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im-genie-for-your-wish · 6 years ago

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“That’s my dragon.” [D.O.] (10/12)

Group: EXO Member: D.O Word Count: 2027 (chapter) / 13156 (total) Summary: Do Kyungsoo, stereotypical brooding genius who doesn't really play any role in your life... Until Dame Boah declares the two of you must take care of an dragon egg together to see who gets the chance to become a full-fledged Dragon Rider. With the stakes raised sky high, you struggle with your newfound archnemesis and your tumultuous relationship with him, learning a little (a lot?) about yourself along the way. Tags: Enemies to lovers

The thought lingered in the back of your brain, an insidious intrusion that popped up during the most inopportune of times. Like now. Your gaze strayed back to Kyungsoo as you cooed over the egg. He raised an eyebrow. After reconciling, the two of you had spent almost every waking moment of the day together. Not because you were that clingy but because the egg exhibited telltale hatching signs. It vibrated at regular intervals, and the shell measured even thinner.

Kyungsoo closed his book. “What is it? You have the same expression that I saw last time when you thought that our egg needed some fresh air.”

“Hey,” you snapped, “how was I supposed to know that there was a group of territorial hawks in the East Tower?”

Kyungsoo gave you a look, and you deflated. “Sorry, I’ve just been thinking.”

“Shocking,” he drawled.

You glared at him. Some things never changed, no matter how many times you offered someone your rice. “I’ve been thinking,” you continued, “about what your dad said a while ago.”

Kyungsoo sat his book on the ground, turning his full attention toward you. He pursed his lips. At first, you thought he’d laugh off the question, but then he gave you a short nod. You waited for him to continue. He didn’t.

Seems like you would just have to tackle the issue head on. “What did he mean when he talked about holding up your end of the bargain? It’s almost been a month, so…” Kyungsoo’s stricken expression sent you scrambling. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. I mean, yeah, forget about it. You know how my mind wanders. The other day I was thinking about dragon ecology and how dragon excrement can be used to fertilize—”

“Please stop.” Kyungsoo held up one hand and pinched his nose with the other. “I don’t wanna know about it.”

A period of awkward silence followed, and you stared down at the egg, stroking it in short repetitive motions. Had you offended him? You reached out with one hand and patted Kyungsoo’s shoulder.

He laughed. “It’s nothing,” he said, but when you looked up and saw his distant expression, your throat constricted. He gave you a small smile and moved your hand from his shoulder, giving it a squeeze as he put it back on the egg. “Don’t worry about it.”

But that didn’t stop your train of thought. In fact, it accelerated its path, and you found yourself seeking answers.

Chanyeol shifted in his seat, avoiding your gaze. “You should really ask Kyungsoo about this.”

Maybe cornering him in the stables hadn’t been the best option. You cradled your head in your hands. “I have asked him, but he always avoids the question. I know it’s underhanded to go behind his back, but I can’t shake off the feeling that this is really important. And”—you broke off your intense staring at this point, studying the patterns in the floor tiles instead—“I’m worried about him. I want to help him if I can.” Your last sentences came out in a rush, syllables slurring together, but Chanyeol seemed to understand.

“I just don’t…” He bit his lip. “I shouldn’t tell you.”

“Shouldn’t but?” you coaxed, sensing his hesitation and pouncing. You could hammer at this chink in his armor until it broke.

Chanyeol, however, stood tall and immovable. He crossed his arms and frowned at you, all the while shaking his head. “If you want to know, you should ask Kyungsoo.”

That was the end of the conversation. You skulked back to the entrance of the stables and returned to mucking out the dirty straw bedding. Asking for an extra shift had not been worth it. Who in their right minds would volunteer to literally shovel shit? You apparently. The things you did for that man…

You paused to wipe the sweat beading on your forehead with the edge of your work apron and then froze. Behind you Chanyeol sucked in a sharp breath.

“Sir Do,” you stammered, executing a hasty bow. Suddenly aware of the stinky pitchfork grasped in your hands, you dropped it. It didn’t help your feeling of self-worth; Sir Do still looked at you as if you were a piece of dung he had accidentally stepped in.

Chanyeol came to stand beside you, a warm presence in the now chilly atmosphere. “Sir Do, Kyungsoo is—”

“I did not come to speak with Kyungsoo,” Sir Do said, and his eyes tracked your nervous movements as you wiped away some errant dirt and took off your apron.

You weren’t dumb. It was pretty obvious who he had come to speak to. “I’ll be right back,” you said to Chanyeol. The man didn’t look particularly happy with your decision, nose scrunched and lips turned down in a frown, but he didn’t stop you as you walked out of the stables.

Sir Do took the lead, and the two of you found a secluded corner in the nearby training field.

You spoke first. “I assume this is about the last conversation I overheard between you and Kyungsoo.”

“Perceptive,” remarked Sir Do, but he didn’t seem impressed. Instead he pressed his lips into a thin line and continued, “I won’t waste your time nor mine. I believe we got off on the wrong foot last time.”

“Like father like son,” you joked.

Sir Do didn’t even crack a smile. “You work hard, and I respect that work ethic. However, Kyungsoo is on a tight schedule. Failing to receive an egg after his first round of consideration was already in itself a disappointment, but I made an exception and gave him a second chance.”

You resisted the urge to snort; very few people made it after just one round of consideration from Dame Boah (not even Sir Do himself).

Sir Do’s expression softened as he continued. A semblance of a smile crossed his face. “I’m sure that you’ve all heard my story. I’ve heard that Dame Boah still uses it as a motivational tool.”

You nodded. While it was hard for you to reconcile the proper looking man in front of you with the scrappy youngster who had come from nothing, you knew the story. Everyone knew the story. Sir Do, born with nothing not even a family name, had come to the academy and taken it by storm. He created the Do name from nothing but his own sheer determination and the innate talent he had for dragon taming. Dame Boah used it as an example of not judging people based on background. (Somewhere in the back of your mind, you realized that was exactly what you had done with Kyungsoo when you first met him.)

“I’ll speak the plain truth then. I just want my son to appreciate and fully utilize the opportunity he’s been given. Not all of us are so lucky to have such a background.” Sir Do frowned, no doubt recalling his own bitter struggle. “He has had so much more than me, so he should be better than me. As a parent, my one wish is for my son to live a better life than I did. That’s why I told him that if he can’t secure an egg in the second round of consideration, he should focus his efforts elsewhere. It was not my original intention to have him become a rider, but”—Sir Do shook his head with a fond smile—“he gets his stubbornness from me. There are other professions that offer more financial security, more respectability, and—”

You drowned out the rest of Sir Do’s speech, trying to pick out the most important pieces of information. First of all, despite his dour demeanor, Sir Do cared about this son. You could tell that he wanted his son to succeed. However, because of Sir Do’s background, he set his expectations for Kyungsoo sky high. Kyungsoo had been born with an advantage, so he should utilize it. Finally, if Kyungsoo did not receive an egg in this round, he would…

“Leave the academy.”

Sir Do paused and then looked at you.

“You’re saying he would leave the academy, give up on being a rider,” you clarified. “This is his last chance.”

It was funny how words could send your stomach spinning.

“Yes,” Sir Do said. “If he does not receive an egg this round, he’s not suited to be a rider. His talents should be focused elsewhere. Perhaps he can become a court judge.”

You tried to imagine Kyungsoo sitting as a judge, suffocated under swathes of black cloth and powdered wigs. It was a noble profession, but it wasn’t Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo was laughter, sunburnt noses, hair whipping in the wind, and the smell of dried sweat and well-worn leather. Kyungsoo achieved his highest marks in hands-on classes, not conceptual ones. He was born to ride.

Sir Do’s heavy hand on your shoulder brought your focus back to the present. You stared up at the man who you had read about in your history textbook. On paper, he seemed larger than life—numerous awards, multiple honors, and an innate talent that could not be tamed. In real life, all you saw was a man trying his best to secure a future for his son, no matter what Kyungsoo had to say. (And you were sure Kyungsoo had a lot to say.)

If you learned one thing about Kyungsoo in the more than half-a-year you’d known him, it was that he never gave up. Whether it was a stupid competition of “who can name the most dragon species” or a “who can change the bedding the fastest”, he pursued victory with a dogged determination you could only dream of. You couldn’t imagine he would be happy being forced away from his dream, and you had no doubt that Sir Do had the power and influence to keep Kyungsoo locked out of the academy.

You thought back to your own past. This was your first egg consideration—the past round, you hadn’t even made the cut. But you had pulled yourself together and worked your butt off for another opportunity, and it had paid off. Even if you did not receive an egg this round, you were young enough that waiting another year wouldn’t hurt your chances. You also still had the full support of your family back home, both emotional and monetary. The more you thought about it, the luckier you were. While not entirely sold on the idea of you becoming a rider, your father had never forbade you, and your mother had always supported your choice. Even if this path did not work out, you had a home to return to. Did Kyungsoo? If riding didn’t work out, would Kyungsoo return to a home or to a prison?

“I—”

Sir Do held up a hand. “I did not come here for an answer. I just came here so that you understood the gravity of the situation.” With that, he gave you a stiff nod and strode away.

You stood there for so long that you didn’t even jolt when Kyungsoo skidded around the corner, out of breath and red-cheeked. No doubt Chanyeol, worried by your prolonged absence, had told his friend what occurred.

“Are you okay? My father, he didn’t.” Kyungsoo waved his hands. “Seriously, are you okay?”

You gave him a cheeky smile. “Relax,” you said, slapping him on his back. “He just wanted to thank me for saving you. Guess that’s two Do’s who owe me now.” The lie slipped out easily.

Kyungsoo eyed you. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

“Please, I could take your dad.” That statement was genuine. The smirk that you shot in Kyungsoo’s direction wasn’t. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were worried about me.” You nudged Kyungsoo.

“I am.”

His admission took you by surprise. At a loss for words, you reached out and squeezed his elbow, hoping that the touch comforted him. Kyungsoo didn’t say anything more, but he helped you finish cleaning the rest of the stable. It was fine though. Because in your mind, actions spoke louder than words.

#kyungsoo scenario #exo scenario #d.o scenario #do kyungsoo scenario #kpop scenario #thats my dragon

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im-genie-for-your-wish · 6 years ago

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“That’s my dragon.” [D.O.] (9/12)

Group: EXO Member: D.O Word Count: 1152 (chapter) / 13156 (total) Summary: Do Kyungsoo, stereotypical brooding genius who doesn't really play any role in your life... Until Dame Boah declares the two of you must take care of an dragon egg together to see who gets the chance to become a full-fledged Dragon Rider. With the stakes raised sky high, you struggle with your newfound archnemesis and your tumultuous relationship with him, learning a little (a lot?) about yourself along the way. Tags: Enemies to lovers

You were no stranger to friend fallouts. When you were a young impressionable preteen, you ended up punching your then-best friend in the face. For the next two weeks, the two of you brawled whenever placed in the same room. To be fair, you and Minho still fought nearly every time you met, but it was much more controlled now. When you were a teenager, you got caught up in a nasty bullying scuffle, and that was how you dropped your friendship with one girl and became besties with Amber instead. None of them had affected you in such a visceral way before.

“I’m a horrible person,” you wailed, blowing your nose on the flat sheet clutched in your hands.

Amber gagged and patted your shoulder with the tips of her fingers. Once your friend caught wind of your predicament, she dropped her planned activities to come see if you were all right. When she walked in on you bawling your eyes out and punching your pillow, she knew right away something happened. “You’re not a horrible person. You’re just…” She shrugged. “You tend to solve problems with your fists instead of your words.”

You lobbed your pillow at Amber’s head. It hit the young woman with a loud thump and dropped to the floor. Pushing down on her dishevelled hair, Amber glared at you.

You clenched your jaw. You hated this one thing in the world more than brussel sprouts, sand stuck underneath your toenails, and the sound of tearing parchment paper—knowing you did something wrong and that it was 100% your fault. You were never one for words as evidenced by your low grades in rhetoric classes. Ever since people brushed off your thoughts as a child, you wondered why people even bothered talking if no one ever listened. That belief stuck with you through the years.

You stared down at your bedsheets. “I can’t, Amber.” The words stuck in your throat, clogged by years of disuse and repressed emotions. “I don’t know”—you dug your heels into the mattress—“how.”

“Well figure it out,” your friend said. She contrasted her harsh words with a gentle pat on your head. “I know you can do it.”

“Thanks,” you snuffled.

Knowing you had to apologize to Kyungsoo was one story. Finding him was another. After turning up empty-handed at the nursery, the library, and his room, you realized that Kyungsoo had been right. You didn’t know much about him. You sighed as you passed the same tapestry once again. Why was everything so confusing? You hated visiting the male quarters.

You almost (keyword: almost) let out a yip of joy as you rounded the corner and bumped into Kyungsoo. “Kyungsoo!”

Kyungsoo glared at you, and your stomach dropped. When he took a few steps back, your heart stuttered. This was it. You fucked it up so badly that he would never forgive you. But then a tall figure barrelled around the corner and Kyungsoo’s sullen expression made sense.

