Work Text:
Strange.
“You,” Seungcheol drawls happily, “are the prettiest girl on the planet earth.”
It’s simultaneously heartbreaking and palpitation-inducing how his head lolls comfortably on your lap, smiling lopsidedly as he compliments you in every fashion. More than once you’ve had to swat his wandering hands away – not that he was trying anything funny, but he had rapidly become fixated on the curve of your smile and wanted to touch it and stroke your cheeks. You finally compromised by letting him hold your hand, even if it pained you to do it.
Being in love with your best friend wasn’t something you’d advise to anyone.
“I’m so lucky,” he mumbles, still smiling without a care in the world. The empty bottle of soju beside him attests to it.
Idly, you stroke back his hair to keep it out of his blown-pupil eyes. His face was bright red from the drinking, but none of this stopped him from staring at you, staring like you were the last thing he’d ever see, staring like you were a goddess dropped from the heavens, like you were his whole universe.
“Why is that, Seungcheol?” you asked lightly, just to humor him. The hair-stroking seemed to make him content, so you obliged just a little, for his sake and yours, and didn’t stop.
“B’cause I have you,” he quipped. His eyes fluttered shut. “Ahhh, that feels good. You’re so soft. Y’smell like roses. I love roses.”
Your fingers faltered mid-stroke, and you bit your lip, forcing yourself to maintain a smile. He probably wouldn’t remember any of this, anyway. It was best just to keep him comfortable until he dozed off.
But his hold on your hand tightened, lacing tighter and harder, and you were helpless as he pulled your knuckles to his mouth and kissed them, a little wetly.
“Roses,” he murmurs again. “All roses.”
Before you can take it back, you blink back any tears and lean down to kiss the back of his hand, too. Shutting your eyes, you breathe in, and savor the fragrance of long days and fresh pillows and alcohol and Choi Seungcheol.
“You’re sweet,” you whisper back to him.
He responds with a sigh. You turn your head, fighting back the burn that threatens to fill your whole chest, and your vision blurs as your smile wavers.
He’s already asleep.