stardust | park seonghwa ✓

27

A loud knock interrupts me from answering him and we turn our heads to a glowering San, banging his fist on the window.

"Can you guys stop flirting and get a move on?" his voice is a little muffled behind the glass but we hear him otherwise. San raises his eyebrow impatiently, I can tell he's getting annoyed by how his eyes seem to darken.

"We weren't flirting," Seonghwa denies, scoffing at his little cousin. He rounds the car and slips into the driver's seat at the same time I take the seat next to his.

"Then what were you doing?" the younger replies in a challenging tone.

"We were talking," I answer.

"You know what, San? Shut up please, we're running late," the brunet next to me revs up the car, blatantly ignoring his question.

"You guys were like, kissing! Kissing! If I hadn't knocked on the window, we'll be running late so save some of your thanks to me," he grumbles, "it would've been fine by me, after all I'm here for the free ticket. If we're late, all the down-sides are weighed down on you -" San's finger points at Seonghwa, "-and you." He points at me.

If only I can reach out and pull San's ear from here, I would. But instead, I turn my body slightly to eye him. "You know, one of my mutuals taught me an Indonesian term for what you're doing right now."

"What?"

"Bacot."

"What does that even mean?!"

"Judging from the situation we're in, I think it means you're talking too much," Seonghwa snorts.

San huffs, pressing himself back into the seats with his arms crossed, irritated. "I hate the both of you," he grumbles.

The stadium is over packed with people. The lights are slightly dimmed and people are wandering about, trying to find their seats and some in the festival section rushing to get front barrier.

From here, I can see San's bright, blond hair standing out around two sections down. As he lowers himself to his seat, I see him flailing his arms animatedly. It's cute; when he turns to the girl next to him with a wide grin and they both drown themselves into a conversation.

Seonghwa and I aren't too far from the stage; a perfect view. The stage is still dimly lit and there are a lot of chatter from all around us.

"We're really here..." I gush out breathlessly, still in disbelief with everything that's happening.

My heart is hammering against my rib cage, so hard I can see my pulse in my vision. My legs are both continuously bopping up and down in anticipation. Is this real?

Seonghwa's hand sneaks into my hold. He does that a lot lately, it feels like second nature now. Ever since that night at the park, my hand seems to find home in his as well.

I turn to face him and he's just about looking the same as me.

"This is so cool," he glances at me, "I never thought I'd be here with you."

"Me neither," I say, lifting my other hand to level it with our eyes and cringe, "look how shaky it is."

"Same. My stomach is churning so much I feel like I can throw up rainbows."

"How do you think San's doing over there?" I question. Our gazes both rest on San not too far from us.

From what I see, he seems fine. He's letting the girl next to him talk and he listens to her intently. When I see the slightly crumpled Hajoong slogan in his hand, a strange wave of warmth bubbles inside me - it's adorable.