The lies were falling into Yeonjun's air easily, all these times he'd stood on stage and put on false passion into his smile paying off like acting lessons he'd never taken, like he'd studied this play as well. "Can I take this seat?" The air around Soobin appeared as if replaced - his hair fell in straight and orderly strands, his skin bore, albeit a little pale and tired, a healthy rosy glow, and his eyes fixed Yeonjun's in warm tones in place of hard conviction. Soobin's face was still all soft and round edges, lips curling his pointed mouth into a soft smile and shaping his cheeks into dimples Yeonjun had always loved so much. Soobin was attractive, nothing less than striking, maybe even more so than when touches of youth had still framed his face when they had last seen each other - or it was just Yeonjun for once not dismissing the hard reality of how Soobin was still affecting him. And yet It was all so achingly familiar, so achingly lost and everything Yeonjun had dreamed to feel again. "I had no idea you lived here," Soobin spoke, thrilled nerves still clear in his eyes. "Yeah, it's been a few years." Yeonjun tried not to lean too far into the warmth of his voice and the wish to hang in this space for too long, as though they were two old friends who had drifted apart, now picking up from where they had left off, as though people and lives didn't change over time. Oh, and how their lives had changed. or: Yeonjun thinks he and his friends have found a way to fit into the general scheme of things without drawing dangerous attention. Until a new opportunity falls into their hands and the tight intertwining of discarded feelings, looming eyes of past and present, and the slippery game of time suddenly resurface © -celestiiqx ; 2024 [cross-posted on ao3]