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thebookofyouth · 4 years

Text

Keyboards and Email Screens

Pairing: Wonpil x Reader

Words: 5.9+ k

Warnings: fluff, angst

Summary: Its truly a small world but you would have never guess that the smart and sweet online, anonymous romance email pal you had fallen for was to be someone you know far too well.

Inspired By: A twitter thread by @/teeuviel1227 called Day6 as Old School 90′s romcom tropes.

M A S T E R L I S T

‘Tamerlane and Other Poems.’

Written by a young Edger Allen Poe, said to have only had fifty copies printed in 1827. Over the years of course the number that are still in existence have greatly dropped but a stained and worn out first edition has surfaced and of course as a bookstore collector (and a book lover) you just had to get your hands on it.

Current Bid: $662, 500

Your fingertips danced across your keyboard with much concentration, checking the comment boards and bidding what you needed to all at the same time. It wasn’t the first time you were in a cut throat competitive bidding war with book lovers far and wide, in fact the collection of antique books that you had was quiet impressive. “Give up already!” Frustration levels were definitely rising as the clock hit hour six of the auction, still not stopping the millions of people from lurking, waiting and bidding on such a rare piece of literature.

Current Bid: $700,000

Everything about the entire process was stressful, irritating and far from an exciting way to spend your Friday afternoon… although there is almost always a bright side.

This bright side being an anonymous boy who goes by the username ‘greatexpiltations451′ seemed to make things a little more…interesting, for lack of a better term. The two of you had met over the auction of the signed manuscript of The Outsiders. The bid only went up to $21.95 so it wasn’t too intense it didn’t stop Mr. greatexpiltations from shooting you an email.

Dear prideandbooks,

Congratulations on the signed manuscript of The Outsiders; it was very refreshing to see that there is someone else out there who appreciates The Outsiders and its entirety. Seems as though, you and I were the only two bidding and I have to say I am very impressed in how fast you were to bid two dollars for every one I did, I would have truly gone higher but your strong will was very intriguing and admirable. I have no doubt in my mind that you will take good care of such a cool find.

Stay gold, prideandbooks.

- greatexpiltations

It was the first of an ongoing, back and forth string of emails; starting as updating each other on upcoming auctions and soon it turned into you sending him photos of your collections or simply updating him on a book that made you think to yourself ‘greatexpiltations’ would like this.

And now here you were, one tab open on the emails he was sending you and one with the current auction the two of you were in fact participating in.

Dear greatexpiltations,

How are you holding up? This is probably the most cut throat auction the two of us have participated in together huh? May the better person win, I guess.

Good luck to you, friend.

Dear prideandbooks,

If that is the case then you would win hands down..friend. Although, dont think just because I enjoy your emails I will take it easy on you. I can be ruthless and strong willed too ma’am. I wish you the luck you wish me but by a million, muhaha, beat that!!! (:

He always softened up his empty threats with a smiley face in hopes you wouldn’t think he was actually trying to challenge you. Even still, he wasn’t lying when he said he wouldn’t go easy on you because right there in bold caps:

GREATEXPILTATIONS HAS JUST BID $700,200

Current Bid: $700,200

Normally there would be a deep and blood boiling annoyance residing in the pit of your stomach at the fact your bookstore budget was practically throbbing in pain at the increasing number but in this case, you couldn’t seem to wipe the grin from your face as your eyes momentary saw the back of your skull in a playful manner.

Dear greatexpiltations,

You’re cute if you think you could beat me in this one. You seem cute no matter what you do but that is besides the point I am trying to make… so wipe that stupid grin off your face because you are going down. ((:

PRIDEANDBOOKS HAS JUST BID $710,000

Current Bid: $710,000

There wasn’t even time to admire your work before another bid was placed, deeming a bit too much out of your price range to achieve.

GREATEXPILTATIONS HAS JUST BID $800,000

Current Bid: $800,000

Dear prideandbooks,

Hope you still think i’m cute.

Bidders dropped like flies and you weren’t surprised, an image of a mysterious man sitting in his office with a small smirk plastered on his face flooded your mind, sure the man was faceless but everything about him seemed genuine and sweet, well deserving of the thing you couldn’t get. Of course, little did you know that the image you saw in your mind was very similar to the one that was actually occurring only a quick twenty minutes away, though you left out the small ting in his heart at the thought you might be mad at him for winning.

