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“Do you know what love feels like?”
Han Joonhwi looks to his left. It’s Sol staring intently at the pitch black sky above them, laying beside him on the damp soil of Hankuk’s field. She’s tipsy, too, maybe even drooling.
(But, to be frank, Sol’s still the most beautiful view he’s ever laid eyes on, even if she’s tipsy. Even if with every sip she takes, alcohol spills from the corners of her mouth. And, to be completely honest, she’s still the most amazing person, even as she pukes into the toilet with Joonhwi holding her hair back. It’s happened on multiple occasions, so there’s evidence to back this up.)
Some people are confused as to why Joonhwi’s so affected by Sol on every occasion, despite them being with each other every single day. They often say, “It’s just Sol.” He merely smiles. There’s nothing “just” about her. That thought scares him a little. Sol has this huge, strong grasp on his heart and everything else, yet she has no idea. It kind of scares him how vulnerable she makes him. He hates being vulnerable. But, there’s another part in him — the part deeply in love with Kang Sol, the part that trusts her with his whole life — that thinks being vulnerable, specifically for Sol, is the best thing that’s ever happened to him. She doesn’t need to know about any of this, of course. Despite everyone around them constantly teasing the pair, she somehow never catches on. Sol only goes along with the playful banter, contributing a flirty line here and there. And it gets Joonhwi every time.
So, it’s no surprise when he answers Sol’s questions, whether it’s difficult or not, with the truth. It’s no different from this question, even as they’re drinking. Even if she could easily forget the lies he’ll tell her tomorrow, he doesn’t care. He likes being honest with her. He likes knowing that he’ll always be honest with her. It’s a promise he chooses to follow every single second. Sol doesn’t need to acknowledge this for it to be a fully followed, intact promise.
“Yes. Because of you,” he supplies.
He smiles, as Sol nearly chokes on air. Sol pouts, “Stop joking around.”
“I’m not.”
She finally looks at him, ripping her eyes off from the void of nothingness that could swallow them whole. And she believes him. It’s the look on Joonhwi’s face that gets her to the realization that it’s true. Honest. Genuine. Her heart does cartwheels, so many that she could go across the field and back if it were reality. Her brain, on another hand, chooses to ignore these cartwheels and its heavy implications.
“Why me?” She says instead, maintaining eye contact with him all throughout.
Joonhwi laughs, “I don’t think there’s an answer to that. It’s because it’s you. That’s it.”
Sol punches his shoulder, her bottle of alcohol spilling a few drops. “You flatter me too much, stop it.”
She doesn’t say anything else, just brings the bottle toward her lips and travels her eyes toward the sky. She wants to drown in her thoughts along with the feeling of this alcohol filling her. It feels nice. It’s calming.
Joonhwi, however, likes conversation. “Why’d you ask?”
It doesn’t surprise Sol when he asks a question, interrupting the comfortable silence. But she doesn’t mind. After all, it’s still Joonhwi and everything he says is valuable. If she could, she’d listen to his voice forever. She wouldn’t mind losing her oh-so-relieving silence. To be fair, silence and Joonhwi’s voice, regardless of being polar opposites, are both warm. Tender. And Sol would give everything she is and everything she has to drown in it.
“I don’t know. It’s just…” Sol pauses, searching for the words that could accurately describe the intensity she feels right now. And Joonhwi waits patiently.
“I’m already twenty-eight, and it just feels so pressuring. Like, yeah, career, family, all that shit. But mostly love, I guess? I haven’t experienced it yet, and it feels like there’s a ticking time bomb. That it’ll be too late. It’s frustrating,” she looks back at Joonhwi, “I’m sorry, this must sound stupid.”
He cuts her off, “No. It’s not stupid. You know, I’m twenty-eight, too.” He nudges Sol’s side teasingly. It makes her laugh.
“Yeah, I know. I just thought… Maybe, you wouldn’t relate to it?” She asks it more than states it.
“Yeah, no, I definitely understand you.”
She laughs lightheartedly at his reply, “You? Mr. Perfect In Everything?”
Joonhwi smirks, “Oh? I didn’t know you thought of me as perfect. Please flatter me more.”
Sol rolls her eyes, but instead of replying, she points toward his bottle, mentally telling him to take a sip. He does what he’s told, grabbing the bottle and gulping quickly. He neglected the bottle for quite some time, anyway. (But, even if he didn’t, he’d still completely follow. He just needs to hear the word from Sol.)
“No, but honestly, I really do understand. I mean, for completely different reasons, but I understand how it’s pressuring. Everyone sees me as put together. I have my life planned out and all. But I really don’t. Kind of bullshit, the rumors and perceptions of me. But, yeah, the love thing’s been on my mind. And the ticking timer.”
Sol hums, taking in every word he says. “Well, at least we have each other.”
Sol says it teasingly, but there’s just something about those words together and its context that makes it the most comforting thing he’s heard in a while. It feels like a promise, that even if the world ends tomorrow, at least they’ll be side by side. Joonhwi smiles, and frankly, the multiple muscles near his mouth never strain or tense. (And he smiles frequently around Sol, which says a lot about his tolerance.)
“You mean that?”
Seriously, she says, “Absolutely.”
After a few more sips, they move onto another bottle, each making teasing jabs about how the other’s so wasted already. None of them are wasted, though, so they talk about how drinking with each other’s extremely costly due to their high tolerances. It’s irritating at times. There are just moments wherein you want to get drunk and forget about all your problems right away, with the help of alcohol. You can’t exactly do that if you’re like any of the pair. But, then again, it also gives them more time to bond. They aren’t ones to complain about that. Bonding doesn’t necessarily mean talking, either. Sometimes they just lay there, Sol’s head leaning on his shoulder or maybe on his lap as he sits down. She likes gazing at the stars that way, with Joonhwi’s thighs as pillows. His hands play with her hair absentmindedly, but comfortingly. It’s nice. Sweet. It’s the type of feeling you’d look for after every exam, trial, failure. It’s more of Joonhwi’s presence than the alcohol’s.
He clicks his tongue. Sol instantly ready to listen.
“You know, in American television, people on there, they make pacts. Like if they’re both still single by thirty, they get married to each other,” he suggests.
She laughs, “Do you really want to make one with me?”
“Absolutely.”
“You’re stupid.”
Joonhwi makes an exaggeratedly hurt face, pretending he just got shot by a bullet into his heart. It makes Sol laugh, meaning he’s done it correctly. “How am I stupid, Kang Sol?”
“Because I’m pretty sure the pact’s at forty, not thirty.”
(He knows it’s forty, but it’s too far along. He also knows they’ll get their shit together in about a year, so why extend the time limit to ten years? If you get what he means.)
Sol snorts at the idea, “There’s no way I’ll still be single by thirty, anyway. Let’s do it.”
“Wow, are you sure you aren’t in love with me, Sol? Taking advantage of this pact, I see,” Joonhwi teases.
“As if! And for the record, it’s more like a bet than a pact.”
“A bet? Humor me.”
Sol rolls her eyes, but she still humors him. “A bet to see who’ll be in a relationship by thirty and who won’t. Which I will win, obviously.”
It’s Joonhwi who snorts this time. Sol elbows his side, “Have you seen me? If you don’t think I’ll win, you should probably get your eyes checked.”
(He sees her. And he totally knows. 20/20 Vision.)
“You could fall for me in those two years, making us both winners of the bet.”
“I doubt it.”
“Okay, but two years is a lot of time.”
(After all, Joonhwi did fall for her in just six months.)