one for the road; amber/sehun one-shot
slight angst, au
1k
inspired by
She checks the mailbox on her way back from work; it’s usually just bills and other spam, but sometimes there’ll be something just for her. A beautiful photograph will pop out amongst the white envelopes, a small scrap of paper with his scrawled handwriting on it, or just a random object that she supposes made him think of her. There is a growing collection of these little bits and pieces of someone else’s life in the corner of her room. The postcards are taped up to her wall, the little letters are tied together with a ribbon, and the trinkets guard her sleep lined up on her windowsill.
Sulli questions her one day, it was bound to happen eventually, “Who’s the guy that sends you all those random things?”
“An old friend,” Amber replies simply, but she knows she’s lying to Sulli and herself. He was-is-always more than friend.
-
“I’ll only be gone for a little while,” he says as they lay in the grass of her back yard in the setting summer sun.
“You promise to come back, right?” She hates that she sounds so clingy, but she’s greedy. She doesn’t want him to leave.
“Of course,” he smiles back her and she tries to reciprocate. He can’t be held back, which is one of the things she loves most about him. Once he has his eyes set on something there’s nothing in his way.
“I need this,” he explains while they stare at the clouds, finding the animals in them. “I need to wander, I need to uproot myself. Figure out what’s really a part of myself and not just the stuff around me, you know?” She nods.
But she really doesn’t know. She knows exactly who he is, maybe even better than she knows herself. He’s Sehun-- her best friend and next-door neighbor who’s quietly determined. He loves the way it smells when it rains and he hates sleeping in past 10 am. She doesn’t understand what else he could possibly learn about himself by leaving, at least anything she couldn’t tell him herself.
-
It’s raining and she can’t help but think of him. She always associates that pitter-patter with his stupid smile and irritating smirk. Amber shakes off her umbrella as she sifts through her mail at the doorstep of her apartment building. She’s smiling at the latest piece of mail from him when she reaches her door and nearly drops her keys at the person standing there.
“W-what are you doing here?” She questions, trying to steady her voice.
Sehun smiles sheepishly and she notices the little piece of paper with his stupid handwriting on it. She hates that she could recognize that handwriting anywhere and that it’s just like him. Neat and messy at the same time.
“I was going to leave a note, but I guess that doesn’t matter…” he trails off.
“It’s been five years, Sehun.” She doesn’t know why she sounds so bitter. She hasn’t really felt that way about him this whole time has she? (She’s hated him this whole time. She hates him for leaving her behind. She hates him for not forgetting about her. She hates him for remembering her birthday no matter what country he’s in. She hates him for knowing that she loves pictures of mountains and keeping ticket stubs.)
“I know,” he states matter-of-factly and runs a hand through his hair. It’s longer than he used to keep it and she can’t but help and notice how good it looks on him.
“Did you figure it out?” She’s referring to that lazy afternoon she remembers so clearly.
“I did.”
“And what was it?”
He frowns slightly, “I thought it was obvious.”
She lets out a puff of air exasperatedly, “What are you talking about?”
He laughs slightly and says under his breath, “God Amber you still haven’t changed.”
“Did you get the stuff I sent you?” He asks louder, but he doesn’t wait for her answer. “Everywhere I went I thought of you. Not just the ‘wow I wish Amber was here looking at the Eifel Tower with me’ but weird small things. Like every time I boarded the train I remembered how much you loved them. Every time I walked into a little store and found those stupid plastic rings I had to buy them for you. I would find myself writing notes to you every time I got the chance- on restaurant napkins, maps, and museum brochures. And I just decided to send them to you.”
She glances down at the little ripped piece of paper in his hands. It’s a torn section of a map that she eventually figures out is from Ireland. It has thick, black letters on it that say ‘Wander with me?’
“I said I wanted to figure out who I really was. Leaving everything I knew behind and while I was in a place where I knew absolutely no one and couldn’t speak a word of the native language, there was only one thing I was certain of-you.” He’s stepping closer to her.
“I love you, Amber.” He’s smiling that smile she pretends to hate. “I always have.”
“It only took you twenty-one countries and five years to figure that out,” she says quickly.
“So you did keep track of where I was.” He’s smug again and she just wants to punch him in the face.
“Don’t make me burn them, because I will Oh Sehun, don’t think that I won’t,” she threatens.
“Please, you probably have them under your pillow or something like that.”
She really does punch him this time, “Ouch, Amber!”
She shoves him through her front door and demands, “You owe me.”
“I’ll make dinner. You always did love my cooking.” He smirks and she hates him. She hates how it’s as if nothing has happened between them. She hates how easily they’ve fit back together again. She hates him for making her miss him so much.
