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theblueintheday2015-10-11 11:57 pm
bluedreaming) wrote in theblueintheday2015-10-11 11:57 pm
Entry tags:
[team sonic] drumming to the beat
First words from Trauma.
Title from Heartbeat by Annie.
This is a vague headcanon continuation of a side-character's story from Bold and Young.
The chair comes out of nowhere—Minho is walking so quickly, trying not to look back, not meet anyone's eye in case they can read his expression, not only does Jongdae's friend not want to date me, he doesn't even want to look at me, and it's not like Minho really cares, it's not like he's looking or anything, not right now, but there's something about being completely brushed over like that, only to see the person you're supposedly supposed to be meeting grinding up against and kissing what seems like a random person on the dance floor, bass thudding though the air and lights flashing through the air, straining the world a kind shade of rose-coloured glasses gone violet—he's tripping over the chair before he realizes it, feet tangling with the metal legs and he can tell he's going to fall even as his hands are reaching forward to keep him from the ground as he instintively closes his eyes and braces for implact—
Except he doesn't land, bruised, on the hard ground; eyes blinking open, Minho registers the warm arm holding him up by the waist, as there's a pause, a hearbeat of silence in the middle of this chaos, before the arm helps him regain his balance, "Are you okay?" a voice says in his ear, too loud and yet the music is louder so the voice is soft and quiet by comparision.
Minho swallows, as the music roars through his head. I'm okay, he thinks. Everthing is okay.
"I'm—not so cool right now," he finds himself saying instead, and is glad of the pink lights that hide his embarassment. "I think I'll head home." The stranger steps forward, sliding into Minho's field of vision, and he registers, just an idle observation he has no intention of acting upon, that the stranger is startlingly attractive.
"Actually, me too," the stranger says, and extends his hand for a handshake; Minho looks at his hand, long slender fingers, and wonders whether the stranger also has a white collar job. Why else would he be offering to shake my hand like we're mingling at a business dinner?
"I'm Seokjin," the stranger, Seokjin, says, and Minho finds himself echoing him anyway.
"I'm Minho," he replies, Seokjin's fingers warm on his.
"I was just planning on having a last drink before heading out," Seokjin says, gesturing towards the bartender at the other end of the bar. "Care to join me?"
Minho really was planning on going home, he only wants to go home and bury his head in his fluffy comforter and regroup, but he finds himself nodding instead, sliding onto the chair that had only moments before seemed intent on bringing him to his knees.
Title from Heartbeat by Annie.
This is a vague headcanon continuation of a side-character's story from Bold and Young.
The chair comes out of nowhere—Minho is walking so quickly, trying not to look back, not meet anyone's eye in case they can read his expression, not only does Jongdae's friend not want to date me, he doesn't even want to look at me, and it's not like Minho really cares, it's not like he's looking or anything, not right now, but there's something about being completely brushed over like that, only to see the person you're supposedly supposed to be meeting grinding up against and kissing what seems like a random person on the dance floor, bass thudding though the air and lights flashing through the air, straining the world a kind shade of rose-coloured glasses gone violet—he's tripping over the chair before he realizes it, feet tangling with the metal legs and he can tell he's going to fall even as his hands are reaching forward to keep him from the ground as he instintively closes his eyes and braces for implact—
Except he doesn't land, bruised, on the hard ground; eyes blinking open, Minho registers the warm arm holding him up by the waist, as there's a pause, a hearbeat of silence in the middle of this chaos, before the arm helps him regain his balance, "Are you okay?" a voice says in his ear, too loud and yet the music is louder so the voice is soft and quiet by comparision.
Minho swallows, as the music roars through his head. I'm okay, he thinks. Everthing is okay.
"I'm—not so cool right now," he finds himself saying instead, and is glad of the pink lights that hide his embarassment. "I think I'll head home." The stranger steps forward, sliding into Minho's field of vision, and he registers, just an idle observation he has no intention of acting upon, that the stranger is startlingly attractive.
"Actually, me too," the stranger says, and extends his hand for a handshake; Minho looks at his hand, long slender fingers, and wonders whether the stranger also has a white collar job. Why else would he be offering to shake my hand like we're mingling at a business dinner?
"I'm Seokjin," the stranger, Seokjin, says, and Minho finds himself echoing him anyway.
"I'm Minho," he replies, Seokjin's fingers warm on his.
"I was just planning on having a last drink before heading out," Seokjin says, gesturing towards the bartender at the other end of the bar. "Care to join me?"
Minho really was planning on going home, he only wants to go home and bury his head in his fluffy comforter and regroup, but he finds himself nodding instead, sliding onto the chair that had only moments before seemed intent on bringing him to his knees.
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