Chapter Text
Estimating the time this route will take to reach his class, Jisung is losing his wits. Presentations, his worst nightmare— god, it's just a presentation, the world isn't ending, no one will die— it hardly does anything to reduce the nausea building up.
20 more steps
Twenty more steps before he reaches the door to his dismay. Taking a deep breath, it's difficult to do so. The idea of having to talk Infront of so many people, to do all of it while feeling the crawling itchy feeling on his skin, dread.
To his grief the door opens. For a moment, Jisung breath hitches, burning his throat. The voice of his professor sounds vague. Can't focus, I can't, oh no no no—— Digging his nails into the centre of his palm, Jisung grasp on reality returns, hardly so.
The professor asks him whether he's prepared, at least that's what Jisung assumes she's saying. He can't get a word out, too overwhelmed by the sound of his own heart thrashing against his rib cage. Nodding with difficulty, he must look like an idiot. There goes his points for confidence.
Somehow Jisung manages to blurt out words, having to force them through the lump that seems to have made home in his throat. He prepared for this— he really did, practicing— yet in the end nothing ever changes.
Disappointment is felt only when there are expectations. Jisung has long since given up trying to 'fix' himself, disappointment isn't the emotion surging through him.
Yet as he sits under the pouring rain, the cold water drops brushing against his just as frozen skin—Jisung can't feel anything but exhaustion. It's funny really, him sitting under this pouring rain is some sort of silly hopes of being punished for failing by falling sick, to pay for his mistakes in some way.
Maybe then the knot of worthlessness wrapped around his neck will parish. Eyes fleeting up towards the sky, all gloomy. The Sun hidden away, Jisung almost feels envious. With a last sigh, hair now damped, clothes drenched. Jisung groans, enough time wasted.
No lunch for him today, he hasn't done anything good enough to earn it just yet. Just as he is drowning in misery, the sound of a soft meow— huh?
Down at his feet is a cat, drenched staring at Jisung as if the rain is his fault. Cats, Jisung feels nervous and fidgety around almost everyone and everyone excluding cats. A smile blooms on his face, bending down to pick up the cat, "We both look equally miserable, don't you think so?" Getting a meow in response Jisung takes it as agreement.
Scratching the cat's chin lightly, "You're so docile, definitely not a stray," Jisung sighs, it's so much easier to have conversations with cats than actual human beings.
"Yes indeed, she's just a rebellious one," a voice, not his own startles Jisung. The rain no longer as heavy as it had been. His initial reaction is to try and flee, though the task ends up as failure due to the feline on his lap. God, Jisung is not in the right state of mind to deal with human interaction at the moment, he hardly ever is.
Realising his awkward posture, he clears his throat, finally gaining enough courage to look at the mysterious source of the voice. Jisung's gaze first catches the sight of hands covered under leather gloves— the outline almost artistic, trailing upwards straight posture— the slight tilt of the stranger's head, finally his eyes align with the latter's.
Jisung has never been the type to pay attention to people's features or physical appearance, he's far too busy trying to behave like a functioning person instead of a maniac scratching his own skin. That being said he's absolutely stunned by the features of the stranger. His breath hitches as the latter's eyes roam over him seemingly observing him.
Glancing away, ears rose pink, "oh, is this your kitten? I am sorry, I assumed it to be a stray considering it's soaked state— ah wait, I don't mean that you haven't been taking care well of the cat but—" Damn it, stop rambling like an idiot. Just let go of the cat and leave. Have you not embarrassed yourself enough?
A chuckle interrupts his self despising thoughts. Usually Jisung's brain would assume it to be a mocking laugh, look how stupid you are. Yet at the moment his brain is devoid of any thoughts. The constant nagging and nitpicking suddenly silent. The only thought that remains, How pretty.
The thought startles him to his core, though his meat of a brain isn't given the luxury to process, "I was careless, you are right—" the man agrees his tone solemn, Jisung almost panics at the prospect.
