "Seojun, how could you do such a thing? What if something would have happened to you, you idiot."

At first Seojun thought she was mad he raised his hand at her father, but she was mad because he wasn't thinking straight. He pouted, lowering his gaze.

"Someone had to do it." He said, holding Soojin's hand in his, brushing his finger softly on her bruised knuckles. "You call me a wannabe gangster, might as well stay true to it."

That earned Seojun another poke on his bruise and he yelped in pain.

"Hajima!"

"You're an idiot."