angel eyes

[wnq-music]

It takes strength to be gentle and kind.

The Smiths, “I Know It’s Over”

[nxfleur-blog]

&& — * expectation

[nxfleur-blog]

nxhjs:

“I didn’t think you’d be that scared of me.” And there it is, that novelty patronizing smirk — he’s sure a lot of people have grown to detest it, and how it curled at the corners of his lips. There’s a part of him that takes pride in this notoriety, it gives him some semblance of purpose that keeps him ticking, keeps him breathing long enough to beg for more stolen time. 

(“I don’t want to hurt you.“ she goes, meek as a cornered mouse.) 

“Ah, really. How about you stop your complaining and-” He starts, though he’s rendered speechless before he can finish. “Wait, what?” Five years in the military couldn’t have prepared him for this trainwreck. Thoughts wandered, tensions reached an all time high, time ticked away in their pointless dispute. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea, maybe he should’ve just run off somewhere and spent the entire afternoon napping. Jisoo’s had it up to here with this — what did this girl take him for? Across from her he stands, slack-jawed and unsure if he should take offense or brush it aside as what seemed to be arrogant provocation. 

“I think you should be more worried about hurting yourself, kid.” Stop wasting my time, is what his tone suggests. At this point he’s sure the referee shared similar sentiments. “You? Dangerous?” It’s confrontational this time, transparent, and almost insulting. “Oooh, I’m so scared.”

oh no. he seems offended and she’s less off-put by his words than by his reaction. the patronizing smirk throws her off — only because he’s a stranger to her, still fairly new to the institute itself, and her mouth gapes open slightly as she thinks of what to say but alas nothing — yet it’s not enough to completely fluster her. 

ah — nor does she think she’s complaining. fleur crinkles her nose in distaste and disagreement but, as with every other time in her life, she stays quiet. bites her tongue, not a single word slips past rosy lips. still, it doesn’t seem as if he’s backing down any time soon and, unfortunately, neither can she. never the type to completely turn down direction from an instructor or staff member at the institute, she has no plans of starting now for some, some . . . some jerk who underestimates her because of her size. appearance too, maybe, but either way! she’s going to call it as it is, he’s acting superior to her in more ways than one — kid? he can’t be that much older, if he’s even older than her at all. how could he say that with a baby face of his own? 

again, he’s just so pretentious. 

she’s far more dangerous than she looks and maybe if her sister hadn’t thought otherwise, they wouldn’t have been so close. maybe it wouldn’t have hurt when they fell apart. maybe she should’ve been alone this whole time. no false hopes or truths, but wisdom much needed and fleur sets her mind on the notion that her opponent needs wisdom of his own. practice has made it so that she only needs a few seconds and less than five steps. 

one, take off her gloves.  two, focus. ( gathering energy isn’t as thoughtless as it sounds )  three, destroy ( okay, that might just be how she views her abilities; she’s always destroyed more than she’s created with it ) — the final step is to let go. 

but this time is different. this time, she has to be careful because his safety is still involved and she has to make sure it lands close enough to send him flying back without repercussions other than a bruised ego and maybe a bruised bum. no shrapnel or fragments can come of this or she’ll fail her own standards. it’s a burst of energy and light in broad daylight, a flash that comes as a surprise on a sunny island such as the one they’re on. 

[irxne]

[nxfleur-blog]

&& — * catharsis

[nxfleur-blog]

nxjongin:

NO SHIT, is she really going to do that? now?

from the height he was crouching on, with furrowed brows and half an incredulous frown, his eyes somehow — of all the frenzied matters to focus on — hone in on fleur. that’s her name, isn’t it? like the girl from the harry potter series?

maybe fleur laurent is not, at the moment, as observant as fleur delacour if she thinks she can successfully handle the radius of not one, but two explosions, given the current extremities of her capabilities.

it’s sort of like he’s watching her in slow motion. he thinks maybe she’ll make it out, so for a split second he doesn’t move. of course, all time is precious; the loss of that split second and lack of his intervention sends her flying back, the smoke of the outburst rolling up in clouds and skewing his vision as he’s already webbing his way through the buildings until on his knees he is by her clearly insentient body.

