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prettywordsyouleft · 6 years ago

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Incantation

Summary: With the enchantment of his voice and guitar, Sewoon was able to withdraw the thoughts of his audience to help him progress as a singer. He heard their thoughts, their issues and their dreams. But he never heard yours.

Characters: Jeong Sewoon x reader

Genre: fluff/ witchcraft au

A/N: Second fiction for this week! I’ve always had a love affair for Jeong Sewoon whenever he’s paired with his guitar… his voice is just everything to me, and so I knew I had to write something in this monthly theme with him enchanting us all! I hope you enjoy it!

Word count: 3081

He sat on the stool, closing his eyes as his fingers plucked at the strings of his guitar in a perfect rhythm, the beautiful sounds quietening the small crowd of the bar. He smiled to himself before his voice joined in, hearing a couple of audible gasps from the audience at his tone.

Sewoon knew he sounded appealing, his voice oozing with a tone that even he himself was proud to own. It had taken years to sound this good. Countless hours of working through his vocal limitations, and many sessions of thumbing at his guitar with painful cracked skin and calluses. He had done it all to get to here. To be able to share his music with others. To captivate an audience with just his voice and guitar.

To reap the rewards from doing so.

His ears pricked as the first thought came to his mind, his eyes casually glancing to the girl in the front row. She blushed deeply when his eyes met hers, and her thoughts hit his mind in a fast stream, Sewoon barely catching all of it.

“If only I could sing a song about how to capture hearts. I believe love songs are the best!”

He nodded his head, he had sung many love songs before, in fact the song he was uttering right now was a shy love confession. He shifted in his chair slightly at his song choice tonight, looking across to you in the very back and sucking in some air before moving on to a man near you when his voice reached his ears.

“I reckon he could suit testing his power in a rock ballad. Something edgy, his voice could do it.”

Sewoon huffed, he knew he could, but it wasn’t really his style. He liked singing the way he was, and his new song was one of his favourite kind of sounds. Relaxed, and reliant on the varying shades of his voice. Plus, he needed his guitar to perform, and rock wouldn’t really suit his acoustic sound.

As the song came to an end, he sighed, the crowd hadn’t really offered much tonight. Bowing in gratitude, he climbed off the stage and went to get his drink from the bar, smiling at you from the other side of the counter that you were now back behind.

“Another great performance,” you mentioned with a smile and he nodded distractedly, thanking you for his honey water – a must have after being on stage. You had been gracious enough in giving him these every Friday and Saturday night, and he had come to think of you much like honey himself. You had stuck in his brain ever since he had met you here, and your smiles made him feel warm and gooey. He hated that you made him feel that way, especially after nights like tonight.

He hadn’t gotten anything from the crowd.

“It could have been better,” he admitted, and you cocked your head to the side. Sewoon smiled. “It’s not easy trying to captivate them sometimes.”

You scoffed. “Everyone was hanging off your words tonight, are you blind Sewoon?!”

Not you though, he thought to himself, sighing heavily. Out of every performance he’d done here, you hadn’t once offered him anything when he performed. Sure you’d smile a little as you wiped glasses and stacked them, or glanced over in his direction whilst pouring someone a drink.

But he hadn’t heard you yet. And it was driving him insane.

You see, Sewoon had tried. The hours in the studio, the vocal training, the calluses, they all came to a head one day when he was prepared to give being a musician up. And then he met some unfortunate soul at the right time for him, and the wrong time for them. They exchanged guitars, the man all but throwing his into Sewoon’s grip and taking his old, beaten, barely worth a dime of an instrument. He had never understood it at first.

But over time he realised the struggles of that musician. It wasn’t a guitar for just anyone. Because when he strummed his fingers over the strings, it made a melody that he had never thought he could conjure. And his voice suddenly fit the bill too. Sewoon wasn’t stupid, he knew the guitar was the reason he was succeeding now. He couldn’t quite explain it, but the underside had an engraving upon it that he couldn’t read, it was in a language not known to this world. He had tried to find it, and the closest he had come was to faery folklore. But he wasn’t so sure he could truly delve that deep into that kind of world, accepting the guitar had some kind of magic to it, and coupled with his voice, it made people fall in love with him.

Like an incantation, he put a spell on his audience, and hoped to receive in return.

The first time he had, he had almost stopped singing. He heard a young girl’s inner thoughts over her boyfriend, and how she wished he would realise how much she loved him. It had frightened him to look into her dreamy expression from his voice, and hear so much of what was tumbling around from within.

And then he realised how great her troubles would make for a new song.

After releasing that, he heard another voice, and wrote a song about caring for someone out of their reach. And from there he became greedy, his new songs all coming from the voices he heard when he performed. He had always struggled with his lyrics until his guitar found him.

Now he had everything going so well for him. Except you.