“You do not walk away from me.” Kyungsoo’s father towered above the two of you, a scowl marring his face as he reached out to grab his son.

You jerked your arm outward, blocking his path, instinct fueling your action. Sir Do recoiled as if burned.

“You are?” he asked, wiping his hand against his trousers.

You struggled to keep your knees from knocking against each other as you straightened your back and introduced yourself. You didn’t meet a legend every day, especially not someone you considered your personal idol.

“Ah.” Sir Do’s nose wrinkled. “The other trainee recommended to receive a dragon egg. Well, I am going to speak to Dame Boah about this oversight now.”

You mind froze, cogs creaking to an unsteady stop. “Oversight?” you asked.

Sir Do strode past you, knocking you out of the way. Kyungsoo put a hand on your shoulder to steady you as you stumbled backwards.

“Kyungsoo, come,” Sir Do commanded. “I will sort this out with Dame Boah, and the dragon will be yours. It’s ridiculous that its ownership was even a question in the first place.”

All thoughts of apology flew out of your brain, and you opened your mouth to speak. Kyungsoo beat you to the chase.

“Father, I will tell you once again. This attitude of entitlement goes against the rider code of honor. If the dragon is to be mine, it will be mine through my own hard work and dedication. Please don’t bring anyone else into this, especially not someone who has the skill and heart required to become a rider.” His lips trembled as he spoke, and you felt the urge to reach out and grab his hand.

Sir Do looked as if he had just stepped into a large pile of dragon dung. “Fine,” he sneered, “but remember your end of the bargain. I’ll be hearing from you by the end of the month.”

Kyungsoo’s mouth pressed into a tight line. “I will,” he said between gritted teeth.

As Sir Do strode down the hallway, you turned toward your friend. “You really mean that?” you asked.

“Mean what?” Kyungsoo rolled his eyes and turned away from you, but you weren’t discouraged.

“You think I have the skill and heart to become a rider?” You held your breath. When Kyungsoo nodded ever so slightly, you let go of all restraint and flung your arms around the man. The words spilled from your lips, flowing freely like running water. “I’m sorry, Kyungsoo. I didn’t mean to say those things. I don’t actually think those things about you. To be honest, you’re one of the kindest and most talented people I’ve ever met, so please please…” You trailed off, unable to speak the words you wanted to say. Please don’t hate me. Please don’t leave me.

Kyungsoo’s gentle touch on your wrist nearly sent you into another crying jag. “I’m sorry too. I know you didn’t mean it because I didn’t mean what I said either. I was just…”

You finished his sentence. “I was just worried about you.”

You released your grip on him, and the smile he sent you when he turned around sent your stomach backflipping.

“Dinner?” he asked, touching your elbow.

Tingles spread from the area of contact, sending a flush across your cheeks. “Sure, friend,” you murmured.

However even as you enjoyed a light-hearted meal filled with banter and good food (the cafeteria was serving its famous salmon fillets), you couldn’t shake Sir Do’s words from your thoughts. Remember your end of the bargain. What bargain? To what end? What did Kyungsoo have to uphold?

But you always treated a newly repaired friendship like a recently healed wound, keeping the bandage on until the scab disappeared so that you wouldn’t pick at the edges and open it once again. Thus you kept your mouth shut, and the rest of the night passed without further complications.

#do kyungsoo scenario #d.o. scenario #d.o scenario #kyungsoo scenario #exo scenario #kpop scenario #kpop scenarios #exo scenarios

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im-genie-for-your-wish · 6 years ago

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“That’s my dragon.” [D.O.] (8/12)

Group: EXO Member: D.O Word Count: 1829 (chapter) / 13156 (total) Summary: Do Kyungsoo, stereotypical brooding genius who doesn't really play any role in your life... Until Dame Boah declares the two of you must take care of an dragon egg together to see who gets the chance to become a full-fledged Dragon Rider. With the stakes raised sky high, you struggle with your newfound archnemesis and your tumultuous relationship with him, learning a little (a lot?) about yourself along the way. Tags: Enemies to lovers

“Left.”

You launched your left fist forward, burying it deep into Minho’s padded hand. The trainer grunted once in approval.

“Right.”

Repeating the motion with your right fist, your mind wandered as muscle memory took over.

“Upper kick.”

You swiveled around, using one foot as a focal point as you extended your leg and smacked the strike pad straight off Minho’s hand. Your friend sighed. He tracked the trajectory of the runaway pad and turned to look at you.

“What’s up?”

You brushed a damp strand of hair away from your forehead. “Nothing.” Though the air was chilly with the upcoming hints of fall, you still sweat profusely during outdoor training sessions.

Minho looked in the direction of the pad and then back at you. You gave him your sweetest smile.

He crossed his arms. “I’m not getting that.”

“Ugh, fine. You’re such a…” You trailed off, grumbling all the while as you jogged over and picked up the offending item. You dropped it in front of Minho’s feet with a hmph. As if you were going to hand it to him. As Minho readjusted it on his hand, you summoned the courage to ask your burning question. “Minho, have you ever...you know...liked me?”

Minho whirled around. You blocked his punch with a swift arm movement, knocking his hand out of the way.

“Sorry,” he said with a cheeky smile, “just making sure you were still you.”

Understandable. You drummed your fingers on your knee. “It’s just—we've been friends for forever, and I’ve never liked you. Have you ever liked me?”

Minho threw another punch your way. “No, why are you asking though?” His eyes widened to comical proportions. “Do you like me?”

“I just said I didn’t like you!” you screeched, assaulting Minho with a barrage of punches.

“Good! Good!” he crowed. “You were holding back earlier. Usually you’d have kicked off both my mitts by now.”

You rolled your eyes and confirmed your question had been answered. People could just be friends without any weird feelings—unless of course you counted the feeling of pure unadulterated vexation as strange. While that answered one question, it raised another. What did you feel about Kyungsoo?

For the next month, you kept this question at the back of your mind. You enjoyed spending time with him sure, but did you really like him? He annoyed you to no end with his neat freak cleanliness levels, and you found some days you weren’t in the mood for his jokes. But other times you wanted nothing more than to poke his cheeks and hang out with him for the entirety of your day.

It was one of the latter days when Dame Boah called you and Kyungsoo out for a training session. You swung an arm around Kyungsoo’s shoulder. “Good luck out there today. You’ll need it.”

Kyungsoo laughed before slipping out from under your grasp and clambered up on Kel’s back. Kel, a pale yellow Asian Acidwing, was Kyungsoo’s choice of training steed. You, of course, stuck to your old buddy Bam.

“You’ll help me win, right?” you asked, stroking Bam’s snout. The black dragon huffed in agreement, and you climbed up the riggings of the saddle with ease. Having flown this course a million times before, you guaranteed victory.

“Don’t get cocky!” called Kyungsoo as he fastened his goggles. “Playing it safe will only result in your loss.”

“As if I could lose,” you hollered back, strapping on your goggles as well. Leaning forward, you kept your ears primed for Dame Boah’s signal. The instant the shot rang through the air, you were off. Bam’s powerful wings created a vortex of wind, and you gripped onto the pommel of the saddle, white-knuckled and sweaty-palmed. The first part of the course was simple, testing the accuracy of a rider’s turn. You guided Bam through the twists and turns without knocking over a single stone. The second part of the course was the tricky section.

As Bam nosedived, you wracked your brain for the best way to make it through the dense forest without hurting you or your dragon. Beside you, you heard Kyungsoo’s exuberant whooping as he pulled ahead of you, urging Kel on even faster.

That’s fine, you thought. Slow and steady wins the race. “Keep your eyes open!” you yelled over the rushing wind. Bam snorted in reply, and you pressed your body down low to the dragon’s neck. Despite your flattened surface area, the spindly branches of the forest trees managed to nick your exposed skin. “Watch out for that hornet’s nest!” You cursed as Bam veered to avoid the tree. How was Kyungsoo going so fast?

Then, above the howling of the wind, you heard the high-pitched whining of a distressed dragon. Peeling your head up from Bam’s scales, you peered into the distance. Kel’s wings beat at an awkward angle, sending both dragon and rider hurtling off course. Kel’s thick body slammed into a tree, and the forest trembled. You took it all in as if watching a movie, frame by frame, as Kyungsoo’s rigging loosened and he tumbled out of the saddle.

You screamed, a curious high-pitch sound, as you rammed our heels into Bam’s side. The dragon gave a mighty roar and dove toward the other unfortunate pair. Chest heaving, you licked your dry lips and ignored the jackhammer beating of your heart. As you drew closer and closer to the lone figure, your palms grew clammy, and you fought to keep a tight grip on the saddle. All you could think about was Kyungsoo—his shy smiles, his round wide eyes, his mellifluous voice, his everything.

“Get underneath him,” you choked out. Bam obeyed your order, shooting forward. You careened toward the earth. Black spots danced across your vision, a product of the sudden change in altitude. “Tactical strategy forty-three A…” You sucked in a shallow ragged breath. “Now!”

Bam spread out his wings, stalling the two of you midair, as you smashed the emergency landing crystal. Glittering shards of graphite and pink quartz, infused with magic, formed a net that absorbed Kyungsoo’s kinetic energy as he slammed onto Bam’s back. You battled for consciousness as Bam landed with a massive thud that knocked you out of your harness. Gripping onto the pommel, you pressed two shaky fingers to Kyungsoo’s neck, verified that he was still very much alive, and succumbed to the blackness encroaching on your vision.

When you woke up, someone was saying your name. Correction. Someone was crying your name. Static filled your ears, and you shook your head, pushing away the shaky hand on your shoulder.

“Dame Boah, she’s awake.” Kyungsoo’s concerned face swam into your vision.

You took in your surroundings. This certainly wasn’t where you used to be. “Oh shit.” You dropped your head into the palm of your hand, screwing your eyes shut as heat rushed to your cheeks. “Did I faint?”

“Yes, you did.” The cool touch of Dame Boah’s hand soothed the fire underneath your skin. “Drink this.”

You pinched your nose and downed the noxious concoction. The ringing in your ears faded, and you opened your eyes. Somehow you had been transported back to your room.

Dame Boah smiled down at you. “Now rest, young one. I will evaluate the two of you another time.”

“Thank you, Dame Boah,” you murmured as she glided out of the room. Then you propped yourself up and glared at Kyungsoo. “What happened out there?”

Kyungsoo perched on the edge of your bed, scuffing his shoe against the ground. “Kel flew into a hornet’s nest.”

You growled. “You mean you flew into a hornet’s nest. It’s the rider’s job to look out for the small details.” Frustration, hot and heavy, bubbled up underneath your skin. How could Kyungsoo have been so stupid? It was the first lesson taught to riders. Dragon vision was meant for long range distances, so riders would have to be their eyes for nearby objects. “It was right in front of you. Only an idiot would’ve missed it.”

Your scathing words ignited Kyungsoo’s temper. The man stood up and paced around the room, feet thumping onto the floor so hard that you thought he might crack the tiles. “It’s the rider’s job to make sure that all rescue operations are safe. You endangered yourself by changing altitude that quickly.”

You stared at him. Why was he so upset? He should just own up to his mistake! “Are you pinning this on me then?” you all but snarled. “What was I supposed to do, leave you there to die? Maybe you really are the self-centered idiotic jerk I thought you were.” As soon as the words left your mouth, you deflated, shoulders slumping. “I’m sorry, Kyungsoo. I didn’t mean—”

But Kyungsoo had already leapt up from the bed and made his way to the hallway, slamming the door behind him.

“Fine, asshole,” you yelled, throwing your pillow at the door. “Watch me ever try to save your life again. To think I like—”

The door slammed open again, and Kyungsoo strode back in, back straight and eyes furious. “You don’t know.” He jabbed a finger in your direction and kicked your discarded pillow into the wall with a muffled thump. His usual pristine clothing was rumpled and dirty, and his hair flopped down over his eyes. “I worked damn hard to get to where I am, and I don’t need you or anyone else undermining my effort.”

“I worked hard too.” Your throat burned as you choked out the words. The familiar prickling behind your eyes warned you that you might cry. “I’m sorry that I’m not a prodigy like you. Do Kyungsoo, the prodigal son born with a golden spoon in his mouth because his father was already a famous rider.” The caustic words continued to spill from your lips. “Tell me exactly how hard you had to work to get into the academy.” The unspoken truth hung in the air.

Kyungsoo heaved a sigh. Without looking in your direction, he lobbed a package at you.

“What is this?” you questioned, but Kyungsoo was already gone. You unwrapped the package, ripping through the neat folds and cute patterned paper. Inside it was a book. Engraved in the leather cover were your initials along with a title: Caring For Your New Hatchling: A Beginner’s Guide. When you opened it to the first page, you choked. Kyungsoo’s neat handwriting filled each page along with exquisitely detailed diagrams of newborn dragons. As you flipped through the pages, a notecard fell out.

Sorry for missing your birthday, but we weren’t friends then. Hope this makes it up to you.

