Archangel; @krxilhoon - Tumblr Blog

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@minjixkr Ilhoon revels in the attention he gets, allows others to pamper and indulge him seeing as they do so willingly and that it fuels him, boosts his ego, lifts his spirit. It’s never overbearing for he knows how to handpick those who can be accountable for their perfect ass-kissing skills.

His last three drinks are free, courtesy of the one who has been chatting him for the past half an hour. Ilhoon isn’t one to say no to alcohol, especially when he doesn’t have to worry about his tab at the end of the night. Unfortunately, Ilhoon has been bored to death for the last twenty minutes or so which is probably why he finds the bottom of his glass more interesting than anything at the moment.

The ice melts slowly, no liquid other than its water left on the glass. He picks at the lone slice of lime at the bottom with the tip of the straw he’s been playing with. He doesn’t feel like ordering a fourth glass, it’s getting late and he is clearly not going to take anyone home, however, his intention to get up and leave is shot down quickly when a girl stops him on his tracks. “Hey” He greets with a practiced familiarity that he probably shouldn’t have considering she is just a pretty stranger.

#minjixkr #p_404 error

2:37 A.M.

{ 7:02 a.m. } he wakes up early but only because Jack reminds him dutifully that he needs to walk him and even helps his owner get up by playfully pulling at his covers. he groans, but gets up. thirty minutes later, they’re back and he’s back into bed so he can sleep until he feels like a person again.

{ 11:32 a.m. }

It’s early for him, considering he has that terrible habit of being awake when everyone is asleep and he blames it on his job as if that part-time at the club that he does twice, maybe thrice a week is the sole reason why he can’t go to bed early. Old habits die hard. He remembers a time where he didn’t want to go to bed; not to sleep at least, but he can’t stop the memories and they follow through easily: neon lights and lots of red -- it's the color of passion, someone told him once, but he never delved too deep into symbology even if he should remember some of it because he is a painter after all, he should know better about color coordination. but he only knows how it makes him feel and not what it means. red is warm - hot - and overwhelming and it used to bring laughter to his days; fill his ears, drum against his chest.

[ but red is also pain ]

he opens the first cabinet to grab a bowl and sets it on the table. in his quest to the fridge, he finds eggs (and takes two), some leftover kimchi and the last of the orange juice he bought last week. Things seem to last longer now and he should be grateful for the less frequent trips to the supermarket because if there’s something Ilhoon hates is to carry heavy things all the way back to the apartment. He means to make an omelet, but he touches it too soon, parting both ends and is too lazy to try to fix it. Scrambled eggs it is then.

there are no appointments at the tattoo parlor -- he double checked -- and the hyungs will be out to attend some convention. it’s tuesday, so he doesn’t need to head over to allure later tonight either. he finds this fortunate though, he still has that end-of-semester project that he needs to work on (although he thinks it’s going terribly). he finds that he can’t look at it for longer than twenty minutes today, his mind is not with him so his hand will only do worse.

he eats instant noodles at 4 p.m. while sitting on his couch and that’s lunch, but only because he couldn’t stand the growling of his stomach anymore. Jack munches on his bone-shaped snacks at the foot of the couch even though his belly is full (ilhoon doesn’t let his son skip meals). he’s rewatching the last episode of a drama he finished a month ago, but he really likes that episode so he doesn’t mind that he’s probably seen it three or maybe four times after that first one. Jack doesn’t mind it either if that means he can jump onto the couch after he finishes all his snacks to snuggle to his owner. Ilhoon pets his head as the pup leans against his side.

{ 7 p.m. }

he should probably get up. he kinda wants to pee but he’s too lazy to move so he doesn’t. he can hold it in.

{ 8:21 p.m. }

he wakes up from a weird dream that doesn’t make sense but that he forgets as soon as he opens his eyes. he really needs to pee, so this time he obeys his body.

{ 10:10 p.m. }

the delivery guy gives him a pointed look as he retrieves the bowl of jajjangmyun and the side of yellow radish from the tin delivery box he’s carrying. ‘Please make sure to order two servings next time, customer-nim. it’s rush hour, please understand that we cannot give priority to single serving requests’

he apologizes and bows even if he doesn’t have to. later on, he ends up leaving half the food in the bowl. the noodles are soggy and sad-looking. (like him)

{ 11:30 p.m. }

he follows jack to the front door. the dog is carrying his own leash in his mouth, happily wagging its tail because he’s a happy pup and because going out is his favorite thing in the world (besides belly rubs).

