— & YOU’RE MAKING THE TYPICAL ME BREAK MY TYPICAL RULES.
seol’s been told she has no filter. foot-in-mouth disease. whatever euphemisms you can come up with to describe someone whose brain never seems to be on speaking terms with their mouth. it’s not a bad thing, per se, but she’s vowed to be more tactful upon her enrollment into yosul. think before she speaks and all.
but can you really blame her for laughing? she’s been watching the guy opposite her struggle with getting his broom up ( not a metaphor for anything else, ya nasties! they were at a flying lesson! ) for the majority of their lesson. offering unwarranted help might possibly come off as a little uppity, so she resolves to just hide her giggles as he yells “up!” at his broom behind a series of coughs into her sleeve.
he seems to finally lose it.
so does the broom.
"yeah, the broom like... yeeted up!” seol’s always been good at charades, and she gestures with big movements, with hushed whispers as she demonstrates just how the handle of the broom had broken his nose. kinam - at least, that’s what the name on the chart says - is pretty tall as well. she wonders just how angry the broom had been at him.
her peripheral vision catches a movement through the curtain separating her and his cot, and she pulls it open, popping her head in. “oh, are you awake? good morning!”
for @mmkinam
