#chanbaekxoc

[ushioink]

(Part 2 of Careful,)

The lecture hall is damp from boredom and like minded individuals, and so she puts herself in a spot slightly to the left, in the back where it’s a bit hidden from the nosiness of the students in her History class. She waits for Mrs. Kang to appear as she tinkers with her phone, searching through her images and playing games, considering the internet is banned from inside the actual classrooms for the benefits of busybodies like herself.

Mrs. Kang enters in the same time as the last group of students do, and she stares them down so hard that they quickly skittle down, thanking God that she, from all professors, don’t have that rule in excluding students that come after her. She stares at the glared at students with sick amusement, opening her laptop and turning it on to ready herself in notes taking. However, her small tinge of positive amusement is destroyed when a heavy body slides himself so casually on her seat, the one thing that she had happily bragged to own herself. She looks to the abhorrent nuisance that invaded her personal space, and her neutral face expression shifts into an annoyed one. Seeing this, Baekhyun just grins prettily at her, his straight teeth glinting like diamonds. She wants to gouge his intestines out.

“What are you doing?” She looks down at her laptop in feigned disinterest, even though her eyebrows constantly shift around in a narrow. “No, seriously, what the heck are you doing?”

“Shh, we’re in a lecture hall,” he puts a tall and pretty finger on his lips. “Mrs. Kang had not punished you before because you’re her favorite student, but I won’t take my chances. She knows who I am. I’ve made a ruckus or two,” he seems very proud of this, his eyes flashing smugly, “and I’ve been kicked out of her class a lot. So shush, let me concentrate.”

“All the more reasons for you to fuck off,” she tilts her head a little to the side so she can hiss at him, her hands beginning to type quickly as Mrs. Kang begins her lecture. “I’d rather not be seen here with you. Also, you’re not here to concentrate. You’re here to rip the skin out of my body.” She pretends to shiver violently.

He snickers, and it comes out a little loud. Mrs Kang instantly stops her exciting monologuing (it’s rare to find someone who manages to speak so boringly, and yet excitedly at the same time, but she does so perfectly) to whip her head around, her eyes hawk-like and deadly.

“I hear snickering!” She yells. “Who dares laughing in my class?”

Baekhyun instantly pretends to be an innocent listener, his eyes big and preposterously uncanny. Mrs. Kang ravishes the students with her narrowed, kohl eyes.

“Just because you give me a vague face, doesn’t mean I won’t find you.” The teacher threatens again. Still, no one gives her any response.

She’s a bit astonished that none of the nearby students who actually heard Baekhyun snicker were telling on him. But the surprise quickly vanishes when she looks around at their faces, every single one avoiding Baekhyun’s amused eyes, threat very clear under.

She rolls her eyes.

Mrs. Kang kinda mellows over once no one confesses and she no longer hears laughter, and resumes her lecture with the same vindictive tone that she has been using in the start of the semester.

Immediately after her back is to the class, Baekhyun slides his butt closer to her, until their thighs are a brush away. She gives him a creeped out look, and he simply leans against the table on his elbow, putting his head on his palm. He grins, or smirks. His lips only curl a little, and the devilish glint in his eyes makes him appear dangerous, so she goes with smirking. He is smirking, indeed. For a second, she understands why people are afraid of him. Tremors kinda bloom in her body, but she pushes the irrational emotion out of her system quickly. She turns to the board, focusing on the professor.

Soon, she realizes that he isn’t looking away. He’s staring at her in the same mischievous yet intolerable way. She gives him a thin-lipped smile, apparent in its annoyance. Her eyes wide and irritated. His eyes only twinkle more in that stupid, attractive glint of his that’s entirely evil.

“Yes? Is there something you need, dumbass?” She sighs.

He nods seriously, his face grave. “Yes. I was wondering if you’d be my Twin Flame. The walls to my well. The stone to my heart. The poison to my soul. Oh, be my favorite nightmare.”

She takes one of her blue pens and flicks it on his forehead. It flops pathetically on the floor. He sniggers again - much more quietly - and rubs his surely reddening spot.

“Seriously, I want nothing. I’m just quietly staring at you.”

“For what reason, oh please tell, you’re staring at me for?” She leans towards him as if potentially saying something secretive. “Do you know that staring so intently at someone’s eyes can affect their chakra? So, I’ll just stare right back at you hoping that my laser eyes can negatively make you bend over this desk. I gotta tell you, I have very strong chakra.”

He furrows his eyebrows weirdly. “You believe in this bullshit?”

Her eyes widen a little, but she quickly composes herself to squint instead. “No, I don’t. But I thought someone like you might.”

“I can’t help but have the slightest conclusion that you just called me a loser, which hurts my feelings. It really does.”

“Does it? And here I thought hurting your feelings would require more effort.” She gives him a mocking smile, and then turns to the professor with her default blank face.

He stares at her, a little amused at her odd shenanigans, and wonders how someone like her had slipped from under his eyes. He’s usually a quiet person that makes it his daily struggle to stare people down to scare them, but to see her, a person that’s so easily irritated for completely different reasons than his amusement actually makes him... excited. He hasn’t really considered annoying her today because of their promise to work on their assignment (or just his) but once he came inside the classroom, he remembered her amusing response of yesterday and subconsciously found himself going to her row, seating himself comfortably next to her.

