and by god! does this woman have the ridiculous audacity to test him with her piteous words back. he indeed is a diamond in a rough, in the rough of abysmal fools and unrefined swines. oh sehun, our anti-hero, with the embodiment of the divine classic greek gods is once again, disappointed in the pool of idiocy he is subjected to.
does his almost ethereal cream skin and the power of his incredible words not provide him at least better company?
looking at the degenerate before him, it seems no, of course not.
“it doesn’t look to me that you even know a spec of refined culture,” a keen eye glancing at the swine before him, seething in anger and bafflement. (oh how dare this mere mortal bleeddisease into his space?) “but it looks to be i can see a woman who makes off headed delusions.” - and shame, a women should be a figure of blessed physique.
it seems like the modern woman taints the venus and aphrodite they owe their origins to.
does this creature enjoy appearing in a suit of ignorance and stupidity? oh the modern woman is indeed a burden to their world. “i don’t care if you think of me as a bore.” - because he very much is not, and he has many to account for that fact.
“after all, your little game of domineering woman is a cliched twenty-first century persona. thinking the rest care for the interests of yours.” cue scoff, head cocked to the side, oh sehun was never sweet with his voice (only in his written words), but is only terribly honest. and an honest man is the best. “nor are you of standard beauty to rapt an intelligent being’s interest.” hedda is about to slowly spiral into her demise in her victorian restrictions in act three
and here he is, mingling with women who were prideful for being stupid.
“don’t flatter yourself.”
it’s almost insulting, how awfully ignorant the male is towards her own interests. although she wasn’t one to enjoy dramatic acts and such, talking to him felt like her head was getting forced down a bucket of ice-cold water; she yells out the blatant truth but drowns until deceitful lies are told. and for one, she has no fucking time to even pretend to act like she even cares.
❝ darling, you don’t have any idea how fucking difficult my life is. ❞
and her rebuttal begins.
❝ think flattery is my game? ❞ she scoffs at this, absolutely baffled over the fact that such a male could think of her existence as a mere cliche rather than something she’d spent hours intentionally depleting her own life for.
❝ incapable fools like you think it’s so easy to call and categorize women into your stereotypes and levels of a ‘standard beauty,’ ❞ she seethes, words flaming with rage. ❝ instead of fucking appreciating females like me who do something other than prance around, just to adore literature and the arts all day long. ❞
out of pure nature, she takes several brave steps towards the male, the airy train of her dress swaying gracefully behind her footsteps. the attire was truly fit for a lady; the words and actions that she exhausted weren’t so. and with a steady hand, she grips firmly onto the smooth collar of his shirt, fingertips tightly clenching onto the fabric with pure intention. she was growing impatient and begun to lack the carelessness she felt from initially talking to the male-- she had to escape.
yet, as she spoke, tears blossomed behind her eyelids for a mere second as she spat her words out to him.
❝ you see, not all women were born with the same appreciation that men have for every fucking thing they like. ❞ she loosens her grip by now, allowing her wrist to drop naturally to her sides.
he’s exhausting.
❝ it’s a mere pity that someone like you wouldn’t care to believe that fact exists. ❞
