♠: Your muse adjusting their jewelry/neck tie/ etc.
Scattered sheets and discarded clothes. Taehyun can’t think, because his thoughts continue straying from a shirt hanging limp from the back of a chair, to stacks of CD’s teetering on the verge of collapse pushed into a corner, to a ring of keys on the way between the door and the bed. Fingers curled into his hair, he groans inwardly, wondering just why he had agreed to Seungyoon spending a few weeks at his place. It’s at the other’s insistence, as is a lot of things; some inane ramblings of how no one should spend the summer in solitude. The words seemed to ring true over the clink of bottles of butterbeer; not so much with all of Seungyoon’s clutter taking up what should be an empty apartment.
Seungyoon, of course, is then to blame for Taehyun standing still in front of the mirror with a tie in hand, unable to fix it on properly. He would hardly bother if it weren’t for the exhibit they were to attend; an invitation forwarded from his father’s address to his own, some lost soul thinking his paternal figure still relevant to the scene. Glimpses of the paintings to be showcased had caught his attention (and Seungyoon thought it’d be a good idea).
His thoughts stray yet again and Taehyun reels them in on a leash as he, for the fifteenth time, messes up the knot of his tie and makes it into some fancy knot. For a minute he considers wearing it that way, resembling a cloth pendant dangling from his neck, turning side to side to admire a black and white reflection and smoothing dark, sleek strands back into place. The next thing he knows, his reflection is joined by Seungyoon’s and there are arms reaching over his shoulder, a chin tucked onto the top of crisp white fabric. “I hope this isn’t your artistic statement of the night,” he says.
Taehyun grimaces, albeit brief. “I can’t get it right.”
"Well then," Seungyoon catches his eye in the mirror and smiles. "Allow me." His fingers tug the thin strip of fabric loose and Taehyun is reminded of the dexterity of fingers spent hours picking at metal strings, so lost in watching how deftly they arrange the tie into what its meant to be that he doesn’t realize how close they are until Seungyoon’s voice is a mere whisper against his ear. "How about now?"
Forcing his gaze up along the length of the mirror, he catches Seungyoon’s eyes and lets his lips curve into a faint smile. “Could be better,” he says, turning around so they’re no longer communicating through glass reflections. They really are standing too close together for comfort, so close that Taehyun could count each individual lash framing Seungyoon’s eyes, but personal space is a concept he’s already relinquished long ago when it comes to the boy before him. “But it’ll do. Thanks.”