He continues to annoy her throughout the lecture by poking on her shoulder when she concentrates and breaks her focus, or kicking her shin from under the table whenever she’s pulling a funny look at the utter shit Mrs. Kang is spouting so she’d adjust her bold facials into a neutral face, of course for her own benefits. He’d even steal pens from her large - very large - pen collection, throwing the used pen away from her grabby hands only to steal another one right under her nose. She’s disappointed in herself. She thought she has great reflexes, but she’s considered piss poor in comparison to Baekhyun’s fast, dangerous reflexes. Something about his numerous black belts in hapkido, as he easily bragged at her discomforted look towards her stollen utensils.

Of course, she’s hyper aware of the accumulation of stares from everyone piling up her back. She knows she’s being watched; or rather he’s been watched, for some reason their close proximity to one another, and the constant flying arms coming from her part to smack him away has ticked everyone the wrong way. She has been aware, since the start, that his presence so close to her would rise unfiltered attention from nosy students who found it their prime pastime to watch other unsuspecting students. She doesn’t care that much, of course. She has already been a suspect of gossip her entire life for having the personality that she does, but to be stared down at for different reasons than the ones she’s used to... she gotta say. It feels good.

The minute the lecture ends - very, very slowly - she instantly stands up, making her chair squeak. She raises her already collected stuff on her shoulder, turns to a suddenly flustered Baekhyun, and reaches over for his hair. His yelps come quick and excessive, especially when she uses his hair to pull him out of his chair. He complies, of course, so she doesn’t end up ripping his entire hair roots from his head, and follows after her obediently - yet loudly - as she drags him somewhere else. At first he doesn’t say anything, even though he can overpower her easily, because he knows he kinda sorta deserved to be treated like a dog, but the minute he sees her approaching the library (where silence is a requirement he can’t reach) he grabs her wrist and twists her hand as further back as it can go from his hair. It’s her time to yelp.

In response, her claws release his hair from their clutches, and he stands to his full height. Then, he pulls her towards him, or more like jerks her against him in a single gesture, until she bumps roughly into his chest, and pushes her on the wall so she’s stuck between two solid rocks.

She looks up at him with wide eyes. Her heartbeats are racing so fast inside her chest, she’s a little worried she wouldn’t be able to breathe at the end of this escapade. Of course, he looks down at her, his eyes narrowed and dangerous, but still holding a small flicker of childlike smugness. When he’s so close to her like this, she realizes how short she is. At first, she considered him short in comparison to most males in her university, but while he’s pressing her against the library wall like this, she understands that no, he isn’t short.

“Yah,” he calls, but the voice is soft and tender, the kind that makes a prey submit just to be devoured. She refuses to gulp in front of him and instead glares venomously at him. Seeing this, he lowers his face to her, his warm breath falling on her nose, her mouth and chin like waterfalls. “Yah.”

“Is my name yah to you?” She hisses like a snake, giving him her best don’t fuck with me look, even though genuinely, she’s shaking underneath him.

He narrows his eyes at her. “Do you think I let people shove their hands in my hair like that? Do you think people go around dragging me like that?”

She scoffs. She’s burning up from the inside; of course she is. In one hand, she’s not used to being squished like this against walls. In fact, she’s not sure she has ever felt such warmth from a human body encompassing her like this, and she’s not sure the sensation is to her liking. A girl from her background is used to selfish smacks on the head as a meager exposure of emotions, so such little proximity, with a man nevertheless, makes her feel.. strange. He’s not as soft as she first thought of him, as well. He’s all rigidness and soft muscles, and considering she’s as experienced as a squished slug, she’s not sure if that’s a good thing or not. The way he’s staring down at her, like he’s conscious of the fact he might be in the presence of a cheetah hasn’t gone unnoticed by her, and despite his dumb personality, she has to admit that she likes careful people, especially those careful around her. However, she’s not exactly a flower girl. She refuses to be a flower girl, no matter how much respect she has for flower girls.

She lifts her knee and violently connects it to the man’s junk. She watches in sick, fascinated awe as the man’s face changes. It contorts into a painful scrunch, and quickly, he succumbs to the gravitational pull into the floor. He curls in a heap on the ground, moaning in pain. She huffs, brushes her hair from her sweaty neck - for no specific reason, of course - and glares at the watchful crowd. They quickly flush away like toilet water.

A few minutes after Baekhyun’s fall, she looks down at him as if she’s exhausted from his childish antics, and says. “I don’t let people pin me to walls, either. You’re not that special.”

She twists around dramatically - yes, she knows she’s dramatic - and intends to walk inside the library. But a few seconds later, she realizes that she isn’t being followed, so she pauses. She twists back dramatically (again) and narrows her eyes at the dead body on the floor. “Yah, Aren’t you coming? We have stuff to work on, you know.”

-

She yawns monstrously, and drags her heavy legs towards the convenience store a few minutes away from her tiny apartment in the middle of a neighborhood she has troubles remembering the name of. She bows respectfully at the older man owning the store, being on social terms, enough to be yelling at him without taking responsibility to her stupid anger, and walks further inside.

She shuffles around, her legs feelings like a full body sag as she tries to pull her weight up. Considering she has a certain amount of money she can spend on snacks because of her tight budget, she only chooses the most important snacks to her. For instance, she’s a sweet tooth so she gathers as much chocolate, marshmallows, and fluffy jellies as she can, then settles on two medium sized chip bags. She travels to the beverages’ fridge like a disabled elephant, and takes a few bottles of soda. She is not a fan of beer and soju. Those do nothing to tilt her world upside down anyways. To her, they are a waste of money.