there are some pretty nasty cuts on her head, but he knows she’ll be fine: he’s done this a thousand times. the worry was always the psychological aspect of it. some students were always harder on themselves than others. this girl, fleur — she seems like she would fall into that group, based on what jongin has observed thus far.

one arm slips under the joints of her knees, the other around her upper back. the simulation slowly fades into grids. when an artificial female voice (soothing, nonetheless) announces the simulation is complete, jongin is already by the exit, rushing her to the health center.

and because it’s not like he has anything better to do, he stays with her by the bed. just until she wakes up.

maybe it was karma. a concept that fleur didn’t believe in herself and yet that didn’t make it impossible. if there’s anything that being at nexus has taught her, it’s that the impossible is indeed possible. the answer is actually simpler than she makes it: it’s cause and effect. cause? she got ahead of herself. effect? a loss of consciousness and extreme self-awareness once she awakens. 

that’s not her first thought when she wakes up but it becomes heavily prevalent as her eyes open to white walls, white ceilings, a sign of the health center if anything, a sight she isn’t glad to recognize so easily or as quickly. 

soreness pulls her thoughts back in and she groans softly under her breath. at least no one else was hurt — if she had to be completely honest, fleur doesn’t mind what happens to her as long as no one else comes into harm’s way. 

but the reason she was so self-aware all of a sudden was not that, but the familiar face next to her bed. already, she feels bashful — who wouldn’t recognize him? he’s the spider boy she’d seen on the news, read about, was even a fan of. this was not how she wanted to meet him, if she ever did. heroes are best admired from afar, right? then again, she’s at an institute designed to create the ‘heroes of tomorrow’ or so she’s been told. 

“ h-hello . . . have you been waiting long? “ 

ah, fleur, of all things to say . . . she mentally scolds herself. was it pretentious to assume he’s waiting for her? no matter how embarrassed she starts to feel, warmth flooding her cheeks and rising along the nape of her neck, she needs reassurance of one thing only before she could even entertain the thought of her own well-being. “ was anyone else injured? “

[advjingoo]

Locked In | Fleur & Jin Goo

[nxfleur-blog]

nxjingoo:

He wakes up face down on the forest floor. Everything’s serene, quiet, until he tries to move. Pain lances through him, as always he’s sore. But when he tries to get up, the pain amplifies a hundred times over. Looking over, he spies the beginnings of- what is that? A splint? 

He gets an understanding that his beast must’ve broken his arm, but then the terror sets in. Checking the fingernails on his good hand, Jin Goo’s relieved to not find any trace of blood, but then what did that mean? Did someone see him passed out in human form with a broken arm and decide to put a splint on it and not bring him back to the Institute? The splint wasn’t snug on his broken arm though. That must’ve meant that someone had put it on his beast. But that didn’t make any sense. If that were the case, he should’ve had blood somewhere on him. 

Regardless, Jin Goo figures that the first thing to do would be to readjust the splint and get himself into the health center and put a sling on himself. He tightens the splint around his arm, noting a slight scent coming from the striped fabric around the wood. He’s grateful that it’s nighttime. There aren’t many eyes to see him making his way back to his room, with - ahem - no clothes on. 

Once in his room, he manages to slip on shorts and a muscle tee with one hand and an awkward splint. Like after all transformations, he’s exhausted. As long as he doesn’t move his arm, there’s only a dull throbbing pain, and he figures the health center can wait until morning. 

Come morning, he gets to the health center and manages to find a sling. He’s about to change his splint and put it into a sling, when he hears someone seemingly addressing him? He turns to see a girl, he’s assuming a student. “Ah, no, you’re not intruding. Can I help you? I don’t work here, but I can try,” he offers. 

she’s still familiarizing herself with the campus itself let alone the staff members so when she walked into the health center, it was all with a wild guess of who exactly she should talk to. in all honesty, fleur wasn’t all too sure the health center should be her first choice ( if not maybe for herself, but she’s beyond the point of thinking of that before asking about the creature to find out its current state ) but after walking in on someone already, there’s no going back. no more questioning and it’s all for the greater good, she tells herself. what greater good it serves, she isn’t sure of either but fleur does know herself well enough to know that she’d talk herself out of talking to anyone about what happened if she fled now. 