“I’m sorry,” you sniffled, closing the book and trying your best to wrap it back in its protective covering. However your sloppy unwrapping job made it impossible to put back together. You gave up, flinging the ruined wrapping paper onto the ground, and finally allowed yourself to cry.

#do kyungsoo scenario #d.o scenario #kyungsoo scenario #exo scenario #kpop scenario #d.o. scenario #kpop scenarios #exo scenarios #thats my dragon

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im-genie-for-your-wish · 6 years ago

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“That’s my dragon.” [D.O.] (7/12)

Group: EXO Member: D.O Word Count: 664 (chapter) / 13156 (total) Summary: Do Kyungsoo, stereotypical brooding genius who doesn't really play any role in your life... Until Dame Boah declares the two of you must take care of an dragon egg together to see who gets the chance to become a full-fledged Dragon Rider. With the stakes raised sky high, you struggle with your newfound archnemesis and your tumultuous relationship with him, learning a little (a lot?) about yourself along the way. Tags: Enemies to lovers

Remember when you asked what Do Kyungsoo had done to deserve a friend like Park Chanyeol? You revoked and reversed your question. What had Park Chanyeol done to deserve a friend like Do Kyungsoo? Out of all your day to day activities, you now ranked visiting the nursery as your highest. If laughing really was good for your immune system, you gave yourself a clean bill of health after each visit. Kyungsoo’s hilarious jokes left you with aching sides.

He also cooked. The first time you nibbled on a scone he baked, you swear you saw heaven. After observing your reaction, he began to bring a full basket each day. You realized that certain aspects of your previous dislike were misunderstandings on your part. Kyungsoo just had horrible resting bitch face, glaring at anyone in a close vicinity—not just you—-and his face’s natural resting position seemed to be narrowed eyes. You noticed it whenever he read a novel or studied his notes.

Before you knew it, Do Kyungsoo wormed his way into your high regards. Your sharp barbs softened to witty banter. Your smirks transformed to smiles. Your snickers turned to giggles. You cared about his feelings.

“Oh, this sucks,” you grumbled into your pillow. As if to mock you, your wood carving clattered to the floor. You rolled out of bed and propped it up again, studying the unsteady base. For a beginner carving, your friend ranked it as satisfactory. You managed to capture the round curves of your egg—imaginatively named Pearl by you and Kyungsoo—but your foundation left room for improvement.

Whatever. You snatched up the cedar wood and stuffed it into your bag. Places to be, people to see.

“Happy birthday, Kyungsoo!” you exclaimed, shoving the bag into his hands. You stifled a laugh at the young man’s wide eyes and open mouth. “I asked Chanyeol when it was.” You nodded. “Well, aren’t you going to open it?”

Kyungsoo, bless his heart, still looked shell-shocked. You nabbed the sack and tore it away, holding the carving up to the light. Under the glowing orbs, its outer sheen glistened. Kyungsoo stared at the sculpture.

“What?” you asked, cradling it close to your chest. “If it’s bad, just say so. You don’t have to spare my—”

“It’s not bad.” Kyungsoo stepped forward and took the wooden egg from your hands. “It’s...wonderful.”

You threaded a strand of hair around your finger, tugging on it as a distraction. “Yeah, it’s not that good. It falls over when you put it on a flat surface. You don’t have to—”

“No, I mean it,” he interrupted, running one finger along the smooth surface, “it’s beautiful. Thank you.” The small smile he sent your way made the small cuts on your hand and dark bags under your eyes worth it. You stiffened as he stepped forward and hugged you. Kyungsoo embracing someone? Not unheard of, but before this your friendship had been relatively no contact.

You wrapped your arms around Kyungsoo, applying the barest bit of pressure as you touched his waist. Your nose prickled as the heady scent of wet pine filled the air. Pulling back, you inquired, “Did you go out riding this morning?”

Kyungsoo nodded and let go of your torso. The entire hug lasted less than a minute but somehow felt like it dragged on for much longer. “Sorry, do I smell?”

You opened your mouth to snark back that, yes, he smelled, and yes he should take a shower as soon as possible but closed it and instead shook your head. “No, not at all.”

The corner of his eyes crinkled as he smiled. “Good.”

The sentimental atmosphere in the room lingered as you sat down by the egg. Now that it was six months after its birth, the egg shell should be thinning. Each day you measured the shell thickness and wrote down the estimation in your notebook. Today you followed the exact same routine, but somehow the feeling was different.

#kyungsoo scenario #do kyungsoo scenario #exo scenario #d.o scenario #kpop scenario #kpop scenarios #exo scenarios #next chapter is wild guys #get ready for it

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im-genie-for-your-wish · 6 years ago

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“That’s my dragon.” [D.O.] (6/12)

Group: EXO Member: D.O Word Count: 823 (chapter) / 13156 (total) Summary: Do Kyungsoo, stereotypical brooding genius who doesn't really play any role in your life... Until Dame Boah declares the two of you must take care of an dragon egg together to see who gets the chance to become a full-fledged Dragon Rider. With the stakes raised sky high, you struggle with your newfound archnemesis and your tumultuous relationship with him, learning a little (a lot?) about yourself along the way. Tags: Enemies to lovers

You pulled up your glove, the overwhelming compulsion to itch at your hand drowning out any other thoughts. Kyungsoo stared at you from where he sat cradling the egg. He had long since abandoned his book in favor of observing your curious actions.

You glanced down at your hand and then up at the ceiling, trying to focus on the tile patterns. The more you tried to keep your mind off the stings on your hand, the more your brain screamed at you to itch the damn things!

“It’s your turn to hold the egg.” Kyungsoo’s soft voice was a welcome distraction.

“T-thanks,” you said, staring down at Kyungsoo’s feet as you held out your hands. Ever since Kyungsoo had gotten better, he had been a lot quieter around you. You weren’t sure yet whether that was a good thing or not, but you took the calmer atmosphere as a sign that you should try your best to be polite too. When Kyungsoo didn’t slide the egg into your hands, you looked up.

He scrutinized you with such intensity that you wondered if you’d forgotten to brush your hair this morning or had stray dragon scales from your morning grooming chore stuck to your face. You rubbed your face with the back of your glove and looked at the fabric. Nothing. “What is it?”

“How much do they itch?” he asked.

You feigned a confused expression. “What do you mean?”

Kyungsoo didn’t take his eyes off of you. You shifted from sitting cross-legged to sitting on your knees, unused to such dedicated attention from someone who hadn’t previously even given you the time of day.

“The stings,” he hissed, lips curving down into a frown. “I know that you gave me the porridge when I was sick. Chanyeol told me.”

“Damn Chanyeol and his big fat mouth,” you muttered, grabbing the egg from Kyungsoo’s grasp and sitting back down in a more comfortable position. You stroked the egg, focusing on its sleek exterior as you shrugged. “Not too bad.”

Kyungsoo rolled his eyes but said nothing. Instead he stood up and exited the room. That was fine with you. You leaned back against the wall, letting your head hit it with a thunk. The egg vibrated under your touch. “I know, I know.” You stripped off your gloves and placed your palm against the smooth surface. In response, the egg thrummed. Dragons were very much tactile creatures; it made sense that the egg would be displeased with you wearing gloves.

You glanced up as the nursery door opened. Kyungsoo bustled in, something large and unwieldy tucked under his cloak. He plopped down beside you, producing a large jar. When he unscrewed the lid, you grimaced.

“That is vile,” you gagged, pressing a discarded glove to your mouth.

Kyungsoo looked like he wanted to say something in reply, but he kept his mouth shut, unwilling to inhale any toxic fumes. With a heavy heart, he dipped his fingers in the gooey liquid and reached out toward you.

“Hold it!” You held the dragon egg above your head and shrank against the wall. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like?” replied Kyungsoo through gritted teeth.

You gaped at him. “How should I know?”

“Just”—he sucked in a deep breath and mentally counted to ten—“give me your hand, okay? Put the egg down.”

Well, you were at least 60% sure that Kyungsoo didn’t want to kill you. Setting down the dragon egg, you extended your hands. Kyungsoo unceremoniously slapped a dollop of salve on your puffiest sting.

“My mom sent me this,” he explained, rubbing circles around each individual mark on your right hand. “It’s made from fermented cabbage and dragon scales. It helps with swelling, itching, and scarring.” As he spoke, he dipped his fingers in the jar again and moved onto your left hand. His gentle touch sent sparks skittering down your spine. After finishing applying the balm, he bit his lip and began to massage your hand. “You have to rub it into the skin until it’s absorbed.”

If your jaw could drop any further, it would probably hit the ground. You opened your mouth to thank him and then snapped it shut. Your vocal cords tensed around the unspoken syllables. Things had changed between you and Kyungsoo; you were certain of it now. But this change left your head spinning. How were you supposed to act now around a person who you’d never seen in a kind light before? The cognitive dissonance sparked a headache. You closed your eyes and blurted, “Should we, um, try to be friends now or something?”

When you opened your eyes, Kyungsoo’s cheeks flushed a delicate shade of pink, and he stuck out his hand, not quite meeting your eyes. That was fine; you couldn’t meet his either. Your hand wrapped around his, tentative but warm, and when he squeezed, you squeezed back.

#do kyungsoo scenario #kyungsoo scenario #d.o. scenario #exo scenario #d.o scenario #exo scenarios #kpop scenario #kpop scenarios #the trope is finally coming into play

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im-genie-for-your-wish · 6 years ago

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“That’s my dragon.” [D.O.] (5/12)

Group: EXO Member: D.O Word Count: 1245 (chapter) / 13156 (total) Summary: Do Kyungsoo, stereotypical brooding genius who doesn't really play any role in your life... Until Dame Boah declares the two of you must take care of an dragon egg together to see who gets the chance to become a full-fledged Dragon Rider. With the stakes raised sky high, you struggle with your newfound archnemesis and your tumultuous relationship with him, learning a little (a lot?) about yourself along the way. Tags: Enemies to lovers

Kyungsoo didn’t show up the next day at the nursery or the day after that. By the end of the week, you admitted that you were worried about him.

“So just go talk to him.” Amber peeped at you from underneath the scroll she was reading on her bed. “You practically spend all your time together. It’s normal to have a bit of separation anxiety.”

You plunked your head down on the desk. “It’s not that easy. We don’t get along. He’ll just think I’m there to make fun of him or something. He won’t believe that I’m worried.” With a groan, you turned your head so that your cheek was smushed against the desk and your eyes faced Amber.

Your friend put down her magazine and sat up. “So what? Are you scared?”

“‘m not scared,” you mumbled. Even a hatchling European Acidwing could sniff out that that was a lie. You had done it; you had become one of those bullies you hated. You made fun of his books, purposely tried to make him leave places, and insulted him. You hurt Kyungsoo’s feelings, and now he was avoiding you.

Engrossed in your thoughts, you didn’t notice Amber’s movement until she flicked you on the forehead. “Don’t be a coward,” she said before beginning to whack you with her rolled up scroll.

“I’ll go! I’ll go!” You flinched underneath the rain of blows. “Just. Stop. Hitting. Me.” Holding your hands above your head, you ran into the hallway where you were safe from your crazy friend. “She must be crazy,” you muttered, smoothing out the wrinkles in your clothes as you set off toward the male quarters.

When you got here, you realized the flaw in your plan. You had absolutely no idea where Kyungsoo lived. If someone asked you, you probably would reply “the nursery” because that’s where he always was, but you knew that he must go somewhere to sleep. You rounded another corner, furrowing your brows as you stared at the tapestry. You swore you saw that fire-breathing dragon painting in another hallway. Did you just walk in a circle?

Catching a glimpse of a gaggle of boys, you sucked in a deep breath and approached.

“Yeah, he’s real sick.”

“Who would’ve thought? The great Do Kyungsoo can fall ill.” The man laughed, a short wheezing gasp that didn’t sound very friendly. “Maybe he’ll stay that way.”

Another person jumped in. “He has a shitty attitude, and people excuse it because he’s a genius. No, he’s just an asshole. They just need to accept it. I hate the way he glares at us as if we’re not worth his time…”

You cleared your throat. “Sorry, but isn’t it not very nice to talk about someone behind their back like that?” You hated how your voice cracked at the end of the sentence.

The leader of the group turned toward you. You vaguely recalled sitting a couple seats down from him in your arithmancy class. “You don’t need to pretend. Dame Boah can’t hear you here.” He patted your head, and you restrained yourself from slamming a fist into his gut. Even you knew that four versus one was an unfair fight. The leader continued, “Considering how you’ve been giving him hell lately—oh, don’t make that face. Word travels fast here—aren’t you being hypocritical?”

“I…” You trailed off, unable to argue. He spoke the truth. You even thought you were being a little hypocritical. How many times had you snarked about Kyungsoo behind his back to Amber? How many times had you gossiped about him in the girl’s bathroom?

“Besides, out of all the people who would benefit from him being sick, aren’t you the one with the most to gain? You should be happy.”

