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0cta9on · 4 months ago

Text

Sunburn

Length: 1.6k words

Genre: Fluff

Young Posse Sunhye x Male Reader

(Author's Note: Something short and sweet. Still working on that other draft I mentioned before :> Enjoy!)

【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★

“If only you applied yourself.”

“If only you paid more attention in class.”

“If only you stopped doodling in your notebook.”

The hum of the prehistoric monitor sitting before you is a familiar tune, yet one that doesn’t cease to fill you with dread. Every year, you’re met with the same song and dance about your troublesome grades, and every year, they think the best solution is to shove you into the computer lab for hours on end with the other unfortunate knuckleheads. It’s less of a summer school and more of an excuse to keep the “troublemakers” off the streets while the good little boys and girls get to actually enjoy their summer.

Admittedly, it could be worse. The geriatric dinosaur of a teacher always dozes off in the first 10 minutes of class, leaving the rest of you to your own devices. Everyone else has already formed their own little cliques that you have no desire to be a part of, so you’re content with messing around on MS paint for the better part of two hours.

You lean back in your chair, stretching out the pain in your lower back. Not your best work, but it’s the best you can do while drawing with a mouse.

“Cool drawing.”

“Hm?” Your head snaps towards the voice, being met with a soft pair of eyes and a modest bob cut, both of which are strikingly unfamiliar. “Oh. Thanks.”

“I like the shading and stuff. Makes it really pop.”

“Yeah…” you murmur awkwardly, unsure of what to make of this interaction. The girl gives you a nod before looking back at her own computer, watching some dance video with the volume muted. Has she always been sitting next to you?

The bell rings before you can linger on the moment any longer, and you’re out the door faster than the teacher can put on her glasses correctly. Right before the computer lab exits your view, you catch a glimpse of the girl snapping a photo of the drawing on your computer.

______________________________________________________________

“Hey!”

As you enter the computer lab once again, you see the same girl from yesterday eagerly waving you down. You look behind you to see if she’s talking to someone else, but nope, her vibrant gaze and buck toothed smile are aimed right at you.

“Um, hey.” You take your usual seat, which, unbeknownst to you for God knows how long, is right next to hers. “I’m sorry, do I know you?”

“I don’t know, shouldn’t you be asking yourself that?” she shoots back.

Her strange response leaves you stunned in your chair, searching your memory for a face that matches hers. Maybe she’s an old friend from your childhood or someone you’ve worked on a project with and promptly forgot about. However, nothing comes up other than the sudden interaction from yesterday.

“I guess… I don’t know you?” you say to yourself more than her. She chuckles at you, finding amusement in your confusion.

“I’ll make it easy for you: No, we’ve never met before yesterday.”

You sigh, already exhausted by her odd behavior. “Okay…” You pull up MS paint, hoping she’ll leave you alone, but of course, your prayers fall on deaf ears.

“What are you gonna draw today?” she asks, leaning a bit too close for comfort.

“Uh, I don’t know yet,” you reply, “Whatever comes to me, I guess.”

“Cool.” She nods in contemplation. “So, is that, like, your creative process or—”

“Hey, you two!” the teacher croaks out. “No talking!”

You give her an apologetic look, sinking deeper into your chair as the heat rushes to your cheeks from the unwanted attention. Hopefully the sudden spike in her blood pressure won’t keep her up longer than she usually is. The last thing you need is this octogenarian raisin breathing down your neck alongside the weirdo sitting next to you.

Thankfully, it doesn’t take long for her to knock out on her desk, albeit a couple minutes later than she usually does. A cautious glance to the side reveals the girl wearing big headphones, bobbing along to a music video on the computer, leaving you to doodle on the screen to your heart’s content.

You don’t really have a process for these things; if you’re given the luxury of time and solitude, maybe you’ll take a breath to figure out a clear picture to capture onto whatever canvas you’re working with. But on today of all days, you let the lines speak for themselves while you think about everything except drawing. What you had for breakfast this morning. What you’re planning on doing later. What the cute girl in your pre-calc class might be doing right now. Anything to pass the time that doesn’t involve more than a hint of effort to think about.

Oftentimes, the end product is a surprise to you. Whatever it is that you’ve been holding inside manifests itself onto the screen in a mess of lines and pixels. Last week, it was the piece of cake you had for dessert the night before. Yesterday, it was a character from a show you just started watching. Today, it’s…

“Is that me?”

A whisper from the side makes you jump in your seat. “W-what?”

