Always Love

Multimuse - Rhys, Arisa, Lucia, Jun

[ofmoonlightx]

This is a dependent rp for thefaultlinehq and a closed rp. played by cc. a multimuse blog.

Arisa "Isa" Nantasri - ER nurse, civilian, 33 || Intro + Pinterest Rhys Cole - Treasurer , Rift Rider, 43 || Intro + Pinterest Lucia Virelli - cleaner, mob, 28 || Intro + Pinterest Seojun Ryu - federal agent, civilian, 32 || Intro + Pinterest

[aqu4regia]

As   impulsive   as   Jia   was,   she   wouldn’t   have   imagined   that   one   night,   one   year   ago,   would   have   led   her   to   this   complete   breakdown   in   the   middle   of   the   street.   Maybe   the   problem   was   that   Jia   was   only   now   realizing   that   the   reason   why   she   hadn’t   had   a   peaceful   night,   a   thoughtful   connection   or   a   completely   satisfying   sexual   encounter,   was   standing   in   front   of   her,   telling   her   to   move   along,   looking   at   her   like   their   night   hadn’t   meant   anything   and,   fuck…   that   hurt.   She   was   supposed   to   have   forgotten,   too.   She   was   a   mess.   Broken   and   hardly   trustworthy   when   it   came   to   relationships.   Maybe   she   was   born   this   way.   Sometimes,   especially   when   she   was   having   a   hard   time,   she   would   think   that   killing   her   mother   had   also   killed   that   part   of   her   that   was   capable   of   loving,   and   murdering   her   father   had   only   solidified   it.

Oh,   but   she   did   love.   She   loved   her   parents,   she   loved   Ryker   and   Jason,   she   loved   Brooklyn   and   Hani.   Seo   Yeong   might   not   have   lived   long,   but   Jia   loved   as   fiercely   and   as   strongly   as   she   possibly   could.   Even   if   it   wasn’t   strong   enough.   Or   long   enough.

Obviously   whatever   had   transpired   between   Seojun   and   her   hadn’t   been   love.   She   wasn’t   delusional   like   that.   But   it had   been   something.   She   had felt   something,   and   Jia   would   have   been   perfectly   fine   if   she   never   saw   him   again.   Maybe   it   was   all   in   her   head,   and   maybe   this   emptiness   she’d   been   feeling   ever   since   had   nothing   to   do   with   the   connection   they   felt   and   everything   to   do   with   her   lack   of   ability   to   connect.

Yes,   that’s   what   it   was.   It   wasn't   him.   He   wasn't   important.   He   wasn't   fucking   important.

Liar.

Jia   was   beyond   angry.   More   than   angry   at   him,   she   was   angry   at   herself.   She   was   standing   there,   making   a   scene   and   being   lectured   like   a   child.   She   was   not   a   child.   She   was   old   enough   to   understand   that   she   was   fucked   up   and   should   have   never   said   anything   in   the   first   place   because   he.   didn’t.   care.   Seojun   had   made   it   clear   in   the   way   those   words   escaped   his   lips   with   such   coldness   and   indifference   that   a   slap   on   her   face   would   have   hurt   less,   meant   less.   Words   had   never   been   her   forte   and   yet,   the   ones   they’d   exchanged   that   evening   had   been   etched   in   her   brain   like   a   damn   tattoo.   His   breathing   on   her   neck,   holding   onto   him   as   each   wave   of   pleasure   crashed   onto   her,   the   way   his   fingertips   brushed   against   her   mother’s   name   on   her   neck,   the   way   he   moaned   her   name   with   such   eagerness.   And   now…   now   her   name   was   just   a   name.

Bland.   Dead   on   his   lips.

It   didn’t   mean   anything.   It doesn’t   mean   anything.   He   had   said   it   himself:   it   wasn’t   a   subject   worth   bringing   up.

❝   You’re   right.   ❞   The   brunette   crossed   her   arms,   her   walls   going   immediately   up   as   if   she   had   flipped   a   switch   that   distanced   herself   from   the   rest   of   the   world.   ❝   It   wasn’t   worth   bringing   up.   ❞   Whatever   his   business   in   Rift   Valley   was,   he   would   probably   leave   soon   anyway   and   they   would   be   able   to   forget   everything   about   this.   Memory   was   a   trick   villain.   It   invaded   people’s   minds   and   made   them   believe   things   that   hadn’t   happened.   Just   like   the   connection   she   imagined   they   had   had.   ❝   There’s   no   need   to   lecture   me   like   a   child.   ❞   Or   maybe   there   was.   Maybe   that   was   how   she   had   been   acting   in   his   mind.   It   wouldn’t   be   too   far   from   the   truth   anyway.   The   fire,   the   bravado   in   her   voice   was   completely   gone   now.   The   traces   of   the   brash   person   from   before,   completely   gone. 

Fuck,   she   felt   so   inadequate.   Such   a   stranger   in   her   own   skin,   and   she   hated   when   that   happened.

Taking   a   step   to   her   left,   Jia   got   out   of   his   clear   path.   ❝   I’ll   get   out   of   your   way   like   you   asked.   ❞   There.   Done.   Easy,   wasn't   it?   He   could   go   on   with   his   life   and   she   would   go   on   with   hers.   It   hadn't   meant   anything.   Perhaps   if   she   had   done   so   before,   none   of   this   would   have   happened   and   she   wouldn’t   be   feeling   like   utter   shit.   It   hadn't   meant   anything.   It   would   be   hard   to   forget   such   an   encounter,   but   Jia   was   probably   going   to   keep   repeating   those   words   to   herself   until   she   believed   them.

Shaking   her   head,   Jia   adjusted   her   sleeveless   jacket   around   her   slim   frame   and   started   walking   away   from   that   stupid   spot   where   she   would   probably   have   etched   to   her   brain   as   the   place   she   had   become   a   fucking   joke   to   someone   else.   It   hadn't   meant   anything.   Oh   to   be   remembered   like   the   Norwegian   Wood   quote   she   had   left   him   that   evening.   A   quote   was   just   a   quote.   That’s   why   she   preferred   numbers   and   codes.   Those   were   easier   to   understand.   A   quote   was   a   quote,   a   night   was   just   a   night,   sex   was   just   sex.   It   hadn't   meant   anything.   There   was   no   spark,   no   electricity,   no   butterflies,   no   nothing.   Only   two   people   who   had   shared   a   bed   and   now   were   complete   strangers   again.