All right, that was enough. The fake smile the man across from you showed really irked you. You were winding back your hand for the first blow when someone grabbed your shoulder, pressing you tightly to their side. You wriggled, but it was no use. Your hand remained trapped, wedged between the two of your bodies.

“Yo, I’ve been looking for you forever.” Chanyeol smiled down at you, a warning glint in his eyes as he squeezed your shoulder. “What took you so long?”

“Got a little lost,” you gritted out, trying your best to move away from the giant. His grip remained strong. “I’m good now.”

“Great.” Chanyeol steered you away from the group of students, turning the corner. Two hallways later, he released his grip.

You let out a breath of relief. “I thought that you would never let go. You could have been a little gentler.” Rubbing your upper arm, you glared up at the tall man.

Chanyeol grinned. “You’re welcome,” he said, motioning toward the ajar door in front of you. You opened your mouth to ask him exactly what the hell he meant when he disappeared around the corner. Walking forward, you paused and then knocked on the door.

“Chanyeol?” Kyungsoo wheezed.

You froze and then nudged the door open. “It’s me.”

Kyungsoo sat up ramrod straight, holding a handkerchief over his mouth. “Shit, why are you here?”

“Thanks for the warm welcome,” you drawled, pulling up a wooden chair next to the bed and sitting down. You crossed your legs and arms. “You haven’t been to the nursery recently.”

Kyungsoo coughed, a harsh wet noise that sent you scooching your chair several inches back. “No shit,” he grumbled. “You should stay away.” He waved a hand at you. “You’ll get sick if you get too close, though that might even out the playing field.” The smirk he gave you didn’t quite pack a punch. “Bet you’ve been filling the egg with all sorts of lies about me while I was gone.”

You dropped your head to your knee, sucked in a deep breath. This was already going downhill. “Look,” you said, jerking your head upwards, “I’m just—you—I—” The knot in your throat grew larger as you struggled to force out sounds.

Kyungsoo narrowed his eyes. “Words. Use your words. You know those things we use for communica—” A wheezing fit interrupted Kyungsoo’s acrid words. Beads of sweat dripped down his face as he reached over to his nightstand and grabbed the glass of water set there. Out of all the people he thought to see at his door, he never expected you, and he didn’t have the energy to deal with you. “If you’re here to gloat, just leave.”

Your jaw dropped. “I’m not here to gloat. I’m here to…” To do what exactly? You really hadn’t thought this through. “Just get better soon!” you barked, leaping out of your seat and slamming the door closed behind you.

Exhausted and feverish, Kyungsoo decided not to dwell your actions and slept instead. He woke up later, disoriented and ravenous, as Chanyeol placed a cool towel on his forehead.

“What smells good?” he mumbled, turning his head toward his friend.

“Apple honey porridge.” Chanyeol held out a spoonful. “The apples are from the apothecary in town—they’re supposed to be filled with vitamin vitality— and the honey is hand harvested from the academy hives.”

Kyungsoo accepted the spoon, a shy smile spreading across his face. “You didn’t have to do that, Chanyeol.”

Chanyeol chuckled, continuing to feed Kyungsoo the porridge. It was only after the bowl was finished and Kyungsoo’s forehead towel was changed that he beamed at Kyungsoo and revealed, “It wasn’t me.”

#kyungsoo scenario #do kyungsoo scenario #exo scenario #kpop scenario #d.o. scenario #kpop scenarios #exo scenarios #thats my dragon #WE'RE GETTING TO THE GOOD PART GUYS

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im-genie-for-your-wish · 6 years ago

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“That’s my dragon.” [D.O.] (4/12)

Group: EXO Member: D.O Word Count: 521 (chapter) / 13156 (total) Summary: Do Kyungsoo, stereotypical brooding genius who doesn't really play any role in your life... Until Dame Boah declares the two of you must take care of an dragon egg together to see who gets the chance to become a full-fledged Dragon Rider. With the stakes raised sky high, you struggle with your newfound archnemesis and your tumultuous relationship with him, learning a little (a lot?) about yourself along the way. Tags: Enemies to lovers

Easier said than done. You had spent so much time arguing and ignoring Kyungsoo that you forgot how to interact with him like a normal person. He didn’t help either, with his side eyes and glares.

“What’s that you’re reading?” you asked, hoping to start a conversation. Now that it was around two months after the egg had been hatched, the two of you spent most of the time at the nursery, eagerly awaiting the egg’s first sign of sentience.

Kyungsoo snapped the book shut. “You can read the title from where you’re sitting.”

You gritted your teeth. “I know that. I mean why are you reading it and what’s it about.”

The wary expression of Kyungsoo’s face spoke to how strange this line of questioning was. For a second you thought he would ignore you, but he replied, “A book on the important life stages of a developing hatchling and how to best guide them throughout those stages.”

“Oh.” Now that you thought about it, you had no idea what happened after the egg was born. Sure, you had taken all the required classes, but none of those had gone into much detail.

Kyungsoo’s mouth pulled into a sneer. “I would suggest that you start reading too so that if the egg chooses you, which it won’t, you’ll at least be a minute bit prepared.”

“Why do you always do that?” you demanded. “Assume that it’ll choose you. Because if I were the egg in this situation, I’d rather choose me than some arrogant snarky bas—”

Kyungsoo held up a hand, and you felt the pressure building up in your chest. You opened your mouth to scream and then stopped. The egg glowed a bright angry shade of red. All the wind blew out from your lungs in one long exhale.

“Is that…”

“Yes.” Kyungsoo moved closer to the egg. The red began to dim, blending into a pale shade of blue. “It likes me!” His delighted voice grated your nerves.

“It doesn’t like you.”

“Yes, it does. Look at the color idiot.” Kyungsoo pointed at the egg. The smile fell off of his face. The blue egg now began to rapidly turn to red again.

“Ha,” you crowed. “It doesn’t like you. It likes me.” You moved closer as well, smiling as the color of the egg changed. When you picked it up, it was a lovely shade of sky blue. “See.” You turned to Kyungsoo with a triumphant expression and then fell silent.

You had seen Kyungsoo angry before. You had seen Kyungsoo scared before. Hell you had even seen Kyungsoo happy that one time you had spotted him with Chanyeol in the corridors, but you had never seen an expression quite like this. Wide-eyed, mouth slightly downturned, lips pressed together into a tight line, nose scrunched, fluttering eyelashes. It looked like he was about to cry.

“Kyungsoo?”

“I’m leaving,” he said, stuffing his book into his bag as he all but ran out of the nursery.

You stared down at the egg. “That was weird.” The egg flashed different colors as if in agreement to your statement.

#kyungsoo scenario #d.o scenario #do kyungsoo scenario #exo scenario #exo scenarios #kpop scenario #kpop scenarios #thats my dragon

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im-genie-for-your-wish · 6 years ago

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“That’s my dragon.” [D.O.] (3/12)

Group: EXO Member: D.O Word Count: 1215 (chapter) / 13156 (total) Summary: Do Kyungsoo, stereotypical brooding genius who doesn't really play any role in your life... Until Dame Boah declares the two of you must take care of an dragon egg together to see who gets the chance to become a full-fledged Dragon Rider. With the stakes raised sky high, you struggle with your newfound archnemesis and your tumultuous relationship with him, learning a little (a lot?) about yourself along the way. Tags: Enemies to lovers

“She’s totally crazy.” Kyungsoo gnawed on his thumbnail, and his steps grew louder and louder as he trudged down the hallway.

Chanyeol patted his friend on the shoulder. “I think you’re one step away from having a nervous breakdown. You need to calm down.”

Kyungsoo’s footsteps grew even louder. “I can’t! I can’t relax as long as she’s there, and she’s always there like every mome—”

“She also has a right to the egg,” reminded Chanyeol. He was used to being the voice of reason during Kyungsoo’s freak-outs. “Look, forget about it. We’re going to have a good time going out because you’ve spent so much time in the nursery that I’m worried you might turn into an egg.”

“Fine.” Kyungsoo forced himself to relax, sucking in deep breath after deep breath. “How was mucking out the stables after Dame Boah caught you and Jongdae trying to prank the newcomers?”

Faced with Chanyeol’s bright smile and soothing voice, Kyungsoo calmed down. By the time they reached the tavern, he felt downright mellow. And then he walked in and saw you. You obviously hadn’t noticed him yet, judging from the giant grin plastered on your face. You never smiled like that with him, barely showed any other expression other than a smirk or tight-lipped frown. What had you laughing so hard now?

“No way.” Your husky voice travelled across the room crystal clear. Kyungsoo was sure that he’d be able to pick you out of a crowd of a thousand voices by this point since he’d heard you complain and nag so often.

“That her?” Chanyeol peered over Kyungsoo’s shoulder. “She doesn’t look too bad.”

“Neither do you,” snapped Kyungsoo as he slunk toward the other end of the bar. You still hadn’t noticed him yet which surprised him. Usually by this time you would glare at him and throw a sarcastic quip his way. Something had grabbed your attention.

Someone, Kyungsoo corrected himself as he watched you lean over and touch the bicep of the person sitting across from you.

Chanyeol observed the scene, an amused smile playing over his lips. “You know if you stare any harder your eyeballs might fall out of your head.”

“Who’s staring?” Kyungsoo muttered, accepting the drink Chanyeol handed him without protest. “It’s just nice to know that she’s annoying other people too.”

“Right”—Chanyeol raised up both hands to form air quotes—“annoying them. They don’t look so annoyed to me.” As if to prove his point, the person across from you threw back their head and guffawed, drawing the attention of several nearby bar occupants. “You didn’t tell me she was funny.”

“She’s not.” Distracted by your antics, Kyungsoo took a large swig of his drink and burst out coughing. “Shit, Chanyeol, what’s in this?” Chanyeol began to list off a rather large number of alcohols, and Kyungsoo shook his head. “Whatever.” He turned his attention back to the drink, rotating his body so that he faced toward Chanyeol and away from you, and decided to ignore you the rest of the night. He should’ve known better than to think he could accomplish such a task.

In the middle of recounting an unsavory tale of cow dung and flaking dragon scales, Chanyeol’s eyes widened. Kyungsoo felt the sigh bubble up from his chest before it left his throat. He refused to turn around.

“Uh,” Chanyeol squeaked as the sound of splintering wood and high-pitched screaming filled the air, “I think your friend might be in trouble.”

“She’s not my friend,” Kyungsoo said even as he slipped out of his chair and made his way toward the scene.

“Touch her one more time!” You shook off the restraining hands of well-meaning onlookers and kicked the stool in front of you again. The man before you cowered. He held up his hands, mumbling about forgiveness. The barmaid was long gone. No doubt she had ran the instant you had shoved the man off his chair, unwilling to lose her job over a slight that was considered “part of the industry.”

“I’m not interested in your excuses.” You dragged the man up by his collar, flexing your arms as you did so. You spent your days wrangling dragons; dealing with a civilian was no problem. “You don’t touch the women working here. Got it?” A slight tightening of your fist caused the man to nod. “Good.” You dropped him, unwilling to deal with the issue any longer.

When you spun around and saw Kyungsoo, you couldn’t help but groan. “You always turn up at the worst times, don’t you?”

Kyungsoo dropped a coin purse onto the counter as he bowed and apologized to the terrified manager behind the counter. So despite your good intentions, you still came out looking like the bad guy. You reached for your own coin purse—you could pay for your own mistakes—when a large hand swept down in front of you.

Park Chanyeol gave you a bright smile as he spoke your name. “I’ve heard so much about you. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

You pushed past your confusion and shook his hand. “Likewise.”

Later on, after you had begrudgingly thanked Kyungsoo and went on your merry way back home, you wondered how exactly Do Kyungsoo had landed a friend like Park Chanyeol. Chanyeol was everything he wasn’t—tall, bright, talkative, beautiful smile, kind eyes. What kind of sorcery had Kyungsoo cast to make this friendship happen?

Chanyeol burst out laughing when you asked him. “You know Kyungsoo’s actually a nice guy if you can believe it.”

“I can’t.” Your blood boiled just at the thought of him. The two of you had fallen into a cold war after the incident at the bar. He refused to take his money back no matter how many places you hid the coins. In your desperation, you asked Chanyeol to meet you so that he could give the money to Kyungsoo instead.

Chanyeol’s dragon, a young flighty Asian Wyrm named Toben, snorted in amusement. His hot breath stank of rotten meat.

“You have got to rinse after your meal,” you chided the dragon.

“Toben’s offended,” Chanyeol said. He moved to the opposite side as he continued to rub down the black dragon’s scales. “He says that he rinses in the river after every meal.”

Not good enough, you thought, but you didn’t voice it out loud. You weren’t here to antagonize Chanyeol’s dragon. “Could you just give him this?” You lobbed the bag of money over Toben’s long neck. “Please?”

The jingling of coins signaled to you that Chanyeol caught the bag. “All right on one condition.”

You froze in the middle of your sneaky exit.

“You gotta stop giving my friend such a hard time.” Chanyeol’s usually light tone turned serious. “I know that you probably have your backstory, but Kyungsoo does too. All I’m saying is try to get to know him some. You might find that he’ll surprise you.”