“Your drawing.” The girl points up at your screen, wearing a thin smile and glint of intrigue in her eyes. “That looks like me.”

You scoff at her. “No, it’s not—” A single glance is all you need to learn the horrifying truth. Normally, anything you create with a mouse is subpar to what you can do with a pencil, but this - It’s way better than anything you could ever hope to produce on paper.

The soft texture of her hair, the gentle puff of her cheeks, hell, you even included the chunky headphones she’s wearing. You might as well have asked her to jump onto the screen for you.

“Th-that’s not… I-I didn’t…” you stutter, desperately searching for a reasonable explanation that you don’t have.

“It’s fine,” she says, “Crushes are perfectly normal for boys your age.”

Heat rushes to your cheeks. “I-I don’t have a…! I don’t even know you!”

She reaches a hand towards you, flashing a cheeky smirk at your expense. “Sunhye.”

“Well, Sunhye,” you sneer, ignoring her attempt at a handshake, “It’s not you. It’s, uh, some other girl.”

“Right.” She raises an eyebrow at you, clearly not convinced. “Maybe you should stick to drawing, I don’t think your acting career will get very far.”

“W-whatever.” You hurriedly try to close out the window, ridding yourself of the mess that you accidentally created, but a soft touch against your hand sends a wave of electricity through your body, freezing you in place.

“Wait! Let me take a pic first!” Sunhye exclaims, her hand on top of yours. She snaps a picture, giggling to herself, while you’re left to sit there like an idiot.

“This is pretty cool, you should consider doing this for a living,” she teases.

“Uh… Yeah. Thanks.”

The bell rings, and you’re out the door before she can say another word. Not even the summer sun can compare to the heat dancing on your cheeks.

______________________________________________________________

The monotonous drone of the computers is a lot louder today without Sunhye bugging you. Peace at last, you think - but five minutes into class, before the teacher has even begun to nod off, you find yourself stealing glances at the empty seat next to you, almost expecting her to suddenly appear out of thin air.

A weird feeling finds its home in the pit of your stomach as you stare at the blank screen in front of you, void of any inspiration. You even consider actually doing your assignments for once to pass the time, but you’re not that bored. You have access to the entire world at your fingertips, yet all you can seem to do is rest your head on the table and wait until the bell rings.

“Let’s get out of here.”

A familiar voice whispers lightly against your ear, you almost believe it to be a trick of the mind. And yet, the hand nudging against your shoulder feels very, very real.

You look up, finding yourself face to face with a soft pair of eyes and a modest bob cut. “What?” you ask her.

“I said let’s get out of here,” Sunhye reiterates. “It’s clear neither of us are here to do any actual work, so let’s go.”

“B-but…” You take a quick scan of the room. The teacher is knocked out and the rest of the students are doing what they’ve always done, paying the two of you no mind. It would be so easy to just dip out without a second thought. Too easy not to raise a few red flags, really.

“Where would we even go?”

She shrugs. “I don’t know. Who cares?”

A cheeky grin grows on your face, mirroring the expression she’s been holding this whole time. You’re not the smartest person on the planet, and no amount of schooling or stern talking-to’s will ever change that. Maybe you’re not destined to be some bigwig doctor, but surely there’s more to life than sitting in front of a computer and waiting for something to happen, right?

And so, you take this strange girl’s hand and you run like crazy until your legs feel like anchors and each breath creates fire in your lungs. Your shoes squeak against the linoleum floor before meeting the heated concrete outside, each step punctuated with a kick of dust in its wake. In the moment, it feels like sweat stains and burning skin, but it’s all very picturesque in your memory, frame by frame ripped straight from a stylistic indie film. In the sea of summers spent wasting your time, this one feels like the first cold shock of dipping your toe into the ocean, waking you up to experience the rest of your life with open eyes.

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0cta9on · 3 months ago

Text

Sunscreen

Length: 1.8k words

Genre: Fluff

Young Posse Sunhye x Male Reader

(Author's Note: Kind of a sequel to Sunburn! You don't have to read that to understand this, but I would appreciate it if you did :] Enjoy!)

【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★

“When are you gonna let me see it?” Sunhye asks for the millionth time, nudging your ribs softly enough to not mess up your lines, but hard enough to still annoy you.

You sigh in frustration, hiding your notebook from her view. “If you keep asking, it’ll be never.”