“ oh . . . um, has . . . “ but her words trail off because the answer to the question she was going to ask, would’ve asked if not for what her eyes caught sight of, is right in front of her. it could be pure coincidence, the word tries to burn itself into her brain because the chances of it baffle her — then again, everything she’s seen, heard, and learned since coming the institute is certainly out of this world compared to the life she once knew — but there’s no denying the fabric of her torn shirt around his splint. slight changes ( obviously the man standing before her isn’t the same size as the beast and can speak coherent english; whether she can isn’t clear right now ) have been made but it’s the same as the item of clothing that now lays sadly on the arm of her desk chair. 

“ i’m sorry but can i ask how you injured your arm . . . is that too personal? i apologize—! for the sudden . . . intrusion of privacy . . . i mean, you don’t have to tell me! “ she can feel the blood rushing to her cheeks, a flush of rosy pink now adorns ivory skin and she tucks a loose strand of her hair behind her ear, a nervous tic she hasn’t shaken for over a decade at her sister’s chagrin. 

“ it’s just that . . . forget it . . . i suppose i sound crazy to you now. i’m sorry. ” another bad habit surfaces as she bows her head in bashfulness with a hint of regret: apologizing too much. “ is it very painful? i hope it doesn’t take you too long to heal. “

[71letters]

You’re not scared of love. No, you’re scared that your tainted red hands will stain his pure white heart.

b.j.r // falsifying fears 

[nxfleur-blog]

&& — * expectation

[nxfleur-blog]

nxhjs:

(“I don’t think we could work together… It’s dangerous.“) 

“Dangerous is right, who in the right mind would set you up with the likes of me?” It’s dismissive, but to those perceptive enough there’s a layer of underlying goading behind his words. “Unfair matchup for you, easy win for me. Can’t say I’m complainin’.”

“Just means that I’ve got the afternoon free after I’m done." 

More than anything, Jisoo wants to cut the formalities and jump right into the regulated brawl, put the poor thing out of her misery before things got any worse for her. It doesn’t take much for him to register that the tiny girl is barely half his size, so unfair is right. She looks the type he could beat in arm wrestling with just his pinky; judging by both their statures and the sheer difference in size, there’s no way she could be able to fight back unless she had something hidden up her sleeve. 

And with the baggy sweater she sported, she could be hiding many things up her sleeve.

But knowing Jisoo, he lets first impressions get the better of him, he doesn’t suspect a thing. It’s just… downright pitiful, because demented as he was, having to actually engage in a match with someone whom in his eyes, was unlikely able to fight back took the thrill fresh out of it. 

"So, want me to go easy on you?" 

it’s moments such as this that fleur wishes she had even half of elaine’s courage. to possess the bravery to say what comes to mind with his taunting, critical words. fleur may not be as knowledgeable of many social cues compared to the various other topics she could list off for hours on end but she certainly knew when she was being mocked.  

‘ il capte trois fois rien ‘ is what comes to mind first and her sister would be less uncouth about it. to say ‘ he knows nothing ‘ is far more tame compared to what elaine would say and fleur misses her adoptive sister more in that moment than she had allowed herself to for months. missing someone was too risky. reckless. a luxury she can’t afford when her abilities are affected so easily by her emotions. for someone like her, attachment and what comes with such attachment isn’t affordable. 

she’s not easily riled up but she can’t help how her cheeks flush at his bragging. 

he’s pretentious. 

it’s as if he’s never heard that big things come in small package and fleur doubts anyone should be so smug in a situation like this. if there was anything to learn within the first few weeks of coming to nexus, it was that you never know what to expect. 