Perhaps   it   would   be   best   to   be   forgotten,   then.   It   hadn't   meant   anything   anyway.

[ofmoonlightx]

It   wasn't   as   though   Seojun   lacked   emotions.   He   simply   wasn't   governed   by   them.   In   situations   like   this,   feelings   were   rarely   the   first   place   his   mind   went.   He   preferred   facts.   Logic.   Things   that   could   be   examined,   understood,   and   placed   neatly   into   their   proper   categories.   What   exactly   was   he   supposed   to   do   here?   Revisit   something   that   belonged   to   the   past?   A   single   moment   in   time   that   neither   of   them   had   anticipated   carrying   any   significance   beyond   itself?   The   unfortunate   reality   was   that   it   had.   At   some   point   during   that   night,   he   had   felt   something.   Not   merely   attraction.   Not   merely   physical.   Something   quieter   than   that.   Something   closer   to   connection.   The   realization   remained   uncomfortable   even   now.

Seojun   had   never   considered   himself   incapable   of   feeling.   He   simply   never   found   much   use   for   indulging   in   it.   In   his   world,   emotions   often   became   liabilities.   Weaknesses   people   exploited.   Armor   was   necessary   if   one   intended   to   survive   long   enough   to   face   the   darker   parts   of   humanity.   Nothing   in   this   world   was   truly   innocent.   Whatever   innocence   existed   was   eventually   stripped   away   by   circumstance,   greed,   violence,   or   time   itself.   There   was   no   room   for   illusions.

The   irony   was   that   he   cared   more   than   most   people   realized.   The   difference   was   that   he   was   selective   about   who   received   those   pieces   of   him.   People   like   Hani.   Dulce.   The   rare   individuals   he   trusted   enough   to   lower   his   guard   around,   even   if   only   slightly.   They   understood   him   in   ways   others   did   not.   As   distant   as   Seojun   appeared,   as   cold   or   off-putting   as   people   often   assumed   him   to   be,   those   closest   to   him   knew   the   truth.   That   was   simply   how   he   navigated   the   world.

This   situation,   however,   was   different.   Perhaps   he   would   have   acknowledged   whatever   existed   between   them   if   it   had   been   approached   differently.   Had   it   arrived   as   a   conversation   rather   than   an   accusation.   Had   there   been   space   to   examine   it   without   feeling   cornered   by   it.   Instead,   it   felt   as   though   they   were   dissecting   something   neither   of   them   fully   understood.   This   wasn't   the   time.   Nor   the   place.   There   was   too   much   attached   to   that   night.   Too   much   he   had   yet   to   process,   let   alone   define.   He   lacked   the   language   for   it.   The   emotion   itself   remained   foreign   territory,   and   Seojun   was   not   accustomed   to   operating   in   places   he   could   not   map.

Yet   the   feeling   lingered   all   the   same.

His   gaze   settled   on   Jia   as   her   expression   shifted.   The   change   was   immediate.   Noticeable.   Like   watching   a   switch   being   flipped.   Whatever   emotion   had   occupied   her   moments   earlier   seemed   to   disappear,   replaced   by   something   sharper.   More   controlled.   More   logical.   The   same   person   he   had   first   met.   Perhaps   that   was   what   unsettled   him.   The   ease   with   which   she   could   strip   everything   away   and   retreat   behind   that   version   of   herself.   There   was   something   brutal   about   it.   Something   intimidating.   And,   if   he   were   being   honest,   something   captivating.

“Were   you   in   need   of   a   lecture?"   His   voice   was   calm,   measured   as   always.   Not   defensive.   Not   offended.   Merely   curious.   His   head   tilted   slightly.   Whatever   connection,   tether,   invisible   force   that   had   driven   them   to   be   close   that   night.   It   hadn't   meant   anything,   right?   now   she   had   him   questioning   it.   back   tracking,   because   even   if   he   convinced   himself   of   that   to   be   true.   The   evidence   was   there.   The   way   they   moved   against   one   another,   the   warmth   of   her   skin,   and   light   touches   that   even   at   the   thought   now,   made   him   involuntarily   shiver   once   again.   "I'm   simply   making   you   aware,   how   this   looks--”   but   she   continued   on.

What   else   was   there   to   say?   The   atmosphere   had   shifted.   Seojun   had   noticed   it   before,   though   now   it   felt   more   apparent.   The   conversation   had   reached   the   point   where   anything   further   would   accomplish   very   little.   He   understood   that   much.   Without   comment,   he   stepped   aside,   creating   enough   space   for   her   to   pass.   Again,   he   left   his   words   where   they   were.   Unfinished.   His   gaze   followed   her   as   she   moved   past   him,   watching   in   silence.   The   distance   between   them   grew   with   every   step   until   her   figure   gradually   blended   into   the   darkness   surrounding   the   street.   Strange,   how   something   could   feel   significant   and   insignificant   all   at   once.

Perhaps   that   was   all   they   were.

Two   people   who   had   crossed   paths   unexpectedly.

Two   people   carrying   entirely   different   versions   of   the   same   memory   or   perhaps   connected   together,   whole.

A   measured   breath   left   him   as   he   finally   turned   away.   He   grabbed   his   wallet,   a   hidden   compartment   where   he   held   the   piece   of   paper   that   he   kept.   Words   written,   that   even   as   he   unfolded   and   glanced   at   it.

I   want   you   to   always   remember   me. Will   you   remember   that   I   existed, and   that   I   stood   next   to   you   here   like   this? The   night   continued   around   him   as   though   it   had   witnessed   what   transpired,   and   still   continued   on.   Streetlights   hummed   quietly   overhead.   Traffic   moved   somewhere   in   the   distance.   Had   they   lived   a   different   life,   he   could   allow   himself   to   fully   embody   the   note   she   had   written.   He   had   remembered   and   it   very   much   existed.

