omgexchangemod (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
omgexchangemod) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
ohmygirlexchange2017-01-06 12:50 am
omgexchangemod) wrote in ohmygirlexchange2017-01-06 12:50 am
Entry tags:
[Mimi/Binnie] The Grin (for @yulologist)
Title: The Grin (for bulletproofanchors/@yulologist)
Rating: PG
Characters/Pairings: Mimi/Binnie
Warnings (if applicable): missing main character
Word-Count: 1475 words
Summary: Yoobin didn’t drown in the pool. She disappeared, and that’s not anything that anyone can be careful of.
Author Notes: I was going to write a very different kind of story, but it decided to go in this direction instead. Hopefully it was worth it!
Prompt: 1) stranger things au: (Binnie) member goes missing but the others know she's still alive somewhere ([Binnie] member is in another dimension and they need to find them)
"I just. . .couldn’t." Hyejin shivers, despite the noon sun practically baking the concrete slabs of the sidewalk around them. Mihyun blinks, and her face swirls with the rippling heat waves for a beat before coming back into focus. Just a few metres away, the pool is clear and blue and completely empty.
She shrugs, feeling a bead of sweat trickle down the back of her neck, bleeding into the limp fabric of her collar. "I’ll see you later then," she says, resting a hand briefly on Hyejin’s shoulder, pulling herself up onto her feet.
Hyejin swallows and nods. "I was going to meet up with Hyojung for milkshakes in a bit anyway," she says, and it’s true but that doesn’t stop her forehead from furrowing slightly with something that shouldn’t be guilt but is anyway.
Survivor’s guilt? Mihyun sometimes wonders. She doesn’t voice the thought, just smiles reassuringly. "Say hi from me."
Mihyun stands here, lime green flip flops on concrete, and watches Hyejin set off down the sidewalk, lace parasol shading her face. It doesn’t stop her hair from curling, damp, around her face, but that’s just Hyejin.
"Be careful," Hyejin calls, looking back over her shoulder, and waits for Mihyun’s nod before she rounds the corner and disappears from view.
Mihyun toes off her flip flops, landing with sad thumps on the concrete, tugging her t-shirt off over her head and stepping out of her cropped jean shorts before slipping into the cool water. Be careful, Hyejin has just said, always says, but they both know that the platitude doesn’t mean anything at all.
Yoobin didn’t drown in the pool. She disappeared, and that’s not anything that anyone can be careful of.
Mihyun takes a deep breath before she dives in between the blue, and opens her eyes beneath the surface. Here, suspended, everything makes sense for a moment before she needs to surface again.
Yoobin is just out of sight, toes skimming the water as she sits on the edge of the pool, and Mihyun will cough and splutter and get water in her eyes and Yoobin will laugh and everything will be exactly like it’s supposed to be.
Mihyun breathes out the last of the air in her lungs, bubbles rising to burst against the surface, and lets herself rise into the air. There’s no one there.
"Where were you all afternoon?"
Mihyun doesn’t bother looking up, just hums in response to her mother’s question. Her father is travelling again, just another normal summer evening, the two of them sitting across from each other at the table that stretches out too large for their small family.
Mihyun knows that her parents had wanted a bigger family, and sometimes she catches her mother, standing in the kitchen archway, eyes staring blankly at the middle distance full of playing children that will never actually exist.
Sometimes she wonders if it’s possible to have so much love that it doesn’t fit to stuff all that emotion into a single direction, a single person, without it going a little bit sour, a little more bitter than sweet.
Her mother sighs, the sound muffled by the fingers pressed to her lips, a faux pas that she brushes away as soon as her hands are resting back on the table.
"It’s summer," Mihyun offers, and takes another bite of pasta salad, the rich pesto slick in her mouth. Don’t say it, she thinks, but the bridge has already been crossed.
"I don’t like you swimming in that pool," her mother says, reaction so predictable that Mihyun could mouth the words, but she doesn’t.
Just because you can see the scars, that doesn’t give you the right to dig your fingers in and rip.