Dear greatexpiltations,

Of course I do. Congratulations on the artwork you have just won! You deserve it.

Shutting your laptop, you stood from your chair and took a much needed stretch, your limbs feeling stiff and achy form all the sitting. Your large office room with a wall made up of floor to ceiling windows sent you into a daydreaming daze, the kitten gray clouds filling the sky in a beautiful gradient of blues and grays. The hues of the colors took your mind to a place it went rather often:

greatexpiltations.

Questions flooded your mind of who he was, where he lived, and if his smile is as cute as you imaged it to be. The two of you had been talking for about a year, of course it was best to not share any personal information with each other which made every email feel like something was missing. You looked out into the world and wondered what he was looking at, what the sky looked like wherever he was, assuming the sky was the only thing the two of you shared wherever you were.

The knock on your office door and the tiny ding of your phone snapped you out of your ridiculous daze quickly, and the news your intern gave you snapped you out of it even more.

“Kim Wonpil, did what?!”

There was a hint of fear in the interns eyes as metaphorical steam came out of your ears hearing about your rivals new shenanigans. “He has just launched a cute new idea for his chain, he calls it ‘Whats Your Story?’ and basically its donated books wrapped in brown shipping paper with only a brief summary of the book. You aren’t to know the book title or even see the cover, the object being to get book and uncover not only the story but maybe even the story of those who owned the book before.” A mumbled profanity fell from your lips as you basked in the brilliance of yet another one of Kim Wonpil’s ideas. A pain in the ass he was (for your business) but one hell of a bookstore owner he was just the same.

“Okay, meeting in 30 for all interns, and the creative team. Let everyone know please.” Your intern nodded and closed your office door behind him, leaving you in your slight frustration.

A low roll of thunder shook the sky and the windows slightly, it had been raining for a grand total of two weeks, pouring even. It wasn’t really a bad thing exactly, just a minor inconvenience when you wanted to walk across the street to grab lunch but no matter.. it wasn’t something you couldn’t handle. In fact it was rather fun people watching, you got to see gentleman holding the door for woman and woman holding the door for men, you got to see people ramming into people and walking on the wrong side of the street, the good and bad right there below you.

You were totally and completely stumped on any ideas to improve your bookstore, blanking on any ideas to make it just as great and visit worthy as Won & A Million Books. You thought of only one person to bring flip the creative switch in you and so you sought out help from the one and only greatexpiltations.

Greatexpiltations,

I know one of our agreements was not giving out anything too personal but I am in a rut of the mind to help my career flourish. As you know I am a bookstore chain owner but I am currently in some need of inspiration to give my stores a certain… wow factor, for lack of a better word. I could use your creative and inspiring mind to spark something in me. Thank you, friend.

You never had to wait long for a reply, it made you wonder if the two of you had no time difference which would mean maybe the two of you were closer than you thought.. but the deal was don’t share names, or where you live just to protect both of you from something unknown. It just felt easier that way.

Prideandbooks,

Didn’t you say you had a glass case of all the auctioned pieces you have collected over the years? Sitting in your office, you even have cute little plaques underneath each thing? Perhaps putting that in the bookstore of your hometown would look rather good for book lovers far and wide. Locked and sealed by the front desk to be watched at all times of the day, You can call it The Infinite Findings. And yes ma’am I am referring to Perks of Being a Wallflower.

It took everything in you not to reread him calling your plaques cute, the butterflies in your stomach did a whole kick flip and you had to try and fight through it. It was a few months after the two of you met and conversations between the two of you had written themselves, he shared his secret talent of piano and you shared with him your prized collections with the homemade plaques you had made for each item. He basked in the beauty of your collection for what seemed to be hours, waiting on a reply and for a split moment you even thought maybe he was ignoring you… but soon he replied with words that made your stomach do a dance.

Greatexpiltations,

That is a brilliant idea! Of course I am going to have that display on total security… those items mean far to much. I suppose I might have to go out and get ACTUAL plaques made for the case itself and the items inside. Once again I thank you for your handsome wits and inspiration.

