NEVER HAD HE expected for the woman to react quite so strongly to his false flirtations. He hadn’t wanted her to return them or to even acknowledge them, but to have them tossed away was rather offensive. As a self-recognized handsome, smooth talking man, Moonsik was used to women (and men) taking his casual efforts and ballooning them into something much bigger. So the obvious disregard caused brows to furl, a renewed surge of wanting the irking stranger to stay now coursing through him. Such a fickle man, laying himself on the line for attention.
Finally, he gave her what she wanted, a gleaming grin curling upon his lips. It didn’t take much time for him to switch in between his unmasked annoyance to showing something more cordial and inviting. He was a phantom, manipulating darkness to present only what he seemed necessary and nothing else. Almost, he reached out to clutch her wrist, but he held back, knowing it would frighten the girl further. Putting in work wasn’t like him, always allowing the prey to present themselves at his feet.
“I didn’t realize ovens could use phones now,” he quipped quietly, toying absentmindedly with the piece of candy still in hand. “Or that they could have children. Oh? Leaving already?” he asked, severe pout jutting out his bottom lip. He had never known sincerity, an over actor at best. “You were so eager to talk to me a few moments ago and now you’re just gonna leave? I didn’t even get your name.” The writer looked off into the distance, wearing a saddened expression, as if he had truly been betrayed. Hamming up his performance.
Dramatically, he turned away from the other, propping his chin atop his palms, to emphasize just how devastated he was (he wasn’t). “My name is Moonsik, by the way. It was nice meeting you, I guess. Thanks for the candy, I guess,” he murmured more to himself than anyone else. He would hate himself for acting such a way later on, but for now, it seemed fitting.
there was history behind her sudden outburst, as there always seemed to be in such situations. a shiver traces the length of her spine, the sudden quiver of her body hidden beneath her many layers as she takes an involuntary step backwards. honeyed words often fell away to venomous criticisms – hiromi had found comfort in removing herself from all situations from which compliments stemmed. it was a safety net, in simpler terms, a way in which she could assuage her fears.
the smile that tugs upon his lips blossoms yet another one of her own – yet, significantly smaller than the ones that had been there before. his was nice to look at, if not infectious. perhaps she should have exercised more caution in this encounter with moonsik, yet there had been no alarms going off in her mind until those sugary words he’d spouted moments before. that in itself had been enough to drive her way, as had been witnessed.
“o–– oh, i meant my mom was calling, not my oven ––... i was nervous.” his sudden switch in attitude forces her gut to twist, the guilt settling in on her conscience. she had broken him ( supposedly ), and that was enough to lure her back onto the bench. though she more perched on it than sitting, as if ready to run if need be. “i’d still love to talk you, sorry, please don’t be sad!”
she’ll shift closer to the male in an attempt to regain his attention, mirroring his movements by cradling her head in her hands while waiting for him to turn back to her. “moonsik... that’s a nice name.” a pause as she struggles to find a way to brighten his mood once more – rather, she preferred his impassive stare to this heightened sadness. “i’m hiromi, it’s very – super – nice to meet you!”
