glitch mode°nct dream

nineteen: red mochi

The winds blow past Dasom's long free hair- the bun undone much too early from her drunkenness.

Who knew she had such low alcohol tolerance? (We all knew.)

Feeling burningly warm was a sign of it and the fact that her itchy cardigan was sticking to her skin didn't help at all. So within a step out onto the balcony, she practically ripped it off and dropped it carelessly onto the grass.

She'll claim it back later one way or another. After all, this restaurant belongs to no other than the lucky seven.

The cold of the winds caressed her so soothingly that the moment she plodded away to the small table and plopped herself onto the cushioned chair, the consciousness was knocked out of her.

"Dasom, are you here? Dasom," a curious little puppy calls for her when earlier, among the crowds and from afar, he noticed her climbing up the stairs.

He frowns, unable to find where she is when a slap from the chilly wind catches his attention and only then does he notice the balcony door open.

His eyes light up and he rushes to it. "Dasom!"

At last, the pup has found his beloved companion slumbering peacefully. But in contrary to what he planned on doing; to hang out together with just the two of them, he finds himself taking steps back and pulling his gaze away from her.

Despite not being drunk, his face is times redder than her.

Her black as the night bustier top that holds glitters like the sparkling stars and spaghetti straps that fall loosely from her shoulders is too unfamiliar for Jisung.

Why is he always the one caught up in high tension scenarios?

  Jisung gulps, his apple bobbing up and down his throat so conspicuously nervously as he slowly looks back her face- keeping his gaze far away from her torso as best as he can.

  "Ahem, Dasom. Dasom, wake up," he slowly awakens, knocking on her forehead instead of shaking her by the shoulders. According to Jisung's logic, it's rude to touch her by her bare shoulders and so, knocking her skull like a door is the better option.

  The girl grumbles and difficulty lifts her droopy, heavy eyelids up. Her vision blurry and only after a couple of slow blinks can she see him staring down at her with wide, frantic eyes- pupils dancing everywhere.

  "Jisung~" She sings, clearly still drunk and stretches her arms out to hook them around his neck.

  He stiffens, face getting redder beyond logic "Dasom, let me get you some water first. You had too much to drink."

  "Hm?" She sounds, trying to cock up a brow but failing miserably and a goofy grin places itself on her face. "From the looks of it, you're the one who 'had too much to drink.'"

  She copies his words, complete with deepening her voice and all.

  "I'm not drunk! I-It's just you're really close..." He mumbles and captures his bottom lip between his teeth, embarrassed and flustered. But he should've spoken clearer to avoid further panic.

  His eyes pop open when she abruptly yanks him close, noses almost touching and Som lets out a hiccup before giggling like lovesick teen.

  "You're really cute with being shy and all, but I really need you to project so I can hear you," she whispers and Jisung's heart leaps out of his chest, legs wobble and all the little workers in his brain are screeching, shrieking and running around their burning office.

  He can't help it. The sparkle in her dazed, half-lidded eyes, pink cheeks and nose, slurry, incoherent speech and little noises of amusement everytime she finds him amusing- everything is taking control of him.

  She's controlling him- but he's not sure whether that's a win or lose for him.

  "Dasom, can I—" Jisung breathes out, eyes flickering from hers to her red lips from the effect of the alcohol inside her. He gulps, hands sliding up her forearms to the joint of her shoulders, holding them tight.

  He leans in and Dasom shuts her eyes, expecting pressure on her lips, but instead feels it on the space between her brows, her nose, cheeks- anywhere but her lips.

  She blinks fast, puzzled, and he pulls away after his tactic successfully makes her loosen her grip using the art of confusion.

  Jisung smiles shyly, shakily, gaze unable to meet her and complexion mimicking that of a tomato.
"I'll call the hyungs."

  And he disappears like the Flash.