Kim Wonpil, sat at his desk in the office building that was far too close to the one you sat in but of course neither one of you knew that. He always read your emails and not once, not twice, but three times. He admired the words your chose to use, sometimes he would even sit, beating himself up over how he timed how long it took you to reply, wondering if you too were sitting in anticipation waiting for a reply. Perhaps he could have tried to play it cool and wait a few minutes, but waiting a few minutes would be minutes wasted by not talking to you. There was so many thoughts flooding his mind of things he shouldn’t say but his heart insisted he say just that, calling things you did cute and while you always seemed to call him ‘friend’, he had a hunch it was more for you than it was for him.

He hadn’t yet shared with you that he too was a bookstore owner but he held on tightly to the fact you were in the same field. He wondered with great curiosity, who exactly you were, what chain you owned and where your home store was. It would be ridiculous of him to ask you and even more so to play detective.

Prideandbooks,

I think your homemade plaques would be better than ones you can get made. Well, duty calls and I must be on my way. I have meetings after meetings and while I MUCH rather sit and talk to you… I must go. Good luck on your ideas and I dont know what the weather is like where you are but its currently pouring where I am so wish me luck on finding an umbrella before I make it across the street.

Your heart skipped a beat subtly as you read it was in fact raining wherever he was, and yes you hated yourself for believing maybe yall resided in the same town but you couldn’t help but let your main wander.

Wonpil headed outside and down the street your office building lay on, all the while you left your office to pitch new ideas to take him down. Idea upon idea flood the white board and you were pleased to see that all of them were nothing short of a genius idea and hope for a feature in the paper just as Wonpil did every so often. “Okay, I think with all of these ideas we can launch a whole new brand for our bookstore.”

Over the next few days, Wonpil looked through any pictures you had sent him, admiring any little detail he could so that he could imagine the girl of his dreams, you were a faceless and busy women that he just couldn’t get enough of. He admired the way your thumb manged to get into almost every single photo you took, the way your voice sounds when you send him a voice memo good morning and goodnight. Sometimes you would let it slip that your rival would always one up you and while you weren’t particular in what exactly it was he did, you mentioned how brilliant they truly are, and how this man sits in his office in his dumb sweaters and stupid smile. Of course he never thought that you were talking about him.

Over the span of the next few weeks your replies were shorter and the wait to get them was longer. Every time a new portion of your ideas were fulfilled it meant shorter time to talk to him, of course he understood and never would he think to be upset about it, but on the other hand.. he did miss you terribly.

Prideandbooks,

The wind carries your name to me,

I dont know what it is and honestly I dont need to know.

I know its beautiful.

Your name is in the way you roll your eyes playfully at any compliment someone throws at you,

Your name is in how bright I imagine your smile to be,

Its written in the stars and all I have to do is find it.

Let the sky carry it with honor as I look up,

staring at the same sky but having not a damn clue in what it means to connect the stars to you.

Wonpil read the poem over about a million times, debating on if he should hit send or not. “Your name is in how bright I imagine your smile to be? Really, Wonpil?.” His disgust was very apparent across his lips and in his eyes as he mumbled the cheesy line to himself in embarrassment and regret. The squish of his nose grabbed the attention of one of his colleagues, a colleague in which who had not a damn issue walking in and taking a seat across the glass desk, intrigue apparent in the young mans face.

He had cute gold, round specs that fell to the bridge of his nose, and name tag that read ‘Jaehyung’ but the hyung park seemed to be half scratched out and partly marked over in black sharpie. Perhaps he was tall, [pale] and handsome, sporting a casual black suit and his hair pushed away from his eyes (barley) but still tossed messily over his forehead.

Taking a seat on the across from a very bothered Wonpil, he leaned back in his seat and took his first poke at the bookstore owner. “Is it about that book pride girl?”

“Its pride and books.”

Jae put his hands up in defeat but urged the boy to go on and so he did. He updated Jae, on the recent events of the last few months to bring him up to speed on the horrid poem Wonpil was debating to send, and of course Jae was a man of slightly sugar coated, brutal honesty so Wonpil awaited the torment and embarrassment of the blonde boys honesty.

“I think its sweet. Its kind of awkward but its raw and real, and from the sounds of this girl I think she would enjoy the fast paced writing. It means more knowing that it was written within a few minutes,” Such sweet words coming out of his mouth in a very matter of fact like tone, sure to not show that he was actually impressed with Sir Wonpil. “Just send it.”

