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Sender: Myung Soo
where are you?

Sender: Young Do
On your couch.

Sender: Myung Soo

Sender: Myung Soo
CHOI YOUNG DO. i’ve been outside of your hotel for 30 minutes.

Sender: Young Do
Pity. I’m here.

Sender: Myung Soo

Sender: Myung Soo

Sender: Myung Soo

Sender: Myung Soo

"What are you snickering about?"

Young Do looks up from the growing list of Myung Soo’s devastated emoticons to find Rachel at the door, bag slung over her shoulder and an irritated expression on her face. He spares a long glance, taking in the tight line of her lips and her death grip on the bag strap. When she catches his stare she inclines her chin in challenge, ever the haughty princess. 

He rolls his eyes.

 ”Myung Soo,” he says, glancing back at his phone. Myung Soo had started sending pitiful pictures of himself, pout and all. “I left him at the hotel.”

"You’re such a good friend Young Do," Rachel coos sarcastically, dropping down into one of the neighbouring chairs, bag tossed forcefully onto the table beside her. A stack of photos spills over, but Rachel doesn’t even blink.  Young Do arches a brow.

"He’ll live. So," he drawls and settles deeper into his sprawl against the couch cushions. "Can I guess, or are you going to destroy more of Myung Soo’s things first? If you are, I should probably give him a fair warning." 

Rachel’s lips tighten into an unamused grimace and she settles back into the chair.  ”Cute.”

"School?" he offers mildly, knowing it wouldn’t be the case. She shakes her head and fixates on the buttons of his blazer.. 

"Ye-Sol?"  That earns him a scoff.

"Please," she tosses her hair derisively. He watches her press her tongue against the back of her teeth, forcing her jaw to clench and muscles to flex. Whatever was bothering her was taking a considerable measure of her self-control. He tilts his head against the pillow and narrows his eyes.

The words Eun Sang and Tan are an irritating impulse against his tongue, but he doesn’t say them. He’s not sure if it’s for her own sake or his.

"Your Mother?" he says more quietly, careful to keep any colour of pity or sympathy out of his voice. She meets his eyes and, after a long moment, gives one short nod. 

He exhales through his nose and shifts a little against the couch. “Come on,” he says flippantly, lifting his arm up in invitation. “I know you’ve wanted to laugh at Myung Soo since you got here.”

She hesitates for only a second and he sees the indecision between the desire to appear solitary and strong and the desire to seek the comfort she rarely allows herself. He waits patiently, not breaking eye contact. 

With a great sigh, Rachel rises from the chair and strides forward, knocking his hand out of the way so she can slide in under it. Gingerly (if not awkwardly due to the short length of her skirt), she stretches out beside him, grasping his outstretched hand with bossy movements and tugging it over her torso. 

She curls into his side, pressing a hand to his chest and her forehead to the space between his neck and shoulder. When he presses a kiss to the crown of her head, she clutches the material of his shirt tightly in her fist and heaves an exhausted sigh.

"What’s he saying now," she mumbles into his shoulder, eyelashes fluttering against his skin as she closes her eyes.  He plays with her fingers absently and narrows his eyes at his screen.

"Now he has the concierge participating," Rachel tilts her chin up so she can better see the picture of Myung Soo and a visibly uncomfortable doorman. Myung Soo’s arm is locked around the man’s neck, face frozen in an overdramatic cry of anguish.

She snorts against the wool of his blazer and moves one of the buttons away from her cheek. “Look what you’ve reduced him to. I told you you weren’t funny.”

Young Do smirks, ignoring her noise of protest when he tugs her closer so that her head settles just under his chin and she is forced to throw her leg over his own. “I’m hilarious,” he replies, the phrase so common now he feels her mouth the words along with him. 

"Let’s take a picture."

She groans, annoyed. “No. Leave me out of your infantile games.”

"It would be rude not to send a picture back, Rachel." He runs careful fingers through her long hair, brushing it back and away from her face. She’s warm pressed against him, and if the heavy weight of her is any indication, she’s slowly drifting. 


He snaps one quickly, sending it to Myung Soo before slipping his phone into his blazer pocket and turning his full attention back to his girlfriend. Her eyes are closed and with every breath she takes he can feel her slip into the beginnings of a deep sleep. He brushes her fringe from her eyes and presses the pad of his thumb to the furrow between her brows.

Whatever had happened with her mother must have been particularly bad; Rachel rarely came to Myung Soo’s little pad, whether Young Do was there or not. In many ways, Esther was an insurmountable obstacle for them both, and Young Do, despite his familiarity with disappointed, controlling parents, was unable to help Rachel as he wanted to. She wanted to deal with it herself, and Young Do could do little but support her. At least, for now.

It made him angry, left with an almost painful build up of wasted ferocity and violence on his lips. But, as always, he deferred to her. 

With a surge of exasperated affection, Young Do presses a kiss to the side of her head, lingering for a moment as she lazily burrows further into his chest.

Lost in thought, he almost misses the steady vibration of his phone in his pocket. Careful not to disturb the girl on his chest, Young Do reaches into his blazer to retrieve his phone, Myung Soo’s message already offensively bright on the lock screen. 

Sender: Myung Soo
aigoo  ^_^

Sender: Myung Soo
i’m still going to kill you.

Sender: Myung Soo