#ad infinitum a tsundere holiday

[yoongisbbydoll]

Ad Infinitum - A Tsundere Holiday

Ad Infinitum  ─  A collection of never-ending drabbles that explore the infinite universes.

Jeon Jeongguk 전정국  ─  A Christmas Special

Warnings  ─  Fluffy Christmas Stuff

Length  ─  1,925 Words

Listening to  ─  2 Days ; Marteen

December is the worst month of the year, you decide.

This is not only because everyone is running around like chickens without heads, trying to come up with gift ideas and buy them at the same time as the rest of the last minute shoppers. But it’s also when the cold starts to seep its way into your bones and it’s bitter freeze makes you a little bit snippier, a little tighter around the lips and a little moodier. Not only this, but it’s the time of year that your boss sends you to New York to go over the yearly statements at headquarters.

Most of the time, you’re left alone to do your work and drown in cups of coffee and Red Bull, but this year, they’ve sent along someone else to watch and confirm that you’re doing your work efficiently. You didn’t understand the need for a babysitter but it didn’t bother you, the poor kid just sat across the room and was paid to fall asleep and go on his phone, and he was paid to get you food from the convince store down the street whenever you realized it was time to eat.

“I can’t come in tomorrow,” are the first words he says to you. You didn’t care until he added, “Or the rest of the month.”

“You’re kidding.” You laugh, blowing on your ramen as you look through February’s bank statements.

He coughs and looks up at you over his coffee. “I’m sorry, my mom is in the hospital.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll be fine alone. Not like you help out anyways.” You grumble and flip onto the next page.

“If there’s anything I can do for you on my last day, let me know.”

You don’t ask him for anything, you don’t even ask for him to run and get you dinner when 6 o’clock rolls by. The last thing you say is goodbye three hours later when you think you’ve done enough work and earned a quiet few hours before work in the morning. He waves his hand and let’s you go.

The train is almost completely empty when you board, and you pick a seat close to the back and lean your head against the glass, your hot breath creating puffs of perspiration against the window. You tuck your headphones in and close your eyes, waiting for the rickety movement of the train taking off on its tracks, leading you closer to the motel you’re staying in.  

No once has the train ever been so busy that you’d been forced to share a seat, so you’re surprised when someone drops themselves carelessly down next to you, their bag landing on your arm. Your eyes snap open and your tongue curls in anticipation of taking off, but when you look and find a bright eyed, cherry cheeked man, you feel defeated. He smiles at you precariously, nodding his head and stretching out his hand, lips forming words you can’t hear over the music.

You pull out a single earbud and awkwardly grip his hand. “Hi?”

“I don’t like sitting alone.” He states, eyes still bright, black hair pushed off his forehead as if the wind had used it’s icy fingers to slick it back. “Jeongguk, I’m Jeongguk by the way.”

“Yeah, hi.” You turn back to the window, tucking your backpack closer to your chest, ready to put your headphones back in when he taps your shoulder. You snap your eyes back to him, “What?”

Jeongguk simply grins and shakes his head, tapping his fingers wildly against the arm rest, eyes dancing across the heads of other tired, workers making their way home on a lonely Tuesday night. Jeongguk hops off the train a stop ahead of you, waving as he leaves, a joyous smile on his face. You wonder how anyone can be so happy all the time and close your eyes once again.

The next morning, he spots you tucked away in the back on the 6:15 train into the city and walks over, only to find someone seated beside you. He falls into the closest spot and tries to get your attention, but you’re staring out the window, listening to your music, completely cut off from the world.

Once again, on the 9:15 train, he finds you with your crocheted hair pulled tightly over your hair, a small trail of white informing him that your headphones are in. When he sits next to you, he doesn’t expect you to say anything, and graciously accepts the nod of your head as an acknowledgement to his presence.

You’d never expected him to continue sitting next to you, but for two more weeks, he stuck by your side on the way home. You even found yourself putting your bag in the seat next to you so that it would be saved for when he arrived in the mornings. You couldn’t describe it, but his warm smile and positive attitude became a routine you thoroughly enjoyed having next to you, even if you didn’t talk.

But, on December the 18th, Jeongguk decided he no longer wanted to sit in your calm silence and made a move to get you to speak to him. You had been eyeing his nervous movements for about a minute or so when he reached out and almost had his hands around the cord of your earbud when you snap at him with the fires of hell in your eyes, tongue curling as you spit out, “If you pull out my earphones, I will pull out your lungs.”

He pulls his hands pack in surrender, smiling wildly as you sigh and pull out your earbuds yourself. “I just want to invite you over for a coffee.”