“Jae, I can’t jus-” Gears were always turning in the tall and lanky boys mind, his mindset being one that didn’t feel the need to hold onto so many questions and obstacles made by none other than himself. The thing with these two is that their differences help one another in the areas they were lacking; for example Jae wasn’t the best and showing Wonpil just how much he appreciated his friendship while Wonpil on the other hand has an alarm set to mark down their friendaiversary. And then there was Wonpil who was lacking in the live a little gene, always second guessing his every moves when sometimes all you have to do is just kinda go for it, while Jae on the other hand said it how it was and meant it just the way he said it, and there had been many instances in which Jae just pulled the trigger for Wonpil: this was one of those cases.

Before the sentence of protest could leave the bookstore owners mouth, Jae without any expression hit the ‘send’ button without even a second of regret. “Oh, look at that. Sent.” There was no going back, and Wonpil would never even dream about being angry over Jae’s actions because he knew the intentions were always meant to be what was best.

“Jae, why did you- What if she, what if she thinks I love her? What if she hates it?” So many questions flooding the boys mind, some in which he couldn’t even finish and the rest seemed to flow out of his mouth like word vomit. Of course Jae didn’t flinch, no sense of remorse for his bold actions; knowing damn well poor little Wonpil needed a little push sometimes. “Okay? And what if she does? Tell me what would be the issue, Wonpil? You do dont you? Love her I mean.”

The silence filled the office room for a moment too long, the tall boy in the black suit didn’t bother to push the question further because he knew it was a big one. Knew that Jae was stating a truth faster before Wonpil, even managed to admit it to himself; because there was a reason Wonpil agreed to not sharing any personal information with the mysterious prideandbooks.

It was to try and keep the feelings from turning into the dreaded ‘L’ word, to keep it almost impossible from having things get to the point of feeling a feeling so strong it would only hurt in the end because what were the odds in actually living near each other. It was simply for the best. Though here he was feeling all the ways he knew he shouldn’t.

“What if she doesn’t feel the same way?” Voice barley above a whisper, no eye contact and the insecurity and fear coated the boys words so much the question was soaked.

Jae’s rough exterior faded away (just barley) as he put his hand on his dear friends shoulder and spoke five words before exiting.

“But what if she does?”

Just across the street and around the corner, you sat slightly frazzled in your rolling chair, thinking of a new promotions for your business. There was nothing you wanted to do more than talk to him, to ask him about his day and to have his ‘name’ light up your screen. The subtle ring becoming the least annoying thing in the world so long as it was him being the cause to begin with. It had been a few weeks of minimal replies but the last couple of days had been radio silent. While all the pieces of your beautiful and brilliant ideas were falling into place you just couldn’t help the small ting in your heart knowing he wouldn’t email you, no matter how much you wanted him too. You knew he was just respecting your space and respecting the fact you were an owner of a visit, and God forbid you send the first message.

You and your assistant had ideas sprawled out on notebooks littered around the once clean office, boxes strewn across the creamy colored carpet in all attempts to “re-brand” as a home of fantasy. A home of books and all the adventures that lie inside them.

The office was a mess to say the least, you were sitting on the floor going through every journal that presented itself all the while your handsome assistant searched the entire internet on your computer for any more inspiration than that of what had already shown itself. Your hair was in an effortless bun, pieces out and about, blazer off and classy white cami sleeve falling elegantly off your shoulder, you looked a damn mess but it was a mess that had a sort of beauty to it. Halfway through journal 3, bullet number 62 you were pulled out of the work daze by a very familiar ding. Your head snapped in the direction it came from and you were met with your assistants eyes.

“Boss lady, you got a email from a….greatexpiltations.” He wasn’t dumb, it was easy enough for him to see the slight pick up in your breathing, the small smile your lips were trying so hard to hide and the way your eyes were open so wide he was shocked they didn’t fall right out of your skull. You tried your best to get up off the floor and walk to your computer in the most nonchalant and unbothered way you possibly could but of course that translated to tripping over your sensible heels and the champagne colored rug you all to play it off with sliding a piece of hair behind your ear and clearing your throat. Sungjin smiled to himself refraining from saying anything because he knew he was supposed to pretend he didn’t see what just happened.

“I will run to the coffee shop and pick us up something…” Dismissing himself he patted you on the back and exited the office giving you a quick wiggle of the eyebrows in goodbye. But it was bold of him to assume you even were paying attention to anything other than the words sir greatexpiltations had spilled onto your screen.