"Safe and sound and in time for supper," Mihyun says, not really an answer to something that wasn’t even a question. Her mother sets the fork she was holding back down on the porcelain plate with a single metallic clink. Mihyun takes another bite of salad.
There used to be glow in the dark stars stuck up on the ceiling of her bedroom—Mihyun remembers when she was little and her mother would snuggle up with her in bed, whispering stories in the half dark and they would try to count them and never agree on the number.
Later, after rambling through English homework and tossing each other algebra questions, Yoobin would settle in next to her in their blanket cocoon and they would pretend to find strange new constellations in their artificial sky.
"This one is a unicorn," Yoobin would explain, pointing out the three little stars that made the horn, and then Mihyun would use the same horn to make a narwhal and everything would turn into a pillow fight, until they were lying in a crumple of sheets and a few floating feathers.
"Have you ever kissed anyone before?" Yoobin had asked, that a year ago from tonight, and Mihyun had looked to to meet Yoobin’s eyes, brown flaring gold in the light from the lamp.
"No," Mihyun had said, and Yoobin had leaned over and pressed her lips to Mihyun’s slightly open mouth.
Lying in bed now, looking up at the remaining stars, Mihyun’s mouth still holds the lingering taste of blueberries, almost nothing more than a ghost of a flavour. Her father is somewhere else, probably on the other side of the planet, and her mother is downstairs sipping from a cup that by now has more rum than tea.
She slips out of bed, padding over on bare feet to open the window, and climbs down the trellis.
The surface of the pool reflects the florescent lights, shimmering and glittering as the ripples spread out. Mihyun dips her toe in the water; it’s cooler than it was earlier this afternoon, but the air is still thick with humidity and it doesn’t take any internal convincing before she’s slipping beneath the surface. Floating, she gazes up at the sky, but the stars are obscured by light pollution, a haze that holds the night ransom in grey and faded pink.
She closes her eyes instead and turns over, floating face down instead. Mihyun knows she’ll have to breathe in a few more moments, but at the same time it feels like she could float there forever, suspended in last hours of a day when the taste of Yoobin was more than wishful thinking.
Sometimes she wonders what would have happened if she’d been there too. Why was Yoobin at the pool in the middle of the night anyway? All they have is a grainy black and white surveillance video, that cuts off into static when Yoobin slips into the water. The static lasts less than a minute, but when the image resolves, the pool is empty.
Mihyun listens to the static in her head, the sound filling her body, vibrating till the end of her fingertips until it feels like the whole world is only static. It’s only when the water around her begins to tingle too that she opens her eyes to see the florescent pool lights flickering on and off, sparks of light floating in the water that’s sloshing from side to side—without thinking, she kicks down to the bottom of the pool, hand pressed flat to the blue tile as it hums beneath her skin.
Maybe she should be scared, but she isn’t. Mihyun pushes her hand against the tile and her fingers feel oddly indistinct for a split-second before something pushes them back, another hand and arm emerging from the blue. The fingernails are painted purple.
"Yoobin," Mihyun whispers, and the tile seems to dissolve between them, Mihyun here and Yoobin just across the porcelain divide.
"Mihyun," Yoobin’s mouth shapes the words, but there’s no sound.
Mihyun swallows water, coughing so that she has to rise to the surface to breathe and choke up everything that shouldn’t be in her lungs. By the time she peers back through the waves, the blue of the tile is undisturbed and Yoobin is gone.
"Was that really Yoobin?" she asks, and the lights all flicker once before shining on, steady and bright.
Is it once for yes, twice for no, or the other way around? Mihyun wonders. The water is cold against her skin, all of a sudden, and by the time she crawls out of the pool, she’s shivering despite the summer night air that pools, heavy, around her ankles.
When Mihyun opens her eyes, sun shining harsh through the window and across the bed, the pool at night is as indistinct as a dream, the kind that slips through your fingers as you emerge from sleep.
