Villain kids

42

The air had grown still, the golden hour sun spilling lazy warmth across the field. The dogs flopped on their sides, their playtime devolving into sleepy snuggles.

Jisung sat stiffly on the grass, one hand resting atop a tiny golden-furred pup who had declared his lap its kingdom. He was trying—still wary, still hesitant—but his fingers gently scratched behind its ear.

Chenle sat a few feet away, tossing little sticks for a yawning border collie who had zero intention of fetching anything. For a long while, there was only silence. A shared stillness, broken only by the occasional dog sigh or tail thump.

Then, Chenle sighed.

A soft, weighty exhale.

He shifted closer and plopped down beside Jisung, knees brushing. The taller boy blinked, caught slightly off guard.

Chenle didn’t look at him. His eyes were fixed ahead, watching the dogs. “I’ve been... thinking,” he said quietly. “About what you told me the other day.”

Jisung stayed quiet.

Chenle’s voice was calm, but carried a tremble like a bird learning to fly. “You were right. About everything. I have been acting like I don’t care. I push people away, or I pretend like nothing touches me. Like I'm just... sparkles and sass.”

He chuckled bitterly. “But I do care. Especially about you.”

Jisung turned slightly, his expression unreadable.

“I didn’t mean to be cruel,” Chenle went on. “I just—I don’t know. I guess I’ve always thought if I let people in too close, I’ll just mess it up. Or they’ll leave. Or worse… I’ll become a burden.”

He finally looked at Jisung then. “But I don’t want to be that person with you. I don’t want us on bad terms. You matter to me too much.”

Jisung stared down at the sleeping pup in his lap. His lips parted, hesitating.

Then he spoke—softly, but clearly.

“I get it.”

Chenle blinked.

“I mean it. I know what it’s like… feeling like if you let someone in, you’ll end up losing more than you gain. And it’s exhausting. Always pretending you’re okay, even when you’re crumbling inside.”

He paused, exhaling through his nose. “I do that too. People expect me to be... quiet, or obedient, or harmless. I’m the guy in the background. The kid who’s just there. But that’s not all I am. I’m tired of feeling like I have to shrink myself to fit.”

Chenle’s expression softened.

“And about the room thing…” Jisung finally looked him in the eyes, heart hammering. “The only reason I didn’t want to room with you is because… I like you.”

Chenle froze.

Jisung swallowed thickly. “Like, really like you. And if we shared a room, every day would feel like walking a tightrope with no net. Because you’re funny, and annoying, and kinda magical in the most infuriating way. And I know I’d fall harder every single day. And I didn’t want to feel that vulnerable.”

A breeze tugged at their hair. The dogs slept on, blissfully unaware of the emotional earthquake rumbling through the field.

Chenle’s eyes were wide, his face blooming a deep shade of red. He looked at Jisung like he’d just been handed the entire sky.

And for once, he had no clever comeback.

Just breathless silence.

Chenle’s wide eyes didn’t waver. He stared at Jisung like he was trying to memorize the way he said those words. The ones that shattered walls and stitched them back up all at once.

“I…” he started, but had to swallow down a lump in his throat. “I don’t really know what to say. Other than… thank you. For telling me. For not pretending with me.”

He looked away for a second, composing himself, then back again. “I feel safe with you, Jisung. Like I can actually be myself. Not ‘the fairy,’ or ‘Fairy Godmother’s kid,’ or some walking sparkle machine. Just... Chenle. You make it easy.”

Jisung blinked.

Chenle’s lips quirked into a mischievous half-smile. “Also… you’re really hot.”

“W-what?” Jisung choked, ears practically combusting. “Hot??”

Chenle leaned in slightly, eyebrow raised. “Yeah. Tall, broody, soft voice, surprisingly good reflexes... it’s a thing. Deal with it.”

Jisung stared, dumbfounded. His brain had blue-screened. Then—despite himself—he smirked. “Well. Can’t argue with facts.”

Chenle laughed, warm and clear. Then, after a moment, he nudged their shoulders together. “Let’s not… label this yet. I’m still figuring out a lot. But I like you. You like me. That’s enough for now, right?”

Jisung nodded. “Yeah. That’s more than enough.”

They sat for a while longer, the dogs gently snoring around them, the sun melting low in the sky. A soft kind of quiet. Not awkward—just peaceful.

---

Later, back at the cafeteria, the gang was gathered around one of the long tables. Empty plates, noisy chatter, and Jeno attempting to build a pyramid out of grapes.

Mark stood at the head of the table, twirling a fork like a baton. “Okay, okay—everyone shut up for a sec.”

Jaemin dramatically flopped onto the table. “Ughhh, fine. Go ahead, your highness.”

Mark rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. “Tomorrow’s the big day. Coronation time.”

That got everyone’s attention. Even Jisung, who subtly elbowed Chenle under the table when he caught him zoning out.

Mark straightened up, taking a more official tone. “We all meet at the garden by noon. You’ll be lined up by pairs, then we walk together into the Grand Hall. That’s when the music starts—trumpets, violins, the whole royal playlist.”

Donghyuck chimed in. “Do we have to walk slow and serious? Or can I do finger guns?”

Mark: long sigh. “Serious. Please. No finger guns.”

Everyone chuckled.

Mark continued. “After we’re inside, I go up to my parents and the Fairy Godmother. She does the actual binding spell—uses her wand to anchor the crown’s magic to me. Symbolically ties me to the kingdom and all that.”

Chenle mumbled, “It’s more dramatic than it sounds. Lots of sparkles. You’ll love it.”

Mark nodded. “Then my dad hands down his crown to me. And boom—I’m king. Well, technically crowned prince until the midnight feast, but still.”

He clapped his hands once. “After that? Total party. There’ll be music, dancing, and food.”

Jeno perked up. “I hope there’s food. If not, I’m revolting.”

Sungchan grinned. “So basically, nothing changes.”

The table erupted in laughter as Mark buried his face in his hands, muttering, “Why do I hang out with any of you…”

But behind the jokes and jabs, there was an unspoken buzz of anticipation in the air. Tomorrow, everything changed.

And tonight, they were just kids—laughing, living, and maybe, just maybe, figuring out what love felt like.