Chapter Text
[I seem to be thinking about you more and more. I imagine the soft rays of the sun hitting your dark hair and reaching your face, making you look even more like a ] Han Sooyoung paused, “An angel?” She wrote initially, then decided to cross it off with multiple lines, “No, Kim Dokja’s more like the opposite if I could say so, but he's… hard to describe.” She kept thinking of things to compare him to, but couldn't think of anything that could describe his perfect features. She wouldn't admit it—no one would agree with her, as they didn't notice the perfect harmony his unique features (that would look strange on their own) had, but she could never stop writing about him.
Han Sooyoung wondered if she was acting like a crazy friend writing about him like this—but she also saw it as a way of showing her love for the stubborn man—She ultimately wondered; would he think that his platonic friend would be weird for writing about him on a daily basis?
She wrote small passages about him whenever she had an idea, a few notebooks were filled out with small writings of only him and she glanced at the small pile. “I really must be crazy,” She laughed to herself in her small apartment. She wondered what his face would look like if he ever saw the amount of words she wrote only about him, and not all of it were on plain paper—she also had a smaller amount of writing works on her phone for when she was outside and still thinking about him—it slowly became a hobby. (A creepy one, she would say.)
“I’ll continue this later,” She said, not in the mood to write anything longer after realising how much she wrote just for this one person.
“Would he be weirded out? I wrote him an insanely long story when we first started to get to know each other and even said I might write more for him—I wonder if he even thinks this is too much to write about him, knowing how much he reads.”
Even then, she continued to experiment with her writing using the man named Kim Dokja to be her muse, her inspiration. Writing about him anytime she had an idea. As far as she knew, she would make Kim Dokja her protagonist since he wanted to be one so desperately in his schooling years, once exclaiming, and she quotes, “I-I am the protagonist!”
She almost facepalmed out of second-hand embarrassment just by only recalling the incident—Kim Dokja was extremely talented and had many good qualities about him, but his… way of speech was awkward and silly. And perhaps she liked that about him.
However, she sat on the subway, writing another passage about his personality and features that no other writer or person seemed to notice about him onto her phone. [Pretty dark eyes that shine a beautiful grey in the sun’s rays. As if he had moons for eyes that shined like the stars in the deep navy night sky. His hair looked like silk that grew in every direction as if it was self aware of where it had to grow for each strand to be in perfect position.] She had a knack for using flowery language to describe every little detail, some would say it's extensive—but what mattered was that stupid Kim Dokja enjoyed it.
The train came to a stop. And people shuffled in and out the platform to the train carriage.
“Huh? Sooyoung?” A familiar voice she described as [deep and gentle, his words always being polite yet distinct] in her work before. His [fluffy hair was messed up and tousled slightly,] which gave him an almost tired and sleepy look—made him look like an adorable kid again.
Sentences, words and paragraphs came to mind just by looking at him and hearing him say her name with a certain tone and nuance. It was different from others. They way he said her name made her feel different—so softly, so sweetly, and with the most endearing tone. Han Sooyoung almost couldn't gather her thoughts, however she was quick to respond. “A-ah? Dokja?”
“Writing something for me again?” He asked playfully, sitting down on the seat beside her—the train was fairly empty. Han Sooyoung looked at him, she couldn't seem to stop doing that. She was quick to turn off her phone screen and hide the notes she wrote just about him, only him.
Thinking of an excuse, she stalled, “Oh, it's nothing. It's not finished, you shouldn't read it now,” She was quick to say defensively.
“If I never get to read it when it's not finished, I might never be able to read it considering how you write so much. I’ve given you an endless amount of notebooks but it seems like you always manage to fill them out within a few months—just what are you writing about anyway? I don't have to read it, but can you just tell me the general premise?” He asked, not taking a ‘no’ for an answer. She couldn't help but feel her heart race softly as she realised she had to tell him the truth one day.
“No. It's about… a certain person,” She whispered like it was a dark secret—and in her eyes, it was. This was one of the few times she got shy around him—she usually was calmed by his presence, probably because they were such close friends… she wondered what would happen if they-
He was quick to ask questions “Who?” He shuffled names of people in his head, wondering who made her write so much in a short amount of time. He looked at her eyes. Something in it almost pointed to him, and her troubled expression seemed to say who it was. “Could it be?” She stayed silent, not denying his speculations. “…Yoo Sangah?” He said nervously. She was that special to her, that she wrote word after word about her endlessly.
“H-Huh?”
Kim Dokja noticed her puzzled expression, “Is it not about her?”
She looked at him silently, wondering if she should respond honestly or not, but something in her compelled her to say the truth, “It's not.”
He looked at her in astonishment. “Who else could it be? Yoo Joonghyuk?”
“Why would you think about him of all people?”
“You both are close, you just… have some tension,” He said. She scoffed at his poor choice of words. Sure, she was close to the handsome man, but to write such extensive stories about him? She could only do that if she was pressured hard enough. “From your facial expression and reaction… it isn't him, isn't it? Just who else could it be? Do I know this person?”
“I’m not telling you. Never in my lifetime will I ever tell you, it's stupid.”
“C’mon… I’ll… I don't know, pay you just to know who it is,” Kim Dokja offered.
“Knowing you, you probably have some trick up your sleeve to scam me,” She said unamused. Her dark eyes lidded and she carded a hand through her hair while her breath wavered slightly, Kim Dokja noticed—but didn't comment on it in order not to seem like a weirdo to the short haired girl. [He always had a trick up his sleeve, always trying to worry the hell out of everyone in our friend circle. Maybe that's what makes him amusing to be around, even if he does get on my nerves.]