[aqu4regia]

Jia   had   never   truly   expected   to   be   unforgettable,   but   somehow,   the   way   Seojun   looked   at   her,   made   her   feel   like   the   night   that   they   had   had,   had   been   as   forgettable   and   as   bland   as   any   other   in   their   lives.   Sure,   the   brunette   could   blame   it   on   the   time   that   had   passed   between   that   evening   in   LA   in   which   she   allowed   herself   to   have   a   complete   stranger   get   under   her   skin.   She   could   blame   it   on   whatever   connection   that   they’ve   had   or   allegedly   have   had,   being   one-sided.   And   maybe   that   was   what   frustrated   Jia   the   most:   the   fact   that   she   was   getting   upset   over   something   that   shouldn’t   have   meant   as   much   as   it   did.   Sex   was   easy.   Sex   was   uncomplicated,   and   that’s   why   she   liked   it   so   much.   She   was   so   fucked   up   and   so   broken,   that   the   mere   inch   of   a   connection   to   someone   required   lots   of   effort,   so   yeah,   of   course   anytime   it   happened,   she   felt   out   of   place.   Case   in   point,   hers   and   Seojun’s   night   together. ❝   I   am   not   bothered.   ❞   Oh,   but   she   was.   ❝   You’re   the   one   acting   like   the   world   revolves   around—   ❞   With   a   light   shake   of   her   head,   Jia   cut   herself   short.   It   was   useless   to   keep   discussing   with   him   when   all   it   did   was   make   her   more   annoyed   and   make   him   even   less   bothered.   They   had   slept   together   a   while   ago.   She   had   felt   something…   even   thought   about   it   some   nights.   It   shouldn’t   mean   as   much.   ❝   You   know   what?   Nevermind.   Have   a   good   day,   Seojun.   ❞   That   was   the   name   he   gave   her,   wasn’t   it?   When   they   were   sharing   drinks   at   her   hotel   bar,   he   was   peeling   off   layers   and   layers   of   armor   with   whatever   tactic   he’d   been   using.   Maybe   that   was   why   she   was   so   angry.   Maybe   that   was   what   had   bothered   her   so   much.   The   brunette   spun   on   her   heels,   hands   shoving   into   her   sleeveless   jacket’s   pockets   and   balling   into   fists. 

Two   steps   were   taken   away   from   him,   before   her   legs   betrayed   her   and   made   Jia   turn   around   again.   Before   she   knew   it,   the   brunette   was   back   in   Seojun's   personal   space.   ❝   No.   You   don’t   get   to   do   that.   You   don’t   get   to   stand   there   and   dismiss   me   like   that.   Like   you   didn’t   know   who   I   was   or   some   shit.   ❞   It   didn’t   matter.   It   shouldn’t   matter.   ❝   I   did   something   with   my   tongue   and   you   felt   something   that   night.   I   know   you   did.   We   know   you   did.   So   don’t   fucking   bullshit   me   like   that.   ❞   Or   maybe   she   had   been   the   one   to   feel   it   all   by   herself,   while   they   discussed   things   that   no   one   had   really   taken   their   time   to   discuss   with   her.   At   least,   not   on   a   first   instance.   Usually,   the   things   that   Jia   had   talked   to   Seojun   had   been   things   she   would   have   usually   discussed   much   later   on   with   people.   ❝   Now   you’re   standing   there,   dismissing   me   like   some   sort   of   stray   dog?   I   am   not   a   stray   dog.   You   don’t   get   to   dismiss   me.   ❞   And   yet,   Jia   seemed   to   have   been   having   an   argument   with   herself   in   the   middle   of   the   street,   from   the   way   her   legs   kept   making   her   come   and   go.   As   if   staying   in   Seojun’s   presence   was   a   problem   in   itself. 

As   if   she   hadn’t   spent   some   nights   about   the   way   she   had   been   completely   stripped   off   any   sort   of   armor   that   night.   Of   how   her tongue had mapped out his body as if navigating uncharted waters, how his name escaped her lips in needy moans, like begging for a release she'd been holding onto for a while, like how she’d   remained   with   him   still   inside   her after having had a mind-blowing round of sex,   and   her   lips   had   found   solace   in   the   warmth   of   his   neck as he grew soft inside her warmth,   of   how   she   had   felt   the   surge   of   energy   emanating   from   their   bodies   in   ways   she   hadn’t   felt   in   so   long.

[ofmoonlightx]

It   wasn't   that   he   could   forget.   If   anything,   the   memory   remained   entirely   too   clear.   The   difference   was   that,   until   now,   Seojun   had   simply   chosen   not   to   bring   it   to   the   forefront   of   his   mind.   Certain   things   were   easier   left   untouched.   Filed   away.   Unexamined.   He   had   spent   years   mastering   that   skill.   He   would   never   admit   it   aloud,   but   coming   face-to-face   with   someone   who   had   only   been   meant   to   exist   for   a   single   night   was   not   something   he   had   anticipated.   They   had   both   understood   that.   At   least,   he   had.   One   night.   No   reason   to   ever   see   one   another   again.   And   yet   here   Jia   stood.

The   unfortunate   thing   about   memory   was   how   quickly   it   resurfaced   when   given   the   opportunity.   As   Seojun   looked   at   her   now,   fragments   of   that   night   returned   with   irritating   ease.   Not   enough   to   distract   him,   but   enough   to   remind   him.   The   feeling   itself   remained   unfamiliar.   Foreign.   His   logical   mind   immediately   attempted   to   categorize   it.   Chemistry.   Recognition.   A   simple   biological   response.   The   explanation   should   have   satisfied   him.   It   didn't.   Because   Seojun   knew   himself   well   enough   to   understand   he   did   not   make   decisions   based   solely   on   chemical   reactions.   He   certainly   did   not   share   his   bed   with   someone   because   of   one.   His   head   tilted   slightly   as   Jia   spoke,   a   silent   indication   that   he   was   listening.   Then   she   stopped.   Mid-thought.   The   unfinished   sentence   lingered   between   them.   Most   days,   he   would   have   ignored   it   entirely.   People   abandoned   their   own   points   all   the   time.   It   was   hardly   his   responsibility   to   complete   them.   Yet   for   some   reason,   this   one   bothered   him.   Perhaps   because   it   had   clearly   bothered   her   first.   Or   perhaps   because   now   he   wanted   to   know   what   she   had   been   about   to   say.

Neither   possibility   pleased   him.

