ᴬᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍᵘⁱᵗᵃʳⁱˢᵗ 🎶
Evelyn ⟡ ݁₊ . 16 ⊹ ࣪ ˖ Cortis ult and James bias ‧₊˚♪ 𝄞₊˚⊹ she/her ᯓᡣ𐭩 other groups I stan: txt, bnd, illit, le ssera, enhypen ♬⋆.˚ starting to write for Cortis (works of fiction ! ✦)
sʏɴᴘᴏsɪs ꨄ -ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈ TEASER Seasons come and go; people tend to change, and according to Keonho's guy-code handbook? So do feelings. Letters slipped through lockers with pursed lipstick kisses...blegh!- All of it was old school for him, and that's said in the past tense of course— since cupid chose to shoot an arrow to his heart with perfect precision on an anything-but-romantic Wednesday. You could call him a contemporary romanticist to butter up the truth that he's become a pilgrim for love. There's just one teeny problem though. No one warned him that a budding crush came packaged as a buy one get one deal, and no one warned him that his heart could beat a little harder for the other 💚 !
Hanging off basketball hoops and tying each other's shoelaces to poles— that's what teenagers are supposed to be doing when they're not glued to playing rage-inducing games on their dad's computers. Not wandering off in an empty car park eating each other's faces off behind some innocent mother of two's 2020 Honda Civic, or texting half-assed 'Luv u's with a heart emoji if they're being generous. Real teenagers. People with their full brains intact still and aren't falling into this pivotal 'date and shrug off your friends' simulation like real human beings. At least that's what Keonho thinks, or ahem, what he considers fact and not up for discussion.
So instead he spends his time sulking in the neighbourhood playground, idly rocking on his swing with a grape-flavoured lollipop in his mouth or a strip of foil-covered gum; no in between. Sulking and pouring out his frustration on an empty playground in the later hours of pitch-black night doesn't quite align with the cool and laidback image he's been adamant on keeping since he was 8 though. So who else could sit and listen to his rambles about love that aren't quite really about love? Easy. Juhoon duh.
Why, you may ask? Well, it hurts his pride to admit that it's because Juhoon could virtually hum in approval to anything that comes out of his mouth like his words are the gospel. He prefers saying that Juhoon's a 'good listener' though, because that part's always been true.
"Oh— And Seonghyeon can't join us at the internet cafe tomorrow he's got—" A groan rumbles in his throat in exaggerated agony in response to the familiar drag of vowels in their mutual friend's name. Keonho sets off another push to the gravel with the grinding heel of his foot to swing just a little higher.
"What's all this hype around girlfriends anyway? Even the beanstalk's ditching us to make crappy love songs in his room." The wind's particularly cold today. It irks him further, a catalyst to his botherance, like a chilling taunt from the clouds above to point fingers on how his friend group's dynamic gives off divorced lovers rather than teens having fun.
Metal chains clink and clang as Juhoon kicks himself off and onto the gravel feet-first for once, his fingers digging under the fold of his beanie after it slipped down to unveil his eyes. "If you read the group chat then you would've seen that Seonghyeon's going to his sister's school performance tonight."
"Oh yeah? Then what about Marti— W-woah man watch out!" His feet make quick work of shuffling against the gravel even with his laces undone to prevent a straight uppercut to his friend's chin with the cap of his shoe. Adrenaline-rushed breaths are huffed into a time frame of three seconds, a reaction that could pass off as poorly executed acting if you compared the composure of the two side-by-side. "Don't stand in front of the swings Juhoon, that's like asking for a fucking crushed jaw."
"Martin doesn't have a girlfriend. Tyler's the singer he admires like crazy, not this Tyla girl you're thinking of."
There are only two things that could make Keonho question his train of thought: A) Having the evidence presented right to him and B) Seeing Juhoon deadpan him in deafening silence. And right now he's struck an unfortunate gold for both of them with the photo of the singer popping right up on a blinding light-mode screen as the very top result he was too ignorant to check.
"T-the point stands alright? Are you heading back already?" Wide eyes try to plead for an extra five minutes past their curfew but to limited effect as his friend sighs and steps back away from the swingset.
"It's getting late now, I wanna shower earlier tonight." Juhoon's arms stretch up into a yawn before tucking themselves into the pockets of his puffer coat paired with a set of pajama pants that are slowly turning into victims of heel bite. "You know, a girl in my politics class asked for your number the other day."
"What?!!" If jumping off the swing awkwardly and stubbing your toe against the gravel flooring seemed embarrassing then to Keonho it's twenty times that. He'd practically launched himself into the air with his mouth slack open and hands reaching out to shake his friend by the shoulders with a lethal grip that could shatter bone if he tried.
The male nods, eyes blinking without much thought since he predicted the reaction would turn as such to begin with. His palms press flat against Keonho's shoulders as he finds room to speak without being at risk of permanent tissue damage.
"I can't remember what s—"
"You gave her my number right? Did you give her it? I could g-give her it in person.." Keonho doesn't believe in childish crushes which are opportunities to play 'house' at grown ages under the pretense of love. Models in magazines, confessions from classmates, and even kisses planted on his cheek from kindergarten which he still grimaces at; none of them have ever caused his heart to flutter like this. It pounds against his ribcage, pulsing irregularly in no set pattern but pure and vulnerable excitement which spreads along his cheeks in the form of a rosy blush.