“ no! “ and it’s the most bold she’s been in nearly a year. “ i have no plans of sparring with you. r-request a new partner. “ but her audaciousness is only brief, comes in momentary spurts and leaves just as quickly. her stutter gives her nerves away but her hands fall to her side, gloved fingers curling loosely in her palm, peeking out from under her sleeves, and she shakes her head — no, fleur, your resolve must be stronger than this! “ i don’t want to hurt you. “ maybe blunt honesty could work. maybe being the key word and yet the least meaningful as she glances in his direction, avoidant of direct eye contact. 

he didn’t seem like the type that was easy to convince. actually, he seemed far from it. 

[advjingoo]

Locked In | Fleur & Jin Goo

[nxfleur-blog]

nxjingoo:

Now that emotions have calmed down and it’s not feeling as threatened as before, the pain is starting to come through. And as she tries to straighten out its leg to how its supposed to look, it feels the sharp lances of pain it was supposed to feel a little while back. 

This prompts a growl, but nothing more, as somehow it recognizes that she’s making a splint, something that was supposed to help keep broken limbs straight. It doesn’t remember how it knows this; it had healed broken bone on its own before. All it can picture is a splint from a different time being applied to a human leg. Before it can try to hold onto the memory, pain snaps it back to reality. The human girl had secured it with some sort of striped fabric, and tightened it around its leg. She’s smiling brightly, probably proud of her handiwork, it assumes. 

It tries to move its leg, snarling briefly as it finds the movement awkward. The splint had been placed so that one of its joints was rendered immobile. Sure, if it wanted to break free of the structure, it wouldn’t be difficult, but there wasn’t much point to it. It wasn’t going to be in control for a very long time anyways. Its existence was mostly based on bloodlust. Without the excitement of a hunt, without anger as fuel, it was already feeling the pull back to darkness. 

As much as it didn’t really mind the presence of this female, it wasn’t about to let its guard down and be completely vulnerable. It could feel the pull of the darkness stronger now, and figured with an injured leg and a stint in the way of its movements, it needs to go now. 

It shakes its head vigorously, as though trying to shake off the darkness before it completely went under. It gives her one last look, before running as fast as it could with a limp, shouldering its way deeper into the forest. It makes it another minute into the forest, hoping the female isn’t following, before it collapses on its side, the transformation back into human form starting. 

a dream — that’s what it felt like. if fleur truly wanted to, she could convince herself it was. but the memories play in her mind even as she walked away, questioning every little thing as she left. could she just leave the creature alone now that it ran off? would its leg heal properly? was her splint even helpful? would the creature be okay, being injured and alone? 

the fact that it loomed over her threateningly as soon as it was free, the fact that it snarled at her, it’s forgotten compared to the pain in its growl when it realized its own injury. that’s what bothered her most as she lay her head to sleep but what could she say? who could she speak to? how would she explain? not only did her story seem odd ( to say the least ) but the riskiness of it all, how reckless she actually was to attempt any of it, was yet another reason for words to fall short on the tip of her tongue. proof was in the tattered remains of her shirt, how the edge is torn and missing, the dirt that remains on her shoes, the scratches on her palms. 

&&. time skip —

the next morning leaves her in a daze. fleur barely recalls washing her hands of the dried blood before readying herself for bed and yet in the morning, she has to pause before putting on her gloves because of the thin layer of bandages she’d wrapped them in — quite hesitantly, at that, because the chances of her abilities triggering is still high in her opinion. it’s then that her best option comes to mind and she wonders how she hadn’t thought of it until now ( the answer is simple though: she’s still wrapping her mind around what happened in the first place ). 

light footsteps bring her to the health center of the institute but the nurse is nowhere to be found yet. traces of people are obvious, murmured voices and the groan of a patient ahead of her and obviously in more need. whatever questions she has will have to wait and she only has the mindset to search for the staff member manning the center when she finds something else, someone else. “ h-hello? oh—! i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to intrude . . . “ 

[baejoohyuned]

[nxfleur-blog]

&& — * expectation

the danger room is ironically safer than this. fleur stands across from a much taller, much more intimidating opponent and she can’t even fathom how she could be considered a match for him based on physicality alone. hand to hand combat? there’s surely no way she has a single chance. he’s fairly new as far as she knows — yet they’re at the same rank. the classes they take reveal that much and she swears he’s recognizable from that much, at least. if not, she makes it a fair point to learn of those within her rank. being paired up in the danger room together is a given during classes and evaluations but outside of the danger room? 