It’s only when she yawns, stretching an arm up over her head before bringing her hand down to her mouth, that she smells the sharp scent of chlorine on her skin.
Rating: PG
Characters/Pairings: Mimi/Binnie
Warnings (if applicable): missing main character
Word-Count: 1475 words
Summary: Yoobin didn’t drown in the pool. She disappeared, and that’s not anything that anyone can be careful of.
Author Notes: I was going to write a very different kind of story, but it decided to go in this direction instead. Hopefully it was worth it!
Prompt: 1) stranger things au: (Binnie) member goes missing but the others know she's still alive somewhere ([Binnie] member is in another dimension and they need to find them)
"There are more things in heaven and earth,
Horatio,
Than are dreamt of in your philosophy."
—Hamlet, Hamlet Act 1, scene 5
"I just. . .couldn’t." Hyejin shivers, despite the noon sun practically baking the concrete slabs of the sidewalk around them. Mihyun blinks, and her face swirls with the rippling heat waves for a beat before coming back into focus. Just a few metres away, the pool is clear and blue and completely empty.
She shrugs, feeling a bead of sweat trickle down the back of her neck, bleeding into the limp fabric of her collar. "I’ll see you later then," she says, resting a hand briefly on Hyejin’s shoulder, pulling herself up onto her feet.
Hyejin swallows and nods. "I was going to meet up with Hyojung for milkshakes in a bit anyway," she says, and it’s true but that doesn’t stop her forehead from furrowing slightly with something that shouldn’t be guilt but is anyway.
Survivor’s guilt? Mihyun sometimes wonders. She doesn’t voice the thought, just smiles reassuringly. "Say hi from me."
Mihyun stands here, lime green flip flops on concrete, and watches Hyejin set off down the sidewalk, lace parasol shading her face. It doesn’t stop her hair from curling, damp, around her face, but that’s just Hyejin.
"Be careful," Hyejin calls, looking back over her shoulder, and waits for Mihyun’s nod before she rounds the corner and disappears from view.
Mihyun toes off her flip flops, landing with sad thumps on the concrete, tugging her t-shirt off over her head and stepping out of her cropped jean shorts before slipping into the cool water. Be careful, Hyejin has just said, always says, but they both know that the platitude doesn’t mean anything at all.
Yoobin didn’t drown in the pool. She disappeared, and that’s not anything that anyone can be careful of.
Mihyun takes a deep breath before she dives in between the blue, and opens her eyes beneath the surface. Here, suspended, everything makes sense for a moment before she needs to surface again.
Yoobin is just out of sight, toes skimming the water as she sits on the edge of the pool, and Mihyun will cough and splutter and get water in her eyes and Yoobin will laugh and everything will be exactly like it’s supposed to be.
Mihyun breathes out the last of the air in her lungs, bubbles rising to burst against the surface, and lets herself rise into the air. There’s no one there.
"Where were you all afternoon?"
Mihyun doesn’t bother looking up, just hums in response to her mother’s question. Her father is travelling again, just another normal summer evening, the two of them sitting across from each other at the table that stretches out too large for their small family.
Mihyun knows that her parents had wanted a bigger family, and sometimes she catches her mother, standing in the kitchen archway, eyes staring blankly at the middle distance full of playing children that will never actually exist.
Sometimes she wonders if it’s possible to have so much love that it doesn’t fit to stuff all that emotion into a single direction, a single person, without it going a little bit sour, a little more bitter than sweet.
Her mother sighs, the sound muffled by the fingers pressed to her lips, a faux pas that she brushes away as soon as her hands are resting back on the table.
"It’s summer," Mihyun offers, and takes another bite of pasta salad, the rich pesto slick in her mouth. Don’t say it, she thinks, but the bridge has already been crossed.
"I don’t like you swimming in that pool," her mother says, reaction so predictable that Mihyun could mouth the words, but she doesn’t.
Just because you can see the scars, that doesn’t give you the right to dig your fingers in and rip.
