Ambivalence

Comfort

ah, right. the past is never quite as good as your memory makes it seem, is that correct?

you can't help but feel like this saying (no matter how butchered and disagreed with it can be) describes the situation perfectly. the words can go on for forever, an endless rambling of letters mashed together, and you feel as if they would resemble your life in the most faultless way possible.

you can't decide if that hinders or helps your spirit.

(you can't decide on a lot of things. that's beside the point).

the boys are all around you, bouncing off of the walls with excitement, something that you have forced yourself to keep up with since the beginning of the day. not that that's all that difficult, not with him smiling at you, glancing through his bottled red colored mess of hair, laughing at something that someone had said, his witty comments in response that only pass through his lips when he's most comfortable.

you forget for a moment. of how difficult this will soon be, of how much work, how much strain the seven of you will have to go through - you're convinced that it'll all be worth it.

you let yourself fall into the category of 'waiting', something that you're not quite used to yet. you're one of those people that when you want something, you go for it immediately, against all odds; waiting is not something that you're keen on doing.

(you let yourself fall into the category of 'happy'. the group, the seven of you have gained so much already, and you're just getting started. you know that you should just let all of you worries go, there's no point to worrying since it isn't going to do anything anyway. you're exactly where you should be, with who you should be with, and that's all that you need. 'happy' has never seemed so easy.)

he pulls you into a tight hug, one that's sudden, unexpected by the both of you, it seems, if the way that his heart stops for a moment, something that you can feel through the thin material of your shirts; in the way that a startled laugh erupts from just over your shoulder, the palms of his hands curling around your body in a familiar, welcoming hold.

(you don't stop to think about what else these actions could mean. in hindsight, maybe you should be more insightful than you are. but jackson wang is many things, and insightful has never been a word to describe you, even in the most obvious of situations).

you let yourself be held by him, and the world around you stops. time does not seem to exist, it's like your soul has been lifted from your body, your thoughts creating a road map into what could be, what should be. the warmth that he radiates is enough for your shivering body to melt, and you find yourself wishing that the two of you could stay in each other's hold for the rest of your lives.

but too soon is the feeling gone, as he retracts his arms from around you, and you feel as though your happiness level has dropped substantially. you don't want to feel this way, like your well-being is so dependent on another person, like you can't be happy unless everything is going just as you want it to.

he smiles at you, just a brief rise of the sides of his mouth, something that wouldn't have been noticeable to anyone else but you, yourself. you've known him for years now, you know his personality like the back of your hand. you know his expressions pretty well also, if this moment is a testimony for that.

you return the gesture, letting your hands fall back to your sides. you decide not to question the way that his gaze flickers, something falling inbetween the look of fond and doting affection that was just shared between the two of you.

youngjae pulls your attention from him, his bubbly, infectious laugh twinkling into the worn in living room that the seven of you are currently settled in. in the background you hear mark being stolen away by bambam, the young thai boy joking about one thing or another to his hyung. jaebum, junior and yugyeom are all off in their own little world, enjoying each other's company, and as you talk to youngjae about anything and everything that comes to mind, you feel a light feeling sink into your stomach that has you questioning why you were worried about anything in the first place.

~

when deciding rooms, you were originally supposed to be placed with junior; something that neither of you minded, as you got along fine, and seemed to have a lot of things in common. then as the time approached to actually move into the dorm, the rooming between the two of you flunctuated, and you almost got placed with jaebum. when the seven of you finally moved into the dorm a couple of weeks later, it was officially decided that you would share a room with mark.

a sigh of relief had passed through your lips, your heart deciding to choose that specific time to flutter and nearly burst as you thought about sharing a room with him. you wanted to tell yourself to get over it, you're just sharing a room, that doesn't mean that it's actually going to go anywhere. that's what you try to tell yourself, anyway, but it seems as though your heart and your mind were not agreeing, and your internal reaction to the news stayed practically the same for the rest of that day.

the feeling is still the same, although now you've been rooming together for a while, and the timing of actually being able to stay and sleep in the room is becoming slimmer and slimmer as the days go on. promoting has started, and the seven of you are on a repeat of work, eat, sleep, work, eat, sleep, work, eat, sleep.

(not much actual sleeping goes on. your mind feels clouded, your limbs heavy, and if the implications of the previous disorganized mess of the day is anything to go by, then the other six members feel the same way as you do, also).

you look up at the ceiling, willing yourself to fall into an endless, dreamless sleep. you pull the covers up over your head, trying to get in the most comfortable position that you could possibly be in. fifteen minutes later, and still nothing. it's like your mind has decided that it's just gone 'nope, no sleep for jackson tonight. better luck next time.'

but your mind can't do that, because you have so much to do tomorrow, and if you don't get the sleep that you need, then you won't get anything done, and you'll feel terrible for slowing the other members down. you can't let that happen, not again.

"you always think so loudly. come here."

the seven words are spoken so calmly, and it doesn't surprise you that he knows exactly what you're going through. it seems that he can't sleep, either.

tugging the blankets off of yourself, you settle your body upwards, seizing your body weight off of the bed, padding your feet across the carpeted floor towards the older boy's bed. you can't see anything in the darkness of the room, no light reflecting off of anything to be able to tell you exactly where he is, no sounds to indicate the presence that he so firmly holds.

and yet you slip yourself into the bed, beside the other person in the room that you can't see but can feel, and that's all that you need to feel ten times more tired (and protected, loved, but you let those thoughts seep through your brain, deeming them unimportant, insignificant.)

he winds his arms around you, and there's that feeling again. but your mind is too sleep deprived, too heavy to really think about the feeling that's blossoming within your heart.

you let your eyes fall, and all you see is darkness, all you feel is his warmth and his tender lips on the top of your head, his hair falling onto your forehead -

you're lulled to sleep in less than a minute.