"cute." The word murmured in such a hushed whispered tone, yet it seemed too loud to Jisung. Stop being delusional, he means the cat. Awkwardly, he nods, stroking the cat nuzzled against his palm, "Very cute," What is wrong with him today? Not that he's normal on any other day, but he's usually awkward, panicked -- I'm about to puke -- weird, not this flustered of a mess, blushing like a teenager.
The man is at least a feet away from him, but for whatever reason his presence is ever so present, lingering stubbornly like the itch in Jisung's throat. His bangs are soaked, Jisung notes. Sticking to his temple, only serving to make the stranger's eyes more captivating.
"No, I didn't mean the cat." The stranger remarks with an amused smile, what. What does he mean by that? If not the cat then who else? The other seems to have no plans of explaining. Jisung's heart thumps in sync with the footsteps of the latter as he steps closer.
"So, Can I have my cat back?" Great, Jisung drowns in agony. "Yes yes, of course. Sorry— I'm sorry," he stumbles over his words just as usual he does, he hasn't scratched himself yet, another unusual thing. He's weird today.
"You sure like to apologize huh?" The words are said in such a teasing tone, it doesn't make him feel inferior. Jisung raises his head, the man now sitting beside him on the bench.
A pretty nose— okay that's a weird thought. Though, Jisung can't fault himself for thinking so. The side profile of the stranger is one sculptured by God himself, that is even more of a strange thought, he doesn't believe in God.
"I can hear your thoughts running wild from right here," Jisung returns from his thoughts of the relation between God and beauty, another flaw of his. He tends to emerse himself in his own thoughts, it's more of a coping mechanism really. The cat seems to have made herself home in Jisung's lap, instead of fidgeting like a nervous fool. He settles for stroking the soft fur of the cat— what are the odds of the stranger thinking the same? Very high it seems because, Jisung feels an electrifying feeling as their fingers graze against eachother.
"o—oh, Sor.. I mean, It's a bad habit," Jisung forces out the words desperately trying to ignore the desperation of wanting to brush his fingers against the other again with avidity. "I tend to get lost in my thoughts, it's pretty weird," stop it, why are you embarrassing yourself? Just shut up, shut up—
"Weird? Not really, It is because your mind is a place full of wonders. I find that fascinating," he chuckles fondly, as the cat rubs against his palm, finally remembering her owner it seems.
Fascinating. A word Jisung would use for the sky, the moon— the endless possibilities of the universe. But never his mind, to him it's nothing short of a curse, a prison of his own. Trapped by himself, yet he holds the key in his hand. He doesn't dare to free himself, the fear of the unknown. Fascinating. Jisung's heart skips a beat.
Sighing, his gaze returns to the sky, all gloomy. A cool breeze of wind grazes his cheeks, Jisung closes his eyes. It's stupid, he doesn't even know the name of the guy, why is he acting like some sick lovefool? He should just leave.
Leave and go where? Home has never felt like home. The thought of returning causes dread to build up in the pit of his stomach. The gaze of the stranger burns, why is he staring like that? of course because he finds you strange. All stumbling and fidgeting like a failed science experiment.
"Do you enjoy the rain?" The question catches him off guard. Jisung had almost hoped for him to leave— a part of him delighted at his stay— "Well, I don't dislike it," Jisung ponders, "I find it comforting."
The stranger chuckles, he seems fond of doing that. "Me too, there is a strange tranquility in it." Jisung can't help but focus on the soft sound of the chuckle, the sound almost as comforting as the rain.
"Would it be too blunt to say, you are quite pleasing to the eye?" Jisung brain stops processing like it always does. Did he hear that correct? Though some nerve must have collapsed because he bursts into a laugh, a genuine hearty laugh.
Even as he feels the other's gaze, the stunned expression, Jisung can't stop the grin on his face. "Don't you think it's too late to worry whether it's blunt or not?" He hasn't felt this real, hasn't felt like himself since a long time.
"Oh, is that so?" leaning towards Jisung, head tilted— a glint in those captivating eyes— "Then pardon my bluntness, you have the most cutest grin ever."
