whatever CHORE she had that led her towards the unfamiliar store in the first place would be forgotten —– the sound of her own name gathering her attention and thus causing for her to link gaze with the man who voiced it. instantly , noeul’s lips would tighten into a thin line , eyes narrowed like daggers until she caught herself a few seconds late. and as fast as her hardened expression came —- it was suddenly gone ; a look of pure innocence and confusion taking it’s place.
frankly , it was almost like she had been TRAINING herself to defend against awkward situations.
“ noeul ? ” she’d wrinkle her nose a tad , dark irises glued to a particularly interesting label on a ramen package. “ ‘don’t know her. ” and she would have left it at that , too , if it hadn’t been for his follow up statement —– the sudden memory of their youth flashing into her mind like a loaded grenade. the childish bickerings , the pulling of hair , tripping of feet and constant TEASING ; their relationship had never been stable , even from such a young age. and now , to think that they both were old enough to act mature …….. “ but if i did , i think i know what she would say to a punk like you , ” her tone was light and taunting as she spoke ; again , her focus was still set upon the item she had in hand , REFUSING to look up at him —- if only to keep herself calm and collected. “ she’d probably tell you to grow up. “ however , in a brief moment of weakness , her gaze would lift. noeul would then stare at him pointedly for a few seconds before slamming the ramen back onto its shelf. “ —– and aren’t cashiers supposed to , you know , mind their own business ? ”
❛ i see you haven't changed at all. ❜ poignant remarks and embittered taste on the tip of her tongue -- if he would have believe in such spiritual matters he'd assert reading her aura as opprobriously unpropitious colors and hues of irreverence is rather suitable for noeul and in some regards, he's actually quite endorsed to witness that. perhaps for noeul used to be this strong girl he’d always marked as some sort of an adversary -- a worthy enermy to a four year old in the playground stomping upon her sand castle because she used his favorite ride without consideration of his whims, too, a contender he’d exhange malevolent ganders around at the school’s halls ; something which gave him aim and most significantly -- justification to be so mordant for reasons he shall never disclose, never avow. feasibly, it is for the familiarity in her, something which throws him back in the past and reminds him of softer days in which his most colossal worries would have been arguing with her. (no concerns of his own survival nor afflictions for his last remainings of diginity) but, ilseong has got different burdens now -- bigger and stronger and pungently, he does not covet that childhood this much -- if anything, he pitied the younger version of himself for being so gullible to believe in genuine felicity, that everything will be alright in his regard. poor little ilseong, too ingenuous and unaware of the future.
he's pulled back from these fantasies into the real world. a smirk is painted atop his slightly bruised lips and it is beautiful because he in fact enjoys everything, as if they had remained the children they are (and in some aspects still are) to resume this haphazard teasing and provoking of each other. how lovely.
❛ so what's new, princess? ❜
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