At first Sewoon insisted to himself that he didn’t need your thoughts, since on average he could get at least three song ideas from singing at the bar each night. That kept him busy and his music fresh. Ideally, he didn’t need you to help him with his lyrics when he was hearing everyone else around him. But over time, you were the only person he didn’t hear anything from. It intrigued him; he just wanted to hear from you once. To see what hid behind your pretty little smile that he had grown attached to. To see if your thoughts were as addicting as sinking into your eyes were.

You tapped your fingers on the bar counter loudly in front of him then, and he blinked rapidly. You smirked. “You did it again. Have I got something on my face? Always staring, Jeong Sewoon.”

“Uh, sorry,” he admitted, though he smiled all the same. You liked when he did. “Were you saying anything?”

“I might have complimented you on tonight’s song. It was, different.” He watched your cheeks flush with colour and his own skin grew hot from it.

His song might have been a bust tonight, but he was glad you liked it. It was one of his own for a change. He hadn’t written for himself in the past year since finding his guitar. But the song had formed itself over several dreams he had. Dreams of you. He had written it a month ago, and taken this long to have the courage to sing it.

He had learned that the songs from himself weren’t so popular, and should have guessed Eye 2 Eye wouldn’t be successful in drawing in new voices.

“Perhaps my own lyrics don’t do enough for others,” he concluded and then realised he had said it out loud when you placed your hand down on the bar top again. He glanced up at you, your eyes wide and shaking your head at him.

“Tonight’s song was my favourite,” you insisted and he couldn’t help but grin. But he held the rest of his thoughts in check. He didn’t want you to know just how giddy he felt then. Not yet anyway. He hadn’t made it big enough on his music, and he hadn’t heard you. As soon as he had, he’d confess.

He just hoped that moment would happen soon.

_____________________

A couple of months passed by and Sewoon was frustrated. His content was better than ever, but you were different, more distant from him. He couldn’t understand why. He had initially thought you had perhaps gotten a boyfriend with all of his stalling, and pulled back because of that. But you were still single so Gwanghyun, his friend that also worked the bar with you, had insisted. It confused Sewoon then, wondering what he had done that would make you barely smile at him anymore. You were still like honey to him, but now the kind that made it hard to swallow when you had spooned too much in at once. He was troubled, sometimes not paying attention to the voices he heard, and trying to capture your attention instead. He wondered if his guitar was up to no good, but he knew better. It was still sending out its spell, charming the audience to share with him.

Finally, you gave him an answer, though he hadn’t been prepared for it at all. He had watched you as he sung a song about two guys liking the same girl who always wore red, his eyes flickering to his subject that was a return member of his audience tonight. She seemed to look down at her red dress and then back up him in surprise, clapping her hands together and then turning to one of the guys on her right. By the time Sewoon found you again, your eyes were dark and dangerous. His voice cracked for the first time in a live performance and the crowd gasped.

He was thankful the song was quickly over, and after signing a couple of autographs, and packing up his guitar, he went over to the bar, you all but throwing a drink at him.

“Sorry, we’re all out of honey today.”

Sewoon took the water gingerly, and tried to smile. “That’s okay. Is, is everything alright with you?”

You looked like you were about to speak, but your eyes travelled around the bar for a moment, landing on someone behind him before narrowing back on his own face. He gulped, you were thunderous.

“Gwanghyun, watch the counter, yeah?” you barely got out through gritted teeth to the fellow bartender, who exchanged a warning look at Sewoon as you charged around the counter and dragged him and his guitar into the back storage room. Shutting the door, you firmly placed your arms over your chest.

“What the hell is your deal?!”

“I … uh… what?” he spluttered, your face was so twisted up. He couldn’t tell if it was anger or hurt that was more evident in your swirling eyes, and he couldn’t find his voice to ask further.

Thankfully you had a lot to say. “You’re a fraud.”

He froze.

“You know, as a bartender, I hear a lot of stories about people. You pour them a couple of drinks, and sometimes, someone will tell you their life story. I try to be polite and listen to them, but then I let their words go. How are you doing it Sewoon?! How are you hearing their problems or feelings and making them into songs?! How can you take from others like that? At first I just felt déjà vu with some of your songs. But tonight confirmed it. Jessi is the muse for tonight’s song, the lady in red! Right?!”

He didn’t know where to begin or what to say and you heaved in air, shaking a little at the confrontation. How could he even tell you? That the guitar he owns sends the voices to him and captivates him with their dramas to write them into lyrics? That he’d be a useless nobody without their support in his music. That sometimes he avoided singing songs so beautifully written because they held someone else’s pain in them? It wasn’t fair that he had zero talent to rely on. Sewoon felt his mood plummet the further he tried to find a solution.

He would need to find another bar to work in. This thought alone made him feel so cowardly; he lowered his head in shame.

You groaned. “Sewoon?!”

“I’m listening.”

“You’re not answering me though, how can you sing about others like that?! I thought, I thought you had a gift, but really, you’re just stealing inspiration from other people’s situations.”

