In most cases, unfamiliar faces draw none of his attention. Unfamiliarity means new ground—something Jongin is much too timid to explore. His lifestyle is built upon what he already knows, or what he thinks he already knows, and he has no intention to change that.
But this unfamiliar face is different; all of its features are gentle, almost childish in their delicate inconspicuousness. Swirled threads of soft black silk rest above a face of pale skin that looks equally as soft; lips of the faintest pink protrude naturally in a quiet pout that begs for Jongin to wonder how they would feel when caressing his own, what sounds would leave them if he could show the other something about love. Distant pools of chocolate syrup reflect the grey sky outside the window, unblinking as he sips at the steaming mug of coffee in his frail hands.
The face no longer looks like that of a stranger’s after Jongin stares for long enough. The encounter seems recherché, a meticulous act of fortune all in itself. Shaking his head, he attributes the fleeting thought to nothing more than the frivolity of imagination.
With the most subdued and hesitant movements, Jongin picks his way across the various tables, the steaming mug in his hand hot against the skin. His usual seat gapes at him on the left, arguing familiarity, but the stranger’s silence refuses to release Jongin’s intrigue.
Taking a deep breath, he pulls out the new chair and settles down as the unfamiliar gaze snaps immediately towards him, sharp and interrogating.
“The weather’s... quiet, isn’t it?”
Uncertainty marks each syllable, and the words feel as if they leave traces of toxin on Jongin’s tongue, dripping like accidents from his suddenly dry throat. The pout on the other’s lips tilts softly, imperceptibly upwards in a smile, and Jongin sighs in relief.
“Quiet? I’ve never heard anyone use ‘quiet’ to describe the weather before.” He folds his other hand around the ceramic of the mug and glances down as he sips at it, thinking, before wide eyes finally blink and look again in his direction. “But I suppose you’re right. It is quiet.”
Jongin meets his gaze, and for a moment it seems as if both of their breaths have caught still in their throats. The world seems to freeze temporarily before he lets out a weak chuckle accompanied by a sheepish grin. “Um, I suppose I should introduce myself,” he begins, each word tentative in the back of his throat and spontaneous off the tip of his tongue. “I’m Jongin.”
“Kyungsoo,” says the other, and their gaze breaks off when they both laugh, the slightest hint of a blush warming Jongin’s cheeks. “It’s nice to meet you.”
The coffee shop is warm compared to the frigid air that brushes at the windows, but Kyungsoo’s voice is warmer. Their words and shy cracks of laughter mingle in the same buzz that always resides in the atmosphere of the room, and the unfamiliar fades again into the familiarity of the coffee shop buzz that Jongin loves so much. It’s different this time; a mix of that familiarity and something else that Jongin can’t quite place, something that is amplified every time something he says makes Kyungsoo smile, something that is amplified every time something Kyungsoo says makes him smile.
Something along the lines of I think it’s fate that we met this way.
“Praesent imperdiet nunc et sem dignissim elementum. Donec lobortis congue
fringilla. Donec consequat ornare sodales.Nunc posuere
mattis mi, ut facilisis ligula accumsan vel. In consectetur accumsan diam, eget
porttitor justo luctus id.
Praesent imperdiet nunc et sem dignissim elementum. Donec lobortis congue
fringilla. Donec consequat ornare sodales.Nunc posuere
mattis mi, ut facilisis ligula accumsan vel. In consectetur accumsan diam, eget
porttitor justo luctus id."
8
Romance
And now here's an excerpt from a great fnfiction one of my dear friends has written. It is called Athanasia and features the pairing Kim Jong In and Do Kyung Soo from EXO.