The chirping cicadas fill the impending silence as Sunhye resigns herself to plucking blades of grass out of the ground. Sunlight peaks through the gaps in the branches above, yet the cooling breeze still offers solace against the summer heat. The air smells fresher on this secluded hill you’ve claimed as your “secret hangout spot”, away and untouched by judgemental eyes and prying hands. A simple spot just for the two of you to be who you want to be.

Sunhye lets out a long exhale, resting her head against the base of the tree you consider to be a second home. “I talked to my parents about the Korea trip,” she says.

Your hand freezes in the middle of shading. “What’d they say?”

“They’re still making me go.” She tosses the pieces of grass in the air, watching them flit against the current of the wind before disappearing into the surrounding greenery. “My cousin’s birthday is soon, so I don’t really have a choice.”

“Dammit,” you utter, brushing the eraser shavings off your notebook. “Is it a cool cousin?”

She sighs. “Yeah. She’s pretty cool. She owns a VR headset.”

“So you get to go to your cool cousin’s birthday while I have to spend the rest of my summer alone?!”

“Sorry, bud,” she says, patting your shoulder. A dejected huff leaves your lips as you whittle away at your pencil with your pocket knife, sharpening its tip. Suddenly, the undeniable grumble of a stomach cuts through the background noise. In the midst of the trees where time seems to fade from existence, it’s easy to forget that you’re still human.

“Hm… Ice cream?” Sunhye suggests.

You tuck your notebook under your arm and your tools in your pocket, patting the resulting bump at your side to make sure everything is there.

“Obviously.”

______________________________________________________________

Sweet, sweet vanilla, simplicity at its finest. Sunhye has given you more than enough crap for liking such a “boring” flavor, but you’ve learned to tune out most of her yapping at this point.

“…Hello?” She waves her hand in front of your face, forcibly ripping you from your daydreams. “Are you even listening to me?”

Sometimes you forget to flip the switch off.

“Totally,” you say, taking another slow lick at your ice cream. “But on the off chance I wasn’t, you should remind me again.”

Sunhye jabs your arm, making you nearly drop your vanilla cone. “You’re an ass.”

You lean back against the old wooden bench, carefully listening to the octave of its creak to ensure you don’t break through it. “Yeah yeah, my bad,” you offer. “What were you talking about?”

She shakes her head at you. “Nope.”

“C’mon, please?”

“Nuh uh.” A drop of rainbow-colored cream melts onto her hand, leaking through her fingers before hitting the burning concrete below. She takes a moment to lick away the meltier bits overflowing over the top of the cone, ensuring that the $5 you spent on her doesn’t go to waste. “You should’ve listened the first time.”

“I’ll listen the second time, promise.”

“Tsk, fine.” A beat passes before she continues, the silence brief yet noticeable. “The guy in my dance class asked me out.”

“Huh?” Your eyes widen in shock. “Which one? Backwards hat guy or weird jacket guy?”

Her cheeks burn redder than a sunburn from embarrassment. “U-uh, it was, uh, weird jacket guy.”

“Weird jack— What!?” You shoot up from your seat, flinging drops of melted vanilla everywhere. “What did you say to him?”

“No, obviously. He’s, um, not really my type.”

You nod, shifting your gaze to hide the inkling of a grin dancing on the corner of your lip. “Ah. Well, what can you do?”

“Y-yeah, right.”

More than half of your ice cream is reduced to a milky puddle before you have the sense to finish the rest of it. Even as the sun continues to beat down its unbearable heat on your head, the creamy notes of vanilla have never been more refreshing.

______________________________________________________________

Through all the hand cramps and itchy skin, you don’t stop moving. Create a line, create a few more, hate it just enough, and then erase and redo. Not the most productive cycle, but if every mistake brings you even a smidge closer to some form of “perfection”, then you’ll gladly stay under this tree for a thousand years until your pencil is reduced to a nub and your notebook has witnessed countless errors.

Only, you don’t have a thousand years.

Sunhye pokes a stick into the dirt, groaning impatiently as clueless little ants scale the makeshift pole. “Are you done yet? My flight is in a couple hours and my parents are gonna be pissed at me if I don’t get home in time.”

“Just… a second…” you mutter. Sweat beads on your forehead with each drag of the lead against the paper, your work growing sloppier and harsher by the second.

She sighs. “Just text me a pic when you’re done and I’ll see it when I land.”

“Wait!” You grab onto her shoulder just as she moves to get up, gripping harder than you probably should be. Sunhye furrows an eyebrow, yet sits back down anyways, reading the desperation in your eyes.

