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Yeosang looks up from his essay as his owl lands in front of him. The flapping seems much louder in the otherwise empty free-use hall. In a mess of wind-blown, dark brown feathers, Maehwa flicks her wings and hoots softly, alerting him to the mail she carries. His heart speeds up minutely and a small grin lights up his face when he realizes the letter clutched in her claws is a tell-tale lavender color. In exchange for the letter, he gives her a treat he keeps in a small pouch in his pocket. She lingers as he breaks the seal, hopping until she’s close to his elbow and immediately getting to work preening her ruffled plumage.
Neat but utilitarian handwriting nearly fills the entire page. Small, badly drawn doodles smatter the edges. He feels lighter seeing such a familiar sight. At least he’s definitely more awake now. He’d feel shy saying it out loud, but he’s always anticipated these letters more than anything else, especially over the last few years.
Before he can even read the first line, however, someone crashes into the seat next to him on the bench.
For some reason he can’t explain, Yeosang immediately folds the letter back up as he gets over the initial startle, giving his full attention to who turns out to be Wooyoung. His best friend slumps dramatically over the tabletop.
“I’m about ready to drop out, C.A.K.E.s be damned. I can get a job without them. I’m sure there’s plenty of jobs that care more about lived experience! Learning on the job! Right?” Wooyoung whinges, voice muffled by the wood and his own jeogori.
Yeosang smiles and puts the letter down before petting Maehwa who preens under the touch and tries to shove her head up his sleeve.
“Sure. You’d make a wonderful spelled-foodstuff tester.” Twisting his neck to look up at him, Wooyoung pulls a face that only makes Yeosang smile wider. “Or I guess you could be some kind of assistant in the Magical Assembly.”
Wooyoung’s face twists up more. Yeosang chuckles and his friend deflates with a heaving sigh.
“C.A.K.E.s it is. Why do they have to be cumulative all the way back from first year?”
Shaking his head, Yeosang moves to tuck the letter away into his bag. Unfortunately, Wooyoung notices and zeroes in on it.
“Ooh, how’s your long-distance beau?”
Heat rushes to his face and he hurries to put the letter away as Wooyoung jerks to try and take it. Wandlessly but inconspicuously, he zaps Wooyoung’s hand with a very mild stinging hex. Wooyoung yelps and pulls away with a pout. The letter goes safely between Yeosang’s books.
“We’re not dating, Wooyoung.”
“Sure, so you say.” Wooyoung wiggles his eyebrow. “You’ve been writing each other since second year, it’s going to happen eventually. As if you don’t both already swoon over each other. It literally drips from the pages.”
Yeosang can feel his blush deepen and pouts at Wooyoung’s digging. “How can I be dating someone I’ve never met?”
“Well, you could always just meet him after graduation, then! It’s only a few months away now. You could get a portkey set and prance around England and Wales all romantic-like. I can see it now: you and your proper nobleman, strolling down the Thames and spouting heartfelt poetry under the moonlight. Like a scene from a play.”
He pushes Wooyoung just enough to make a point though his continued fluster feels like a betrayal. “I’m fine just being like this. You’re just overly romantic. And for the last time, just because he’s British doesn’t mean he’s a nobleman.”
“I’m just romantic enough! And thank Magic I am or else you would be doomed.” Yeosang shakes his head and turns back to his work. However, one half of his reference book is promptly blocked by his best friend’s head. “Seriously, though, lots of mundanes nowadays meet people they’ve met over the internet after knowing them for a while. Pen pals aren’t much different, I think. You should give it a shot.”
His lip finds its way between his teeth. He does remember hearing something about that from his mundane-raised friends. Something about in-line communities, or was it social netting?
The point stands, though, he supposes. Surely it isn’t unheard of for magicals? Hongjoong is mundane-raised, too, so it probably wouldn’t seem strange or overly-forward to him. And Yeosang can admit to at least himself that he really does like Hongjoong. Enough to daydream about sitting together outside somewhere while they read, dancing on random nights in a cozy living room, sharing words over a meal at the end of every day, feeling each other’s warmth under the sheets of a single bed.
Yes, Yeosang would really like to meet Hongjoong, even if those daydreams stay as dreams.
“Alright, I’ll ask to visit in the summer.”
“There you go!” Wooyoung beams up at him, eyes obviously proud. “It’ll be just great, I know it. And you’ll tell me all about it.”
It makes a blush rise on Yeosang’s face once more, so he shoves Wooyoung off his book with a badly-concealed grateful smile. Of course, Wooyoung isn’t bothered in the slightest and starts nitpicking what Yeosang should say, constantly distracted by some tangent or other. Almost none of his suggestions will be heeded. Yet, it feels comfortable and comforting nonetheless.
He’ll write the request in the response to the letter he just got, but only once he finds time alone in their dormitory where a certain nosy wix can’t try to commandeer his response.