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Apples and Mint
• Top (Big Bang) / Park Bom (2NE1)
• Non-AU ; ~1100 words ; PG rated
• Not beta read, as usual
• Prompt: "The only ones awake at 3am are the lonely and the loved." (which this doesn't cover entirely, if at all, but that had been the initial thought)
• Non-AU ; ~1100 words ; PG rated
• Not beta read, as usual
• Prompt: "The only ones awake at 3am are the lonely and the loved." (which this doesn't cover entirely, if at all, but that had been the initial thought)
He was standing in front of the still foggy bathroom mirror, his keen dark eyes running over his own features in concentration to detect even the slightest detail that could possibly be amiss after an entire day of work. It was the kind of close inspection that came with the same amount of vanity and pride that was finally hitting home after years of praise for his looks, as it did with the kind of mild worry that one day he would find one too many imperfections to justify the very same. Probably even more so after last week’s discovery of a new wrinkle that elicited fits of despair (his) and laughter (hers).
Seunghyun clutched a small towel to dab away toothpaste traces from the corners of his mouth and almost had to force his gaze to drop from his mirror image to the disarray of products in all sizes and shapes right in front of him. It still felt a little awkward and foreign to reach for the night creme jar that had been so recently added to his daily routine – more for her sake than his, he had to admit, although he could still see the logic in her moisturizer rant even now. Especially when he squinted and wrinkled his nose just a little, and couldn't help but notice that fine new line that had been declared public enemy number one.
Even with the sharp minty taste still on his tongue and a layer of lilac carefully being rubbed into his skin he still detected the lingering scent of her shower that filled the entire room. He ran the pad of his index finger repeatedly over the now-offensive spot in his own face, faintly remembering another feisty monologue on skin massages and how he should probably go get one more regularly. Seunghyun couldn't help the slight upwards curl of his lips this time as he found that he could even pinpoint the exact day he heard her say that – it was a mild surprise even to him, really, as a man who didn't necessarily dwell on the unimportant days too much.
But he remembered then. How it had taken him a full week to figure out that her unannounced switch from vanilla coconut to soapy apple was what threw him off about her for several day straight. Something so minor and yet so profound that he had excused himself from visiting her at the dorms for a day or two even, to figure out just how tangled up in the web that was her he had become. The answer then had been a rather unsurprising very tangled and not even that had scared him off at that time.
His little jar went back to its spot in the middle of hers and he absent-mindedly picked up her discarded towel, her favorite, neatly sliding it over the rack above the heater for her to find the next day, dry and warm. And even as he switched off the lights and went his short, barefooted way to the bedroom where he found her already sound asleep and had to pry her phone from her grasp, he didn't feel like anything was wrong with the entire picture. Not when he smiled, thinking of how she always tended to doze off in the middle of texting someone, and not when he snuck an arm around her sleeping form and found the gesture coming as naturally to him as weaving letters into lyrics.
He really didn't know when that had happened.
When pressing his face into the crook of her neck as he breathed her in became more familiar to him than drawing his pen across the last few lines on crinkled paper filled with ink splotches and his messy handwriting. 3:00AM glaring at him from the old alarm clock on his nightstand was bidding him goodnight these days – not telling him that he had approximately five hours of sleep-deprived creativity bursts left until his manager came to pick him up. Back then he had told himself that this was what he liked best. Moments buried somewhere between glasses of wine, countless cigarettes and songs about loss, longing and disappointment.
It wasn't the first time he realized how hard it seemed lately, to find those rough edges again that had somehow been easier to voice in his personal kind of catharsis than the steadily glowing warmth he now feels warming his chest day in, day out. It’s as if something cut off the stream of words he had access to and there were times when he wasn't so sure whether that was good or bad. He picked up the faint apple scent again as if on cue, and for a moment didn’t know if it was supposed to calm or mock him.
It would be all over the pillows soon. He would smell it when she was leaving the room the next day and he would start craving apples in his sleep. He would find it on his sweater, the one that she liked wearing, probably left in a heap on the couch and startling him when he was enjoying his morning coffee and briefly believed she had returned from her errands early. Invisible yet undeniable footprints all over his place, his life.
Seunghyun shifted and tugged her smaller frame closer to his chest, once more amazed by how fragile and vulnerable she could seem beside him when her sleep hid the vigor and strength she usually carried herself with. And the passion in her eyes that had now made room for relaxed features and a kind of innocence that was only marred by his subtle mark left on her plump lips hours ago. He knew she would still feel it the next day. Maybe it would smart a little, unexpectedly, and make her tuck in her lower lip with the kind of puzzled look and nose-scrunching that he would always find endearing. He couldn't deny the slight satisfaction he felt when mulling that thought over in his exhausted head for a little while longer.
