he’s slightly taken aback by him simply dismissing his words. he mustered a lot of courage to say that much since he was aware they might come off demeaning. but he guesses he just may already have embraced his tendencies of being an asshole, to which he doesn’t protest. he thinks this pairing of realization and acceptance was beneficial for the male who’s executed plenty of inconveniences for jaebin.
the gagging had him scratching the back of his head and the favor that seemed a little suspicious. just a little. why would he ask jaebin of all people? he’s not the smartest nor was he a studious kind. “me…?” he points to himself before looking around his surroundings, checking to see if there was anyone else ten could be talking to. clearly no one else was there. he knew before he even looked. he was just taken aback and slightly unwilling. “uh… yeah, sure. i guess. what do i need to do exactly…?”
yes, you idiot, who else is in the damn hallway? he doesn’t say any of this now that chaebin’s confirmed his compliance. good....
“alright. don’t take this out of context, but follow me to my room.” he doesn’t wait for an ‘okay’, he just goes. left arm slung indefinitely by his front, chest puffed like a war hero marching into battle. when they reach the dorm, it was spotless. which was definitely out of character for a guy like ten. he doesn’t address that at all. however, in the middle of the room sits a lone coffee table, a laptop, and a manuscript. this is the task...
“alright, for the next hour, i just need you to type everything i say into this word document. don’t mess this up, okay. i’m gonna submit this for publishing!” the sparkle in his eyes matched that of a determined child pursuing his life long dream of becoming a power ranger on ice! straightening his stack of papers, all of which consisted nasty scrawls that reflected the boy’s shitty ass hand writing. he began to read aloud, not providing context in regards to this mystery story. ten clears all the gunk in his throat with a gruff ‘AHEGGHHMMM’ and went right to reading.
and then ten musters the most effeminate voice that would shatter anything good pure and wholesome from this scene.
“a whimper ever so fragile drips over her lips as she calls out to the repair man. ‘h-hyuntae-sii...i’m so clumsy i broke the hinges of my door.. what should i do?’”
then like an automated switch, his voice drops deeper than the atlantic ocean.
“the repair man scoffs, lips stretched in a spicy...smirk. ’just leave it to me, miss marceline. first, i’ll take care of this door, then... i’ll take care of you.”