this just doesn’t seem right. 

the cotton of her sleeve drapes over her gloved hand as she presses it to her mouth, hesitation shown from head to toe — it keeps her on edge and she can’t imagine striking first. how could she when he has no shield? no protection against what havoc she could wreak? 

and so, in a weak manner, muffled on top of everything, she calls out to him across the field. “ maybe you should ask for a new partner, “ but she can’t find it within herself to say it’s because she’s more afraid of harming him than she is of him harming her despite his stature. “ i don’t think we could work together . . . it’s dangerous. “ difficult words for her to say when everything she’s said and done since coming to the institute has been for the sake of working things out, of benefiting the greater good, of helping. the last thing she feels at the moment is helpful as she tries to turn down their pairing for field combat. 

[nxfleur-blog]

cfmusings:

                  we carry these things inside of us                          that no one else can see                      they hold us down like anchors                           they drown us out at sea

[nxsebastian-blog]

Switched Cups || Open

[nxfleur-blog]

nxsebastian:

“Oh, definitely. Trying out new things it’s a great thing to do,” he said, nodding in agreement. Sebastian was a coffee lover so he had made it his goal in life to taste every single variation of coffee in existence. Plus, he was on the whole other side of the world, talking to people in their native language even if he had only just recently learned it himself. Up to where he was right now, the change had been good for him. Thought, he didn’t know what would come in the near or far future, he was glad he made the choice. “They’re just shocking when unexpected,” he said, chuckling softly at the end of his sentence.

Frowning deeply, almost as if offended, Sebastian shook his head. “Spilled coffee is just a tragedy.” Maybe he was being a bit over dramatic but, in a brand new day and a bright new morning, Sebastian could only imagine how sad that scenario would be. And that’s without counting on a gloomy and cloudy day, where all he would want to do is curl under his sheets and sleep the day away– there would be mourning there for sure.

Finally shaking his hand, Sebastian’s smile widen as he quickly returned her bow with a small nod of his head. Right. Bowing. “It’s nice to meet you too Fleur. That’s a very pretty name. What does it mean?” As he retreated his hand from hers, Sebastian took hold of his cup with both hands and took sip from it, delighted in the wonderful taste of the coffee. He looked at her over the cup, the edge of his lips curving upwards again at her words as he nodded in affirmation. “As a matter of fact, I do. I teach the Yoga and Meditation classes.” He said with a little surprise, a brow arching in curiosity. “You a student there?”

“ isn’t that supposed to be more exciting? “ or so she’s heard. fleur herself wouldn’t know too much about excitement and she smiles meekly as she pushes at the bridge of her glasses, edging them back into place after she had bowed. but she’s grateful he agrees with her notion — spilled coffee is a waste and a tragedy indeed. though she’s admittedly more of a tea fanatic at the end of the day ( more calming, she says, given that she’s anxiety ridden enough as it is ), her love for coffee doesn’t pale that much in comparison. 

drinking culture in france wasn’t as eagerly celebrated as it was in korea from her own experience but she didn’t partake in it very often either way. what suited her most was curling up with a book and a cup of warm coffee, tea, or, especially around the holidays, hot cocoa. mini marshmallows were more of her sister’s taste and she often went with the plain route. no embellishments, no extraneous toppings, but the simplicity of cocoa, milk, and light hints of vanilla per her adoptive father’s homemade recipe. he was right about trying new things but there was a specific charm that came with the quaintness of what was familiar and she smiles wistfully at the memory. 

“ oh —thank you! it means flower in french. what does your name mean? ” it wasn’t too often that she was asked about the meaning of her name over the origin of it. gloved hand finding its place around her cup, she nods in acknowledgement. she knew of the yoga classes and meditation is unknown to her but it doesn’t come with much surprise given the former. “ oh, i am . . . my friend told me about your classes and i’ve been there since the beginning . . . um— “ does she go with honesty or — “ my friend told me about your class today but i wasn’t sure if i should go . . . “ trying out new things is a great thing to do, didn’t he say? 