Had your eyes deceived you? Was this a confession of mutual feelings or was this simply just a new poem that happened to write. Your eyes reread the same words over and over again as if the more you read it the more sense it would make; but still nothing made sense. What on earth were you supposed to say to that? How could you even begin to write a reply that would even remotely explain what your heart was doing?

There was no doubt in your mind that this poem was written about you, the talk of not knowing your name, the mention of you and the eye rolling he knows you do because you have only mentioned it a thousand times. Even still your mind stuck a fork in your calming socket and electrocuted any last bit of sanity you had, pretty soon the inside of your brain was just little yous running around in utter chaos, screaming different questions and attempting to find the proper outcome of all of these questions you had for yourself.

Was it time to break the unofficial vow the two of you had made months ago? Time to put to rest the rule of not sharing any personal information because the moment Jae hit send, or even the very moment Wonpil even thought to write the poem to begin with: the foundation of everything the two of you knew had been tampered with… so what would be the harm in pushing it a little further.

Months ago this stranger was just competition in bidding wars, but you had fallen in love with his voice, his replies and the way he always thought you were the cutest thing in the world and you never knew if he was just saying it to say it or if he was being genuine about it.

Greatexpiltations,

Wow…. I’d normally feel foolish to think such a beautiful and intimate poem would certainly not be about me but all signs point to the opposite. It was beautiful.

You don’t have to try and find it any longer….

- Y/n

Without even a second thought, a chance to think about your decision for long enough to change your mind.. you hit send. Aggressively you might add, hitting enter with such force you were sure everybody outside of your office heard the click of the laptops key.

The red hand of the clock atop your window ticked a few times before the regret settled in. A few red handed ticks before the little screaming yous inside began jumping off of imaginary buildings or some sat knees up to their chests screaming bloody murder. “What did I do?! Oh God, what did I do!?” Your whispers were far to aggressive to actually be whispers but were far too quite to be normal speak. There was no unsending what you had just sent so the only thing you can do is, stare at the screen until a new message pops up; and what better way to sit and suffer then to hear the ticking of the clock above you, mocking you for the impulsive thing you had just done.

By the time Sungjin got back, you were face down on the white, leather sofa in the corner of your office. Moaning and groaning into the cushion hoping and praying that when you sat up none of what just happened would have happened. You sensed Sungjin’s presence in the room but your desperation deemed more important to pay attention too.

Sungjin took one look at your state and looked to the still opened and still unlocked, laptop screen and simply put two and two together. He would have taken it upon himself to read and update himself on the current room news but he knew he rather not cross any boundaries. Instead he set the coffee on your desk and exited the room without any further judgment, while little did the two of them know… just across the street and around the corner, sat Kim Wonpil.

Waiting for the response from a mystery.

Never in his whole life had twenty minutes felt so excruciatingly long, wondering if you had seen the email, read the email or if you were even going to respond; and if so, how? How do you respond to desperation towards something that was kept a secret for months and months because who knows what heartbreak lies ahead if you have all the pieces of the puzzle. The two of you had kept so many of the corner and middle pieces from the puzzle, yet still they found their way into the mix after you had tried so hard to keep them away.

So he sat and hummed to himself, leg shaking and nail biting all in an anxious fit of curiosity. Every shake his leg dig was another tick of the clock above him, and just as the world felt like it swallowed the last bit of hope he ever dreamed of having…

his computer, dinged.

He shot up faster than bread in a toaster and with a shivering click and half a mind he read your response.

“y/n…” He repeated your name not giving a second thought about it until he began a roller coaster of emotions.

Awe. He basked in the glory of your name, letting it roll off his tongue like it was his name to say; singing it to see if it was possible for your name to be even more beautiful than it already was and then he said your name followed by his own seeing if the sound of your names fit as perfectly as he imagined them to sound.

Skeptical. He turned to the framed newsletter he had sitting on his desk, an article written two years prior and a photo taken with you and him meeting with the President for the top two most successful bookstores in the country. Your name slowly slipped from his tongue as he realized you had the same name as his mystery woman had just said her name to be.

Understanding. Soon some pieces began fitting together, slowly allowing his theory to be true, the way you were trying to beat your rival, or the way you said you owned a chain of bookstores.