Busy going around the ramen section, she doesn’t notice the tall man that enters the shop. She fails to notice the humongous sneeze that he releases either, shivering like a wet dog, sans the wet part. Her eyes are half-lidded with sleep, and her lips are practically swirly like water with how tired she is because of work, so she only gets attuned to his presence when she smacks into his side.

“Ow,” she mutters pathetically, rubbing her forehead with the hand holding the ramen. She raises her eyes to glare at the fucker, because that’s what she’s good at, even though she’s the one who bumped into him, only to falter when she sees Chanyeol. “Chanyeol?”

“Uh, yeah. Hello?” He sounds awkward, his large hands paused around two packets of ramen himself. He stares down at her because he’s a skyscraper, and that’s what skyscrapers do to align to people; and stares back at the ramen. He stares back at her, again, then at the ramen, nervous at seeing her for whatever reason.

She narrows her eyes at him suspiciously. “What the heck are you doing in this convenience store? Or in this neighborhood?”

Chanyeol blinks, “I live here?”

“You don’t sound so sure about that answer.” She continues to narrow her eyes at him.

“Okay?”

She rolls her eyes and shuffle away from him. Noticing that she picked everything she needs, she heads for the register to pay for her things. Oddly enough, Chanyeol’s quick to follow her, standing behind her patiently. She tilts her head backwards so she can peek inconspicuously at him, and sees he’s only holding packets of instant ramen. He notices her trying to act slick, and focuses his big eyes on her. She quickly looks away, feeling a burn in the back of her neck.

She pays, and leaves, walking through the endless night of the day, huffing because her bags ended up being heavier than she expected. However, she’s a strong, independent woman, and so she swallows up her growing whine. But that doesn’t stop her from stomping on the ground as she walks further away from the convenience store.

Her loud, angry stomps doesn’t entirely block her from the steps that’s strangely walking after her. She pauses in her strides to check if she’s really hearing things, and the footsteps behind her pauses as well. She turns around suspiciously and finds Chanyeol standing behind her, a confused look on his face.

“Why’d you suddenly stop?” He asks, and she’d have found the question an okay one if she hadn’t already surrendered herself to the growing suspicion in her belly.

Instead of answering his question, she fires a question of her own. “Why are you following me?”

He tilts his head to the side, and a lock of dark hair falls on his left eye, giving him a sense of innocence that contradicts the tight clothes he’s wearing. His leather pants are so snug against him that she wonders how he can even walk, and his leather boots make him appear taller, if that’s even possible. She’s a bit envious of the large jacket that he’s wearing, making him bigger and helping him against the cold nights of January. She has been dumb enough to forget her jacket at work today, and so she’s forced to walk around shivering like a rat.

After she finishes inspecting him like a creep, and remembering the fact he hadn’t answered her question, she goes on her merry way for some reason, noticing that his own footsteps commenced after her. She takes lefts and turns away from her house, to check if he’s following her, and once she makes clear accusation in her mind that he is following her, she swivels around to glare at him. He looks back, eyes entirely vacant of emotions.

“See? You are following me, listen..” she twiddles her toes inside her flats, instantly nervous at the concept of being followed. “I don’t know who you think I am, and I don’t know who you think you are, but kidnapping unsuspecting victims is wrong. Kidnapping any kind of victims is wrong. See, maybe you are failing your classes, and maybe you don’t have a flourishing sex life, and maybe you are into this bad boy bullshit, but trust me, a felony following after your back is bad. It’s very bad for your resumé. Weren’t you the one so careful about the internal scarring of your heart? A felony is so much worse than that, I gotta tell you.”

Chanyeol’s lips curl at the blunder she’s throwing on his way, her usually glaring eyes now shaking in nervousness. He gathers all of his ramen in one arm so he can throw a large hand on his mouth to stop his growing laughter from bursting out. To see a girl like her showing uncharacteristic nervousness, it’s kind of funny, despite evilly knowing it’s causing her an internal meltdown.

She looks at him carefully, eyes prodding, and she fails to notice the fact his raised hand is to cover his laughter, not to knock her out. She eyes him up and down, putting her large bag of bought goodies on her chest as a secure guard against him, even though he seems like he can smack her unconscious with a simple kiddie slap. She swallows, taking a step back.

“Please,” she whimpers, then clears her throat when it shows that she’s whimpering, “I don’t taste good. I have nothing against cannibals, but I have the thought to consider myself distasteful.”

He calls her name to pull her out of her stupidly amusing fear, and she swallows, lifting her head up in false confidence. She notices that his eyes are twinkling, the same devilish sparkle that she associated Baekhyun with. To see them so similar yet different at the same time is unnerving, but she doesn’t focus on that. She’s a bit terrified to be consumed at the moment to think about anything else.

“Listen,” Chanyeol’s low baritone comes out of his lips, and this time he doesn’t push himself to conceal his smile. “I’m not following you. I’m not going to eat you. I don’t like the meat of innocent women.”

She stares at him suspiciously. “You prefer the meat of innocent men? I’m not judging.”

He rolls his eyes. “I don’t eat people, sweetie.”

She bristles like she has been burned, and she forgets about her flammable fear to give him a cold, deadly look. He falters. “Don’t call me that. Nobody calls me that, Chanyeol.”

