Letters On Our Skin || BangChan

18

On Wednesday, two days after my first practice, I am spending dinner at the boys' dorm.
My body hurts in the best way and I am exhausted. Straight up exhausted. But other than that, I am happy.
I've been dancing every day this week for hours. Binna took me to a new tea place yesterday. Life hasn't been this good in years.

I'm in Felix' room, painting his nails in a baby blue color, when Changbin and Han come in.
"Dinner's almost ready," Jisung says.
Changbin plops down next to me and wraps his arms around my middle. He places his chin on my shoulder and watches me paint Felix' pinky finger.
After a moment, I ask, "Are you guys practicing already for this year's anniversary celebration?"
Jisung sniffs at the nail polish bottle and chokes a little.
"This stuff smells disgusting," he says, "And no, not really. Why? Are you?"
I chuckle and gently blow Felix' fingers dry.
"Yes, it's in six weeks. Every band under JYP Entertainment participates, how are you not preparing for it yet?"
"You know how long six weeks are?" Felix admires his nails. "We don't have the time to start worrying about that now!"
I giggle and Changbin tucks on my sleeve.
"Can you do mine, too?" He asks and shows me his fingers.
I start painting his nails with the polish, while saying, "Chi has these crazy cool ideas for the celebration broadcast. I think you guys will really like what she has planned for your songs. She's starting to modify the choreographies to fit more people and all that stuff. It'll be... monumental."
I whisper the last word in English and grin to myself.
Jisung, on the other side of the bed, repeats after me like an echo. "Monumental."
I give him a smile and he blushes with a satisfied expression on his face.

Somehow, the boys have started using English language around me more and more. It's as if it encourages them to practice English when they're around me. In the beginning it was slightly irritating when I asked them something in Korean and they'd answer in English. But now it's quite cute. A few days ago, Felix admitted to me that Chan had suggested to the boys they start doing this to learn and practice English better, but I secretly think he misses the language.
I know I do.
And it might sound stupid to miss a language. But it's part of home, it's what I grew up with. It's the language my mom taught me, it's a piece of home. I can understand how Chan and Felix feel. Languages carry memories, too.

Soon we hear Minho's voice from the kitchen, calling everyone to the living room.
"Look how pretty Ollie made my nails, Channie-hyung," Felix says once we arrive at the dinner table. He shows Chan his nails like a child and Chan looks at them like the dutyful father would look at his kid's newest artwork.
He makes an impressed sound and says, "Wow, they look really, really pretty!"
Felix beams and takes his seat. I sit down next to Chan, who casually brushes a strand of my hair behind my ear.
My heart skips, but I try to ignore it. Instead, I reach out to snatch his basecap from his head.
I twirl it around my hand.
"Where are your manners, Mister Bang?" I grin slyly, and he chuckles.
"I wore that for a reason," he says and tries to snatch it back, but I already chucked it to Seungmin across the table, "I have a bad hair day today."
My eyes travel over his appearance. A black T-shirt, a grey pair of shorts. His hair curls in dark tufts on his head, unruly and adorable. Curls make him look a lot softer and younger. I love them.
I gently tug at one of the curls around his forehead and let it slip through my fingers. Velvety soft.
"I don't think you have a bad hair day," I finally say and tuck the curl back a little, "I think you look pretty handsome."
We both blush and look away. Some times flirting is easier than others.

After dinner, Chan drives me home again. I have an early morning tomorrow, so I've decided against staying the night, and I don't want to make Hana hate me right in the first week. She already does so enough as it is, I don't need to add "being late" to her list.
In front of my building, Chan parks the car and waits for me to get out.
I hesitate. I don't want to leave yet. I don't want to be alone. I want to spend more time with him. I-...
I look over at Chan. He has been watching me, and I can't quite place the look in his eyes. Sometimes he's like an open book for me, and then there are times like this where he'll just look at me, not saying anything, watching me with his eyes half opened.
It's quiet in the car, and I can hear the noises of the city outside of this car.
My eyes land on his hand between us. I take it between mine.
His hand is warm, his fingers strong. I lace our fingers together and it feels like finishing a puzzle. Every piece right where it should be, everything fits perfectly together.
My hand looks small in his, and I can't take my eyes away from the artful masterpiece our locked hands are.
Finally, after moments, seconds, minutes, I pry my eyes away from our hands and take a deep breath.
"Do you want to see something beautiful?" I ask.
"Anytime," he answers.