You heaved out a sigh. “Fine.” Chanyeol was right; you hadn’t bothered to get to know Kyungsoo at all because from your first interaction, you had labeled him as unredeemable. But you had your reasons to hold onto this dragon egg and so did Kyungsoo. It would only be fair to try and get to know them.

#d.o scenario #kyungsoo scenario #exo scenario #exo scenarios #do kyungsoo scenario #kpop scenario #kpop scenarios #thats my dragon

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im-genie-for-your-wish · 6 years ago

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“That’s my dragon.” [D.O.] (2/12)

Group: EXO Member: D.O Word Count: 788 (chapter) / 13156 (total) Summary: Do Kyungsoo, stereotypical brooding genius who doesn't really play any role in your life... Until Dame Boah declares the two of you must take care of an dragon egg together to see who gets the chance to become a full-fledged Dragon Rider. With the stakes raised sky high, you struggle with your newfound archnemesis and your tumultuous relationship with him, learning a little (a lot?) about yourself along the way. Tags: Enemies to lovers

“He’s totally crazy.” Amber massaged the sweet scented oil into your scalp as she clucked her tongue. “You’ve waited just as long as him, if not longer. He really doesn’t have a right to demand that for you.”

You closed your eyes and allowed your shoulders to relax. The tension headache throbbing behind your temple eased up a bit. “I know right? Thanks for the help. My arms are just killing me.” Clutching onto Bam’s reins for the better part of a day made for sore hands and forearms.

Amber grinned and patted your head. “Anytime.”

As her ministrations continued, you allowed your mind to wander. “Do you think Kyungsoo has his friends do this?”

“A scalp massage?” asked Amber. She snorted. “Not likely.”

“Not the scalp massage, though that is great. Thanks again. The whole helping him destress thing. He has to be human too, right?” You tried to think back to a time where you had witnessed Kyungsoo stressed out. The only images that popped into your head were those of him barely smiling, staring into the distance with narrowed eyes.

“The great Do Kyungsoo does not get stressed,” Amber said in a tone of voice that reminded you of a follower worshipping their cult leader.

You shuddered. “Please don’t do that again.”

“I won’t,” your friend promised, removing her hands from your head. “There. Now get out of my room I want to sleep.”

After leaving Amber’s room, you weighed the pros and cons of going to bed. On the one hand, your body ached, and a good night’s rest would do wonders for your skin. On the other hand, the night was young, and you knew Kyungsoo’s exact location. It didn’t surprise you a bit when you entered the nursery and saw the man sitting cross-legged beside the egg.

Your attention, however, focused on more important things such as just how beautiful the egg actually was. It sparkled underneath the glowing light orbs in the room, its coloring a mix of pale jade fading into periwinkle. Unlike most dragon eggs, your egg was formed like a perfect spherical pearl rather than a teardrop.

“Kyungsoo,” you acknowledged, settling down to sit on the egg’s other side. After your last encounter, you vowed to stake your claim. Just because you weren’t a prodigy didn’t mean that you weren’t worthy. You worked hard to get to where you were, and you weren’t about to let it all go down the drain.

The two of you sat in silence for a while before your itch to move grew too strong. You reached out toward the egg only to snatch your hand back when Kyungsoo intercepted your path.

“You’re not supposed to disturb the egg until a month has passed since its birth.” He gave you a look that you interpreted as, “Dumbass. We learned this in Introductory Dragon Biology.”

You placed your hand on your knee, gathering up a bunch of fabric between your fingers and tightening your grip. “I know that.” You just wanted to touch it so badly, to remind yourself that this was real. Instead you settled for drumming your fingers lightly against your knee.

Kyungsoo’s eyebrow twitched. Oh? Perhaps you had found a chink in his impenetrable armor. You tapped your fingers even harder, making sure to hit directly on the bone of your knee.

“Stop it,” he hissed after an agonizing few seconds. “You’re disturbing the egg.”

“More like disturbing you,” you retorted. “I think the egg likes it.” That was a total lie, of course. Dragon eggs did not develop communication abilities until two months after birth, so there was no way to tell how the little baby dragon was feeling. You continued to move your fingers. Kyungsoo endured this torture for another thirty minutes before he got up, gave a small huff, and left.

1-0, you thought with a triumphant smile even as you rubbed your leg, hoping to get rid of the strange tingling sensations radiating from your kneecap.

This conflict between you and Kyungsoo continued for the next month. You began wearing kneepads in an attempt to try and protect the abused area. Once your knees became too sore, you switched over to tapping on wood carvings you borrowed from friends. In return Kyungsoo brought books. Not fun books but boring dry books such as The Evolution of Dragon Scales in Medieval Times Potion-Making: A Very Brief History—spoiler alert: it wasn’t a brief history; it was a very very long and redundant history—which he read out loud in a booming voice that you really hadn’t expected coming from such a quiet person.

To be honest, you were losing your mind. You could only hope that Do Kyungsoo was too.

#d.o scenario #Kyungsoo Scenario #exo scenario #exo scenarios #do kyungsoo scenario #kpop scenario #kpop scenarios #thats my dragon

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im-genie-for-your-wish · 6 years ago

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Hi~could you please write an Exo reaction to their gf being stressed out and sad because her grades are dropping and she feels like a failure? Thanks~💗

He looks at you with a steady but warm gaze that promises nothing but love and affection and reaches out. If you move forward, he envelops you in a gentle hug. If you stay put, he takes a few steps toward you and wraps an arm around your shoulder. Either way, he presses his lips to your head in a gesture of comfort and murmurs, "As long as you're trying your best, that's all that matters." And then he cups your face and smiles. It's the type of smile that washes your worries away, the type of smile that begets the upturning of your lips in return. "You’re not a failure," he whispers, running a soothing hand down your back, "and I will always support you. You know that."

#microfill #ask #grades don't determine your worth #they're just a number #you are made of many more things than just a number #Anonymous

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im-genie-for-your-wish · 6 years ago

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“That’s my dragon.” [D.O.] (1/12)

Group: EXO Member: D.O Word Count: 831 (chapter) / 13156 (total) Summary: Do Kyungsoo, stereotypical brooding genius who doesn't really play any role in your life... Until Dame Boah declares the two of you must take care of an dragon egg together to see who gets the chance to become a full-fledged Dragon Rider. With the stakes raised sky high, you struggle with your newfound archnemesis and your tumultuous relationship with him, learning a little (a lot?) about yourself along the way. Tags: Enemies to lovers

The wind roared past your ears as you ducked down, narrowly avoiding a collision with a tree branch. “Easy, Bam,” you murmured, pressing a hand against the dragon’s sleek black scales. “It’s not a race.” You weren’t lying per se; technically you were out flying on a training exercise, but the rider who finished first would no doubt impress the crowd watching.

Bam veered around the final curve, wings clipping the edge of the cliff. The ensuing shower of rocks sent you into a coughing fit. You blinked away the tears in your eyes and leaned forward. “Come on, darling, we’ve nearly got this.” The steep dive still managed to send your stomach flipping, but you kept a smile pasted on your face as you landed.

Boah clapped her hands as you hopped off Bam’s back and took a bow. “Very impressive, young one, but I’m afraid you weren’t the fastest one to finish.”

Your heart sank. “Dame Boah, who was the fastest to finish?”

Instead of answering your question directly, Boah nodded her head toward the edge of the training clearing. You looked. The indistinct figure moved toward you. When the person finally came into focus, you suppressed a groan.

“Do Kyungsoo,” you greeted.

Said man gave you the barest nod in response. He didn’t even speak your name. “Dame Boah, may I be excused now?”

Boah laughed, a tinkling sound that filled the air and drew the attention of all dragons in the vicinity. She stroked Bam’s snout as the large dragon lumbered forward. “Both of you are more than qualified to have your own dragon now. Though Bam here seems quite fond of you.”

“I’m quite fond of Bam,” you replied, walking forward and patting the dragon’s hide. Despite your non-existent telepathic connection with the black Asian Longwing, the two of you did quite well as a team. However, you still yearned for that special day when you would receive your own dragon egg. The feeling of raising a dragonet and becoming a full-fledged rider…that was one of the main reasons you decided to come to the academy.

Turning toward Kyungsoo, Boah extended one hand. He kneeled and grasped it delicately. “And this young one has quite a bit of talent.”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. Blah blah blah. You’d heard it all before. Do Kyungsoo, one of the most prodigious candidates of your rider class, and also one of the most stereotypical genius types you’d ever met. Quiet, sullen, and inflexible. Those were the three words you would use to describe your classmate. He kept a small exclusive friend group in the form of his riding clan EXO. Anyone else who attempted to get close to him was shot down, sometimes in a quite painful fashion.

“Dame Boah, who will receive the honor of the new dragon egg?” you asked, shifting from one foot to another. You had places to go and people to see.

Kyungsoo gave you a dull stare. “Dame Boah will decide when she is ready.”

You stared right back. No matter how powerful his friends may be or how smart he really was, you were willing to fight for this opportunity.

Boah sliced her hand downward in one sharp chopping motion. “No need to argue. I have come to my decision.”

Both you and Kyungsoo turned expectant gazes toward her.

“The two of you shall take care of the dragon egg together. Once the dragonet is born, it shall decide who its next rider shall be.” At your shocked expression, Boah chuckled. “Such is tradition. I received my first dragon this way. The dragon chooses the rider, not the other way around, and both of you are ready. I would not deny either of you the chance to become a rider.”

Kyungsoo bowed so low that you thought his waist might break. “Thank you for this opportunity, Dame Boah.”

You scrambled to follow his example. Bowing deeply, you murmured your thanks. Even after Dame Boah dismissed the two of you, the cogs in your brain still whirred. “Wait,” you said, grabbing onto Kyungsoo’s elbow in the hallway. For someone not that much taller than you, he walked fast.

The way he looked down at you made your blood boil. You gritted your teeth. “We should make a schedule. You know to determine when who visits the nursery to take care of the egg. That way the time distribution will be fai—hey!” You jolted forward as Kyungsoo began walking.

“No need,” the man said. “That’s my dragon.”

You dug your heels in, forcing the two of you to stop. “Excuse me?”

“I said”—Kyungsoo shook off your hand.—“that’s my dragon.” He turned toward you, looking down at the ground. “It’s nothing against you personally. I’ve just waited long enough for this moment, so please”—here he bowed once again—“let me have this dragon.”

And there was really only one thing you could say to that. “Are you crazy?”

#d.o scenario #Kyungsoo Scenario #exo scenario #exo scenarios #kyungsoo scenarios #kpop scenario #kpop scenarios #enjoy this quasi-fantasy AU as an early end of year present!#enemies to lovers #D.O #Kyungsoo #EXO #i enjoyed this trope much more than i thought i would #thats my dragon

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im-genie-for-your-wish · 6 years ago

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Perception [Kai]

Group: EXO Member: Kai Word Count: 8516 Summary: He's your best friend's ex-boyfriend. You are a huge sucker for cute things and have a tendency to overthink. When you realize Kim Jongin’s smile is one of the cutest things you’ve ever seen, your life suddenly gets a whole lot more complicated.

You and Soojung have been best friends ever since she shoved you off of the jungle gym at age four and broke your arm. In the ensuing chaos of raised voices, pointed fingers, and much high-pitched wailing, Soojung grasped your uninjured hand and whispered, “I’m sowwy.”

And you, ever the sucker for cuteness even when you were a child, crumbled like a piece of wet paper. While your arm was stuck in a cast, Soojung made a point to come over and play with you in the sandbox whenever you came to the park.

Being seated next to her in your kindergarten class solidified your friendship for the years to come. The two of you became thick as thieves, and when the two of you ended up at the same college, no one batted an eyelash.

Of course, remaining close with someone for this long involved a healthy dose of respect and communication. Soojung was the first person you told about your parent’s divorce, sobbing over the phone at two in the morning. That was the night she snuck out, “borrowed” her sister’s car, and sat with you at the edge of the river, skipping rocks over the black water. Conversely, you were the first one to know about Soojung’s falling out and subsequent reconciliation with her sister.

You were also the first person to learn about her relationship with Kim Jongin. Honestly, you approved of the match. Looks-wise, he was one of the few men you thought could measure up to Soojung’s delicate beauty. Personality-wise, he didn’t seem to be a fuck boy, which was enough for you after Soojung’s previous boyfriend. Over the year they dated, Soojung was happy. She smiled brightly, laughed lots, and even made some new friends who saw past her so-called “cold” exterior.

So when they broke up, of course you were sad. Because Soojung was sad. And that was the last you thought you would see of Kim Jongin. That was until now.

You knew you probably looked like a fish out of water with your off-white sneakers and baggy college t-shirt, but when Soojung had signed you up for a year of hip hop dance classes, you hadn’t known what to expect. You certainly hadn’t expected her ex to be your teacher.

“Oh hey,” you said brightly. After all, their break-up was a year behind you, right? No need to be awkward. “Long time no see.”

Jongin seemed to have recovered from the initial shock as well because he offered you a half-smile. “Nice to see you again. How have you been?”