He clears his throat, “Right,” he points at the house right behind her, the mirth quickly returning back to his opaque eyes. “My apartment is right behind you. I genuinely was walking home.”

she twists around to observe the house, noticing that it’s a large building with numerous floors. She guesses that he indeed is telling the truth, noticing the small sign on the corner naming the house as a university resident for males. Her face goes all types of colors at having not noticed the actual sign, and she starts to recollect her footsteps to see if she had accidentally just lead the man home. Maybe she is the stalker one. Her embarrassment grows.

She looks back at him, blinking, and he has the audacity to showcase his smug smirk. She clears her throat and squeezes her fingers around her bag, taking a few steps to the side so the giant scraper can get a leeway to enter his home. He does so, but before he can disappear inside; he turns around to give her another amusement-filled look.

She tries to gather her dignity, disliking the fact Chanyeol has seen her on her real act of a little scaredy cat, whether her fear is justified or not, so she clears her throat, swings her bag on her shoulder like a boss, and bellows, “Just so you know, cannibals are disgustingly immoral, whatever immorality is to you. I was just trying to secure myself a safe spot. I do have a lot of judgment against you. Lots and lots of judgments.”

“Good to know that.” Is Chanyeol’s cheeky answer.

She goes home with a stamp of red, crimson blotch all over her face and the back of her neck. For a second she wonders if she can avoid Chanyeol for the rest of her life so this episode of hers can be removed eternally from her internal disk drive, but then she rationalizes that the memory is shared between the two of them, not her alone. Whether she forgets her shameful distastefulness or not, she’s sure he won’t, so she bangs her face to a wall in her living room, believing that her stoic good girl image is ruined, forever.

She just hopes he doesn’t share this with Baekhyun.

-

Author Note:

So maybe the oc is dumb, ahaha.

I really find myself enjoying writing this fic. It’s very different than the characters I usually write, even though the concept is repetitive and cliché.

And yes, they live in the same neighborhood, but it seems that Chanyeol’s university resident is a bit far away from her apartment, thus why the lefts and turns she had to take to guide him away, ahaha.

We can see a bit of distinction in Yeol and Baek’s personalities??? We’ll of course see more of their personalities!

[ushioink]

(Part 1 of Careful,)

The world’s a little quiet today, or maybe she thinks this way because the AC is on full mode. Her earphones are pressed on her ears, and her fingers are running over the laptop keyboard in light speed. Everything she’s doing is an example of tranquility. She’s trapped in this sphere of solitude, and she loves it. The library is entirely empty, too, considering it’s early in the morning for torture. But whatever, she likes when things are clear and monotonous.

Of course, every good thing is bound to the burden of decomposition, and so her quiet is disturbed. At first, it’s just a body that’s hovering over her table. A large body. Enough to darken her desk and wide enough to block the cool air of the AC gushing over her. She’s intending to ignore it, but she’s not exactly good at that. So she takes off her earphone and pauses her monstrous clicking. She looks up, glare taking place over the dead shapes of her bitch face, ready to confront the person stripping her of her cocoon. Only, she doesn’t see a stranger.

It’s a man, and she’s not familiar with men - usually she’s just a virgin in all aspects of the opposite sex - but he’s not a face well forgotten. He’s one of the dudes that people whispered about in the hallways, and even her, an antisocial not-give-a-shit girl has heard about him. She’s a bit mortified about his sudden station over her table, but she forgets about her curiosity to resume her glaring. He winces a little because of her harsh glaring, especially when she pulls her earphones so she can hear the sound of her eyes going absolutely still in the dangerous motion. Besides him stands another man, a taller one, and he, too, sparks recognition in her well-organized mind. But she doesn’t give this other man attention; she only looks at the shorter guy.

“I have a proposition.” He says, trying to keep his voice steady. She’s a little - a lot - annoyed about his demanding tone, as if he’s used to dropping requests that take no for an answer. So, she scoffs.

“No.”

His eyes, which were narrowed down in a way to intimidate her (as if) widen a little, and he splutter. “You didn’t even hear what I have to say!”

“Don’t care, still no.” She returns back to her speedy typing, just to have something to do and to irritate the guy. God knows how well-versed she is in the effects of ignorance. She hopes he too, is immensely annoyed by it.

His narrowed eyes go a little wide, before he narrows them again. He looks down at the unoccupied chair across her chair, then at her, who’s still pretending to be immersed in her ridiculous writing, before pulling the chair out from under the table and plopping his pretty little butt over it. She doesn’t give him the attention he desires, not even when he releases a big sigh of relief. She keeps on clicking on her keyboard, completely unbothered. This makes him annoyed for some reason. No other female has ignored him like that when he graced them with his pretty, dark presence, and no other person has taken it so far to pretend he doesn’t exist, either. He’s damn well-aware of what he does to people, both genders, whatnot with his beautiful kohl-ridden eyes, his thin, pink lips that perfectly curl into a pout that’s deadly, and his killer body. What’s wrong with this woman? He actually came here by the stupid, stupid convincing tactics of his friend to beg for help, and he’s being swiped off like dirt? Ridiculous!

He curls a fist over his mouth like a fake posh man and clears his throat, making her look at him with her deadly, iridescent eyes. “What if I offered you ten thousand dollars for catching a mice trap in the Dark Dungeons?”