“Like   the   world   revolves   around   me?”   Seojun   repeated.   A   measured   breath   left   him   as   he   shook   his   head   once.   The   suggestion   itself   sounded   ridiculous.   His   gaze   remained   fixed   on   her   for   a   long   moment   afterward,   thoughtful   rather   than   offended.   If   anything,   he   appeared   to   be   examining   the   statement   itself,   trying   to   determine   how   she   had   arrived   at   such   a   conclusion.   Before   he   could   formulate   a   response,   another   quiet   exhale   left   him.   The   closest   thing   Seojun   offered   to   visible   annoyance.   Something   within   him   wanted   to   dismiss   the   comment   entirely.   Another   part   wanted   to   rebut   it.   An   unfortunate   contradiction.   His   mouth   opened   slightly   as   if   preparing   to   respond.   Unfortunately   for   him,   Jia   spoke   first.

Seojun.

Even   hearing   his   name   was   enough   to   unsettle   him.   It   was   an   ordinary   thing,   really.   People   addressed   him   by   name   every   day.   Colleagues,   strangers,   informant---it   was   simply   how   the   world   referred   to   him.   Nothing   more.   Yet   hearing   it   from   her   was   different.   A   cold   sensation   crawled   down   the   back   of   his   spine   before   he   could   stop   it,   subtle   but   impossible   to   ignore.   Then   came   the   memory.   Uninvited.   Persistent.   Seojun,   the   same   name,   yet   spoken   in   a   way   his   mind   had   not   forgotten.   softer.   closer.   Laced   with   something   that   made   the   recollection   far   more   vivid   than   he   would   have   liked.   The   sound   of   it   resurfaced   with   irritating   clarity,   and   for   a   brief   moment   he   found   himself   staring   at   nothing   at   all.   His   jaw   tightened.   Damn   his   memory.   A   slow   blink   followed   as   he   forced   the   thought   aside,   dragging   himself   back   into   the   present.   Jia   wanted   to   leave.   Fine.   He   wasn't   going   to   stop   her.   What   puzzled   him   more   was   the   anger.   Why?   What   exactly   was   there   left   to   prove?   A   year   had   passed.

One   night.   One   decision.

One   memory   that   neither   of   them   seemed   particularly   capable   of   forgetting.   And   yet   here   they   were.   Seojun   remained   silent.   There   was   little   value   in   pursuing   an   argument   neither   of   them   appeared   willing   to   define.   Whatever   frustration   lingered   between   them   belonged   to   something   far   older   than   this   conversation.   His   gaze   followed   her   briefly   as   she   turned   away.   Then,   with   a   measured   breath,   he   looked   elsewhere.   The   conversation   was   over.   Or   at   least,   that   was   what   he   told   himself.   Adjusting   his   course,   Seojun   resumed   walking   toward   his   original   destination,   every   bit   as   composed   as   before.   Only   now   his   thoughts   were   considerably   less   cooperative   than   they   had   been   a   few   moments   ago.

He   should   have   expected   this,   and   then   again,   he   didn't.   one,   she   was   challenging   him,   by   invading   his   personal   space.   To   say   he   was   surprised   was   an   under   statement.   Had   she   been   someone   he   was   truly   dismissing,   the   conversation   would   have   been   over   the   minute   it   began.   "If   that   is   your   definition   of   being   dismissive,   a   poor   job   considering   you've   returned.   Jia."   there,   he   acknowledge   that   he   knew   ---remembered   her.   Then   the   next   set   of   words,   felt   like   cold   water   poured   over   his   face,   by   her   candor,   and   then   bringing   the   memory   back   up.   'I   did   something   with   my   tongue   and   you   felt   something'   .The   Audacity.   Then   it   clicked,   she   wanted   validation?   and   then   he   thought   about   it   more.   The   anger,   was   because   he   didn't   agree?   he   released   a   humorless   laugh,   like   he   couldn't   believe   this   is   where   the   conversation   led.   "What?"   he   blinked,   again   processing   all   of   this.   when   did   this   become   that   conversation   or   even   up   for   discussion.

“In   the   five   minutes   since   you   stepped   into   the   path   I   was   already   walking,”   Seojun   began,   his   voice   even,   measured   as   always,   “at   what   point   did   I   give   you   the   impression   that   was   a   subject   worth   bringing   up?”   His   gaze   settled   on   her,   steady   and   unreadable.   “Better   yet,”   he   continued   after   a   brief   pause,   “what   exactly   did   you   expect   to   accomplish   by   mentioning   it?”   A   quiet   breath   left   him   through   his   nose,   somewhere   between   disbelief   and   mild   annoyance.   His   head   tilted   slightly.   She   went   on   talking   about   a   stray   dog,   and   his   mind   could   only   handle   one   topic   at   a   time,   and   comparing   herself   to   a   stray   dog?   far   from   it.   "a   dog,   really?"   and   he   shook   his   head.   They   were   frustrating   him   because   of   this   emotional   rollercoaster   and   he   didn't   want   to   be   on   this   ride.

"From   where   I'm   standing,   you   introduced   the   topic,   became   irritated   by   it,   and   now   appear   intent   on   blaming   me   for   the   conversation   that   followed.”

[ofmoonlightx]

SUMMER FESTIVAL || EVENT 002

Attending with: no one.

[ofmoonlightx]

SUMMER FESTIVAL || EVENT 002

Attending with : her besties

[ofmoonlightx]

SUMMER FESTIVAL || EVENT 002

Attending with: Yasemin Durmaz @aqu4regia

[ofmoonlightx]

SUMMER FESTIVAL || EVENT 002

Attending with: Ryker Herrera @wrldbrns

[narcobarbies]

MADELYN CLINE For Tommy Hilfiger

[velourhush]

the shovel landed near the edge of giuliana’s shoe with a soft thud against the sand. for a moment, she simply looked down at it. then at the child attached to it. small. dark-eyed. entirely unconcerned with the chaos she’d accidentally launched into a stranger’s path. a dangerous kind of familiar. slowly, giuliana bent to retrieve the toy, the sleeves of her cream knit cardigan slipping slightly down elegant wrists as ocean wind curled loose strands of dark hair around her face. she handed it back easily enough, gaze lifting toward arisa afterward. and paused. recognition clicked into place almost immediately. not because they knew each other well. because yujin park had looked at this child like men only looked at things they would kill for. the memory surfaced uninvited — playground lights, luna’s tiny hands in the sand while yujin stood watch like the world itself owed him paranoia. and now here. the same eyes. not yujin’s exactly. hers. but close enough. giuliana’s expression gave nothing away. “don’t apologize,” she said smoothly, voice softened slightly by the sound of the waves nearby. “i think i survived the attack.” the faintest curve touched her mouth as she glanced toward luna again. “though her throwing arm is concerningly good for someone her size.” her attention returned to arisa after a beat, more observant now than casual. she noticed things automatically — the protective positioning near the blanket, the way arisa tracked luna even while speaking, the exhaustion sitting subtly beneath composure. mother exhaustion. the sort that settled into bone. “cute kid,” giuliana said quietly. a pause. then, deliberate. “i’ve seen her before.” not accusatory. worse, maybe. certain.