It was a footprint of his own after all.
Just like his subtle cologne that she would smell on her scarf right before leaving the house, still lingering from when she had wrapped it around his head during a shopping trip the evening before. Or the pack of mint gum she’d find in her purse in the middle of recording, the kind she had picked up when she found out it was his favorite and now kept around for whenever she craved his taste.
3:15AM happened without a single word added to his paper pile and no empty wine bottle decorating his floor this time, but with easy sleep and a smug smile instead.
Seunghyun clutched a small towel to dab away toothpaste traces from the corners of his mouth and almost had to force his gaze to drop from his mirror image to the disarray of products in all sizes and shapes right in front of him. It still felt a little awkward and foreign to reach for the night creme jar that had been so recently added to his daily routine – more for her sake than his, he had to admit, although he could still see the logic in her moisturizer rant even now. Especially when he squinted and wrinkled his nose just a little, and couldn't help but notice that fine new line that had been declared public enemy number one.
Even with the sharp minty taste still on his tongue and a layer of lilac carefully being rubbed into his skin he still detected the lingering scent of her shower that filled the entire room. He ran the pad of his index finger repeatedly over the now-offensive spot in his own face, faintly remembering another feisty monologue on skin massages and how he should probably go get one more regularly. Seunghyun couldn't help the slight upwards curl of his lips this time as he found that he could even pinpoint the exact day he heard her say that – it was a mild surprise even to him, really, as a man who didn't necessarily dwell on the unimportant days too much.
But he remembered then. How it had taken him a full week to figure out that her unannounced switch from vanilla coconut to soapy apple was what threw him off about her for several day straight. Something so minor and yet so profound that he had excused himself from visiting her at the dorms for a day or two even, to figure out just how tangled up in the web that was her he had become. The answer then had been a rather unsurprising very tangled and not even that had scared him off at that time.
His little jar went back to its spot in the middle of hers and he absent-mindedly picked up her discarded towel, her favorite, neatly sliding it over the rack above the heater for her to find the next day, dry and warm. And even as he switched off the lights and went his short, barefooted way to the bedroom where he found her already sound asleep and had to pry her phone from her grasp, he didn't feel like anything was wrong with the entire picture. Not when he smiled, thinking of how she always tended to doze off in the middle of texting someone, and not when he snuck an arm around her sleeping form and found the gesture coming as naturally to him as weaving letters into lyrics.
He really didn't know when that had happened.
When pressing his face into the crook of her neck as he breathed her in became more familiar to him than drawing his pen across the last few lines on crinkled paper filled with ink splotches and his messy handwriting. 3:00AM glaring at him from the old alarm clock on his nightstand was bidding him goodnight these days – not telling him that he had approximately five hours of sleep-deprived creativity bursts left until his manager came to pick him up. Back then he had told himself that this was what he liked best. Moments buried somewhere between glasses of wine, countless cigarettes and songs about loss, longing and disappointment.
It wasn't the first time he realized how hard it seemed lately, to find those rough edges again that had somehow been easier to voice in his personal kind of catharsis than the steadily glowing warmth he now feels warming his chest day in, day out. It’s as if something cut off the stream of words he had access to and there were times when he wasn't so sure whether that was good or bad. He picked up the faint apple scent again as if on cue, and for a moment didn’t know if it was supposed to calm or mock him.
It would be all over the pillows soon. He would smell it when she was leaving the room the next day and he would start craving apples in his sleep. He would find it on his sweater, the one that she liked wearing, probably left in a heap on the couch and startling him when he was enjoying his morning coffee and briefly believed she had returned from her errands early. Invisible yet undeniable footprints all over his place, his life.
Seunghyun shifted and tugged her smaller frame closer to his chest, once more amazed by how fragile and vulnerable she could seem beside him when her sleep hid the vigor and strength she usually carried herself with. And the passion in her eyes that had now made room for relaxed features and a kind of innocence that was only marred by his subtle mark left on her plump lips hours ago. He knew she would still feel it the next day. Maybe it would smart a little, unexpectedly, and make her tuck in her lower lip with the kind of puzzled look and nose-scrunching that he would always find endearing. He couldn't deny the slight satisfaction he felt when mulling that thought over in his exhausted head for a little while longer.
It was a footprint of his own after all.
Just like his subtle cologne that she would smell on her scarf right before leaving the house, still lingering from when she had wrapped it around his head during a shopping trip the evening before. Or the pack of mint gum she’d find in her purse in the middle of recording, the kind she had picked up when she found out it was his favorite and now kept around for whenever she craved his taste.
3:15AM happened without a single word added to his paper pile and no empty wine bottle decorating his floor this time, but with easy sleep and a smug smile instead.
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