“I guess I forgive you.”
1k
inspired by
She checks the mailbox on her way back from work; it’s usually just bills and other spam, but sometimes there’ll be something just for her. A beautiful photograph will pop out amongst the white envelopes, a small scrap of paper with his scrawled handwriting on it, or just a random object that she supposes made him think of her. There is a growing collection of these little bits and pieces of someone else’s life in the corner of her room. The postcards are taped up to her wall, the little letters are tied together with a ribbon, and the trinkets guard her sleep lined up on her windowsill.
Sulli questions her one day, it was bound to happen eventually, “Who’s the guy that sends you all those random things?”
“An old friend,” Amber replies simply, but she knows she’s lying to Sulli and herself. He was-is-always more than friend.
-
“I’ll only be gone for a little while,” he says as they lay in the grass of her back yard in the setting summer sun.
“You promise to come back, right?” She hates that she sounds so clingy, but she’s greedy. She doesn’t want him to leave.
“Of course,” he smiles back her and she tries to reciprocate. He can’t be held back, which is one of the things she loves most about him. Once he has his eyes set on something there’s nothing in his way.
“I need this,” he explains while they stare at the clouds, finding the animals in them. “I need to wander, I need to uproot myself. Figure out what’s really a part of myself and not just the stuff around me, you know?” She nods.
But she really doesn’t know. She knows exactly who he is, maybe even better than she knows herself. He’s Sehun-- her best friend and next-door neighbor who’s quietly determined. He loves the way it smells when it rains and he hates sleeping in past 10 am. She doesn’t understand what else he could possibly learn about himself by leaving, at least anything she couldn’t tell him herself.
-
It’s raining and she can’t help but think of him. She always associates that pitter-patter with his stupid smile and irritating smirk. Amber shakes off her umbrella as she sifts through her mail at the doorstep of her apartment building. She’s smiling at the latest piece of mail from him when she reaches her door and nearly drops her keys at the person standing there.
“W-what are you doing here?” She questions, trying to steady her voice.
Sehun smiles sheepishly and she notices the little piece of paper with his stupid handwriting on it. She hates that she could recognize that handwriting anywhere and that it’s just like him. Neat and messy at the same time.
“I was going to leave a note, but I guess that doesn’t matter…” he trails off.
“It’s been five years, Sehun.” She doesn’t know why she sounds so bitter. She hasn’t really felt that way about him this whole time has she? (She’s hated him this whole time. She hates him for leaving her behind. She hates him for not forgetting about her. She hates him for remembering her birthday no matter what country he’s in. She hates him for knowing that she loves pictures of mountains and keeping ticket stubs.)
“I know,” he states matter-of-factly and runs a hand through his hair. It’s longer than he used to keep it and she can’t but help and notice how good it looks on him.
“Did you figure it out?” She’s referring to that lazy afternoon she remembers so clearly.
“I did.”
“And what was it?”
He frowns slightly, “I thought it was obvious.”
She lets out a puff of air exasperatedly, “What are you talking about?”
He laughs slightly and says under his breath, “God Amber you still haven’t changed.”
“Did you get the stuff I sent you?” He asks louder, but he doesn’t wait for her answer. “Everywhere I went I thought of you. Not just the ‘wow I wish Amber was here looking at the Eifel Tower with me’ but weird small things. Like every time I boarded the train I remembered how much you loved them. Every time I walked into a little store and found those stupid plastic rings I had to buy them for you. I would find myself writing notes to you every time I got the chance- on restaurant napkins, maps, and museum brochures. And I just decided to send them to you.”
She glances down at the little ripped piece of paper in his hands. It’s a torn section of a map that she eventually figures out is from Ireland. It has thick, black letters on it that say ‘Wander with me?’
“I said I wanted to figure out who I really was. Leaving everything I knew behind and while I was in a place where I knew absolutely no one and couldn’t speak a word of the native language, there was only one thing I was certain of-you.” He’s stepping closer to her.
“I love you, Amber.” He’s smiling that smile she pretends to hate. “I always have.”
“It only took you twenty-one countries and five years to figure that out,” she says quickly.
“So you did keep track of where I was.” He’s smug again and she just wants to punch him in the face.
“Don’t make me burn them, because I will Oh Sehun, don’t think that I won’t,” she threatens.
“Please, you probably have them under your pillow or something like that.”
She really does punch him this time, “Ouch, Amber!”
She shoves him through her front door and demands, “You owe me.”
“I’ll make dinner. You always did love my cooking.” He smirks and she hates him. She hates how it’s as if nothing has happened between them. She hates how easily they’ve fit back together again. She hates him for making her miss him so much.
“I guess I forgive you.”