[ofmoonlightx]

As Arisa reached to grab the shovel from the other, she couldn't help but apologize. For all she knew it could have struck her. Arisa nodded nonetheless, she wouldn't press on the matter if the other stated she was okay. "that is something that is surprising." she looked over at Luna. maybe a sign that she had a hidden skill yet to be fully developed. Taking the shovel she brought it back to Luna, watching as her daughter smiled when it was returned. The sound of the waves were soothing, however, it wasn't quite soothing her in the moment.

cute kid. I've seen her before.

Arisa didn't know why a cold chill sudden ran down her spine. It wasn't the compliment, it was the delivery of the last sentence. No doubt, recognition. Arisa thought back to the play dates she had with Luna, surely people have seen her yes. But she's never meet this woman before. "You have?" she was taken aback. "Where? I don't believe I've met you."

[cstlavietes]

i've been looking for you. a small yet melancholic smile falls to his face. somehow he just knew she was. but he didn't want her to, not when she would have been disappointed with the find. he wasn't ready then. " you weren't gonna find me, " he confesses. " i changed my name shortly after-" he shakes his head, shaking the memory out of his head. " well, you know. " after he was no longer part of the nantasri family. but like hell if that meant he would have been forced to see arisa as anything but his sister. she would be forever his sister until his dying breath and it was still his responsibility to make sure she got to live the life she deserved.

" พี่ไม่เคยทิ้งน้องไปเลยนะ. " he says softly as he holds onto her hug tighter before letting go, a relieved sigh. so much time had passed, where do you begin to start? " how have you been? all these years? "

[ofmoonlightx]

She frowned, he had changed his name? she thought about it for a moment. did he think their father would find him? should she have changed hers? "Should I have changed mine?" she questioned out loud. would that have been the smarter thing to do? especially knowing the kind of person their father was. "but you're here now." and she felt whole again, like the piece of her, the bond and relationship they shared. It was put back together. When she needed him the most.

Smiling as he spoke in a language that they knew well, she always did when they were younger. "คุณคงไม่ทำหรอก ฉันรู้ดี" (you wouldn't do that, I know you wouldn't.) how had she been....that was a loaded question. "I should probably start with the biggest news." she didn't know how he was going to react. "I have a two year old daughter." she looked up at him as she said this slowly "Her name is Luna." she pulled up a picture on her phone "you're an uncle."

[aqu4regia]

The   way   their   hands   clutched   at   their   heart   at   Lucia’s   words,   even   brought   a   smirk   to   Jia’s   lips.   It   was   funny   how   Lucia   operated.   She   seemed   to   be   this   happy-go-lucky   who   had   a   really   dark   side.   Like   a   sweetheart   who   also   enjoyed   dismembering   people.   And   as   hot   as   that   was,   it   was   also   terrifying,   so   maybe   that   was   why   Jia   ended   up   attracted   to   the   blonde   in   the   first   place.   ❝   Go   ahead   and   break   my   heart   like   that,   gorgeous.   ❞   The   short-haired   brunette   teased,   keeping   the   good   humor   they   usually   kept   around   the   ones   who   didn’t   annoy   them.   But   then   again,   Jia   was   really   good   at   pretending   nothing   got   to   them,   deflecting   things   with   humor,   detachment   and   crude   words.   Their   mother   told   them   once   that   they   cursed   like   a   drunk   sailor   in   heat,   and   that   was   not   something   most   kids   Jia’s   age   would   hear.  But   then   again…   Jia   wasn’t   most   people,   were   they?   Who   else   could   say   they’ve   killed   their   father   at   fourteen   and   still   seemed   to   have   a   good   grasp   of   things?   Did   they   have   a   good   grasp? ❝   I   got   her.   ❞   Jia   shifted   their   gaze   from   Lucia’s,   a   temptive   smirk   toying   on   their   fleshy   lips   as   they   said   that   to   the   bartender   and   then,   approached   their   phone   to   the   card   machine.   Once   Luce’s   drink   had   been   paid   for,   Jia   continued.   ❝   I   think   I’m   more   of   an   observer   than   a   dancer.   I   wouldn’t   say   no   to   a   private   dance   from   you   though.   ❞   The   corners   of   their   lips   tugged   up.   Somewhere   between   being   a   leggy   teenager   and   now,   Jia   had   managed   not   to be terrible   at   flirting. 

[ofmoonlightx]

Looks   weren't   everything,   and   certainly   did   not   paint   a   pretty   picture,   after   it   was   a   mask   right?   to   take   off   at   night.   Lucia   didn't   have   that   problem,   she   didn't   doll   herself   up   to   gain   attention   or   attract   it.   She   let   people   see   the   kind   of   person   she   was   by   her   personality.   "straight   for   the   heart   I   see,   see   my   aim   was   good."   she   teased.   Oh,   it   was   bright,   bubbly   even,   but   cross   her   and   she's   your   worst   nightmare.   She   cleaned   up   bodies   for   a   living.   That   alone   spoke   volumes,   there   was   a   feisty   side   to   lucia.   not   many   got   to   see.   it   sparked   when   she   was   either   upset,   or   you   crossed   a   line.   that   made   her   unpredictable   at   times.   that   could   also   be   attractive   to   most.   why   jia   decided   to   take   a   shot,   flirt   even,   was   beyond   the   blonde.   but   it   was   a   good   time,   still   had   the   blonde   smiling.

an   appreciative   nod   was   directed   at   Jia   as   she   paid   for   the   drink   and   she   motioned   to   sit   by   them.   "what,   you   saying   you   can't   dance?"   she   smiled.   she   couldn't   help   the   light   chuckle   at   the   private   dance   comment.   "I   thought   you   moved   just   fine."   she   took   a   sip   of   her   drink   as   they   settled   their   gaze   on   them.   "but   let's   add   a   little   music,   if   you're   up   for   it."   she   gestured   to   the   dance   floor.

