ACOUSTIC LOVE ; kim doyoung

03 | ramblings

3 months has passed since Doyoung last saw his mysterious "Sneakers" fan. It isn't a particularly long time, but you are a stranger, after all, and these months have almost been enough for him to forget you.

The key word here is almost.

He taps impatiently on the countertop, rereading the same title for the third time, but still not quite processing it. The trolley full of unshelved books threatening to fall to the floor—if they crash with a loud sound, that would be so embarrassing—looks mockingly at him, and he sighs tiredly. He runs a hand through his hair and looks back down at the book in his hand, and at the label that should tell him where it belongs.

He's about to give up, and maybe tidy the books up later, when the doors to the library slide open and in walks Sneakers, earrings winking at Doyoung. You're dressed in a sweater and jeans, clearly more prepared for this venture to the library than you were when you went to the convenience store a few months back.

"Hi," you say quietly. "I'd like to return these books– Doyoung?" Your voice rises just a little above the appropriate volume, but you keep yourself in check. "What are you doing here?"

"I work here," Doyoung replies, gesturing for you to hand your books over. As you do so, he catches sight of the mark on your hand and grabs your wrist, tilting the back of your hand upwards for him to see. "Where'd you get this bruise?"

His voice is rough, his tone harsher than it should be, but he's on high alert. He didn't expect to see you injured, and he wonders briefly if he should be concerned.

You laugh unsurely. "It's... a birthmark." Embarrassed, Doyoung lets your wrist drop, bowing his head apologetically.

"Sorry. I got worried for a second there."

You wave it off. "No, no. It's fine. Don't you have a job, though? How do you have the time to work at the library?"

"I'm flattered you think that our band earns enough money for me to pay for my own food, but it doesn't. That's more of a growing hobby. I work here, at the library, and sometimes I wait tables at The French Ladle." He goes quiet for a moment, and the only sound in the library is the 'beep' of the barcode scanner as he scans the items. "I'm sorry, I never got your name...?"

"Y/n," you reply. "Y/n L/n. I'm waiting to go to university. I'm 18."

"Ah. Ah, I see," he says in understanding. "I'm 19. I'm having a semester break right now, so... there's all this work." He laughs awkwardly under his breath, and you nod.

"How are you? I haven't seen you since the convenience store. Have you come to any of our concerts since?"

Your brows knit together in confusion. "You've had concerts since the second one?"

Doyoung looks even more confused than you, if that's possible. "Yes, we've had one just last week."

"Oh. I didn't know, I did go to the second one y'all held outdoors. It was great, but I only went with one other friend, so the experience just wasn't the same. I guess we've just been too busy– Oh. I think I know why none of my friends have invited me to go again."

Doyoung jerks his head at you to continue, trailing his fingers down the spines of the books as he stacks them up neatly.

"The second time I went to the open-air concert, there were these drunk guys hitting on me afterwards, and I was fine—" you say hurriedly, seeing the worried look on his face— "I was fine, but I kind of got into a fight with them and I guess my friend felt like the concerts were unsafe, or something? I don't know, I haven't been keeping up with your band, don't even remember its name, so. I guess I just stopped going."