#i'm really not joking when 1-4am is my peak for these kinds of writings

[closer-stars]

Silence - Seonghwa

Member: Seonghwa Genre: Comfort, Fluff, mild angst?  Requested: Yes Word count: 3.7k Content: Insecurities when it comes to picking at skin and lips. Seonghwa wants to help you. Food mention. The rest of the boys are touchy as heck. Stress.  Note: This thing is long winded cause a close friend requested this so I wanted to make this something that they can read whenever it hits them especially when their stress is high. Also since this is comfort fic that they requested, I won’t tag for their privacy. The same goes for any comfort fic that might be requested in the future. 

There was something about you today that Seonghwa couldn’t help but notice. He knows how stressed you’ve been lately. Too many things are happening at once in your life, and while you could manage a smile that reaches your eyes whenever someone asks if you were okay, the spark you put in your eyes dims once when they look away. Whenever you look at anything, your focus just isn't there. It was one thing to look at something and focus on it but it was another to look at it and look as if there was nothing. 

This goes on for the next few days as he notices more things. You did say you didn’t mind physical affection and to an extent it was true. The moments where the boys come up to you with a hug, you welcome it, the moments where they lean their head against your shoulder, you welcome it. But when one of them try to reach for your hand, you find ways to slip away from doing so, sometimes opting to fiddle with your phone or with the zipper of your hoodie, just anything to give yourself an excuse to not hold hands with them. 

A part of him wants to think it was because of how your exams were making you stressed and fidgety. He remembers how clammy you can get when you’re overwhelmed with your workload in the past. Yet another part of him counters that claim, even when you aren’t occupied with your responsibilities, you still slip away. You were a sneaky one in his books. For now, he’d support you quietly as you tackle each and every exam that lay ahead of your week. 

On the late night study sessions you pull in living room, he would put a bottle of water by you and some snacks to help keep you alert and awake. After Hongjoong came into his life, he knew better than to argue with someone hardheaded. “Don’t forget to drink water too okay? You’ve been focused on that subject since this afternoon.” He says while his fingers thread through your hair, gently massaging your scalp. 

“I just want to do well, Seonghwa.” You admit with a tired sigh. You lean back into his touch and somehow Seonghwa couldn’t help but think of you as a kitten who found relief with scratches on their head. 

“And you will. Pace yourself okay?” He lets go of your head gently, pressing a quick peck on the top of your head. “I’m going to bed already, get some sleep also after that.” He advises while he stretches his back. 

Your eyes graze at the amount of notes you’ve had spread across the table. “I’ll try.” You say, and even to yourself, it doesn’t sound promising. The stern look he gives you was enough for you to retract your statement. “Okay, okay. I will. Just wake me up when you do please?” Even if the exam is in two days and you’ve already covered a good percentage of the coverage, you just didn’t feel like it’s enough yet. 

A sigh slips through the male’s lips and he nods. He can’t win with two stubborn heads in his life. “Fine. Good night..” Thus leaving you on your own with your notes. 

So you continue to study, until you raise the white flag. You pack your notes in between the textbook, put away the bowl then head to bed. 

The sleep you had feels more like a nap as Seonghwa gently shakes you awake. “Morning.. I made you breakfast.” He whispers, waiting for you to get up. At least you weren’t as difficult as San to wake up in the morning. Those words are enough to get you up from your still sleepy haze. The older male couldn’t help but chuckle softly at your excitement over his cooking, letting you get ready as he prepares your first meal of the day. 

If you weren’t in school, you were with the boys but even then, you were reviewing. Your fingers constantly fidgeting against your own skin as you try to focus. Sometimes one of them would attach themselves to you, a welcomed distraction before more concepts melt your brain. But whenever you find yourself relaxing from their touch, their fingers would always brush upon yours and it always wakes you up, pulling away from them a little more. Even if Seonghwa had to do damage control with Wooyoung and San bickering, he easily notices your discomfort along with Yunho’s pout when you pull away. Before he could say anything, Wooyoung and San were back to bickering about what to play, causing him to turn his attention back to the two. 

It’s clockwork from then on. Seonghwa preparing your meals day in and day out throughout the week. You getting next to no sleep as you prepare for each exam but as the week progresses, your mental state declines. You were starting to get impatient easily, you were berating yourself over the smallest errors, you even shy away from any sort of physical contact even if it was your love language. It was clear that you were on tunnel vision now. The stress was starting to take a toll on you and Seonghwa had to do something about it before you break.