{ 1:01 a.m }

there are some infomercials on. a woman in her forties explains the benefits of a manual slicer, promising that every vegetable will be perfectly cut and beautiful. her assistant marvels at the nicely shaped slice of cucumber. he chuckles and silently thinks of Baekhyun and his aversion to said vegetable. they proceed to make a whole meal with prettily cut veggies, selling the idea of big dinners and impressed husbands and wives, single friends and co-workers. ilhoon thinks he may want to get that slicer (even if he’s been lacking the will to cook meals from scratch. instead, he is tempted to order two servings only to make the delivery guy happy that his time was not wasted on him. or maybe he can skip a meal and sleep early. (unlikely).

{ 2:37 a.m. }

he wakes up from another dream but this time it doesn’t vanish as soon as he opens his eyes and he can remember the details and the faces of the people on it. it’s a happy dream, nostalgic and full of perfect people, perfect feelings, things that make him want to stick his head in the freezer and scream at himself to get it together. he feels a bit nauseated so he gets up and struts to the kitchen to pour himself a glass of water. he could sit on the chair, but he chooses the cold floor over the comfort he could get otherwise. jack has followed him there, probably wondering if he could get any snacks since his owner is up anyway. he gives him one - it’s shaped like a dinosaur and the pup munches on it happily while ilhoon checks his phone. his art teacher responded to his e-mail (good news, the date to deliver the project has been dilated and he’s not that late after all); Baekhyun called once, then sent a text. he leaves it to read it in the morning so he can claim he was resting and having his eight hours of sleep like his friend wants him to -- ignorance is a bliss; no one needs more worries. he doesn’t go over his other messages; there’s no new ones but rather a few old ones he doesn’t want to think about. Jongin texted him two days ago; something about a milkshake and fries. (his reply has been drafted, but not sent. ‘I’m sorry, I’ve been busy. maybe next week when are you free?” and it’s been edited at least five times at that point. he’s having a hard time deciding on what to say.)

he switches back to his contacts and swipes right to someone else on his list. a familiar voice greets him on the other side, still groggy.

“Hey. I hope I didn’t wake you up.” (of course he did) “So how was your day?” there’s silence on the other side of the line before a very matter of factly ‘it’s almost three in the morning’ comes. he chuckles. “I know.” he replies and they know. there’s no more questions; they simply indulge him and he’s grateful for that.

#s/p: 2:37 a.m.#with mentions of #baekhyunxkr #krjongin

krxhoxian-deactivated20181101

Candy Shop

@krxilhoon

If one good thing had come out of accompanying a friend to some random tattoo parlor because he wanted a tattoo and was ‘too scared to go alone’, it was meeting Ilhoon. Between being his friend’s emotional support and being far too interested in a tattoo for himself, he’d ended up going back several times to chat to the cute guy who eventually agreed to help design and then ink said design on Hoxian’s willing, mostly unblemished skin. After all his years of keeping to himself, making friends had surprisingly come easy to the male, and despite starting as a professional relationship, he’s quite relaxed enough to consider Ilhoon a good friend. An incredibly good friend, considering what he’d agreed to do. It had meant to be a quiet night out. As quiet a night out as one gets at a club like Allure, but he’d been prepared to enjoy a few drinks, dance for a few hours and then stumble his way home to check himself out for potential injuries before sleeping. Instead… he’s staring at Ilhoon with something very close to amused curiosity tugging his lips into a wide smile. “You want me to do what now?” Of course, he’d heard the idea the first time, but for the life of him, he can’t really process it all that well. “I mean, I know I’m hot… but I highly doubt anyone is going to waste money on that.” Still… His gaze falls to the stage laid out behind Ilhoon. It was an interesting notion, and who the hell was he kidding, anyway? He was enough of an exhibitionist to be down for it. And it’s not like Ilhoon expects him to get naked, right? “…I draw the line at getting naked,” he finally speaks, gaze returning to the other male before he grins and downs the last of his drink.