[wrldbrns]

strangely, dulce did feel something for seojun, resent had never once crossed her mind. perhaps because she understood, in her own way, that men like seojun were not built inside tenderness first. they were shaped by caution. by discipline. by learning how to stand at a distance from the world long before the world ever had the chance to wound them properly. he had many important things to do, tasks to finish, yet somewhere in the mix, somehow, for whatever reason, seojun had taken on becoming her bodyguard. her father trusted him with her protection, something he didn't even trust himself with at times.

there was something almost unbearably intimate about realizing how much of her life he had carried quietly in his memory. her fingers tightened faintly around the strap of her bag without her noticing at first, knuckles going still as the thought settled deeper. the cafés she lingered in too long after closing. the routes she walked when she could not sleep. the tiny habits she performed absentmindedly when she believed herself alone. all this time, he had existed like a shadow stitched carefully into the seams of her days, not just beside them, but moving with them. the realization ached softly beneath her ribs in a way she couldn’t immediately name, like something inside her had been quietly rewritten without permission.

had he seen her arrive to rift valley? had he seen her cry silently to herself? did he know the way she broke when no one was supposed to see or did he look away?

his comment about becoming a reminder instead pulled the faintest smile from her, delicate and tired around the edges but real all the same. “perhaps,” dulce responds gently, dark eyes lifting toward him again. there was warmth beneath the teasing now, something quieter beginning to unfurl between them where uncertainty had once sat. “though i suppose shadows are difficult things to escape once they decide they belong somewhere.”

when he allowed her silence to search him, dulce found herself doing exactly that. studying him carefully, almost reverently now, like she was trying to make sense of all the missing pieces at once. her gaze lingered a fraction too long, then broke for a heartbeat as if she’d forgotten she was supposed to look away normally. it was strange seeing him standing fully before her instead of existing only at the edges of crowded rooms and fractured memories. stranger still that she did not feel afraid. if anything, the grief inside her sharpened instead, because suddenly she could see how close he had always been without ever truly allowing himself to stay.

then came the mention of the deaths. the danger. the certainty in his voice when he spoke about her wellbeing. something inside her quieted at the sound of it, not because the fear disappeared, but because he spoke as though protecting her had long since stopped being obligation and become instinct instead.

dulce held his gaze for a long moment after that, dark eyes softer now. her breath caught slightly before she even realized it, like her body had reacted before her thoughts caught up.

“why?” she asked at last, her voice barely above a murmur. "in truth, i am not yours to protect anymore. why should it matter to you what happens to me and what doesn't?"

[ofmoonlightx]

Her movement was subtle, but Seojun noticed it immediately. His gaze lowered briefly toward the way her hand tightened around the strap of her bag before returning to her face once more. A small gesture. Instinctive. Controlled. Whatever she was feeling in that moment--uncertainty, caution, confusion--he could hardly fault her for it. He had not expected warmth upon revealing himself. Truthfully, he had not expected much of anything at all.

This was not an introduction meant to comfort her. It was simply information. He was here. And despite her father’s death, that fact had not changed.

Seojun assessed her once again in the quiet that followed, noting the way realization slowly settled behind her eyes. She was beginning to understand now---that he had not suddenly appeared out of nowhere. He had been here the entire time, lingering quietly at the edges of her life unseen. Watching. Protecting. Waiting.

The distinction between work and personal attachment had always remained clear to him. Logic separated easily from emotion. Right from wrong. Whatever private moments Dulce had carved out for herself, Seojun allowed them to remain untouched. There were lines he refused to cross unnecessarily. Boundaries that kept assignments professional rather than dangerous in ways they should never become.

Which was why the warmth in her eyes unsettled him more than hostility ever could. He was accustomed to anger. Fear. Distrust. Eyes sharpened by vengeance or suspicion whenever they settled on him. Those reactions made sense. They were expected. But Dulce looked at him gently. And somehow, that felt far more dangerous.

Belong somewhere.

The thought lingered briefly before he dismissed it almost immediately. Belonging implied permanence, and Seojun had never allowed himself to believe in such things. There was only movement. Purpose. Passing through one assignment after another until the final objective was complete. Corruption. Power. The kind of rot that had existed within families like his for far too long.

Including his own.

why?

To Seojun, the matter felt painfully simple. Had she truly not considered what might have happened otherwise? People were dying in this town with increasing frequency, and the unfortunate reality was that anyone could become the next victim if they were placed in the wrong situation at the wrong time. Dulce was vulnerable whether she realized it or not. Her circumstances alone guaranteed attention she did not fully understand. And beyond that--her profession made her even more exposed.

He had been assigned to watch over her. He had kept his word.

“Who decided my job was finished?” Seojun asked calmly, though there was a firmer edge beneath his voice now. Not anger. Certainty. His gaze remained fixed on her, unwavering in the quiet intensity he carried so naturally. “Why would I allow anyone to harm you?” he continued, the question leaving him as though the very suggestion itself lacked reason. To him, it did. Protecting her had never been temporary simply because circumstances changed. If anything, recent events only reinforced why he remained close.

