𝗿𝗼𝗺𝗮𝗻𝗰𝗶𝗻𝗴, han seojun

˗ˋ 59

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━━━ " 📂  " ‍..⃗. ༉

𝙍 𝙊 𝙈 𝘼 𝙉 𝘾 𝙄 𝙉 𝙂

! chapter fifty-nine ─── ʚĭɞ

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"You know, I didn't exactly expect you to do this." Miyeon's words were slightly muffled as she pulled the helmet off of her head, shaking her head only slightly as she did so, getting the hair out of her face with ease.

Seojun did the same, flicking away the strands of hair that inched too close to brushing his eyes, looking up at the girl as she swung her leg over the side of the bike, standing up and using the window of another car to adjust her clothes.

"You shouldn't bother with that - you'll be climbing up that ladder in a minute." Seojun looked away from the girl to the house that stood at the end of the street. "I shouldn't have come so close, your mom could've heard."

"I think she'll probably suspect it's just some random hooligan." Miyeon tore her eyes away from her appearance, deeming the reflection staring back at her not too rumpled from the drive there. "And you didn't answer me properly."

"Hey - I could barely hear you." The Han boy's eyebrows jerked upwards, lips forming somewhat of a pout as he defended himself, looking rather grumpy as he glanced over at the girl, before down at the helmet balanced in his hands. "Just because you've lost all trust in me doesn't mean that it's true."

"I haven't lost all trust in you - and I've already explained this, I just thought Suho.." Miyeon trailed off, seeing the flicker of laughter appear in the boy's eyes, realising he was teasing her. "Just answer me."

"Fine. I might hate you Hwang Miyeon, but that doesn't mean I'm going to let you stay there." He finally said, and Miyeon looked satisfied with his answer for all of a single second.

"It doesn't seem like you hate me." Miyeon said rather simply, and Seojun's head shot towards her. She only smirked, pushing the helmet she wore into his hands and taking off towards the house.

"Hey - if you take too long I'm going to come and check up on you." Seojun shouted after her, balancing the helmet on top of his own.

"Don't worry, I've asked Eunjoo to keep the witch distracted - and I'll just try to text you or something." The girl didn't even glance back at the Han boy as she began to walk towards the house, waving her phone in the air before slipping it back into her pocket.

Seojun watched as she approached her parents' home, peering over the back gate before slipping through it. Out of sight for a moment, he kept his eyes trained on the ladder and soon saw her climbing up at it. He had done the same thing so many times before - and it seemed that Miyeon was rather practised at it as well.

Within moments, the Hwang girl had climbed the ladder and rather nimbly jumped over the edge of her balcony. She tried the door into her room, and when it pushed open she looked back at Seojun, giving him a thumbs up before slipping inside.

She knew she didn't have much time, and so, whilst she was texting Eunjoo to keep her mother distracted, she had also asked for her to get out her biggest, carry-able bag, as well as a few necessities like her school stuff and a few clothes.

The bag was left in her wardrobe, and Miyeon moved as quickly and as quietly as she could to pack up as many things as she needed, feeling awful for leaving some things but knowing that they could easily be brought along another time.

The trip was simply for things that she needed in order to stay away from the house, and so she carefully tucked away things she wanted to get at a later date, instead using up the spare space in the bag for perfume, makeup, a few books and most importantly, her box of things from when she was a trainee.

She had taken it away with her to New York, knowing that if her mother got her hands on it then there would be no chance of her getting it back. It was a similar situation then, Miyeon was sure that if her mother figured she wasn't coming back to the house for sure, then her room would be ransacked.

But there was only one problem, and it appeared after she had managed to pack everything else that she deemed necessary into the bag, including the old stuffed teddy bear she had had since she was a child.

Her lyric book. Any song that she had written, when she was a trainee or not, was in that book. And she couldn't find it anywhere. "Shit." She swore under her breath, the room that she had called her own seeming to eat up the lone word, the only proof of an inhabitant it had since the day before.

"I don't suppose you're looking for this?" Miyeon's head snapped towards the door from the drawer she was rifling through. She hadn't even heard it open, but stood there, framed by the almost blinding light from the hallway, was Yujin.

Her song book was dangling in front of her, pinched between her index finger and thumb.

Miyeon's heart plummeted to her stomach. She was in trouble, and a lot of it.