"Safe and sound and in time for supper," Mihyun says, not really an answer to something that wasn’t even a question. Her mother sets the fork she was holding back down on the porcelain plate with a single metallic clink. Mihyun takes another bite of salad.
There used to be glow in the dark stars stuck up on the ceiling of her bedroom—Mihyun remembers when she was little and her mother would snuggle up with her in bed, whispering stories in the half dark and they would try to count them and never agree on the number.
Later, after rambling through English homework and tossing each other algebra questions, Yoobin would settle in next to her in their blanket cocoon and they would pretend to find strange new constellations in their artificial sky.
"This one is a unicorn," Yoobin would explain, pointing out the three little stars that made the horn, and then Mihyun would use the same horn to make a narwhal and everything would turn into a pillow fight, until they were lying in a crumple of sheets and a few floating feathers.
"Have you ever kissed anyone before?" Yoobin had asked, that a year ago from tonight, and Mihyun had looked to to meet Yoobin’s eyes, brown flaring gold in the light from the lamp.
"No," Mihyun had said, and Yoobin had leaned over and pressed her lips to Mihyun’s slightly open mouth.
Lying in bed now, looking up at the remaining stars, Mihyun’s mouth still holds the lingering taste of blueberries, almost nothing more than a ghost of a flavour. Her father is somewhere else, probably on the other side of the planet, and her mother is downstairs sipping from a cup that by now has more rum than tea.
She slips out of bed, padding over on bare feet to open the window, and climbs down the trellis.
The surface of the pool reflects the florescent lights, shimmering and glittering as the ripples spread out. Mihyun dips her toe in the water; it’s cooler than it was earlier this afternoon, but the air is still thick with humidity and it doesn’t take any internal convincing before she’s slipping beneath the surface. Floating, she gazes up at the sky, but the stars are obscured by light pollution, a haze that holds the night ransom in grey and faded pink.
She closes her eyes instead and turns over, floating face down instead. Mihyun knows she’ll have to breathe in a few more moments, but at the same time it feels like she could float there forever, suspended in last hours of a day when the taste of Yoobin was more than wishful thinking.
Sometimes she wonders what would have happened if she’d been there too. Why was Yoobin at the pool in the middle of the night anyway? All they have is a grainy black and white surveillance video, that cuts off into static when Yoobin slips into the water. The static lasts less than a minute, but when the image resolves, the pool is empty.
Mihyun listens to the static in her head, the sound filling her body, vibrating till the end of her fingertips until it feels like the whole world is only static. It’s only when the water around her begins to tingle too that she opens her eyes to see the florescent pool lights flickering on and off, sparks of light floating in the water that’s sloshing from side to side—without thinking, she kicks down to the bottom of the pool, hand pressed flat to the blue tile as it hums beneath her skin.
Maybe she should be scared, but she isn’t. Mihyun pushes her hand against the tile and her fingers feel oddly indistinct for a split-second before something pushes them back, another hand and arm emerging from the blue. The fingernails are painted purple.
"Yoobin," Mihyun whispers, and the tile seems to dissolve between them, Mihyun here and Yoobin just across the porcelain divide.
"Mihyun," Yoobin’s mouth shapes the words, but there’s no sound.
Mihyun swallows water, coughing so that she has to rise to the surface to breathe and choke up everything that shouldn’t be in her lungs. By the time she peers back through the waves, the blue of the tile is undisturbed and Yoobin is gone.
"Was that really Yoobin?" she asks, and the lights all flicker once before shining on, steady and bright.
Is it once for yes, twice for no, or the other way around? Mihyun wonders. The water is cold against her skin, all of a sudden, and by the time she crawls out of the pool, she’s shivering despite the summer night air that pools, heavy, around her ankles.
When Mihyun opens her eyes, sun shining harsh through the window and across the bed, the pool at night is as indistinct as a dream, the kind that slips through your fingers as you emerge from sleep.
It’s only when she yawns, stretching an arm up over her head before bringing her hand down to her mouth, that she smells the sharp scent of chlorine on her skin.
no subject