[aqu4regia]

If   there   was   someone   Jia   didn’t   know   how   the   fuck   she   had   ended   up   in   bed   with,   that   someone   was   Seojun.   The   federal   agent   and   the   hacker   couldn’t   be   any   more   different   from   one   another,   and   yet,   they   managed   to   work   out   pretty   well   in   bed.   In   between   groans,   grunts,   hair   pulls,   bites   and   everything   that   kept   them   both   from   speaking   dumb   things   to   one   another,   they   were   able   to   agree   on   something.    ❝   I   could.   ❞   The   brunette   nodded,   her   lips   sticking   out   in   a   small   pout,   granting   him   that   one.   ❝   But   where’s   the   fun   in   that? ❞   Both   her   hands   moved   behind   her   back   and   Jia   held   onto   on   of   her   wrists,   leaning   forward   to   smirk   at   Seojun’s   direction.   If   she   could   make   a   federal   agent’s   life   a   living   hell,   even   if   it   were   by   pissing   them   off   with   her   snarky   remarks   and   annoying   attitude,   then   so   be   it.   Jia   had   never   cared   much   about   being   liked   anyways.  Ever   so   serious.   Like   he   didn’t   know   how   to   function   if   a   smile   ended   up   on   his   lips   or   something.   ❝   Oh,   I   wouldn’t   know.   Maybe   we   can   talk   about   you   being   a   cranky   ass   bitch   and   making   it   everyone’s   problem.   I   mean…   telling   others   to   move   along? ❞

[ofmoonlightx]

Some   nights   were   meant   to   be   remembered.   Others   found   themselves   buried   somewhere   in   the   back   of   the   mind,   sealed   away   behind   doors   better   left   unopened.   There   had   been   one   such   night.   From   the   outside   looking   in,   it   would   have   appeared   absurd.   If   the   two   of   them   walked   into   a   bar   together,   sat   beside   one   another,   shared   a   conversation,   most   people   would   have   assumed   they   had   nothing   in   common.   They   were   opposites   in   nearly   every   measurable   way.   And   yet   they   had   walked   through   the   same   door.   Shared   the   same   space.   The   same   bed.   Then   parted   without   expectation.   “To   not   hear?”   Seojun   repeated,   his   brow   lifting   slightly.   “Not   at   all.”   The   answer   came   as   though   the   suggestion   itself   was   unreasonable.   Then   again,   there   was   little   entertainment   to   be   found   in   any   of   this.   Fun   had   always   felt   like   a   foreign   concept   to   him,   something   other   people   pursued   while   he   occupied   himself   with   more   practical   matters.

His   gaze   settled   on   the   smirk   directed   his   way.   A   reaction.   That   was   what   she   wanted,   wasn't   it?   The   faintest   trace   of   irritation   crossed   his   features   before   disappearing   almost   immediately.   Subtle   enough   that   most   people   would   have   missed   it   entirely.   She   had   quite   the   nerve.   “And   yet,”   he   replied   smoothly,   turning   his   attention   fully   back   toward   her,   “you   are   the   one   who   appears   bothered.”   His   expression   remained   composed,   unreadable   as   ever.   "All   I   have   heard   thus   far,”   he   continued   calmly,   “is   complaint   after   complaint.”   A   slight   tilt   of   his   head   followed.   “Which   is   interesting,   considering   I   was   under   the   impression   I   was   the   inconvenience.”

[cstlavietes]

he shrugs as she calls the bullshit he just handed her on a platter. it wasn't his fault if she wasn't happy with the outcome. " you wanted an answer and i gave you one. " he deemed it as simple as that. a question that only had two possible outcomes and he choose the lesser one that'd sound slightly better and neither of them he personally liked but he had to choose.

" attached ... okay. " he nods as if sure, he'll go along with that, if that's what she wants to believe from him. he quirks a brow at her suggestion, a few words of hers popping into his head. " — didn't you threaten to rip it to shreds not that long ago? " yes, he distinctly remembers the threat word for word: and if you're looking to lose that, i rip it to shreds. he had a pretty damn good memory despite the willful diligence of the opposite. " oh you're good. unfortunately, you want it off, do it yourself since it's becoming more obvious you miss me without one the longer this conversation goes on— it almost sounds like i wasn't the attached one. "

he'll admit, it was his fault more than hers for expecting a lighter in her hand instead of getting flicked off but he'll blame it on the few hours passed now without lighting one for falling for it this time. he thinks for a moment as she does get a soft chuckle out of him, typical lucia but it was time to approach a different tactic, a more classic one. asking politely, words that might suade her. god nicotine cravings sucked. " lucia. " he takes in a breath as he dreads the next part. " can i have the lighter? please. "

[ofmoonlightx]

"Terrible choice of words, do better next time." she stated as she looked over at him. He knew he could have said it, or better yet, explained it. But Tyler was not one to give detail, he tells you once, and you figure out the rest. Lucky for her, she spoke his language. Asshole was not very hard to understand.

He really did know how to press her buttons or in this case, antagonize her. Anyone on the outside in would have clocked him right there. But Lucia wasn't anyone. She could read Tyler, how? simple. Same side of a coin. He was playing with fire, and she was sure he wanted to get burned. Lucia caught the hem of his jacket between her fingers, giving it a small tug---just enough to pull his attention back toward her without risking the garment itself. Her grin appeared immediately once she had it, bright and entirely too pleased with herself.

“Oh?” she mused, lifting a brow. “Off it myself, you say?” The challenge in her voice was obvious. She stepped a fraction closer, close enough that the space between them felt more intentional than accidental. Her free hand drifted over the front of his jacket, tracing the embroidered design with exaggerated concentration as though she were carefully inspecting a priceless work of art. “Hm,” she hummed thoughtfully. “And here I thought this was a very bold invitation.” Her fingertips followed the pattern across the fabric before returning upward, eventually flattening her palm lightly against his chest. The gesture was playful more than anything, accompanied by the unmistakable sparkle of mischief in her eyes. She would continue to give the impression she was going to do something, then the complete opposite.

Can I have the lighter? please.

oh he was smooth. too smooth. She was taken aback by the sudden change in his tone. For one, it was not rough, a slight gentle tone. She was currently processing for a minute before she tilted her head. If he was going to throw her for a loop. she would do the same. She moved her hand up, this time rest on his cheek. She let herself appear soft for a second. "Tyler." she stated in the same soft tone.

a brief pause.

From the outside, it might have appeared as though she was about to kiss him. The distance disappeared slowly, deliberately, her grin fading into something far more unreadable as she drew closer. Close enough for the moment to linger. Close enough to make someone wonder. And then, at the last second, she turned her head. Her lips never touched him. Instead, she leaned toward his ear, lowering her voice until it became little more than a whisper. "No." she then chuckled as she leaned back to look at him. "it's not actually with me." what she had showed him earlier was just a holder for it. "but maybe if you say please again. I may get it for you."

