Chapter Text
This meeting has been all he could think about for days, ever since he first saw his pictures on the website. It's not because of him. It's not because of him, of his appearance, because of the reviews. It was a love at first sight, of sorts, because as soon as the idea popped up in his mind and he looked it up and he saw the picture he felt like maybe, like maybe... Something. Like maybe he didn't have to be so alone.
So he's been looking forward to it. Had anyone been around to witness, it'd have been noticeable by how he got out of bed early, showered and shaved, which hadn't been happening so consistently as of late, since the Everything, which doesn’t exist and he doesn’t think about. He'd picked clean clothes, pressing his nose to the fabric and inhaling so deeply to make sure they still carried at least a faint smell of fabric softener. Truth was, laundry hadn't been a priority lately.
It's not on purpose that he's ready three hours prior to their meeting, it's just something that happens. It's just something that happens. And he wants to find ways to convince himself he shouldn't cancel. So now he's all dressed, his hair is combed, he put on perfume, he looks decent, so he shouldn't put all this work to waste by calling it off.
The next hour passes with his lungs feeling weird, with chest tight, that's the only thing he remembers from that hour - the feeling. He's not sure, later that day, what he did in the meantime, between getting ready and arriving at the cafe, 50 minutes too early. He has a vague suspicion, but he doesn't know. And he has no suspicion of what he did in the couple of days preceding that one. It's all wiped out.
So in the cafe he sits down, and he writes that he's nervous and wants to vomit. He looks up what movies are screening that weekend, feeling mildly inspired, for the first time in probably two months, to go see a movie outside his apartment. All it took was coming out this once.
He tries not to look around that much, not to let his heart jump at every single person who comes in. He's trying not to blink too much, to not seem too much like there's a lump in his throat keeping him from breathing properly. He's trying to seem normal. He needs to seem normal, now.
And then, Hongjoong is there, standing only a couple of steps away from the door, eyes scanning the place to find him, and his heart seems to want to jump out of his throat.
Seonghwa swallows it down, and he can't help the relief that fills him with his next breath, to see someone who's somewhere because of him. Nevermind the reason. He does realize, vaguely, that his smile is a little too big for the occasion, but there's something uncanny about the experience, about the pretty boy walking over to sit across from him, about his sweet voice when he says hi and have you been here long. He also realizes, vaguely, that there's just no way this can go right. But for the first time in so long, it feels good to be alive.