The stress peaks when you are holding your head in your hands. Your nails dig into your skin as you try to keep your composure. Nothing in your notes was making sense anymore. Everything just seemed like jargon. He had your usual bottle of water and snacks in hand when he entered the room and saw your current disposition. He sets them down quietly and slips himself next to you. 

He quietly calms you down: arms around you, hushing you like a parent would to their child when they were crying uncontrollably. You weren’t. You couldn’t get yourself to cry. The only thing in your system were the equations, theories, definitions, and the connections of one topic to another. “I’m here. Hey, talk to me..” He gently urges as he moves himself into your line of vision. You turn your teary face away from his line of sight as you try to regain your composure. Your fingers find themselves threaded through your now messy hair as you try to train your blurry eyes at your notes. Holy fuck why is nothing getting into your brain? 

With a sigh, Seonghwa gently turns you to him, letting you cry against his chest. It’s obvious that you aren’t in the right state to talk so he whispers reassuring promises. “You’ll be okay.” He says softly into your ear as he rubs your back up and down. You were still shaking from the stress and how you were pretty much going through a breakdown. “Can you follow my breathing?” He asks softly as he brushes your hair delicately away from your face. Though you don’t reply, you try to focus your attention on his breathing, a feeble attempt to get your heart to slow down. Your tears and whimpers eventually stop and you still in his arms. “Do you want to sleep in my bed tonight?” His voice never raises in pitch or volume. You nod at his offer. He asks once more if you would rather be carried to bed or stand on your own. You opt for the latter, not that it surprises him. You were a strong one after all. But the strong ones sometimes had their down days. 

He walks you to his bed and almost immediately you plop yourself onto it. He tries to remember how your schedule would go tomorrow. Saturday. Rest day. He sighs in relief. He brings a bottle of water for you when you wake up. For tonight, your solace was in his bed and in his arms. 

You wake up with a pounding headache. The thin sunlight telling you that it was morning. A dry groan as you try to push away the headache as you shift. Your hands feel the material beneath you and it hits you that this isn’t your bed. You look to your side and you're greeted by Seonghwa’s sleeping face. That’s when you remember what went on last night. “Shit.” You mutter, sitting up immediately. “What day is it?” You groan out, disoriented by the sudden rush of blood. 

“Saturday. Your rest day.” Seonghwa returns, his voice raspy from having just woken up. You turn to the male who rubs his eyes awake then reaches for the bottle of water. “Drink. I’ll make us breakfast.” Glad to know it wasn’t only San who seems to go straight to the point when they wake up. You take the bottle and watch him stagger to the kitchen. 

After freshening up, you see that your notes lay untouched. Some of the notes had tear stains, a reminder of what happened. Considering what had went on last night, you figured it was better to keep these out of your sight for the rest of the day. By the time the male calls for you to eat, you’ve put your notes on your table. 

“Eat.” he says almost as an order. It was a hearty meal: rice, egg, meat, oatmeal and fruits. 

“Did you just make an entire course?” 

“Considering how you’ve worked your ass off the past few days leading to exam week. I have to step it up for you.” Seonghwa says as he slides onto his seat across yours, digging into his own meal. You look at your share in guilt but you start to eat as thanks. “You know..” He starts as his eyes stay on his meal. “Working hard is one thing but working yourself senseless is another thing.” He continues. “Getting good grades is important, sure but at the price of your own health?” His frustration was built from concern for your welfare and your recent habits.  “Maybe that exam is important sure but really... Your health is more important.” He goes on.

No wonder his members found him scary when he was angry. He means well but you can’t help but be focused on your academics. That’s the environment you grew up in, unlearning that mentality was going to be hard. “I’m sorry.” You say softly as you eat quietly. You looked like a sad kitten that just got into a fight with their sibling. 

He sighs. “Don’t be. I know how hard headed and driven you are. It’s like juggling two Hongjoongs.” It was a joke just to make you smile even a bit. “I’m just really worried for you.” 

“If it helps, I kept my notes for the day.” 

“Thank god.” 