Your palms began to sweat as the small talk continued. This was turning out to be more awkward than the time you had clogged your group member’s toilet while working on a final project. At least then you had an out (even though you were sure he had known exactly who clogged his toilet). Now you were stuck with this for at least half a year. You itched to whip out your phone, snap a picture of Jongin, and send it to Soojung. “Do you get many students usually?” you asked politely.

Jongin coughed. “No, actually I’m not really an instructor. I’m just doing one of the other instructors a favor. Jimin—that’s his name—really wanted to teach the advanced class this year, so I—”

“You got stuck with the beginners.” You nodded, giving Jongin a sympathetic smile. Your boss had just stuck you with training the new recruits, and sometimes you really had to squint at them to figure out why they’d been hired.

A chime from your phone sent your gaze to the screen, and you realized that almost twenty minutes had passed from meaningless small talk. Jongin seemed to have come to the same realization as he straightened his back and officially started the class.

You spent the rest of the hour cursing the name Kim Jongin. When it came to dance, that man did not mess around. His razor sharp focus meant your usual floppy movements didn’t cut it. He also didn’t skip the basics. You hadn’t stretched that much since high school gym class, and your legs would feel it in the morning. By the end of the class, you had come to the conclusion that Jongin was—

“A demon. Totally a demon.” You shrugged off your purse and kicked off your tennis shoes. “At least some sort of low level devil.”

Soojung barely glanced up from her laptop. “Weird, I didn’t know that he was a dance instructor. Last I heard he was working for Samsung.”

“Yeah, wasn’t his major in business administration or something?” You stripped off your drenched t-shirt and dropped it in the laundry bin. Was it even humanly possible to sweat this much?

“So how’d he look?”

Soojung’s light tone caught your attention, and you glanced over at your friend. She sat in front of her laptop, cross-legged with her black hair piled into a messy bun, looking exactly like those “late night studying” aesthetic posts you used to reblog back when you still cared about grades.

You tread carefully. “He looked healthy. Like how a dance instructor would look.”

“Mhmm,” Soojung murmured, dropping the topic.

Internally you heaved a sigh of relief. You weren’t blind. Anyone could see just how attractive Jongin was, but you weren’t about to tell Soojung, “Hey, by the way you ex looks super hot and buffed up a lot.” Instead you settled for plopping down in the chair across from your roommate. “Any chance I could get a refund on those classes?”

“No.”

So the dance classes continued, and after the first three weeks, you could finally say with a straight face that, despite your mom’s continuous assertions you had two left feet, you nailed the simple routine Jongin had you learn.

Dripping with sweat, red-cheeked, and bright-eyed, you howled with satisfaction and pumped your fist into the air. “Yes! Yes! Did you see that?” You turned to Jongin who was clapping and then instinctively flung yourself at him for a hug.

The moment his arms wrapped around your torso you knew you had made a mistake. Jongin smelled like dried sweat and deodorant, which under no circumstances should be considered an attractive scent, but the stirring of desire in your reptilian hindbrain set out to prove you wrong. You allowed yourself one more second of enjoying the feel of his back underneath your palms before pulling back.

“Good job!” Jongin praised, and his smile could light up the sun.

Oh no. Oh no, he’s not just hot. He’s cute. As Jongin’s smile widened and he began to talk about the next routine you would learn (complete with a twirl demonstration), the smoldering in your chest intensified.

You didn’t tell Soojung about your crush. Not because you were afraid or anything (though you still remembered The Great Jinri Freeze-out) but because you didn’t believe it was really a crush. Obviously you had just not slept with someone in a long (relatively speaking) time, and the hormones were getting to you.

So you did what any virile young woman would do. You got all dolled up and went to a club.

Ten minutes after entering, you immediately regretted your decision. Your first mistake had been agreeing to go with Jinri (lovely girl but still riding the high of college parties). Your second mistake had been letting Soojung flake on you—“I have this huge portfolio to present to my clients next week. Go without me.” Your third mistake had been not checking whether Jinri’s boyfriend would be coming along.

Now you were stuck dancing at the edge of an obvious two person grind train with an overpriced drink in hand, trying to vibe to the music, but the beat was too slow, and the bass was turned up way too high even for your comfort.

“I’m going to get another drink!” you yelled at Jinri. If there was one thing you learned from college, it was more alcohol made parties more fun...right? Without checking to see if Jinri had heard you or not, you made your way to the bar only to find yourself stuck behind a swarm of humans.

“We need another plague,” you muttered just as someone tapped you on the shoulder. You whirled around and—”Wow.” The word slipped out before you could bite your tongue. With his slicked back hair and tight jeans, Jongin looked good.

“Rum and coke,” he said.

You took the drink and took a long sip before remembering that you absolutely hated rum. “Not bad.” You narrowly avoided being stampeded by a hoard of college-aged girls, pressing in closer to Jongin as they forced their way through the crowd beside you. His hand came to rest on your shoulder, hot against your sticky skin.

“Want to dance?”

His sudden breath against your ear sent a chill down your spine. This was definitely not what you had in mind when you came out to the club, but you weren’t averse to this idea. Spurred on by a sudden wave of bravery (probably from the alcohol to be honest), you grabbed Jongin’s hand and led him out to the dance floor. Club dancing you could do; it was all in the hips.

Jongin apparently knew this very well. Each tantalizing roll of his hips brought yours closer to his, quickly cutting down on the wide berth of space you had left on purpose between the two of you. You stepped away. Jongin immediately stopped dancing.

“You okay?” he asked, biting his lip. He looked so concerned that you felt your heart ache.

Please don’t do that, you thought as you replied, “I’m fine. I’m just…” You trailed off, looking for a good excuse. “I haven’t danced in a while, so I’m not sure if I’m any good.”

Jongin laughed, the cutest damn laugh you’d ever heard. “It’s not class. I’m not judging you. Besides”—Here he patted your shoulder encouragingly—“dancing is about how you feel, not what other people think.”

“There you are!”

You’d never been so happy to see Jinri in your life. Ignoring her confused glances, you bid a rushed farewell to Jongin and dragged Jinri to the bathroom.

“Okay, spill,” she said once the door shut behind the two of you. “Wasn’t that—”

“Jongin,” you interrupted, sucking in a deep breath. “He’s my dance instructor for those hip hop lessons that Soojung bought me.”

Jinri frowned as she reapplied her lipstick in front of a rather dingy mirror. “So the two of you became close.”

You didn’t appreciate her inflection on the word “close.” Then again, you were sure the scene on the dance floor looked...questionable at best.

“Whatever.” Jinri snapped shut her blush container and shrugged. “But if you like him, you should tell Soojung. You’re her best friend.”

Jinri was right, of course, so you put on your big girl pants and behaved like an adult. You apologized to Jongin for ditching him so suddenly, danced with him at a respectable distance apart, kept Jinri from drinking too much, and retired before the clock hit one.

“I’ll take her home,” Jinri’s boyfriend said, putting a hand on the young woman’s back to balance her.

You waved goodbye to your inebriated friend and pulled out your phone. Scrolling through the recent texts quickly painted a clear picture. Soojung was just too stressed out to pick you up, so you would just have to make your own way home, which was fine except for the awful surge pricing occurring at the moment.

The sound of your name made you pause right before you clicked on the button to request your ride, and you turned around to come face to face with Jongin again. His tall frame sent your heart racing.

“I’ll add a stop onto my ride. It’s dangerous to ride alone this late at night.”

You opened your mouth to argue—you had ridden home by yourself many times perfectly fine—but Jongin’s tender expression made you hold your tongue. “Thanks,” you murmured. “I’ll spot you another time.”

Jongin looked down at you and smiled. “Another time then.”

How had you not realized how damn cute he was? Maybe because, your mind supplied, you never bothered to get to know him in college. You now realized that your blind avoidance of getting to know Soojung’s boyfriends led you to missing out on a friendship with a genuinely kind person. You had always imagined Jongin’s personality as confident, bordering on cocky, but you now knew that you were wrong. He was confident in his dancing ability, yes, but he never once put you down while you were learning. And he obviously had a heart of gold considering he was footing this charge for you.

You spent the car ride in silence, stewing over how fast your crush had developed and how exactly you would broach the subject with Soojung. In fact you were so distracted that you nearly missed it when the car pulled to a stop in front of you apartment building.

“Hey,” Jongin said as you exited the door. You leaned back down to look at him. He bit his lip (a beautiful habit in your humble opinion) and continued, “You seemed a little off tonight. You okay?”

A seed of warmth blossomed in your chest. “I’m fine, just a little tired. Thanks for asking though.” You said your final goodbyes and made your way into your apartment, fully expecting the living room to be empty. Though there were no lights on, the pale glow of Soojung’s laptop cast an eerie shade over her tear-streaked face.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, sitting on the couch cushion next to her and flicking on a lamp. In the lamp’s bright light, her face looked even more wrecked. She had been crying for a while.

Soojung took in one shaky breath before launching on her tirade. “My boss doesn’t respect me or my ideas. I knew fashion would be hard, but working for a sleazebag was not on my list of things to accomplish when I was in my twenties.” She turned to you and pulled you into a limp hug. “I gave up everything to join this industry, and now I wonder if this was even what I was meant to do. I’m busy all the time, so I never have time to hang out with friends. I spend hours slaving over new designs only for clients to completely skip over mine and only look at the more experienced employees. I have so much to give, and they’re just not, just not—They don’t understand; nobody listens to me—”

You hushed your friend before she could become a hiccupping mess. “They’ll see,” you insisted. “It’ll just take time.”

“I don’t have unlimited time,” Soojung replied, but she gave you a weak smile. “Sorry, it’s just that…” This time your friend trailed off.

“Just that what?” you prompted gently.

“Do you believe in fate?”

You thought about all the heads-over-heels moments you had experienced when you thought it was “fate” leading you to someone. “I don’t know,” you answered honestly. “Sometimes.”

Soojung reached over for a tissue and began to dab at her eyes. “Me too, but I’ve been thinking about it a lot recently. I think it was fate that Jongin ended up being your dance instructor. Hear me out.” Here she raised up a hand. “He wasn’t even supposed to be teaching anyone this year, but he ended up randomly taking a student for one of his friends that just so happened to be you. So many coincidences that just happened to mesh together. What do you think?”

The questioning tone in her last sentence sent all of the conversation starters you had carefully planned out in the car straight into the trash bin. You took a deep breath. You were an adult now; you should be able to have a real conversation about your feelings with your best friend. Communication is key, you reminded yourself as you steeled your courage. “Actually Soojung, I kind of like Jongin now, I think? Well, not think, pretty sure I have a crush on him.” You winced at how badly your phrasing was, but the sentence was already out in the open. You couldn’t take it back now.

Soojung blinked. Once. Twice. And then she began to laugh.

You couldn’t move, absolutely terrified by what this meant. In all the scenarios you had went through in your mind, not one of them involved her bursting into laughter.

“Of course, you like him. He’s got a nice face, nice body, nice personality.” Soojung lobbed her used tissue into a nearby trash can. “What girl wouldn’t like him?” She leaned forward and patted your cheek with a fond touch.

“O-okay.” Somehow you felt like the meaning of your words had been twisted in the conversation, but you weren’t quite sure how to fix it. Despite your valiant effort to be honest, the truth remained obscured. You hastily made a strategic retreat to your room and formulated a new game plan. Crushes were built partially on proximity, so if you limited the amount of time you spent near Jongin, it would probably disappear.

You tried to keep your distance from Jongin; you really did. You came to dance class exactly when it began so that there wouldn’t be any time before to converse. You left dance class almost immediately after it ended, citing a busy work schedule. You even started flirting with the cute deliveryman, hoping that it would distract your attention.

It was to no avail. Jongin’s eyesmile still made your heart skip a beat. Each time he guided your arm to demonstrate a movement you yearned to grab his hand.

“Like this.” Jongin demonstrated the movement for you once again.

You struggled to follow his feet movements. “This may be the limit of how much I can learn,” you said wryly as you attempted the crossover once again.

“Watch out!” Jongin said, grabbing your arm as you stumbled. As he steadied you, he winced.

You straightened up. “Are you all right?”

Jongin didn’t reply. Instead he pressed one hand to his waist. “Sorry,” he said through gritted teeth. “It’s just an old injury.”

“You’re hurt?” You couldn’t help the worry that wormed its way into your tone, and you suddenly felt guilty for all those times you had leaned on Jongin for support during your classes.

Jongin grinned, but the expression quickly morphed into one of pain. “Sometimes it flares up when I practice, but it’s nothing. Let’s continue.”

You gaped at him. “Continue?” The poor man was barely standing up straight, and he still expected to continue teaching you? No way. “Wait here.” You ran out to the hallway and hurriedly inserted your credit card into the vending machine. How many bottles of water would be enough? When you dumped your load of water bottles and snacks onto the ground of the practice room, Jongin put one hand over his face and began to laugh.

