we the cursed, nct dream ✔

part thirty-seven

⇉ the one with the liquor cabinet.

part thirty-seven

She loves the rain, but hates the thunder.

It doesn't even make sense. Juno hasn't gone through any trauma; there is no harrowing childhood experience or memory that can atone for why thunder and lightning freak her out so much. And yet here she is, laying in fetal position with the comforter over her, trying to ignore the crashing sounds from outside.

It's no use.

She throws up the covers for a moment to glance over at her kitten, who is sleeping peacefully in her corner. Shawty doesn't seem the least bit perturbed by the weather, body completely still as she snoozes.

When Juno comes to the conclusion that she just will not be getting any sleep tonight, she silently clambers out of bed, throws a robe over her nightclothes, and steps outside.

The hallway's quiet as a morgue, as the time is almost two in the morning - most normal people are still in bed, sleeping. Juno doesn't even think about where she's going, but when she finally comes upon the kitchen, she isn't surprised. It's strange; out of the variety of locations in this building, here is where she feels the safest.

She doesn't head forward to where the cafeteria is; just stays behind in the kitchen itself. After fetching herself a cup of water, she sits down at one of the bar stools. The light is on, but she prays that she's being quiet enough not to get caught. She's already feeling more at ease.

And she can barely hear the thunder now.

Suddenly, the back doors swing open. In a flash, Juno has grabbed her cup and folded herself into the space under one of the counters, heart pounding, hardly daring to breathe as she hides. She can sense whoever it is stopping, surveying the place, and the footsteps begin to sound closer to her hiding spot.

"Who's in here?" they call, but not too loudly.

Juno blinks rapidly. She recognizes that voice. Tentatively, she raises her head over the top of the counter to confirm her hunch, and her face promptly twists into a scowl. "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing," Haechan retorts, cocking a brow, not looking surprised in the least to see her there.

She doesn't bother replying to him, only gets up and sits back down at the counter to continue nursing her cup of water. There's complete silence for a moment as he reaches deep into one of the fridges to retrieve something, and then he settles into the chair beside her.

"Go away."

"No."

Juno finally allows her eyes to stray over to him. "You've got a chocolate cake addiction," she comments, when she sees the almost-full dessert in front of him. "Leave some for tomorrow."

"These are leftovers; we're allowed to have them," he says. "They make new batches of stuff every day."

"And you're going to dig into all that by yourself?" she asks skeptically.

"Why?" he smirks. "If you want some, you could just say so."

She stares down the cake for a minute. It takes every ounce of her willpower to finally look away, trying to keep her pride. "No, thanks. Enjoy," she says, sounding like she really hopes he doesn't.

Haechan eyes her. "You hate me," he notes then, a statement.

Juno inclines her head slightly. "It's more of a mild irritation at your general existence than hate." Her eyes flick over to him.