[srxsehun-blog]

* optical illusions ,

[nxfleur-blog]

nxevie:

evie’s seated at the library next to a certain brunette, and there’s a silence that hangs over them, a rare moment in time where evie’s words have ceased and the library is what it’s supposed to be—quiet and tranquil and free of noise and distraction.

it isn’t usually like this. from the moment they’d first met, much of their relationship has consisted of evie sliding into an empty seat, engaging fleur in such a one-sided conversation that sometimes she thinks she may as well be speaking to a psychiatrist. words come effortlessly to evie, some hold meaning, most do not. she’s excessively verbose, making up for years of a lack of social life by giving too much—she’s pretty sure she’s told her universal password to fleur more than once.

but the quiet allows evie to observe, a skill at which she’s admittedly inept, allows her to see her friend rather than speak at her. evie’s brown eyes are almost unblinking, staring observantly at her companion’s face, taking in the shape of it, analyzing and inspecting. her focus is on the round framed glasses that adorn the other girl’s face, resting upon a bridge of a nose so perfect she thinks it’s unfair. her head tilts to the side as she attempts to imagine fleur without them, but she’d always been a visual learner, gaining experience through visual means than by hearing alone.

“hey, fleur,” she speaks, predictably breaking the silence, reaching a hand up to reach out and run her finger along the temple of her friend’s glasses. “what do you look like without these on? your glasses?”

there’s not a single friend fleur has made at the institute that she doesn’t find far more loquacious than herself but when it comes to evie, it’s as if there’s no prime example of such except for her. vibrant and talkative, at times, fleur would consider evie to be everything she’s not. pretty, outgoing, open. not to mention a special kind of sincerity that allows her to befriend someone as unsociable as fleur in the library of all places. she’d long lost count of how many times evie had been shushed by someone studying nearby or the library herself and yet evie didn’t lose any of her cheerful charm. 

it’s moments in which evie is too quiet that fleur is more cautious of. she’d rather give half her attention to her friend than allow all of it to drift back to her studying for risk of something bewildering. 

what happens next is exactly one of the situations fleur doesn’t find herself in unless with evie and it’s one she grows immediately uncomfortable with, “ h-huh? “ it’s not that she’s caught off guard — which, yes, she undoubtedly is — but that her glasses being off make her feel uneasy. essentially a part of her, of her identity or, truthfully, lack of, she can’t remember a day she didn’t wear them. from a young age, fleur had to wear glasses. a necessity that became one in each and every way it could possibly become one, beyond the convenience of contact lenses and lasik surgery. “ i would look naked! “ it’s said with too much urgency, too much panic, eyelashes flutter against her cheek in shock and her cheeks flush in bashfulness at the loudness of her voice as she tried to avoid the gazes she’d attracted, shielding herself behind a larger book. “ i mean, i would feel naked . . . why do you ask? “ 

but the truth is, she’d been conditioned to think that not only was it part of her but that she didn’t look right without them. that she’s not pretty. 

[everysongaday]

Visit Original Link

[advjingoo]

Locked In | Fleur & Jin Goo

[nxfleur-blog]

nxjingoo:

It can see the tension in her body, coiled up tightly. Even if it couldn’t smell her fear, which it could, it couldn’t have overlooked the obvious nervousness portrayed simply by her body language. The smell of fear doesn’t bring up quite so much bloodlust, especially since it’s more curious at the moment. 

Distracted, it takes another step towards the female, not noticing that it’s the broken leg that it’s walking on. The pain doesn’t quite register as it just stares at her. 

When she brings up, its broken leg, it follows her gaze to see its leg twisted at an odd angle. Was this female some sort of doctor? How was she so sure she could help fix things? It makes a low sound that’s not quite a growl, but sits back on its hind legs, lifting its ‘injured’ leg off the ground for her… inspection, he assumes. 