“Fine,” she huffs, “You get five minutes.”

A breath you didn’t know you were holding empties from your lungs as you release her shoulder from your grip. “Thanks.”

A thousand years wouldn’t have been enough to make it perfect. A billion years wouldn’t have been enough. Time could stand still, only unfreezing when you finally create the perfect drawing, but you would only be cursing yourself to a motionless fate. You wish you could play it cool and show it to her like the past couple weeks of your unyielding efforts were all just some show to build suspense, but you know the truth. She knows the truth — that brief moment of panic spoke volumes, even if you don’t want to admit it.

“What are you gonna do while I’m gone?” Sunhye asks, waving the stick around aimlessly.

“I don’t know. What I’ve always done, I guess.”

She chuckles. “Lock yourself in your room all day?”

A small grin creeps up on your face. “Yeah. Probably.”

She nudges against your ribs, softly enough to not mess up your lines, but hard enough to produce a laugh from your lips. “If I come back and find you paler than when I left, I’m gonna kill you.”

“Fine,” you utter, rolling your eyes. “I’ll, uh, go on a walk every once in a while or something.”

“Everyday,” she states. “And you better send me picture proof.”

“And if I don’t?”

“Then…” Sunhye grows uncharacteristically quiet. A gust of wind rustles the leaves to fill the silence, and for a moment, you two are the only people left on Earth. No trip to Korea, no end of summer, no impending dread, just you and Sunhye in your own little pocket of space.

“...nevermind.”

“What? Come on, tell me.”

“Uh-h, it’s nothing.” She stands up, facing away from you. “Your five minutes are up. Are you done?”

You peer over your notebook one last time. It’s good. Great, even. Maybe not Picasso or Da Vinci, but that was never the goal. Art has always been an outlet to externalize everything you’ve held inside. The fear, the joy, the sorrow, everything that you can’t quite put to words makes its way onto the paper, whether you like it or not.

The grating sound of paper being torn from your notebook becomes the song of a finished job. “Here.” You hand Sunhye the paper, hoping that everything you feel is able to be seen and understood by the only person that truly gets you.

A grin is quick to make itself known on her face as her eyes glaze over the page. Even with the obvious positive reaction, you can’t quite quell the nervous thumping of your heart.

“Wow,” she utters in disbelief. “All that waiting was worth it, you’ve really outdone yourself.”

“Yeah?” You wring your hands together over and over as you contemplate whether to stay or to run away. Even underneath the shade of the tree, your cheeks burn like a thousand suns. “I’m glad you like it. I, uh… I’m gonna miss you.”

Sunhye chuckles in your face. “I’ll only be gone for three weeks, what are you getting all sappy for?”

“Yeah, I know, it’s just… whatever.” You avert your gaze, immediately regretting your choice of words. It’s just three weeks, they’ll go by in the blink of an eye. What are you getting so sappy for?

“Um… I’ll miss you too,” she murmurs awkwardly. Time crawls to a standstill, with the breeze being the only evidence that the world is still turning. You try to think of something to say, a snarky quip, a simple “thanks” even, but nothing comes out. Your cheeks start to burn, but you’re not sure if it’s from the sun or the feelings that you’ve kept inside, threatening to burst from your chest.

“I-I guess you should probably head back home, huh?” you mutter.

“Y-yeah, right.” Sunhye turns to leave, but freezes in her tracks. “U-um, what’s that over there?” she asks, pointing behind you with a shaky finger.

Curiously, you turn around, only to be met with green trees and blue skies, the same ones the two of you have spent everyday under.

And then it hits you: Brief, fleeting, tender, a little clumsy, but sweet nonetheless. A warm pressure against your cheek so quick that you wonder if it’s just your imagination, all punctuated by a gentle pop like blown up bubblegum. You bring your hand to your cheek, tracing the lingering sensation left behind.

“I-I, uh, I should, um… Bye!” Sunhye makes a dash in the opposite direction, clutching your drawing to her chest. A stupid grin grows on your face as you replay that singular moment again and again in your head, wondering what would’ve happened if you had turned your head just a fraction of a second sooner. You lay down in the grass to stare up at the perfectly cloudless sky, illuminated by that great big ball of fire millions of miles away.

Three weeks. They’ll be long and difficult and no doubt boring, but you’ll live through them regardless. And after that, you’ll pick up right where you left off, hanging out and making stupid jokes like you’ve always done.

Even if this summer is ending, you know that you’ll have many more to spend with the girl that changed your life.

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