The Dark Dungeons is a place in the university’s library where everyone just pretends doesn’t exist for some reason - probably because of all the boring past researchers of the graduated students stacked there - and ultimately ended up being deserted. A lot of students are scared to venter there alone, recapping fake tales about pale ghosts and demons that are there to hunt them. She’s not afraid of such stupidity.

“Okay,” she shrugs casually, pausing in her rapid typing and closing her laptop. The student blinks at the quick gesture. “Pay it in cash?”

He’s dumbfounded; of course he is. He hadn’t anticipated his dumb proposition (which isn’t even real) to be met with such ease. He continues to blink, “But you just said no.”

She shrugs again, crossing her fingers over her laptop like a CEO waiting for a colleague’s destruction. The fist he’s holding against his mouth is put down on the desk. He wipes his expression clear of his flabbergast. She doesn’t allow him to say anything, though. “It depends on the proposition, really, and my capabilities in doing it. I can catch a mice trap in the presumptuous Dark Dungeons, and I will agree on it for ten thousand dollars. This is, knowing you, the only good offer you’ll be willing to give. I don’t want to hear the rest, because I know the rest, and I refuse the rest beforehand.”

“So you know who I am?” He sounds delightfully surprised. It’s the only thing he caught from her monologue, the fact she knows who he is despite only discovering about her recently.

She gives him a look as if he’s an idiot. Then, she returns to her work and opens the laptop. His cheeks flush at that look, still surprised that she’s not even remotely affected by him. He finally gives his companion, a tall guy who casually slipped on the seat beside him and practically occupying the entire space with his large body, a helpless look; and his friend merely shrugs disinterestedly.

“Hey,” he changes tactics by knocking on her desk with his knuckles, his eyebrows slightly growing narrowed as he frowns.

The man’s a little bit upturned by the mischievous twinkle that goes on like a bell on her eyes as she ignores him, a spark that would have gone unnoticed if he hadn’t been sitting close to her. But it’s strange nevertheless to see her, a woman so poised, a woman full of confidence and empathy, show such molecular emotion. Mind blowing

“Look at me. Hey!”

She looks up at him, the twinkle shifting into deep, rooted annoyance. “Yes? Is there anything of significance that you want to tell aside offering a proposition to a complete stranger?”

He’s dumbfounded yet again. “Is that a way to talk to someone? What a potty mouth you have! Do you use it to kiss people?”

She’s the one dumbfounded now, fooled at her own game of ignorance. “Excu.. excuse me! Potty mouth! Me? I’m a polite person, thank you very much. I’m just in tune with reciprocation at the moment.”

He sounds extremely frustrated when he says, “What the fuck does that even mean?”

The companion of the rotten boy clears his throat before she can retaliate, and she gives him her attention for the first time since he sat himself next to his friend. His face is long and droopy, lazy, and his eyes are squinted as if he’s trying to make sense of her tiny figure sitting across. When he speaks, his voice is husky. “Yah, don’t yell. We’re in a library.”

They glare at him, their eyes holding icicles. He huffs. “The last time I’ve been here, the librarian kicked me out for knocking one of his shelves. If he knows that I’m here again, which he will by your loud voices, I’m going to be staked. I don’t know about you guys, but I’ve seen a lot of vampire movies. Staking seems really hurtful.”

They shoot him disbelieved eyes. He puts a hand over his chest. “I have a sensitive heart. A wooden stake will make my delicate organ scar. That’s not good on my resumé.”

The first guy gapes at his friend, whereas she shakes her head in disappointment of being a part of this conversation. She goes back to her work while poking her tongue on the insides of her cheek, trying to restrain her growing fury.

“What?” The tall companion looks at his friend weirdly, “You haven’t seen the resumés I’ve seen online. They have applications out of this world. What if my beautifully intricate heart is required? Don’t want it marred!”

“Why the fuck would anyone ask for an image of your heart, Yeol? What job even requires the internal lookout of your organs?” His friend rebuts.

“How’d I know? I’m not logged in to alljobs.com!”

“Maybe you should, so you’ll be prepared to have a reasonable answer to your dumb shenanigans!”

“Will you both just shut up!” She snaps, smashing her laptop closed (again). They turn to her, blinking. “Why the fuck you’d even sit in front of a person you don’t know and have this conversation while they’re listening?”

They look scorned, cheeks going red. They regretfully look down at their laps, fiddling with their fingers.

“Now,” she exhales from her nose angrily, resembling a red-faced dragon (she doesn’t actually blush, but the running fury that’s gobbling her up leaves her face looking like a swollen tomato). “What the fuck do you want?”

The smaller man opens his mouth to say his demands once again, but she rudely raises an open palm up, squinting. “Speak gently. And slowly. And politely.”

He glares but complies. “I have something to ask of you, a proposition. Actually, you’re not a stranger, at least not as if now. I know who you are.”

She quirks a sharp eyebrow up, unrelentingly and very judgmentally. She’s not the type of person to be swayed over anything, definitely not over this man, too.

He rolls his eyes. “You’re one of the smartest students in our batch, and I kinda have been going through a lot with one of my assignments, so this idiot here told me to ask you for help.” He points to his companion, who salutes mockingly using two of his fingers. “It’s about the aftermath of war, and the effects it leaves on the intermingled classes of eighteenth century China. I’m very bad at writing shit. I confuse my statements; I fail at rearranging my paragraphs; I suck at choosing intellectual perspectives; and I most definitely can’t be on the neutral side to the point of sounding extremely radical. Would you help me write my research? It’s worth a bit of my marks considering I didn’t take the midterm for, ahem, certain reasons,” there’s a soft hue of red that glows in his cheeks, and feeling his blush, he scratches them with his long nails awkwardly.

