𝐍𝐎 𝐁𝐎𝐃𝐘, 𝐍𝐎 𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐄.양중원

home sweet home

"im going through it,

oh my god!

ill see you at the other end."

JUNGWON rolls on his bed, facing his nightstand languidly.

'sunday 24th september, 7:23am'

he clicks his phone off, putting it back on his nightstand, as he sits on the edge of his bed, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. despite it being a sunday, he likes the sense of routine he gets with waking up early-- he can get more done in a day, and he has a chance to be productive. he stands, stretching his arms, as maeum shakes, waking up from the side of his bed. 

"hey, maeum." jungwon smiles sleepily, petting his dog affectionately. maeum barks in response, alert at the sound of his favourite (sorry, halmeoni) human. the next thing he sees is a flash of white fur zooming around his bedroom as he makes his bed, laughing at his beloved puppies' questionable antics.

"jungwon!" he hears a soft, frail voice call from the living room, and he immediately waddles his way towards the sound. he smiles, cleaning up the dining table en route. (remember, clean freak.)

"morning, halmeoni."

"good morning, my dear. your parents will be back for chuseok soon. excited?" she chuckles, as she pipes cream into little pastries.

since he was but a child, both of his parents have lived in the city, together, leaving him with his grandmother here, in his birthplace. it was easier, they figured, as higher paying jobs resided in the capital, despite the far length it was from their real home. they visit 2-3 times a year, and chuseok is no exception.

"let me." cut out of his thoughts, he hums softly, moving to help his most-adored grandmother with the pastries.

it's a secret that he keeps private, but jungwon loves baking. he's not sure if that's just because his grandmother owns the bakery downstairs, but he can't help it. baking is therapeutic for him, a way to pour his creativity into something delicious for those he loves, a way to remind himself that he does have a purpose. that he isn't boring, and that he has his own hobbies.

he would say his most favourite is puff pastry. even alone sprinkled with nothing but sugar, it's delicious, but the pure versatility of it is what leaves him in favour. from cinnamon rolls to apple turnovers, the possibilities are endless.

if you ignore the fact that he's simply too scared to utilize such possibilities.

he's learnt to keep all of these personal capabilities to himself. most people his age have what they want to do in the future. jihye does, hell, she's been set on being a lawyer since middle school, but he just doesn't know. he can't be a baker. what income would he get? everyone would look down at him, and no one would take him seriously. and, yet, there's nothing else that ignites that spark in him like it does when he's piping icing onto cakes or dusting sugar atop little pastries.

his grandma cups his cheek, taking the pastries off him, before hitting his arm. "go wash up, young man. you have studying and errands to run. including walking the dog. go." she declares, and he breaks into giggles at her attempt at being assertive.

"okay, halmeoni~"

he gets himself ready for the day, before he leashes his jumpy dog, laughing as he tries (and fails) at disciplining the overly-hyper puppy. 

'sunday 24th september, 10:42am'

jihye groans, frantically trying to find her phone in the mess that is her bedsheets. her alarm is going off way to early for her liking, doing nothing but causing her grief. she peaks from her duvet, looking around her palace- her room, seeing nothing but clothes thrown everywhere and her desk crowded with last nights' study notes. she groans. she has to clean her room.

but it's sunday, so who can be bothered? not jihye, apparently.

"miloo~" she calls out for her pretty calico, not bothered enough to sit up. milo sits up, sitting proud and tall, slowly turning to face his owner.

and then he pounces on her and attacks the duvet.

she's used to milo's boisterous behavior by now - he's a boy cat, and he's like, 33.3% ginger, so it's understandable. doesn't mean its not annoying.

"milo! stop!" she whines, as he paws her face. he's not doing it to hurt her, because his claws are retracted. he's doing it to be annoying. but nonetheless, she loves her menace of a cat. it's nice having someone around when you, in reality, have no one around.

both of her parents are high-class, business owners, which explains the luxury she lives in. but they work late, and often stay abroad for business-y reasons. she has no siblings, either. there's a chef that comes to cook for her (and sometimes, if she begs hard enough, teaches her how to cook), but other then that, she's alone. 

so over the years, she's found comfort in what's expected of her. she's been expected to be a lawyer since she was young, yes, but overtime, she realises the honor that comes with fighting for justice. she's expected to practice piano three times a week, yes, but overtime (and it took a very long time), she's learnt to appreciate the beauty of the instrument itself.

and she's not complaining, because her parents let her take up taekwondo in the end, 7 years ago, and it's done nothing but help her. she loves the feeling of the adrenaline, the accomplishment of working so hard she sweats, but she mainly loves the feeling that she has a valid way to intimidate boys.

she cuts herself out of her chain of thought, moving herself to her bathroom to shower, do her skincare and all of that nonsense. all of that effort, to what?

rot in her bed or study all night.

it's her circle of life now and, she's learning to accept that.

the only thing she struggles to accept is how her parents are so close to her through the money the give and the lessons they make her take,

but so far from her, like they don't know their own daughter.

her mom, at least. her dad is an angel, one of the rarest people that she wouldn't mind being her real self infront of.

but just for today, she decides to break that cycle as a one off. so, she puts her study books down, picking up a much more enjoyable one en-route. she steps outside in the garden, enjoying the bristle of the crisp, autumn air, as she sits contently, surrounded by the comfort of the prettily coloured leaves and the well trimmed grass. she narrows her eyes, reading the text of her book dilligently.

"Without love and trust, resentment is the only thing that's left."

NOTE

breast and eggs reference!! really wanna read that book after seeing yunjin reading it bahahaha

im honestly enjoying writing this book so much  i've been sat writing for DAYS on end and im sososo excited to finish it,  AND i'm working on the ni-ki book as i promised!! locking in frl frl