“Jerk,” you muttered, opening a water bottle for yourself. “Watch me be worried about you again.” You sputtered as Jongin snatched the bottle out of your hands and began drinking from it himself.

The bob of his Adam’s apple, the curve of his neck, the smile he gave you after he finished the drink—all of Kim Jongin electrified you. You rested your head against the cool plane of the mirror behind you and let your eyes slip shut, desperate for some relief from Jongin’s constant visual onslaught. The sound of shuffling shoes and the heat by your side signalled that Jongin had moved positions as well.

“I’m the student, right?” Your lips quirked into a mischievous smile. “So if I say that I want a break, then the instructor has to give me a break.”

An amicable silence fell across the room, and you lost track of time. You only realized you had fallen asleep when Jongin’s insistent shaking of your shoulder woke you up. “How long was I out?” you asked blearily, rubbing your eyes.

Jongin’s low chuckle sent sparks running down your spine. “Fifteen minutes top.”

“That’s the end of our lesson,” you blurted out, frowning. “We didn’t even finish learning the routine.”

“You’re exhausted.” He reached forward and brushed away a strand of your hair that had fallen out of your ponytail. The simple gesture took you back to your high school days when a single touch from your crush sent your pulse racing and made your palms sweaty. This was ridiculous; you were an adult now. You shouldn’t be feeling these lovesick emotions.

As you packed up your bag, you were acutely aware of Jongin’s eyes following your every move. This was...interesting. “Yes?” you said, turning toward him.

Jongin looked uncharacteristically shy, eyes glancing around the room and never quite focusing on you. “I was wondering how, um, ah, how do I ask it?”

And despite the fact that you were 99% sure that Jongin didn’t think of you in that way, your imagination ran wild. You clasped the strap of your purse tightly and waited for him to continue. His next words crushed whatever small hope you had.

“Is Soojung doing okay? She texted me the other day and seemed kind of upset.”

This must be what falling off the edge of a precipice feels like, being swallowed up by an endless black abyss trying vainly to grasp onto something (anything really) before realizing that you stupidly hadn’t attached a safety rope. You managed to conjure up a smile, the same smile you put on when your boss assigned you another frivolous assignment. “Stressed out about work, but aren’t we all?”

You didn’t mention Jongin’s comment to Soojung when you got back home, and somehow it felt like a betrayal of her trust.

“How was dance class?” your friend asked as you opened the freezer to pull out a pint of ice cream. She raised an eyebrow. “Ice cream? Did something happen?”

“Cravings,” you grunted. You didn’t feel like engaging in much conversation right now, which was unfortunate because Soojung seemed to be in one of her playful moods. Even the sweetness of vanilla didn’t dampen the bitter taste in your mouth.

Soojung skipped over and lazily rested her chin on your shoulder. “What’s wrong?” she asked, wrapping her arms around your waist.

You hesitated. Here was the test of your bravery. You could stick to your guns that “communication is key” and tell her exactly how much you liked Jongin, ruin her good mood, and retire to your room in a horrible mood or you could make a flimsy excuse and make a quick escape to listen to angsty music on your phone. The latter option sounded too good to pass up.

“My boss stuck me with a bunch of useless tasks again,” you said. And I think I’m falling in love with your ex-boyfriend, who may or may not still be hung up on you, you added mentally.

Soojung clicked her tongue sympathetically. “Go get some sleep. Tomorrow’s a new day.”

“Thanks, boo.” You patted her shoulder as you made your escape, flopping onto your bed. With your ice cream melting into a barely recognizable pile of goo and your eyes stinging with unshed tears, you tried to take in deep breaths. This was ridiculous; you didn’t even know if Jongin liked Soojung anymore, and you’d only been crushing on him for a few months. But you wanted to hang onto him, grasp onto his smile, even if it was selfish.

You welcomed the nothingness of sleep gratefully.

The next day Soojung made you french toast for breakfast just the way you like it, and you nearly cried because how moronic would you be if you trampled over a friendship for a boy?

For your next dance lesson, you arrived almost half an hour early, intending to take the time to prepare yourself. Instead you found yourself floored as you watched Jongin glide across the dance floor, covering the expanse of the dance studio in three sleek pique turns. As he leapt into the air, you felt your heart soar. The thud of his shoes against the ground fell in time with your heartbeat. Whatever thoughts you had about your own improvement or dancing crumbled because Jongin, Jongin was real—Jongin was raw.

I can’t do this, you thought, scrambling for your phone and dialing Soojung’s number. You picked a secluded corner near the vending machine and chewed on your thumbnail as your phone rang.

“Hello?”

Soojung’s voice brought a welcomed rush of relief.

“Jongin asked how you were doing,” you blurted out. “He wanted to know if you were okay.” The heavy feeling of guilt weighing on your chest lifted, and you breathed out slowly.

Soojung sounded confused as she replied, “I’m doing fine. I texted him the other day to yell at him a little bit because I thought he was working you too hard.”

You absentmindedly stroked the cool metal of the vending machine. “Working me too hard?”

“Yeah.” Soojung snorted softly, a inelegant sound that could only sound acceptable when coming out of her mouth. “You’ve been on edge for the last couple weeks. Don’t think I haven’t noticed. You’re wearing yourself thin. If the lessons are too much, cancel them. I don’t want you have to stick with something you don’t enjoy just because you feel indebted to me. Money isn’t an issue.”

“I enjoy the lessons. I do. It’s just…” You paused. Could you tell Soojung what you were really feeling? Honesty was not always the best policy in your opinion. Sometimes it was better to bury the truth deep where it would never emerge, especially if it would bring more complications. What would be the benefit of confessing your feelings to Soojung again? The older you got, the more you thought that some issues just not worth the hassle.

“What?” prompted your friend.

You stared down at the off-color white of your sneakers. “Jongin is really cute,” you said quietly. You filled the awkward pause in conversation by rhythmically drumming your fingers against the vending machine.

Finally, Soojung spoke. “You always did like cute things. You can never resist my puppy dog eyes. Is this what’s been bothering you lately?”

You nodded. “Yes.”

Her sigh weighed heavily on your conscience as she replied, “If there are barriers in front of you, it’s only because you set them up yourself.”

“I hate it when you talk in riddles,” you said, feeling the familiar pressure build up near the edge of your eyes. You blinked rapidly, trying to fend away the tears, but a sniffle escaped from your clenched jaws anyway.

“It means, my idiot best friend,” Soojung said, and you could just picture her in that moment, cradling the phone delicately between her hands with her cheek smushed against the glass dining room table as she rolled her eyes, “that you’re freaking out about nothing again. Did I ever say that you couldn’t like Jongin?”

You thought back to all your previous interactions with your friend. “But you said it must be fate that—”

“I said it must be fate that Jongin ended up as your instructor. That’s all I said.”

“Okay, but then I told you I had a crush on him, and you—”

“Laughed and said that he was an attractive and nice guy,” Soojung interrupted again. “I’m only going to say it one more time. If there are barriers in front of you, it’s only because you set them up yourself.”

You closed your eyes as the hot tears spilled down your cheeks. The overwhelming pressure you had felt over the past few weeks lifted off your shoulders, and you let your head thunk against the wall behind you. “I’m an idiot,” you said, snuffling loudly.

“Yes, you are. Now go to the bathroom and clean up. You probably look gross. I’m hanging up now!” Soojung’s steady voice calmed your shaking frame, and you did as she said, making your way to the bathroom, ignoring a “closed” sign in the process, and splashing cold water on your face with rehearsed mechanical motions.

You didn’t deserve her. Nobody in this world deserved her, not even Kim Jongin. You wet a paper towel and dabbed at the edges of your eyes, trying to get rid of any traces of your tears. You were in the middle of lobbing your paper towel into the trash can when the door to the restroom slammed open.

Desperation, the only word that could describe how Jongin clutched at his phone and ran a hand through his hair. “No, the date was fine. She was cute and very friendly. Yes, I went back to her place after. What? Yeah, she was great, but look, it’s just—” You took a step back. The squeaking of your tennis shoe against the tiled floor—damn them for keeping it pristine, clean, and waxed—drew the one person whose attention you didn’t want towards you.

“Shit,” swore Jongin.

All of the flowers that had bloomed in your mind suddenly wilted, a crushing sense of defeat settling itself on your shoulders. Soojung’s words rang in your ear, a stark contrast against the reality you were facing. “If there are barriers in front of you, it’s only because you set them up yourself.” So what? You had broken down your barriers only to find a gaping chasm facing you on the other end.

“So we’re still on for class then?” you asked in an attempt at humor. It fell flat. The awkward silence filled the air as Jongin hung up the phone.

“Sorry, that was…” Jongin paused and bit his lip. “Unprofessional.”

You fell back into work mode, which switched on every time your boss gave you another inane task. “That’s okay,” you said, smiling. “It’s my fault for going into a closed bathroom. I just really needed a tissue.” Internally, you bemoaned how idiotic you had been. Going goo-goo-eyed over a boy. What was it? Freshman year of college? To think that you had been stressing out about this seemed laughable, but you still couldn’t help the pang of rejection that shot through your veins as you met Jongin’s gaze.

The two of you remained in a standoff for a few more seconds before Jongin mumbled something incomprehensible and left the restroom. You took the opportunity to mouth “what the fuck” to yourself in the mirror before pinching your cheeks lightly.

“Get it together, girl,” you whispered.

Class turned out to be just as awkward as you imagined. All your previous progress with Jongin vanished as he returned to his strict quiet self. You felt your shoulders tense as you faltered in your step once again, missing the beat. The strange atmosphere meant you felt uncomfortable dancing once again, as if you had slipped into an unfamiliar skin.

“Turn on three. One.Two. Three.” Jongin demonstrated the sharp movement. “Four.”

“Right.” You tried to copy his movement.

Jongin held out his arm before you could swivel around. “You’re not listening. You’re not focused,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “You have to position your feet on the second beat in order to be able to make it on the fourth.”

Your jaw dropped. “I’m not focused?” you asked incredulously. “I’m sorry it’s a bit hard to concentrate when I just walked in my instructor talking about his sexual escapades in the women’s bathroom.”

Jongin winced. “It wasn’t—”

“What it looked like?” you interrupted. “Don’t give me that bullshit.” You hated dishonesty more than anything else. The only thing that could hurt more than realizing your unreciprocated crush status would be if Jongin lied about it to save face. “Can we just continue the lesson please?” Your legs ached, and honestly you just wanted to go home and watch an episode of your favorite drama to take your mind off real life for a second.

Jongin’s mouth twisted, and he looked torn between responding to your comment or ignoring it. He chose the latter option, instead choosing to run through the lesson. There was no usual “good job” compliment at the end of the lesson, and you found yourself in a rush to leave class, throwing your water bottle and towel into your bag.

It was just your luck that you ran smack dab into someone as you exited the classroom. “Mother of—” You cut yourself off, holding up a hand to your nose and sucking in a quick breath. Your nose tingled, sending tiny shocks of pain throughout your body.

“Are you okay?” Jongin’s concerned face swam into your vision.

You blinked away tears and nodded. The handsome man you just bumped into regarded you with narrowed eyes and an intense gaze as if studying a curious specimen underneath a microscope. “Aren’t you—”

“Sehun,” interrupted Jongin, putting a gentle hand on your shoulder. “This is my student. I told you about her, remember?”

You shifted out from under his touch, hugging your bag to your front. Jongin’s arm awkwardly hovered near your shoulder for a second before falling limply to his side.

“Are you coming out this weekend?” Sehun looked at you while he asked the question. “Some of the instructors and students are getting together for drinks at a restaurant near here.”

You waved your hand. “I’m pretty busy this weekend, so I—”

Sehun stepped forward, coming much closer than you were comfortable with an unfamiliar person being. “Jongin didn’t invite you? You really should come.”

Jongin grabbed Sehun’s elbow and squeezed. “What do you want, Sehun?” he asked, shooting an unreadable glance at his friend.

You really just wanted to get home, but Sehun still blocked your path. “I’ll think about it,” you said, desperate for him to move. The tingling in your nose intensified. You felt a slick droplet of blood trail down your upper lip.

“Shit, you’re bleeding.” Jongin grabbed your chin, tilting your head toward him. “Seriously”—the dance instructor turned around to glare at his friend all the while keeping a firm grip on your face—“you need to watch where you’re going.”

You didn’t see Sehun’s response, focused on how delicate Jongin’s hands were as he reached into his pocket for a pack of tissues and pressed one to your nose. His touch incited a rebellious staccato heartbeat as he leaned in even closer, breath ghosting against your cheek.

“Are you okay?”

You closed your eyes. It was just unfair that he could be so sweet and so cute and so not yours. “I’m fine,” you mumbled, holding the tissue firmly against your nose. “I’ll see you later. Nice to meet you, Sehun.” You brushed past the pair of men, content to make a beeline for the subway and get home as far as possible.

Not fast enough though. You still caught the noise of Sehun’s unbelieving voice. “That’s the girl who you…” You resisted the urge to stick your nose into gossip where it didn’t belong and made your way home.