“No.” The cute color doesn’t deter her at all, and she begins to collect her laptop and books to leave. Or, pretending to. She does not have any thought about leaving, not even when there’s a handsome stranger trying to invade her tranquil space. But, regardless of her wants, such gesture made the man nervous. He snaps his head up, eyes wide, and pushes himself to his feet quickly to stop her from leaving.

“Why not?” He begins to be angry. “Is this because you know who I am? Does my... Does our reputation precedes us?”

She gives him a cooly leveled look. “I only give favors to friends. You’re not a friend. Very simply. I couldn’t care less about your reputation, which does in fact precedes you. People tend to talk about things they don’t understand. The juiciest the gossip, the more people want to talk about it.” She pauses a little, confusedly staring at them. “Don’t you guys know that? When you wear these clothes, pierce all parts of your body, flash all of your tattoos, and walk around intimidating people, they will talk badly about you. Huh, I thought you guys are smart enough to discover this much about the nature of people.”

Whereas he looks startled out of his way with the sincerity in her words, It’s the companion who takes the time to speak. He asks her, his eyebrow raised. “Why’d you think we’re smart?”

She smirks at him, and he’s surprised that it’s actually playful, not malicious. “It’s only those that rebel the constant demands of society that have their heads teetered towards either intelligence, or insanity.” She slings her bag on her shoulder, her face going back to its previous expressionless slate. “Bye now.”

She doesn’t leave. She merely just stands and watches them watching her. It takes the two university boys a second to understand the implications behind her words, and when they do, they groan. They stand up, albeit slowly, and the shorter one dares to shoot her a grumpy, malicious glare, before walking away. The taller one simply tilts his head downwards in a respectable nod before following his friend.

Once they leave, she smiles, and the curl of her lips makes her face radiant, a whole lot flowery than the actual blanket of monochromatic nothingness that usually sticks on her all the time. She sits back down on her seat, opens her laptop, and begins to type again.

-

Oh the long road. Oh the long road. She sighs in her head, her legs heavy and unbalanced, almost sending her to the ground with how weak they feel. After almost six hours in university, with three classes and breaks in between, she’s finally done with all the nonsense that she, daily, has to face. Actually, university hasn’t been on her mind before in high school when she was in her senior year for this exact reason. She is too lazy for something overloaded like university. But, if she is being honest with herself, she doesn’t see herself in any place besides university, especially if she wants to have a ‘decent’ job. So, she tries to succumb to the voice compelling her to move forward, and ignoring the one that tells her to fuck everything and flop on the ground, dead.

A sound calling her name stops her in her long, angry strides, and she turns to the back to see her friend, Sami, waving for her, smiling so preciously that actual stars appear on her eyes. She’s not oblivious to the crowd gathering behind Sami, all males (and some females) staring at her with eyes twinkling with hearts. She reluctantly wave back, and Sami comes running towards her, beaming once she’s standing in front of her.

“You’re heading home?” Her friend asks.

She hums without a verbal consent. Her friend beams again.

“Great!” Sami loops their arms together. “Lets go together, and while we’re on the way, buy me a cocktail.”

“Alcohol this early? And why should I buy you one?” She raises an eyebrow up in ridicule, even though she already knows the answer to her rather dumb question.

Sami rolls her eyes. “No, an actual cocktail, with fruits and all. And you should buy me one because I’m your humble friend who asks nothing of you at all.”

“You ask for things all the time,” she narrows her eyes, and points at Sami’s earrings. “I bought you those earrings,” she points at her bag. “And I bought you this bag. And those shoes. I might as well buy you a house to live in if I’m already this much husband material.”

Sami grins, beaming, and her grip over her arm tightens. “It’d be so great if my future husband actually pays for all of my things. I’ll be a pretty, studious, working housewife that do things for him and accommodate all of his precious needs. Aw, I miss him already.”

“You should be careful not to say this in front of another woman that isn’t me.”

Sami blinks cluelessly. “Why? I didn’t say anything infuriating, did I?”

She pats her head sympathetically, her hand calloused despite the gentle, sardonic gesture. “Not at all. Not at all.”

They walk out of the university’s large grounds with Sami the one doing most of the talking, the bouncing, and the gleeful intervals; her grip tight around her arm, and her soft laughter surrounding them whole. She wouldn’t say that she was entirely comfortable about the concept of having a friend, but it has been two years now since she knew Sami, and she began to understand that in order to enjoy something beautiful, you have to watch it burn first, which’s why she, despite not liking it, disposed herself of her antisocial behavior, and stuck around with Sami.

Upon the huge gates of the university, she catches sight of the two students who had interrupted her morning study with their obnoxious presence. They’re standing in front, one of them - the tall one - is leaning against the large beige wall beside the gates, and the nuisance - the one requesting - is crouching on the floor right beside him, a fake cigar made of paper in between his fingers. They’re already staring at her, anticipating her exit. When her eyes meet the dark ones of the crouching guy, he smirks, his pink lips thin and inviting. He puts the fake paper in his mouth, pretending to inhale, and then pulls it off to exhale loudly, his eyes suddenly half lidded. He’s staring at her. She stares back, then she narrows her eyes, ticking her chin to the side in a silent request for him to look away. His smirk widens, and he doesn’t look away; his eyes invading her soul to the point she feels something scratch at the surface of her skin, begging to be released.