Its own curious gaze is fixed on the blood slowly trickling from her palms. She wasn’t bleeding so much before. What had changed? It doesn’t have any clue about what happened to cause her to bleed so much. It feels a tiny, barely-there twinge of… what is that? It’s not concern. It’s definitely not concern. But it does wonder whether she’s the one who needs medical attention. It would heal itself in time. But would she? 

first aid isn’t a particular skill of hers — what she knows from reading and from tales her adoptive mother has regaled to her certainly don’t suffice for experience — but fleur believes common sense can help her; she believes more than that, it can help the creature who seems more docile and more understanding than she initially thought. swallowing thickly again makes it no easier to catch her breath. 

lungs constrict, shoulders tense, and she hasn’t blinked. that is, until it sits back on its hind legs and she feels as if she’s no longer in immediate danger. for now. 

there’s no saying what’ll be happen if she fails or, worse, if she somehow ends up worsening the injury. whatever experience or lack of she had in first aid in the first place wouldn’t matter given that it’s not animal husbandry but the creature is more than unique enough to be an exception. limbs that can likely extend like a human’s, at least more comparably than other animals, and she leans forward to examine its leg closer, explaining each move she takes as to gain its trust. “ah, “ she murmurs in discovery. “ this’ll hurt but . . . “ 

her best hope is to straight the leg back into its proper position and steady it somehow. branches will suffice given their location but she has no ties, no rope, nothing to secure it on her person. not directly anyway, and it’s then that she gives thought to the long shirt she wore under her oversized sweater, length excessive enough to still be visible and she tears at it— meekly at first, she’s not used to this, but encouragement comes in the form of positive thoughts of the creature healing with her help and she gently ( as much as she can, anyway ) adjusts the creature’s leg, a handmade splint made and tied off with a bright smile as she pulls away, momentarily unaware of herself and the predicament as she gazes up. “ oh . . . i still don’t know if you’ll understand but . . . if you keep your leg like this, it’ll heal properly. you can’t just walk on it bent, okay? it’ll heal badly and hurt you more. “ 

[nayeoh]

dweebs times two

[nxfleur-blog]

nxhyemi:

all hyemi could think of was food, food, and more food. from the set of display of the menus, to the actuality of the meal itself—her main focus now had revolved and circled around it again, and again. the view of their current surrounding that encompassed the pit of the library looked albeit much too darker than before. how long have they’ve been there? and how could she survive with skipping lunch? it was their queue to make their exit and nothing was going to stop her, except for fleur’s objection of course.

though in all honesty, it felt empty if she were to venture for dinner without the presence of her best friend. sure, the jolly cat had been accustomed to eating alone at times, still, it wouldn’t suffice if there laid absence for the other. the after hours proved them that they should needed to step out and have a change of scenery. and another form of grumble came from the pit of her stomach as she watched the latter. “ i think it was breakfast? how about you? ” and the more she stayed there, the more it became arduous for her to handle. “ i know a few good places, or we could just have ramen, ” even the noodles sounded very appealing to her at that moment.  

it’d be too hopeful for her to think she could somehow convince her friend’s mind to stray away from the possibility of food. in fact, scratch that, it’s more of an inevitability of leaving to get food than it is a possibility and fleur herself should know that very, very well considering how long they’ve known each other. from the times hyemi has visited fleur’s small town and taken walks with her only to call for a break to replenish with food — fleur always made it a point to joke that replenishing meant water but, with hyemi, it always meant that and more in the form of whatever snacks or meal they could find — to how hyemi insisted fleur come to seoul once she found out the colmar native was far from home due to unfortunate circumstances and ensured she was eating well despite it. 

as such, it was one of many reasons why fleur could never deny hyemi the pleasures of food. not to mention, at hyemi’s answer, fleur realized breakfast seemed like a luxury for her in terms of remembering the last time she ate. “ breakfast? ” she intentionally echoes. “that’s too long, hyemi. we should get you something to eat.” and yet reluctantly fleur packed up — how long had it taken her to find the perfect book to study? one that corresponded with her note taking style so well but she couldn’t pay that any more mind. she could always come back to it and, as always, fleur would likely be back in the library hours from now unless hyemi had any say in it. “ are you craving anything? i’ll go where you go. ” no truer words could’ve been spoken.