"You can't blame me for not giving it— aren't you always talking about how much you hate dating?"
sʏɴᴘᴏsɪs ꨄ -ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈ TEASER Seasons come and go; people tend to change, and according to Keonho's guy-code handbook? So do feelings. Letters slipped through lockers with pursed lipstick kisses...blegh!- All of it was old school for him, and that's said in the past tense of course— since cupid chose to shoot an arrow to his heart with perfect precision on an anything-but-romantic Wednesday. You could call him a contemporary romanticist to butter up the truth that he's become a pilgrim for love. There's just one teeny problem though. No one warned him that a budding crush came packaged as a buy one get one deal, and no one warned him that his heart could beat a little harder for the other 💚 !
Hanging off basketball hoops and tying each other's shoelaces to poles— that's what teenagers are supposed to be doing when they're not glued to playing rage-inducing games on their dad's computers. Not wandering off in an empty car park eating each other's faces off behind some innocent mother of two's 2020 Honda Civic, or texting half-assed 'Luv u's with a heart emoji if they're being generous. Real teenagers. People with their full brains intact still and aren't falling into this pivotal 'date and shrug off your friends' simulation like real human beings. At least that's what Keonho thinks, or ahem, what he considers fact and not up for discussion.
So instead he spends his time sulking in the neighbourhood playground, idly rocking on his swing with a grape-flavoured lollipop in his mouth or a strip of foil-covered gum; no in between. Sulking and pouring out his frustration on an empty playground in the later hours of pitch-black night doesn't quite align with the cool and laidback image he's been adamant on keeping since he was 8 though. So who else could sit and listen to his rambles about love that aren't quite really about love? Easy. Juhoon duh.
Why, you may ask? Well, it hurts his pride to admit that it's because Juhoon could virtually hum in approval to anything that comes out of his mouth like his words are the gospel. He prefers saying that Juhoon's a 'good listener' though, because that part's always been true.
"Oh— And Seonghyeon can't join us at the internet cafe tomorrow he's got—" A groan rumbles in his throat in exaggerated agony in response to the familiar drag of vowels in their mutual friend's name. Keonho sets off another push to the gravel with the grinding heel of his foot to swing just a little higher.
"What's all this hype around girlfriends anyway? Even the beanstalk's ditching us to make crappy love songs in his room." The wind's particularly cold today. It irks him further, a catalyst to his botherance, like a chilling taunt from the clouds above to point fingers on how his friend group's dynamic gives off divorced lovers rather than teens having fun.
Metal chains clink and clang as Juhoon kicks himself off and onto the gravel feet-first for once, his fingers digging under the fold of his beanie after it slipped down to unveil his eyes. "If you read the group chat then you would've seen that Seonghyeon's going to his sister's school performance tonight."
"Oh yeah? Then what about Marti— W-woah man watch out!" His feet make quick work of shuffling against the gravel even with his laces undone to prevent a straight uppercut to his friend's chin with the cap of his shoe. Adrenaline-rushed breaths are huffed into a time frame of three seconds, a reaction that could pass off as poorly executed acting if you compared the composure of the two side-by-side. "Don't stand in front of the swings Juhoon, that's like asking for a fucking crushed jaw."
"Martin doesn't have a girlfriend. Tyler's the singer he admires like crazy, not this Tyla girl you're thinking of."
There are only two things that could make Keonho question his train of thought: A) Having the evidence presented right to him and B) Seeing Juhoon deadpan him in deafening silence. And right now he's struck an unfortunate gold for both of them with the photo of the singer popping right up on a blinding light-mode screen as the very top result he was too ignorant to check.
"T-the point stands alright? Are you heading back already?" Wide eyes try to plead for an extra five minutes past their curfew but to limited effect as his friend sighs and steps back away from the swingset.
"It's getting late now, I wanna shower earlier tonight." Juhoon's arms stretch up into a yawn before tucking themselves into the pockets of his puffer coat paired with a set of pajama pants that are slowly turning into victims of heel bite. "You know, a girl in my politics class asked for your number the other day."
"What?!!" If jumping off the swing awkwardly and stubbing your toe against the gravel flooring seemed embarrassing then to Keonho it's twenty times that. He'd practically launched himself into the air with his mouth slack open and hands reaching out to shake his friend by the shoulders with a lethal grip that could shatter bone if he tried.
The male nods, eyes blinking without much thought since he predicted the reaction would turn as such to begin with. His palms press flat against Keonho's shoulders as he finds room to speak without being at risk of permanent tissue damage.
"I can't remember what s—"
"You gave her my number right? Did you give her it? I could g-give her it in person.." Keonho doesn't believe in childish crushes which are opportunities to play 'house' at grown ages under the pretense of love. Models in magazines, confessions from classmates, and even kisses planted on his cheek from kindergarten which he still grimaces at; none of them have ever caused his heart to flutter like this. It pounds against his ribcage, pulsing irregularly in no set pattern but pure and vulnerable excitement which spreads along his cheeks in the form of a rosy blush.
"You can't blame me for not giving it— aren't you always talking about how much you hate dating?"
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