That makes you laugh. Feeling light for the first time in a while, you finish the food in a better disposition. The rest of the day goes by quietly and for the first time in a while, you find yourself completely relaxed. Seonghwa notices this before you do. Your fingers weren’t fidgety and you just look like you were at peace with your surroundings. He smiles to himself and slides next to you. 

“Wanna play Overcooked?”

The following week goes by almost like a breeze. While you reviewed, you’d talk about it to Seonghwa to test yourself. Even if he didn’t understand any of these concepts you speak of, if it helps you then so be it. He asks you questions on certain topics, making sure you’ve covered everything. It does help you. Sure there were some topics that were tricky but you managed to get through the tests with a little more confidence than before. You had to thank Seonghwa after your exams. By the time you were done with your final exam, you felt a little dazed. A huge weight was off your shoulders and quite frankly, you couldn’t believe it. In your dazed state, you don’t realize your fingers against your lips, unconsciously playing with the skin. It was only when you tasted the iron on your lips that you realize the extent. So you suck on your lip, as you walk home. 

On the way home, you couldn’t help but stop by a few shops to buy some snacks for yourself and Seonghwa. In one shop, you find yourself with front row seats to a couple’s PDA. On normal days, this wouldn’t have affected you but considering how you are now and your nervous ticks have affected you, it hits you harder than usual. You tear your eyes away from them, opting to look at your phone, thinking if there was anything else you think Seonghwa would like. It was a good distraction but it still lingers in your mind. 

“I’m home.” You say as you put the snacks you bought on the counter. Seonghwa manages to welcome you with a proud smile. “Bought you some snacks too.” You add, gesturing to his strawberry milk tea among other things. While he was happy with your purchases, he catches the exhaustion in your eyes. 

“You look like you need rest..” He takes the food you bought for him and also ushers you gently to the living room. He has you sit down on the couch, before he does as well. The way you just drop yourself onto the couch, your eyes trained up on the ceiling as your body practically melts onto the material has the male sighing. 

“What?”

His eyes are trained at you. His gaze heavy with emotions that he had to keep at the back burner for your sake. “You know, I’ve been worried about you since you’ve been preparing for your exams.” He explains and you already know where this was going. Already defensive, you keep your hands in your pockets as you continue to keep your eyes up. The corner of your bottom lip is caught in between your teeth and it makes your dear friend tread carefully. “The boys asked me the other day,” he says slowly. “If you didn’t like holding hands with people.. I meant like, is it something you really don’t like to do with just us or really anyone..?” God why is it now that his speaking skills were going down the drain?

You had to admit, hearing him flounder for the right words was a little endearing. How were you going to tell him though that your evasion to holding hands was due to insecurities? The insecurities only rising when someone’s hand brushes against yours, when someone’s eyes flit to your bitten lips, when you see couples on the streets express their love to each other. Quite frankly, you found it so shallow and stupid to be this conscious but you couldn’t help it. The amount of times you wonder how it would be to be with someone, that question leads you to the imagery of being physically affectionate with them too. 

“I just don’t like the idea of having anyone hold my hands that have been roughened by stress, I guess.” Even to you, you didn’t sound that convincing. You look at your hand, lit by the lamp near you. You could see the picked skin: some healing, some freshly picked at. They feel rough and downright uncomfortable. With the boys, they were already mere friends but they want to hold your hand, what more with a potential lover? 

“What do you mean?” Seonghwa never really expected this type of answer from you. His eyes drift from your tired features to the digits that are up against the light. 

“Don’t you think it’s gross, Seonghwa? The idea of holding someone’s hand that’s been picked at from stress or unconsciously? Cause I’m looking at my hands right now and I can even feel the unevenness from my lips too and even I don’t want anyone touching these.” You admit with a dry laugh. 

It hurts him to know you see yourself like such. The way he sees you was far from it. He admired everything about you. Especially how you’re able to create things with your hands. How deft and agile you can be with your hands to get things done. How your lips were always expressive of your emotions. He realized how seeing your lips curve into a smile or how they let you laugh without a care in the world was his favorite. While others do say that beauty is in the eye of the beholder, he wanted you to change that mindset one way or another. The boys saw you in an amazing light and for you to not see yourself as such, it sucks. 

“Look at me..” Seonghwa says after a moment. You do, you drop your hand and you had a hard time reading his expression. “Do you trust me?” He asks.