He glanced up then, finding a small amount of courage as he gripped at his guitar case handle. “Isn’t that what artists do? Draw inspiration from others?”

“There’s a limit to it though, shouldn’t you experience it?!”

“I have,” he defended, thinking back over songs he had sung this year, a lot of them about being in a one-sided crush. He could definitely relate to that. “I’ve experienced a lot of what I sing.”

“Oh really,” you challenged, shaking your head a moment later. “I don’t even know why I’m this worked up at you.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You don’t owe me an apology! You’re not stealing my thoughts!”

“That’s because I can’t hear them!” he blurted out, his eyes growing wide momentarily. You were silent, but appeared curious as to what he meant. He groaned and nodded once. He would tell you. He told you how he had no true talent until the guitar came into his world. That he struggled with lyrics that people could relate to. How he came to hear the voices, the muses to his songs. How playing at the bar enchanted others. Except you. And how much it frustrated him. He spilled it all out, so much that he was kind of stunned when he was finished. Sewoon had never told anyone about any of this.

For an immeasurable moment, you were quiet, contemplating all he had said to you. And then you felt the tears in your eyes, wiping at them quickly in hopes he wouldn’t see them. But he did and he moved closer, reaching to rub away the tear stains on one of your cheeks. You bit at your lip at his gesture and Sewoon only then clicked onto what he was doing.

“I’m sorry, I-”

“Who’s thoughts belonged to that one song I liked, Sewoon?” you whispered and he frowned for a moment, trying to recollect the song you meant. “The one you thought didn’t do well, but I loved. Who owns those lyrics?”

He was struck by your words, his throat drying up. You were talking about his song. The one he had written for you. It had been you that had been behind those lyrics, a sweet confession of how he loved you.

“Sewoon?” you called to him, staring into his eyes. He smiled, just like the song lyrics.

“You do.”

You were taken aback, tilting your head to the side. “You just said you hadn’t once heard-”

“I mean, I wrote them, for you.”

You stilled, and he waited with bated breath for your next reaction. Suddenly you blinked rapidly. “But why, aren’t I frustrating you like you said?”

“I was frustrated that I could never find a way to tell you how I felt, because you never gave over your inner voice, I was worried on how to approach you the right way. On whether you liked me too. The lyrics in that song, they’re about you.”

“Oh.” You seemed stuck again, and he didn’t know what more to do. His hands itched to grab you, his eyes zeroed in on your lips in the dim lighting. But he waited. You had been far too angry with him before. He didn’t want to push too hard and lose you completely. He already thought he had. Finally you glanced up at him and smiled lightly. “Could you, could you sing it again to me?”

“Now?”

You nodded. “Do you even remember the lyrics?”

He almost laughed. He couldn’t forget them like he couldn’t forget to breathe. They were embedded in his mind always; because they had been his first proper lyrics of his own he performed.

Sewoon bent to pull out his guitar, standing upright quickly as he slung it over his shoulder. He was nervous, and he wasn’t normally when he went to perform. But this was for you and you only.

He began to sing for you, his voice echoing a little in the space you were in. And like everyone else who stood before him when he sang, you were captivated. But in a different way. There was no dreamy gaze, or looking as if you were under a spell. He could see your eyes brighten when he mentioned how you were pretty in a different way each day. How moved you were when he got to the bridge, the part where he expressed his hesitations on how to tell you his feelings. He held you up to the very last line, and then the room succumbed to silence again, a slight ringing of the last strum of his guitar still in his ear.

“Do you want to hear my inner voice now?” you asked and Sewoon smiled.

“It doesn’t work that way, it happens when I play-”

“I like when you smile too. Every time I see you it makes my heart beat faster. When you get lost staring into my eyes, I’ve always hoped it was because you liked me. It gave me time to gaze at you too. My answer is yes Sewoon.”

“Yes?” he managed, his breathing feeling unhinged at your words.

You nodded, reaching forward to for his hand, gently intertwining yours with his. “You’re not a bad person for what you’re doing. But I like your songs better. You should sing them more than other people’s ones. Your thoughts are my favourite. And I’ll tell you, like you asked in your song, yes, I want to see you tomorrow too.”

Sewoon swallowed, he hadn’t expected this when you had dragged him in here. But he wasn’t complaining. Because you had answered his lyrics. And there was only one thing left for him to do. Leaning in closer, he hesitated only a second before pressing his lips to yours, his soul feeling as though it was singing its own song now as you kissed him back.

He wasn’t talent-less. Sure, the guitar helped, even now. But you had liked his love song for you.

He only hoped you’d like the rest to come.

________________

Welcome to Frightful October, a collab between myself and @this-song-thats-only-for-you ... this week’s theme is Spellbound! To follow more of the stories check out the links below:

Other stories in Spellbound: Superstitious // Incantation // Love Spell // A Gift

Frightful October Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Request Guidelines

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