Denial. No, it simply couldn’t be. Coincidence is the mastermind behind this insane bit of information just thrown his way. No way in all hell was his mystery love the woman across the street and down the corner, no way could it be possible for prideandbooks to be his number one competition, the woman he sits with for a friendly dinner once every month. Hanging right under his nose, sitting at the top floor only a mere five minutes away, it just didn’t seem possible.

Acceptance. It made sense, the past few weeks being so close to radio silence all at the same time that Pride In The Books were in the midst of a creative break, sitting to compile new ideas to flourish the chain. It made sense that he never got a reply on the nights of yalls monthly dinner because you were sitting directly in front of him. Why you glanced at your phone every so often assumingly waiting for his reply but of course he was out with you so there was no notification.

It was you.

So what was he to do now? Clearly he wasn’t even a possibility of being greatexpiltations in your eyes but yet here he was, standing at a crossroads of telling you it was him or simply not giving you his name until he came up with a plan.

“Y/n…..” Your name slipped from his lips in a manner that wasn’t like how he usually said it. Each syllable left a sweet taste in his mouth, saying it with curiosity rather than something less than platonic, saying it with the same feeling he had for the mysterious prideandbooks. Finding out it was his rival down the block didn’t change anything, you were still the same person he spoke to daily, still the same dork that once told a customer to 'enjoy’ after selling him a 80s playboy magazine. It was the same person he showed his first original song too, and it was still the same person he fell in love with without meeting…only as it turned out, he had met before.

Jae walked in as Sir Wonpil was pacing around his office trying to figure what the next step would be in this giant jumble of events. “You’re pacing… She didn’t give her name did she?”

Still staring at the scuffs of his black shoes and walking from one side of the office to the other he chuckled in amazement. “She gave me her name.”

“oka-” puzzlement very apparent in his voice, not following Wonpil’s tone.

“Its Y/n.”

You hit refresh, and then ten minutes went by and you hit refresh again.

And again. And again. And every time there was nothing.

It must have been an hour and it was just radio silence, nothing making any sense and you didn’t even try to make it make sense. One minute he is confessing his love and asking your name and then the next he is not responding to you giving him exactly what it was he wanted.

The sun was setting, the sky turning orange and pink casting a beautiful glow across the reflective buildings all around before the dark would swallow it for the evening. Empty coffee cups and pastry bags filled your side trashcan, a physical proof of brainstorming for the shops and still it felt like Kim Wonpil was going to top it.

Sungjin’s voice through the speaker broke you out of your caffeinated daze. “uh, Kim Wonpil is here to see you?” Of course it was supposed to be a factual statement but there was a very apparent confusion laced in Sungjin’s words and you honestly couldn’t blame him.

“Send him in?” Sungjin chuckled softly at the mutual confusion and sent Wonpil up to your floor. Glass windows from floor to ceiling exposing his frame before he got to your door, black shoes and a matching black coat with a white button up made him look proper and sweet. All in which he was of course but his looks didn’t answer the very obvious question. What was he doing in your office building? Asking for you and now standing in front of your desk with nervous eyes and pink cheeks?

He held a glittery black gift bag with red and green tissue paper poking out of the top, it being spring and not your birthday; you couldn’t help but tilt your head in question.

“Its all I could find around my office but, um, this is for you.” His voice was sweeter than usual, not so serious but something more… Genuine? He seemed real standing in front of you right now, sliding a poorly put together gift bag with total nervousness in his voice. He urged you to open it without really any questions when that is all you had really, but even still you pulled the crushed Christmas tissue and pulled out, a book.

But not just any book.

“Tamerlane and Other Poems?” Your voice was barley above a whisper, trying to make sense of how your rival had the book someone had already purchased. A book the boy you fell in love with purchased. “How did you-” you couldn’t fully answer your own questions until you said his name slowly. “Kim Wonpil, how did- wait.” Something about his name rang a bell that you had never hears before, so you said it again. “Wonpil…pil.”

You didn’t need to say the name you knew him by because as the facts began to set in he confirmed what you were wondering with a firm nod and pleading eyes. His eyes were soft, beautiful and sweet but laced in fear, fear that you would let who he ended up being keep you from admitting the very apparent feelings you had.

“Its you.”

“Its me.”

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