my guy pretty like a girl for @mmjaemin
quitting is futile, but yejin makes an attempt anyway. that’s what counts, right?
she must look a sight, sitting out the front of the sharehouse, jeans so covered in paint, there’s barely a clean patch of denim anywhere left to see, frantically rolling a lollipop from one side of her mouth to the other in yet another attempt to resist reaching for a cigarette.
( spoiler alert: she fails as soon as she finishes painting. )
for the last three days, yejin’s been desperately trying to get this painting done -- there’s no particular reason why she’s fixated on it, only that the challenge of getting the expression just right has forced her not to focus on anything but getting this mystery face finished. she’s been trying to steer away from perfection, from perfect lines, and perfect symmetry, and all round perfection, and the frustration only seems to grow the more she pours out cupfuls of remover to fix a brush stroke or two. or five.
she’s probably in everyone’s way; that’s what happens when you sit right at the entrance of a sharehouse. but no one seems to be returning or leaving right now, so yejin figures she’s safe for another half hour or so. locks of hair are falling over her eyes, and she’s constantly blowing them away, but simultaneously failing because of the candy in her mouth ( turns out it’s a little difficult for her to blow without accidentally spitting out the lollipop -- who’da thunk it? ) her hand is starting to cramp up from holding the paintbrush in the same grip for so long, but there’s no stopping now.
that is until she hears the sound of her glass salsa jar falling, the tip of a sneaker stopped right next to it.
yejin watches, expressionless, as dirty paint water runs down the sidewalk in front of her, paintbrush hovering over her sketchbook. dread eventually washes over her as it occurs to her that she now has to stop, get up, go back to her room and fill it back up before she can continue, but even so, she’s almost numb to this later disaster.
“well. i guess it really does be like that sometimes,” she mumbles to herself, putting her sketchbook down by her side before pushing herself up to stand. “hey, sorry i was in your w--”
yejin stops mid-sentence, head jerking back in surprise. this person seems... familiar, and she says just as much.
“why... do you seem familiar? do i know you? have i seen you somewhere? wait, you’re not that person that comes into the store with the sunglasses all the time, are you? wait. no, you’re not them. that guy doesn’t dress this well. do i know you?”
