Chapter Text
"Have you heard?" Jeonghan asks in what he wants to seem a nonchalant tone. He's pretending to be flipping through some papers on a clipboard, but there is nothing written on them except for a few scribbles on the first one.
Seungkwan raises an eyebrow. It’s not like he doesn’t know what Jeonghan is really asking about but he would rather try to play dumb for a bit longer. "That entire tray of glasses Mingyu was carrying colliding with the kitchen floor five minutes ago? Oh, absolutely."
Jeonghan, having none of it, humms as if he is considering his next words carefully. "And have you heard nothing of a certain someone recently back in town?"
"You mean Mister Hansol Chwe? Of course I've heard, but what does that have to do with me?"
Seungkwan puts the last ornament in the tree and turns to show Jeonghan just how much he does not care that Hansol is back in town. His heart does a few dangerous flips but he manages to look composed, surprisingly enough.
Jeonghan throws him an unimpressed look. "You can pretend all you want but we both know what that has to do with you. Are you finally going to stop pining and do something about it?"
Seungkwan huffs, greatly offended. He picks up the empty cardboard box where the ornaments had been and clutches it a little too tightly against his chest. "First of all I am not pining."
Jeonghan sends him another look .
"Fine, I'm not pining anymore . I've moved on, ok? We haven't seen each other or talked in ten years, I'm not that pathetic." For some reason, he doesn't sound that confident. He quickly busies himself, and starts picking up the plastic wrappers left lying around from some of the decorations they’ve used and puts them into the box one by one. He’s picked himself back up just like this before, piece by piece. "And second of all, have you forgotten what happened the last time we talked? I don't have to do anything about it, you know, if… hypothetically, there was an it, which there isn't anymore. I told him I loved him and what did he do? Fucked off to America the next day. I did my part. The ball was in his court but he stabbed it, walked all over it and threw it in the trash."
He finishes gathering the plastic wrappers, secures the box under his arm and then looks Jeonghan dead in the eye for one last time before he walks away. "So I think that yeah, whether Chwe Hansol is back in town or not has nothing to do with me."
"Yikes," Minghao, who had been quietly wrapping presents in the corner of the room, concludes appropriately as Seungkwan’s figure departs. Jeonghan admonishes him with a glance but he’s thinking the exact same thing.