“Seonghwa, if you’re going to give me some sort of gag gift from Wooyoung I swear--”

“I’m being serious, do you trust me?” 

They weren’t joking when they say Seonghwa’s scary so you nod. “Yeah, I trust you.” You answer. So he pats the space in between you and him, gesturing for you to come closer. So you do. Your knees touching his from how close the two of you were sitting. He takes a deep breath, his heart racing but there weren’t any thoughts in his head except to reassure you. To reassure you that these perceived flaws will not be a big deal to the ones that love you unconditionally. His hands reach up to your cheeks, thumbs running gently against your cheeks. He brings his lips to gently graze against your forehead, to your cheeks, for a split moment you thought you would feel his lips against yours by how close he was to you but he presses a final kiss on your chin. He respects you so much to go past the boundaries of your friendship so he settles to end the kisses with one on your chin. 

“We don’t mind your imperfections. I’m sure as hell that I don’t. Holding hands, to the boys and to me, is a way we show our appreciation.” His hands drop to his lap. “While yes, hugs, snuggles, nuzzling against you do express those. Have you ever understood why holding hands have been a little different?” 

You shake your head. You always thought that such action would be for couples, always opting to link arms instead with your peers. His hands are then facing up, asking for your hands in his. You hesitate but slowly, you let your guard down, you let your hand rest on top of his. “Holding hands..” He trails off slowly as his hand slowly slips into yours. He doesn’t let your hands come into your line of sight.  The insecurity of seeing how your hand looks was already understood in the first mention. “Is intimate. A soft way of saying, ‘I care about you. I don’t want to lose you. I want you by my side. Be with me in this situation.’  A reassurance. A sign of support. A sign of hope.” As he lists these various reasons, his hand would eventually shift around your hand, holding your hand in his in different ways. In one moment, his hand held yours tenderly, then his fingers interlaced with yours, then he’s linking his pinky with yours. He goes on to give your hand a gentle squeeze. 

“If you’re worried about how someone will think of kissing these lips of yours.” he adds, making you look at him with a gentle nudge of his free hand. “You really shouldn’t worry about it.” He explains with a light chuckle. “The first kiss is rarely an ideal kiss.” Well, he had a point. “The succeeding kisses? They’re still an act of love. Though more intimate, I should say as compared to holding hands.” His eyes flit to your lips for a moment. He does understand your insecurities. He’s been there too; could barely look at his own face on any reflective surface. He didn’t see himself as someone visually appealing. It takes time and he knows that. “Will you let me help you? Help you through these habits and insecurities?” he asks, pulling back from you but still not letting go of your hand. You look at him, feeling oddly naked and vulnerable under his gaze but you nod. A glimmer of his usual bright self peeks through afterwards. 

Without being able to see your hand in his, you bore your watery eyes onto the folds of his shirt. You couldn’t get yourself to look at his eyes, at his face, right now you felt so vulnerable, so naked and only because he had pressed kisses and held your hand. You didn’t see how he smiles warmly at you. 

The next few days were calmer. Your skin is still healing from the picking you’ve done before that talk. It was the days after that proved to be a challenge. You were so focused with your readings that you don’t realize your fingers moving against your skin, trying to remove the uneven bumps that form as it heals. Seonghwa notices though so he brings a book with him and sits next to you. He even brought you a bottle of water with your favorite cake. The movement causes you to stutter in your mindless movement, bringing you momentarily out of your focus. Your eyes sparkle at the snack near you but you manage to focus on your work again with no problem. Seonghwa continues to look as if he was reading, thoroughly interested in what Thomas More thought of what a Utopian society could be. Without missing a beat, his hand slips into the hand that picks and fidgets. He pretends to not notice you looking at him with pink cheeks as he continues to read, pretending as if the book piqued his interest. His fingers intertwined with yours stops you from picking your skin and you reach for the bottle of water that he had already uncapped. It was only then that you realized how much you needed water. The beverage provides cool relief to your body and your lips. 

You don’t notice how your lips have healed from the water he reminds you to drink, from the lip balms he suggests you try, but he does. He sees the improvement, one step at a time. 

As thanks, you squeeze his hand gently. A silent thank you. 

He squeezes your hand in return. A silent reassurance and a silent declaration of his love for you.