“How do I know you’re not inviting me over just to murder me.” You ask jokingly, leaning back against the rumbling side of the train, the back of your head rocking against the window pane.

Jeongguk lets out a snort, “You’ll never know unless you come with me. My stops coming up soon.”

You hesitate, the words no thanks on the tip of your tongue, an excuse forming in the back of your head. But it’s a Monday night, and the rest of the work week is ahead, and you have absolutely no reason not to get home a little later than usual. There’s also something in Jeongguk eyes, a twinkling hope and a quirk of his lips that makes you want to find out more about this mysterious boy who sits next to you every day on the way home.

When you agree, Jeongguk can’t look anymore happy. His mitten covered hands grab yours and he smiles at you like the sun shining down on a hot summer’s day. You can’t help but smile back. He leads you like a child off the train, holding on of your hands in his. You feel like a teenager again, sneaking out to go over a boys house when you’re supposed to be sleeping. Your heart thumps against your chest as Jeongguk drags you to his apartment a few blocks over.

He actually does brew coffee, but you don’t drink most of it as the two of you end up on the couch, legs intertwined, talking and joking for hours. It feels comfortable, like the conversation is going no where in particular but has a direct route from each topic to the next. He tells you about his job—as co-founder of a small tech company—and about how much he adores animals and his favorite artists, he informs you of his small quirks like accidentally winking at people when his eyes twitch, and how he has to constantly be moving so an engineering really keeps him busy, and how he’s really insecure of his singing voice but belts out to his favorite songs whenever he’s home alone. His least favorite holiday is Christmas but he loves the snow and decorating during the holiday season.

He was going on a spiel about how his brother accidentally shot their dog with a BB gun on Thanksgiving when they were kids as you felt your eyes become heavy. You had barely noticed the time as it passed by the two of you who has been cocooned in your own little universe. Your head lolled a few times before you completely fell asleep on Jeongguk’s cough.

He simply laughed softly and laid a blanket over you and turned off the light.

You awoke startled by your surroundings and for a moment, you thought you’d been kidnapped.

Half of your body was over the edge of the sofa and a blanket was almost choking you. There was humming from behind you in the kitchen, and that scared you enough to have you slipping fully onto the ground.

“My ass,” you groaned, looking into the kitchen to see Jeongguk eating cereal, watching you curiously.

“Get some good beauty sleep?”

“Fuck off. What time is it?”

“Around 6.”

You shot up, “I’m going to be late.”

The next time you saw Jeongguk was Christmas Eve, and you were more than miserable as you boarded the 9:15 train out of the city. But there he was, finally sitting before you, eyes searching the other stragglers trying to get home. When he spotted you, his face lit up and he waved intensely, as if you couldn’t see him—mind you, he was sporting a neon orange hat and matching gloves.

“Hey, stranger. Where have you been?” Jeongguk lets you slide into the window seat and you don’t bother putting on your headphones, they feel like a lost page in a book now.

Jeongguk shifts in his seat, “I’m sorry about that. Holiday season is really busy so I’ve been up even earlier and staying even later. I would have texted you but,” he paused, licking his lips and avoiding your eyes as if unsure, “I don’t have your number.”

“You should have asked,” you smile and hold out your hand.

As you put your number in his contacts, he thrums his fingers against his leg, gulps, and then asks, “Want to spend Christmas Eve together?”

It’s an awkward proposition, and once again you want to say no. But now it’s a Sunday, and you have the next day off and no where to be but in bed sleeping. You shrug, handing him his phone back, “Sure.”

When you step into Jeongguk’s apartment, it smells like candy canes, and there are twinkling fairy lights decorating the top corners of every room. The lights are dim and there are more decorations perches on every open surface. It feels like a winter wonderland, and you slip off your shoes and pull of your hat, admiring his handiwork.

“You like it?” Jeongguk smiles, walking to the kitchen.

You follow a few steps behind, “I love it.”

He makes hot chocolate and you settle onto the couch, this time, you’re pressed against his chest, and he turns on A Charlie Brown Christmas and lets the silence become a space of comfort. You feel as if you’re home in the sweet smelling and welcoming atmosphere of his living room, with his heart beating against your back, chin resting lightly on your head, hot chocolate burning your tongue.

You don’t have anything for him when the clock strikes 12 and Christmas welcomes the two of you in a quiet sing-song of his clock. Yet, you feel like this moment, with his arms around your waist and the feeling of the holidays ahead, is the gift itself.

more of : ad infinitum.

masterlist.

Note : I kind of just threw this together for the holidays. If i have time I will come back to edit this and I might reformat the way this looks because it’s my first actual drabble series so I’m not sure how to title it correctly. Anyways, thank you for reading!