She scoffs. And almost as if he’s hearing her, he waggles his eyebrows teasingly. She blanches, disgusted, and her facial expression catches Sami’s attention.

“Who’re you looking at?” Sami turns to follow her friend’s eyes before she can look away, furrowing her eyes upon seeing the two boys. She turns to her friend curiously; nervously. “Do you... do you know them?”

She’s quick to shake her head, “Nah, I don’t know them outside the rumors that I heard circulating about them. I think one of their names starts with a B? Or an H? Anyhow, I don’t know who they are.”

“Why are they looking at you?”

She shrugs. “Beats me. Probably think I’m a visible, touchable time loop or something. That’d be cool. Have you ever seen Doctor Strange?”

Sami stares at her as if she’s an alien. “What on earth are you talking about?”

She shakes her head. “Never mind. Let’s quicken our pace. Maybe we’ll lose them in the crowd.”

As if hearing their words, the two boys jump to their feet (the one standing merely bouncing around) and they follow after them like two little creeps. They don’t say anything for a while, like announce their already large presence, and she ticks her head backwards with raised eyebrows, meeting their amused - yet frustrated - faces. She tilts her head, silently asking them about what the fuck they’re doing, and the shorter one of the two shrugs, the taller one smirking a little, the cigarette roll that was wrapped around the other’s mouth now in his. She looks away.

Sami notices her friend’s head going forward and backward, and turn around to give them a funny look, a little nervous for some reason. She looks back at her friend and pulls at her sleeve, a frozen smile on her face. “They’re following us.”

“If there’s an ice cube, large enough to have legs and is following me, and the world is so flabbergasted by it’s appearance, but you’re only concerned about taking your way home without interruptions. Would something happen if I gave it attention? No, you know why?“ she leans closer to Sami and with her big, wide eyes, she whispers. “Because it’ll melt away.”

Sami shakes her head in exasperation. Even after two years of being friends with her; she’s never getting used to her random thought processes. Either-way, Sami doesn’t feel entitled enough to say anything against that, and although she releases a little grumble from her chest in irritation at the skin contact, she doesn’t remove her arm away. Smiling, she leans her head on her shoulder.

“Yah. You can’t just pretend we don’t exist.” The shorter one says, or yells really.

His friend scoffs, and it’s strangely shudder-inducing because of his low grating voice. “We’ll follow you home if destiny calls.”

Sami lifts her head to peek at them, then quickly looks at her calm, astute friend. “Are you not going to answer?”

“A bird could constantly peck on my window and I wouldn’t shoo it away. I’m too lazy.”

Sami’s eyes mellow down, and her lips smile. “But that’s exactly what you do, sweetie. You can’t handle disturbances, especially when it affects your general surroundings.”

“You’re right. I’m going to kick their ass.” She stops in her gait, turns around, and glares; Sami stopping next to her. The two university boys pause in their strides, blinking.

“Question, exactly why was I chosen among the high grades receiving bastards in our class?” She raises her eyebrows up. “Is it because you think I’m easy? Or I’m a woman? Is it because you think I’m nice?” She says nice as if it’s a heinous word created for her personal offense.

The boys share a confused look. Then, the tall one clears his throat, readying himself for the paragraph he’s about to spout. “I’ve never once thought you’re easy, and neither have Baekhyun. We’ve seen the way you talked back to the teachers, and man, do you have a temper. I’m actually a bit shaky right now because I’m asking this favor of you. I’m not a misogynist, man. Why’d you make me something I’m not. love women. I love all wonen. Perhaps a little too much,” Baekhyun, the short guy beside him, is nodding his head sadly, “I’d have told Baekhyun to choose Dahyeon if I thought she was as responsible as you are. But the girl’s a klutz. She ruined a paper of mine once. Won’t let her do it again,” he then tilts his head, his confused face getting graver. “I’m sure as fuck you’re not kind, or nice. I wouldn’t have already been going through emotional trauma just by the thought of approaching you, yet, here we are.”

“Here we are.” Baekhyun spreads his arm with a surrendering look flashing on his handsome face.

Sami turns to her friend and analyzes the stone cold expression on her face. She hesitates, for a second, before she says. “They do have a point. You’ve traumatized half of the population in this university.”

“We still have two more years for you to traumatize the rest.” Baekhyun comments cheekily. When she shoots him a glare, he winks. She’s a little surprised. She hadn’t met anyone who winked at her deadly stare-offs. People are terrified of her, not amused of her.

“How many pages do you want your assignment to be? Mine’s going to be a minimum of eight, considering it’s only a meager homework, so I’ll try to shove your own pages between my breaks to save time.”

Their eyes go wide. Baekhyun actually gulps, unprepared for the challenge. “You write eight pages for an assignment worth ten marks?”

She raises her eyebrows. “You’re here begging for help for this stupid assignment, so I guess we’re both pulling up our shits, right?”

He shuts up.

It’s the tall one that answers. “Any page number is fine. Take your pick.”

She nods, “You’ll have five pages, then. I take breaks in between my classes. I have two-to-three classes for five days aside Saturdays and Tuesdays, so we’ll write two pages every week until its due date in three weeks’ time,” she takes her phone and shoves it in the chest of the short guy. “Give me your number so I text you the hours I’m free on. I don’t give a shit if our schedules overlap. When I tell you to come, you come, with your laptop and all of your writing necessities with you. One mistake and you’re out, get it?”

