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4SEASON | 4COLOR

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[Special] HAPPY BYULSDAY

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get well soon byul

[ahnjeon]

"Can I tempt you?"

“Of course not.” The pitch in her tone was liberally coated with discontent, sloe-eyed gaze finding his after tactically roaming the room with some leisure. In a lax moment where between seconds she let her mind wander, she finds that although she still isn’t entirely fond of the close cropped cut, it was still somehow undeniably Kibum, inward shrug accompanying the assessment. How charming.With the slightest twitch at lips budding like cognac, she recalls various key moments –(see the irony in that?)– in which she would so graciously be reminded to stop playing so hard to get. Eyes dragged heavily over the proffered drink, condensation dewing at its glass even as it lazed under the hand of a pink palmed Kibummie, and with the most gratuitous of sighs, Hyejin relented, soft but hard. “Almost always. What is it?”

[ahnjeon]

⇢ previously with choi minho

An incessant urge to murmur something snippy in response to the frumpy froggy tickled at Hyejin’s tongue, boogeying energetically along the pink piper at the jumbled party of cocky-words-that-may-ruin-your-game. Having already lost a win in their last round of pool, her teasing took a turn for the mildly competitive regardless, all future name calling aside; “So what happens when you lose this game? Do I get something special?” After successfully delivering this remark, dark brows furrow heavily as she lines up with the cue ball, taking a tentative poke with her stick before prodding the ball towards those in waiting, the humblest of undertones dripping into her voice as she cast a pitiful simper in Minho’s direction. “When I win, how about you treat me to something nice, like lunch? I would just love to see Minho-yah in the early afternoon.”

[longbong]

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Daniel Caesar - Japanese Denim

[ahnjeon]

⇢ previously with jeon jungkook

The swiftest bite at her lip stifles the borderline deviant cackle that would have pierced the air with her giddiness; it’s only once in a blue moon when she’s being addressed as someone’s noona, and it’s quite possible she’s basking in the glory of finally being referred to as an elder, even if just by two measly years. “Oh no, I’m a much bigger fan of you. Night and day, Décalcomanie is playing in the halls, it’s our anthem. All my hyungs adore MAMAMOO. Especially you, Ahn Hyejin-ssi.”

She’s offering up an indulgent smile, thoroughly considering the possibility of providing him with an answer before promptly swiping left, the notion discarded like a crumpled leaflet left to wilt on the tile. Poking piously at the little sticker that was only becoming so significant because it held one Jeon Jungkook’s identity in the balance, she graciously offers, “A little prodding around and you can find just about anything lying about. Would you have ever guessed?”

[ahnjeon]

"Honey, just let me spend my money... "

Dark eyes pitch upwards, rouged lips twitch downwards, and the hand daintily gripping his is giving a sharp tug, preferably in a direction of her choosing; hanging like thick webbing in the air was the heavy smell of something cooking, maybe it’s Hyejin’s patience steadily dwindling in the still night’s atmosphere —( Kibum’s persistence is the flame over which it is burnt, the oil is spitting back from the pan ) — or just some yet to be known savory bit, beef and bokkeum.Contrary to the intimacy that her grip on his hand would have foretold, her mien  was that of vexation, as if she’d personally been antagonized by the gesture her companion was putting forth.Various increasingly boastful propaganda ( best take-away food in the country here, purest natural produce available there, downright shameful advertisement in its most honest forms ) pressed in from both sides along with the people. As if in search of permanent sustenance, her eyes flit from between the stands, up to par with the empty pit in her stomach, and then they wander back to him again, heavy lidded and chagrined by the lack of quality meals on display anywhere. “That line’s getting old, try something else. Using endearments alone won’t make me fall for you, Kibum.”

[mamawoo-d]

BeagleMoo 🐶 🐶 🐶 🐶

[ahnjeon]

⇢ previously with kim kibum

If this were melodrama, the scene would have been crisp with the colours their interaction splattered everywhere it occurred, spasmodic and uncertain and domesticated. This would most definitely be silent cinema, the incredulity in their glances enough to send the crowd into bouts of weary recognition; like always, this was Kibum and Hyejin like always. This must be her subconscious desire, the utter inevitability of not-quite-so-subtle confrontation with her senior. It’s what curls her lips into a smile when he shoots his tart reply, genuine in a bitterly interested way. “What’s with this then, humouring the child?” An indignant silence gallops by in futile seconds, and she’s branding the cool air with a dulcet, seemingly harmless addition. “You can’t be my oppa when you’re so mean like this, you know. You know?”

[ahnjeon]

⇢ previously with  miyake amory

Her lips are pulling marginally rueful at the touch, this sardonic humour encountering her visage and she replies after allowing a pause, wet slap of her heel skirting the edges of a puddle, the dreary air was pressing in. “I must be a cold bitch, toting you along in the pursuit of happiness.” Hyejin’s melancholy was petty, spiteful in the turn of events that hadn’t allowed her to bite back as hard, a worrying at her lip bleeding her agitation. Taking care to avoid the dark mess of rain water and debris that clung dutifully to the walk, she dares to venture closer once more, hands tucking themselves into her pockets. His response to her incessant prying merely pulls a sharper edge from her tongue to cut into her words, the articulation careful but brittle, “What a mood, Amory. Aren’t you too young for frown lines?”

[mollny-deactivated20200702]

day 7, shy

[ahnjeon]

tiddies

[ahnjeon]

"This party's pretty boring. I don't think it's for me."

There was a decathlon, javelin lancing through her head type of pain, but the headache was always in coexistence with the place. Reluctantly she loops an arm around his, the ball and chain to his disquiet, coupled discomfit. Pulled close, because whoever was bumping the tragic remix of some up and coming trap artist was obviously not an advocate for small talk and more motion, more noise, must make more sense. "You’re not leaving. We came here to have fun. Together."Isn't that what you wanted? Unspoken but poignant and ready on her tongue. Coaxing him further into the complex, she remains attached, lips upturned into this marginally pleasant smile, it's so hot with all these people here."Look, somebody brought barbecue. Do you like it spicy?"

[keybums]

Is 50 Cent getting royalties for this?

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