“Have fun guessing, since it's going to be my stop soon,” Han Sooyoung laughed playfully, able to dodge the evil tricks of the demonish scammer sitting beside her! She stood up, walking towards the space in front of the door.
“Then I’m going off the train with you,” He stood up from his seat next to her.
Han Sooyoung looked at him, almost concerned, “Why are you so obsessed with knowing who it is? Do you like me that much or something?” She joked, but his ears slowly grew to a dusted pink.
“I’m just a busybody,” He swallowed his saliva. [He was always a busybody. Always up in your business like an attention-seeking pet.] This was when the words she wrote ages ago came to backfire on her. Her writing about him daily as if she was writing in a damn diary came to bite her in the back as sentences, phrases she wrote about the man came rushing back to her. Making her too, embarrassed from her words, as was he. They walked out the train together, stepping in unison. “So?”
“I’m not going to tell you, not even on my deathbed.”
“Why are you so defensive? I’m not going to ruin your relationship because you like someone… I frankly think we have very different tastes in people,” He said, as if to convince her. (Even when they in fact, did have very similar tastes in others.)
“At least tell me what they're like, it’ll narrow down my options.”
She once again stayed silent, “It’s a secret. Since you may guess it right.” As she gazed in his eyes she felt an almost missed opportunity. They locked eyes in the silence. It felt as if they both knew what the other was thinking—Kim Dokja almost felt as if the person Han Sooyoung was so defensive about was… him. However, he’d never say that as it felt almost narcissistic of him to do so. Similarly Han Sooyoung thought Kim Dokja knew it was him, and she was very much right.
“Who's going to read it?”
“Why are you asking that all of a sudden?”
“At least let your faithful reader read it. You can edit their name out.”
She finally snapped. She often trusted her gut instinct—and planned all her choices most of the time, even when it became unpredictable due to the man standing right infront of her. “It's you that I write so obsessively about. Are you happy now?”
His suspicions were confirmed, “I… I never thought you'd think about me like that,” While he hoped it was him—he never felt that much affection in his life, which stemmed from his parents and his bullying in school. If anything, he had to thank Han Sooyoung, for being with him, and giving him a story. He almost felt guilty for worrying her so much, and his heart welled up. “Hah, I was dying to hear that from your lips, but I don't even have anything to say about it,” He looked at her with empty eyes, ones that he used in the early years of his life, when he had no one to support or care about him. When he was truly, alone.
Han Sooyoung finally understood his position; pulling him into a hug. His cold body around her warmer figure. “You're so stupid, I can't believe I write about you so much,” She muttered.
“Thank you, truly… I really like the thought of having someone think about me a lot—all the time,” He teased to ease the situation. In his life, he's never felt this appreciated and loved by one person. It felt almost strange to him, that someone cared about him this much—sure, the Kim Com were too the people he loved, but it felt special to know some of his love was returned in such a dedicated way. Someone worried about him and his day to day activities. Someone was inspired by what he sees as a mundane and uneventful life.
She saw something in him.
She saw him as someone special and worthy of her affection and time, and that meant everything to Kim Dokja—it was the thought of them.
“All of it is so cringe. You don't deserve to read any of it,” Han Sooyoung was quick to pull out of the hug and to dismiss all of the hours she spent journaling her thoughts on him, pages upon pages simply about him.
[I could imagine the most handsome man in the world, but I simply have no interest in perfect beings like that, I could write page after page about that man, but I’d never be able to feel what it’s like to write about someone like you—I saw tiny flaws in Kim Dokja that left me curious about him, thinking about him in my every waking moment. You, Kim Dokja, are more than my everything. You're everything in my head, a dream I wish to keep and never forget.] She remembered writing that part, sighing, and saying, “This became and awfully long love letter, I really should stop writing about him so much, it's starting to affect my writing.”
“Aah… I can't even imagine everything I've written—And I don’t ever want to remember my horrible writing skills… I was just putting words onto paper since I was bored… Additionally, are you not creeped out that I was writing about you like that?”
Kim Dokja stayed persistent even at this moment, “I like everything you write, it can’t be that bad.” He knew she was one to use flowery language and could write for decades, maybe even her whole life just about anything she put her mind into. He knew how she wrote, he knew her little nuances in the way she even phrased her words. “Plus, it's about me, shouldn't I know what you truly think of me?”
“You're so stupid,” She said in defeat, handing her unlocked phone over, all most of her works on display. Her hand trembled softly—but she trusted Kim Dokja. [He was a man who would do anything for you. And I would do anything for him, too.]
“That's so cringy,” He read the line.
“You're the one who wanted to read it so bad—don't you like everything that I write?” Han Sooyoung said with a smirk on her lips, knowing the comment from Kim Dokja wasn't to make fun of her.
He sighed as his words came back to haunt him, reading the next line of the book; [I seem to be thinking about you more and more. I imagine the soft rays of the sun hitting your dark hair and reaching your face, making you look even more like a ] It came to an abrupt stop. “Hm? Why did it stop?” He asked out loud. Looking through the rest of the unused pages in the small notebook.
“I couldn't think of a good word. Nothing seems to fit you. I don't know why I give myself the trouble of writing about you,” She complained. “But… I don't know why I enjoy it so much, writing about my thoughts about you, or just you in general.”
“Then… write as much as you want about me. I love it.”
Han Sooyoung heard it, “Then you better read it all, as it's all for you. And I probably would've continued writing about you even if you didn't ask me to.”
“I will, since you're asking so nicely."