Baekhyun sweats, especially since her expression is deadly serious and her hand, which is still clutching her phone on his chest is cold, deadly so. He gulps anyway and nods. “Thank you, really. Appreciate it. Is there anything I can do for you to repay the favor?”

She smirks, and pulls her hand off of his chest after he accepts the phone. “A bad boy who knows how to say thank you? That’s a new one. And keep the favor until after you deliver your assignment. I’m not sure you’ll wanna give me any favors after I’m done with you. Say, are you willing to pay money?”

He pales. “I’m poor as fuck, ma’am, expected of a university student, right? Please say yes.”

She smirks again, amused of the panic in his eyes. “Relax, idiot. Just wanna check something.” She turns to the tall one. He’s staring right back at her, eyes wide and brown hair fluffy. For a bit, she’s taken aback by the actual fact of how gorgeous he is. Wide, almond eyes, soft hair, tall girth like a skyscraper, and she fucking loves skyscrapers, the taller, the better. He’s wearing a weird mesh of jeans, a t-shirt, and a jacket, but he’s also wearing a sweater on top. He must be sweating in there. His wide eyes turn a little confused when she merely gapes at him, and she notices. She clears her throat, and rolls her eyes so the spectators don’t notice she’s a weird bitch.

“What’s your name?” She asks coldly. There’s a strange warmth circulating her body, but of course, she ignores that.

“Sorry?” He splutters.

She lifts a sleek eyebrow up, holding herself from smirking widely. “Your name,” she points at Baekhyun, who’s blinking down at her phone like it’s a foreign industrial scam. “This moron’s Baekhyun. Kinda noticed you mention his name. What’s your name? I’m a bit curious to know about the chaperone’s name, considering they’re always so ignored and unappreciated in movies.”

He looks a bit flustered, as if he hasn’t noticed he has been a chaperone all this time. He wipes the slight vulnerability that flashed earlier, twirls the paper stick in his mouth, and gives her a mock salute. “Chanyeol, ma’am, but don’t bother memorizing it. We wouldn’t be seeing each other enough for the need of that.”

She doesn’t comment on his words even though she’s curious. She merely tells herself he’s as weird as she is, probably a little arrogant, but of course not as her. No one’s as arrogant as her. She sits on the throne of arrogance. Her parents once thought she had narcissistic syndrome, those assholes, but dismissed it later on when she gave them enough evidence she wasn’t. She pays attention to Baekhyun, coughing to alert him of the actual fact he has been taking too much time typing gibberish on her phone, and not his phone number. She swears to God he probably failed to reach her contacts. He looked like a dumb loser up close like that, but she didn’t want to judge him so severely. A guy who winks at her instead of shit his pants must be a dumbass, but again, she doesn’t want to judge.

Baekhyun looks up from her phone upon her cough, smirks his annoyingly attractive smirk, and juggle the phone towards her (after locking it, for some reason) she tries catching her phone, and thankfully she succeeds. She glares, about to scold him about the degrading act of her precious gadget, when he all but announces.

“We’ll go see our own way now. Thank you for such precious moment. Perhaps we’ll be able to create more while avoiding chopped heads, from your part, of course. May the grounds open up to present you with a fortunate gift,” he does a whole theatrics of bowing, while simultaneously taking a step back, bumping into an unamused Chanyeol. “Adios, my lady.”

He turns around to Chanyeol, who whispers something to him. They begin to walk away, and Baekhyun says something to the taller guy, in retaliation, which earns him an eye roll. Not taking this lightly, Baekhyun jumps - to reach the tall giant - so he can wrap his arm around his neck, and pulls him into a headlock. Chanyeol doesn’t fight. He lets himself be dragged like a deadweight doll, like he’s used to such abuse, and she shakes her head. Chanyeol seemed cool with his indifference, but perhaps he isn’t the one in total control here.

Sami calls her softly, and forgetting her only friend for a bit - the two boys have extremely large presence - she turns to her. She offers a small smile, showing a dimple to her left side, and Sami beams.

“I’m not even going to ask what the heck just happened,” she offers her a hand, Sami; and she looks at it weirdly. “Ready to go home?”

Sighing, she accepts the hand, and agrees to be dragged home. Sami looks down at their hands; and thinks a little, her brows going all intersected. She shrugs, cooly intertwining their fingers together. She doesn’t even blink at the gesture, having been used to it. Out of character, the only thing on her mind at the moment is those two, strange university men.

-

Author Note:

So?

We haven’t got anything grounded yet. We still have a lot to cover! The personality of ChanBaek is beautiful, stick to see our dumb yet gorgeous boys.

Also, if you haven’t noticed already, our OC is freaking DANGEROUS! Chanbaek are in for a ride!

[ushioink]

This is my first time posting in this site. I’m trying things, lmao. I already posted this in AFF, but considering the website is slow these past few months, I figured I’ll check if anyone’s interested here..

Title: Careful,

Characters: Baekhyun & Chanyeol | OC.

Genres: Poly!ChanyeolXBaekhyunXColdOC, flufffffffff, comedy, feisty characters, drama, funny stuff.

Description: She’s the lone wolf that only little people were brave enough to befriend. Now, it’s their turn. In need of a favor, badboys Baekhyun and Chanyeol approach her for help. Will they succeed in breaking down her walls?

| Part 1 | | Part 2 |