糖和记忆 —

[joonsexual]

SUGARANDMEMORIES
a one / one between two oddly busy people

[joonsexual]

(Liu Xiao-Ling)

Sixth.

She bit her lower lip — distressed. Her eyes burned as she stared at the number.

Sixth — how had it happened? How had it happened?

Not wanting to linger around the crowd of excited screams, Liu Xiao-Ling left — her steps heavy and angry. But, mostly, angry.


(Wang Wei-Jian)

He whistled as he slipped his bag over his shoulder, smiling widely when his phone rang in a new message.

These days, only one person ever bothered to mail him and, in his opinion, it was perfectly fine.

If anything, it was actually better this way.

Flipping the screen open, Wei-Jian lost his smile.

This won't work anymore.

The characters seemed to blur in and out of focus as he read and reread the message. And, eventually, they seemed to lose meaning altogether — existing as nothing more than busy, digital strokes of indecipherable pictures.

No, no, no — no.

Gritting his teeth together in defiance, Wei-Jian ran out of the classroom — his heart beating faster than he had ever known it to.

Faster than he had ever thought possible. And, for one crazy moment, he wondered if things would be better if he just dropped dead — if his heart just gave out to the pain. If everything just stopped.

[.purinsu]

( Wu Jun )

'Look over here.'

He focused his stare — willing the other person to turn around, to look up from their phone. 'Please look over here.'

But Wei-Jian never did and Jun felt oddly alone again when the taller brunette left — his pace unusually hurried. He was probably going to meet up with his girlfriend again.

And, not for the first time, Wu Jun wished the one Wei-Jian was rushing to meet was him.


( Li Dong-Bo )

He smirked as he found his name — first, where it should be. Where it will always be.

Satisfied, Dong-Bo wove away from the crowd. He wondered how Xiao-Ling had taken the news — if she was, maybe, crying in the girl's room at, once again, having been beaten by a no-good, punk.

Taking out his phone, the blonde dialed his favorite number. Tonight, was going to be his treat.

But when the phone went to voice mail — twice — Dong-Bo frowned. Where the hell was Wei-Jian and why the fuck wasn't he picking up his calls. Hitting redial, this time with a small sense of desperation, Dong-Bo glanced into his friend's classroom.

Empty. Except for some random kid.

Great. Just where was this little shit?

[joonsexual]

( Liu Xiao-Ling )

She was not going to cry. She had an image to maintain — a character to play. Taking a deep breath and willing her distraught away, Xiao-Ling opened the door, her expression both severe and frightening.

Unlike the current president, who was popular and well-liked amongst his peers, Xiao-Ling was the person most people avoided. She was always too competitive, too extreme, and too unsociable.

She was also too unconcerned about others.

Taking a seat by the president, who hadn't said a word to her yet, Xiao-Ling flipped open the notebook — eyes skimming through the names of clubs and their funding requests. Of course they want more money. Everyone wants more money.

"This is impossible," she hissed out in annoyance, frustration already starting to well up in her chest. "We don't have this kind of money."

God, she didn't want to be here right now. She wanted to be home, on her bed, surrounded by her pillows and blankets, and crying.

She wanted to fucking cry.


( Wang Wei-Jian )

"Please —*I just want to talk!"

He rested his head against the door, waiting for her voice. "Please, Mei, we have to talk."

Even he could hear how desperate — how panicked — he sounded, but he didn't care. He didn't care that the neighbors were watching him with critical eyes —*judging him. He didn't care that his uniform was stained with grass from when he tripped on his way over here. he didn't care that — right now — was the least cool person alive.

He didn't care about any of that because, right now, he was at the edge of something scary and frightening.

"Mei!" He tried again, fist pounding against the door. "Please, please!"

But there was no answer. There was nothing, but the deafening sound of silence.

[.purinsu]

( Qin Chang-Ming )

She looked miserable. She looked like she was about to cry.

'Today must have been result's day,' Chang-Ming mused. He looked over to the door, half-expecting Xiao-Ling's "rival" to burst through — gloating and pulling pigtails.

But nothing happened and, when the seconds ticked into minutes, Chang-Ming figured the loud-mouthed blonde wasn't going to show. 'A date?' Probably.

"This is impossible."

Turning to the vice-president, Chang-Ming furrowed his brows in confusion. "I'm—"

"We don't have this kind of money."

Oh, the budget. He had forgotten that the treasurer, an unreliable little prat, had skipped duties again. Taking the book away from Xiao-Ling, Chang-Ming went over the numbers. It was a little tight this time — with so many clubs and so many activities...

But that was hardly the problem.

Xiao-Ling, who was usually so efficient with numbers, wasn't losing her cool over the typical budget strains. If she was, she would have broken down years ago from the work.

"Xiao-Ling," he began, placing a hand on her shoulder. "It'll be okay."



... ;

lol, sorry about Chang-Ming. I'll fix up his character soon.

[joonsexual]

( Liu Xiao-Ling )

Looking up at the president, Xiao-Ling fought back her tears.

This was ridiculous. This — everything.

Taking a deep breath, the brunette sniffed, chin raised. "Well, we won't be giving the photography club any increase in funding." Right — best thing to do at these times was to work. To work, work, work, and work.

"The sports clubs — track and field — will get the biggest siphon," she continued, mind already working at a bullet's pace to keep up with the numbers. "I think—"

Sixth.

Clenching her fists at the reminder, Xiao-Ling sucked in her breath — shaky and trembling. This was so unlike her and she knew that she probably looked weak. She didn't want to look weak and, especially, not in front of Chang-Ming. "I think we should deny further funding for remaining groups."

There. Done.

But she couldn't get up. She couldn't move her body anymore than she could stop the tears from welling up in her eyes. This was so embarrassing.

This was the worst.



Haha, don't worry about, lol. This is a lot of characters to manage. I'm still trying to figure out Xiao Ling and Wei Jian.

>____<;