Soojung took in your limp limbs, red nose, and slightly blood stained shirt with a calm eye. “Did you slip in the bathroom?”

“No,” you snapped, lobbing your used tissue into the trash can. “I ran into one of Jongin’s friends on the way out of dance class, and”—your voice hitched a little bit as you continued—“while I was in the bathroom cleaning my face, Jongin came in, and he was talking about a date with someone else. He went back to her place after apparently.”

A sympathetic noise escaped Soojung’s throat, and she came over to your side, rubbing your back. “I’m sorry, sweetie. Do you want french toast for dinner?”

You considered being a responsible adult and turning down her offer, but the pull of sugar and cream was too strong. You nodded, heading to the bathroom to clean up your shirt.

After a wonderful dinner that probably tipped your blood sugar levels toward dangerously high levels, you settled down for a nice relaxing weekend. You really had no plan to attend the gathering Sehun had mentioned...until Jongin texted you.

Chicken and beer at 11 tomorrow night. I’ll see you there? :)

His hopeful smiley made you second guess your decision to skip out on the event. When you asked Soojung for her advice, your friend simply shrugged and pointed out that there might be even cuter more eligible men for you to meet. “Besides, what are you going to do here all weekend? Mope about my ex-boyfriend not liking you back?” Her facetious words renewed your appetite for a good night out.

That’s right. You were a strong independent woman who could charm any man you wanted, with enough preparation and self-confidence of course, and you weren’t about to turn down an invitation for fried chicken. You weren’t crazy.

And that was exactly what led you to downing shot after shot, all the while wondering exactly what personal vendetta Sehun held against you. From the moment he suggested a drinking game, he gunned for you to lose.

“Categories,” he said, flipping over the card. “Dance crews.”

Beside you, Jongin sighed and grabbed your shot glass. “I’ll take this one for you.”

You bristled. “One Million,” you shouted, slamming your hand onto the table. You locked gazes with Sehun, resisting the urge to stick out the tongue as the man wrinkled his nose. He thought he had you with that one.

The game continued around the table, and eventually some girl you couldn’t remember the name of ended up losing the round, taking a shot of soju. You struggled to wrestle your shot glass out of Jongin’s grasp. “I’m fine. Seriously.” To prove it, you placed a finger on your nose, showcasing the functionality of your fine motor skills.

“Sorry, Sehun can get a little…competitive.” Jongin kept his hand wrapped around your glass, preventing you from taking it back.

You stood up with a huff and leaned in to whisper in Jongin’s ear, fueled by frustration and alcohol—a potent mix. “I’m going to the bathroom, and when I get back, you’d better have let go of my glass, or else I’ll have to punish you.” Jongin’s ears turned an interesting shade of pink, but you were too busy stumbling to the bathroom to pay much attention.

When the water from the sink did nothing to relieve the heat under your skin, you slipped out to sit on a chair outside the restaurant.

“Hey.” Sehun stumbled toward you. He jabbed an accusatory finger in your shoulder. “You.”

You smacked away his finger. “Seriously, what’s your problem?” The hot blood running through your veins surged, and your tongue, loosened by the alcohol, began to blabber. “You’ve been gunning for me all night. Did I do something to you? Like bump into you in the hallway? If so, I’m sorry, but—”

Sehun leaned forward. Unwilling to be cowed, you learned forward as well. Your forehead knocked into his, a painful experience, but you kept your gaze narrowed and fixed on his.

“You think you can just string Jongin along?”

Wait, what? Sehun took advantage of your shock to headbutt you. For such a slender man, he packed a surprising punch. You clutched at your head as throbbing spread out from the center of the hit.

Sehun wasn’t done though. He stood up and poked you again. “Jongin thought you liked him, you know? He was almost one hundred percent sure. And then you get all hot and cold, pushing him away and avoiding him, so I set him up with another girl just ‘cause he’s just so down about you, always moping and wondering if he came on too strong.” Sehun groaned, running a hand through his hair. “Then you act all jealous about it, when you don’t even like him, so the real question is what’s”—he punctuated each one of his words with a prod to your shoulder—“your problem? I’m just trying to be a good friend here, but you keep on ruining it.” He ended the speech by throwing up his hands in the air with a huff.

Your blood boiled. “You’re trying to be a good friend? For your information, I do like Jongin.” A surge of fresh annoyance sent you jumping to your feet. “And you know I was trying to be a good friend too. It’s not easy to like your best friend’s ex-boyfriend, okay? I value my friendship with her the most, and I was scared of hurting her.” Sehun’s widening eyes made you think that he probably hadn’t known that tidbit of information.

Sometime during the conversation when you and Sehun circled each other like wolves, you had switched positions so that your back faced the door. When you turned around, you couldn’t help the yelp that escaped your lungs.

“Sehun.” Jongin strode forward, arms crossed and eyes dark. His forearms flexed as he grabbed his friend by the upper arm. You didn’t bother pretending that you weren’t totally checking him out because you had no idea how long he’d been standing there. For all you knew, he heard the entire conversation. You weren’t exactly paying attention to your surroundings, so it was hard to tell.

Sehun stared at his friend. He pursed his lips and let out a lengthy exhale. “I’m not sorry.”

Jongin laughed, a smooth short sound, and rubbed his friend’s arm. “I know. Go drink some water, or else you’ll regret it tomorrow morning.”

That left you standing, feet splayed outward and hands clasped in front of your body, studying the cracks in the brick wall in an attempt to avoid Jongin’s gaze. The man strode forward, placing a single finger on your forehead.

“It looks red,” he murmured.

You pouted. “Well Sehun did just headbutt me.”

“He can be a little...protective.” Jongin swept over the reddened area with his thumb and then asked, “How drunk are you?”

You wrinkled your nose and shrugged. “Drunk enough to not feel embarrassed right now,” you said. “Not drunk enough to forget about this happening tomorrow. I think I’m going to have to cancel our dance classes for next week and hide out under my covers to avoid embarrassment.”

Jongin chuckled, a low throaty sound that sent tingles skittering down your spine. “Don’t cancel our class. It would be a shame if I couldn’t see you.” His cheeks flushed a pale red.

“How much have you had to drink?” you queried, peering into his face even as your ears burned. You stood on your tiptoes so that you could look him in the eyes and then promptly lost your balance, toppling forward. Jongin caught you, warm hands snaking around your waist to steady you.

“You know if you’re too nice I’ll get the wrong idea,” you murmured into his shoulder. “Unless you want me to get the wrong idea?” Even to you, your voice rang of childish hope.

Jongin’s voice trembled as he replied, “Do you have the wrong idea?”

“I have horrible ideas,” you whispered. “Liking my best friend’s ex-boyfriend is just the tip of the iceberg.”

Hot air tickled your ear as Jongin huffed. You stiffened as something warm pressed against your head—did he just kiss the top of your head?

“Let me call you a ride.”

“Okay,” you said at a loss for what else to do. Jongin shifted, and you realized that you were still leaning on him. Pushing yourself off, you tottered to a nearby patio chair and collapsed. Jongin came to stand beside you, tapping on his phone. The muffled noise bubbling from the restaurant as if your head were dunked in a bucket of water, the weakly throbbing lights reflected from the club across the street, your own fuzzy head, the result of quick and copious alcohol consumption—it all felt surreal.

Therefore the fact that Jongin had just reciprocated your feelings—in a very blatant manner at that—definitely was just a dream, your imagination running wild. You swayed to your feet as a car pulled into the drive.

To your surprise, Jongin sat in the backseat with you.

“I’m dropping you off first,” he explained, showing the itinerary on his phone. Your bleary eyes struggled to focus on the screen. With a huff, you gave up and pressed your forehead against the cool window. The alcohol you had consumed was now hitting you with the force of a sledgehammer. You would have to immediately chug a glass of water and lie down when you got home.

As the car pulled to a stop, Jongin exited the vehicle and routed around to open your door. He helped you to your apartment door without complaint, hand lingering on your elbow as you stepped across the threshold. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Okay,” you said because what else were you going to say? No, don’t call me tomorrow, dear person who I have a big fat crush on.

Soojung walked in on you standing in front of the opened fridge, surveying the interior for your half-drunken Gatorade bottle from the day before. The cool air wafting from the interior soothed your hot skin.

“Close the fridge,” she grumbled, still half-asleep as she walked past you to grab the water filter. “You’re wasting energy.”

You found your Gatorade and gulped it down in a few huge swigs. When you looked back at Soojung, she tilted her head.

“I think,” you said, licking your lips, “Jongin asked me out.”

Soojung stared at you, set down her water glass, and muttered, “I don’t get paid enough for this,” before exiting the room.

You tossed your finished drink into the recycling bin, hopping in joy as it clattered in. “You don’t get paid at all,” you said to the empty room before making your way to your bed and collapsing atop of it.

The next day you woke up none the worse for wear physically. However, thoughts of the previous night whirled through your brain, and you winced as you considered each one in turn. You checked your phone, only to find that Soojung had holed herself up in a cafe to finish a spread due by Monday but not before leaving a text message that read, Go get ‘em tiger. That left you alone. Alone with your thoughts.

Now if this were a chick flick film like He’s Just Not That Into You, you would distract yourself and wait for Jongin’s phone call with bated breath. Your life was not a chick film though.

A familiar voice answered the phone on the first ring. “Hello?”

You pinched the bridge of your nose. “Sehun, can you put Jongin on the phone?”

“Oh, it’s you. We’re at the studio right now,” Sehun replied. “Maybe you can call—”

“Give me the phone!”

The sound of scuffling filled your ear, and you held your cellphone away from you as the noise level increased.

“Give it to me!”

“I will in just a second.”

“Now, Sehun!”

When the noise died down, you pressed the phone back to your ear. “Jongin?”

“Sorry, I was going to call after I was done with stuff, but someone”—Jongin’s voice became indistinct as he yelled something inaudible at Sehun—“was being a pain to work with. Meet me for lunch at the studio? There’s a good cafe near here that serves the best—Sehun, I will kick your—”

You interrupted before Jongin’s train of thought became completely lost. “I’ll meet you there in about an hour?”

“Sounds good,” Jongin said before descending into another muffled yelling spree. “Stop, I am on the phone right now—”

“See you then,” you said, clicking on the “end call” button before another full out war broke out on your eardrums. The second after you hung up, you plopped your head into your pillow and released a long breath. Then you burst into a flurry of activity. By the end of your whirlwind, clothes littered the floor, and your desk was once again a mess of papers and hair clips.

Your giddiness lasted up until when you actually entered the dance studio. Jongin and Sehun stopped dancing, turning around to look at you. You fiddled with your bracelets, wondering if you had overdone it.

“You look…” Jongin trailed off. Sehun whacked him on the back, and he wheezed, “Great.”

Rolling his eyes, Sehun grabbed his bag and exited the room. On his way out, he gave you a stiff pat on the shoulder. You took the unspoken apology in stride. You of all people understood tunnel vision when it came to a friend.

You gathered your courage as Jongin finished packing his bag. “So,” you asked, “how much did you exactly hear last night?”

Jongin’s shoulders stiffened, but you figured the elephant in the room would have to addressed at some point. It might as well be sooner or later. To be fair, you probably could’ve picked a room with less mirrors. Jongin’s eyes darted around the room, trying to find an angle where he couldn’t see your expression. He failed.

“Enough to figure out why you acted so weird the other day.” He shrugged, an elegant movement that drew your eyes to his broad shoulders. “I mean, what Sehun said was basically true. I liked you, and I thought you liked me too, but then—”

“I do,” you interrupted, stepping forward. Jongin looked up, catching your gaze, and you felt your cheeks burn. “Like you, I mean. Sorry I know I sound like a middle school girl. You used to date my best friend, and that’s a lot of baggage. Even though I like you, I just wasn’t comfortable with the idea of dating you, and I was too scared to bring it up and discuss it.” The brutal truth, laid out in the middle of the room like a fresh fruit platter.

Jongin moved toward you, and at first you thought he was going to brush past you. Your stomach dropped. Then he stopped in front of you and gave you a shy smile. “How about now?”

Now? You thought back to the first time you’d had a dance lesson. You remembered how patient Jongin had been, how he had carefully coached you through all the contortions and fancy footwork. You remembered watching him dance. You thought about your tendency to overthink—ironic, you knew—and how it held you back from saying what you wanted to the most. You thought about how cute Jongin’s smile was.

Soojung’s words rang through your head. If there are barriers in front of you, it’s only because you set them up yourself.

Well, this was you dismantling the barriers, brick by brick.

You took Jongin’s hand and squeezed. “Now, I’m hungry. Where are we going to eat lunch?”

Besides, you thought as Jongin’s smile spread across his face, slow and steady, and he tentatively laced his fingers through yours, there’s no way I could’ve resisted this for long. After all you had always been a sucker for cute things.

#kpop scenario #Kai scenario #Jongin scenario #EXO scenario #Kim Jongin scenario #Kai #EXO #approx 20 pages of quote slow unquote burn #really just burning #here's a really long fic with random romantic moments b/c i felt like it lol

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