He's close, so close, Jisung can even feel their heart beating in some strange synchronization. His breath seems to have made itself home in his lungs, a very familiar feeling yet something is strange. Instead of restricting Jisung almost adores the way his heart is thumping, how aware he's of the blood rushing through his vein.
Shifting his gaze away, Jisung can almost feel his cheeks burning, "..Thank you," he's far too embarrassed to say anything else. You have made it awkward, you can't even take compliments.
The stranger underrated by the awkward response suddenly proposes an idea, "How about we play an interesting game?" Jisung finally forces his gaze away from the cat, a bit surprised yet interested in the notion.
It's weird, usually this would have made his skin crawl. The idea of embarrassing himself by not doing good at said game— no, the fact that he's a complete stranger should have been enough for Jisung to refuse. However the words escape him before he could even process, "okay, what game?"
"Hmm, we still haven't introduced ourselves right?" The idea is bizarre to Jisung, how comfortable he feels with a person, a person he met only a few minutes ago. This unusual feeling scares him, instinctively he desires to escape. Attachment to a person never ends well. Only ever leading to abandonment, even knowing all that Jisung hesitantly nods.
Then, the stranger suddenly takes off his gloves, Jisung oddly focuses on the stupidest of details— how each structure of the stranger's bones seem to have been moulded by the most affectionate strokes of an artist, a perfect muse.
Staring dumbfounded as the palm is placed just out of his reach, Jisung blinks, bewilderment obvious on his face.
Another amused chuckle, "How about you write your name on my palm and I will try to guess it?"
"oh I see, huh— wait wha—" stunned Jisung gains enough courage to stare at him as if to make sure he isn't joking.
The stranger utterly unaffected, leans over a bit— Jisung's heart almost jumps, "It will make it interesting, don't you think so?" The soft whisper tickling his skin.
The word 'no' remains at the tip of his tongue, physical touch has always disgusted Jisung, no rather than disgust it's discomfort— his skin crawls, dreads at the thought of being touched.
Swallowing the refusal, Jisung with his cheeks heating up nods, "mn, I guess so," the words sound softer than he intended.
"It's just a silly offer, if you feel uncomfortable you can decline."
His discomfort must have been obvious, shaking his head, "No! I want to—" realizing how eager he sounds, he stumbles over his words, "oh, I meant, I don't mind.. as long as you're okay with it."
"I don't mind, then do you want to?" The words sound too affectionate, no no he must be being delusional what affection? Wake up Jisung! He doesn't even know your name yet.
Nodding with a firm resolve, Jisung hesitantly inquiries, "Yes, then can I—" Can I touch your palm?
The words seeming strange Jisung coughs awkwardly instead choosing to ask, "Should I start?"
Getting a positive nod, he reaches out to gently hold the other's palm, the longing that had been lingering sedated. The expected discomfort nowhere to be found, Jisung discovers that the feeling of the warm hand in his awfully — homely.
As weird of a comparison it may seem, home, a word associated with solace, comfort and love. Letting out a shaky exhale, Jisung hesitantly glides his finger along the soft skin, each stroke of his name gently being traced.
Jisung glances up, "Were you able to guess it?" He desperately tries to ignore how.. right the intimacy feels, it's so strange. Overwhelming almost how this feels like everything that's meant to be.
"Not really. Can you do it again?" So focused Jisung misses the teasing glint dancing in the stranger's eyes.
Jisung fingers trail gently over the palm, he finds himself wanting to trace the trail of the veins on the wrist.
At first Jisung holds up quite well though after a long while— too long yet not enough— of holding the warm hand in his. "..I guess it's too difficult to guess. Maybe we should—"
As he glances at the stranger he finally takes in notice the cheeky grin, ears flushed Jisung let's go of the latter's hand, he finds himself missing the warmth.
"You were teasing me this whole time, weren't you?" He grumbles wanting the ground to swallow him whole.
The stranger stares at his palm for a long while, the warmth of Jisung's fingers lingering. "Sorry Jisung, I wanted to enjoy the feeling of your hand in mine for a bit longer."
.