[ofmoonlightx]

After the sun sets, it's consumed in darkness || self para

“The dead rarely concern me. It is the living standing around pretending innocence that deserve closer attention.”

TW: mentions of death, blood, wounds.

Seojun had only recently gone off shift, though “off” was a generous term considering he had spent the last several hours buried in files regarding the recent deaths surrounding the town. Patterns. Timelines. Victims. He had learned long ago that violence always left traces behind no matter how carefully people attempted to conceal them. Alongside the investigations, there had also been his encounters with members of the Santoro family. Nothing substantial enough to formally raise concern within the precinct, but enough to remain attentive. One thing Seojun understood well about organized crime was that they rarely operated on the same level as everyone else. They stayed several steps ahead whenever possible. Anticipating that was precisely what made him effective in this line of work.

As for his secondary assignment, Seojun still maintained careful watch over Dulce. His route naturally shifted in the direction of her home. Security cameras remained positioned exactly where he wanted them, each connected to systems he monitored personally. Technology made surveillance effortless these days. Efficient. Quiet. When he could not physically remain near her, he ensured there was always something watching in his place.

Nothing unusual appeared around her home.

And after briefly stopping near her workplace long enough to confirm she was still there, the faint unease lingering within him settled just enough to be ignored.

For now.

His apartment sat only a short distance from the precinct, though reaching it required cutting through the park. As Seojun walked the path, he reverted naturally into observation. It was instinct at this point. He studied people silently--the way they moved, how they interacted, where their attention lingered. Human behavior often revealed more than words ever could. Posture alone could expose confidence, fear, aggression, insecurity. Most people searched instinctively for vulnerability in others. Someone smaller. Easier to overpower. Easier to intimidate. Seojun had never belonged within the category of victim. He was the kind of man people feared once they realized they had miscalculated him.

The vibration of his phone briefly interrupted his thoughts. Pulling it from his pocket, his gaze lowered toward the message on the screen. Hani, unsurprisingly. At this point, he was beginning to suspect she found genuine enjoyment in testing his patience. Earlier, he had sent her a reminder to eat something other than coffee for once in her life. As he continued down the path, a scream suddenly split through the night. Seojun stopped immediately.

It was not the voice itself he recognized but the sound. The pitch. The sharpness within it. Certain sounds embedded themselves permanently into memory after enough exposure, and that particular sound belonged to violence. Fear. The exact moment something terrible had occurred. Strangely, his body reacted faster than thought itself. As though years of conditioning overrode instinct before his mind could fully process it. He had seen countless bodies hit the floor before. Heard the gunfire. Witnessed the aftermath enough times to understand how easily violence reshaped people into something colder. Survival demanded distance. Emotional detachment. Walls thick enough to prevent vulnerability from becoming weakness.

Because weakness was what got people killed.

Memories surfaced in fractured flashes as he moved--the cartel operations, the sound of weapons discharging in enclosed spaces, screams blurring together until they became indistinguishable from one another. Training had taught him to continue functioning regardless of horror standing directly in front of him. So he ran. Without hesitation. He ran toward the sound until he could locate its source.

It appeared he had been too late. Even from a distance, Seojun could already see the two bodies collapsed against the ground. As he approached slowly, his attention sharpened immediately, assessing everything before emotion ever had the chance to interfere. Every detail committed itself to memory automatically--the positioning of the bodies, the blood pattern, disturbed gravel beneath shoes, distance between them. His photographic memory had always served him well within this line of work. It was also a curse. Some things, once witnessed, never truly left you.

His gaze swept the surrounding area carefully, searching for anything else. Signs of struggle. A discarded weapon. Footprints. An escape route. Was the killer still nearby? Had they left something behind in haste? Adrenaline often made people careless after violence. Seojun approached the female first before immediately pulling out his phone and dialing Hani Jeong. “We’ve got a situation,” he stated the moment the call connected. His voice remained firm, controlled, though beneath it lingered restrained anger. He had just missed whoever did this, and now two people were bleeding out in front of him because of it. “Two bodies,” he continued evenly. “One female.” His attention shifted briefly toward the second victim positioned protectively near her. “One male.”

A small nod followed at whatever response Hani provided before Seojun disconnected. He called emergency services immediately afterward, ensuring paramedics were dispatched without delay. If even one life could still be saved tonight, that alone mattered.

The next number he dialed belonged to Zahir Cole. “There’s been another attack,” Seojun informed him without preamble, immediately providing the location and surrounding area. “Female victim. Multiple stab wounds to the lower abdomen. Shallow breathing. Paramedics are on the way.” His gaze lowered once more toward her condition. Barely breathing. Not enough time. He would need to intervene himself until medical personnel arrived. “Male victim,” he continued calmly. “Lower abdominal stab wound. Significant blood loss. Lacerations across the hands consistent with defensive wounds.” A brief pause followed as his eyes moved across the darkness surrounding the scene once more. “another murder,” he concluded quietly. “I’m first on scene.”

Federal agent or detective, perspectives often differed depending on jurisdiction and procedure. Still, mutual understanding existed between people who dedicated their lives to this kind of work. Respect formed naturally through shared experience alone. “You need to head over,” Seojun finished simply before ending the call.

His attention returned toward the male victim afterward. The positioning alone revealed enough. Protection. Even while dying, the man had attempted to shield the woman beneath him. Blood loss suggested he had crawled significant distance despite the severity of his injuries just to reach her. Selfless. Even in death.Seojun’s jaw tightened subtly.

Not from grief. From principle. Innocent blood had been spilled tonight. And that unsettled something dangerous within him.

He called Hani once more moments later. “We’re going to need timelines on everyone tonight,” he stated firmly. If organized crime involvement existed behind this, they needed confirmation quickly. And when matters involved the Mafia, Hani remained one of the few people Seojun trusted enough to speak openly with regarding it.

By the time paramedics arrived, the scene erupted into controlled chaos. Medical personnel moved quickly toward the female victim, establishing IV access while stabilizing her for transport into the ambulance. Seojun answered procedural questions automatically, efficiently, though his attention continuously drifted back toward the scene itself.

Everything else faded into background noise. sirens. flashing red and blue lights. voices moving around him. none of it held his focus.

Instead, his gaze remained fixed on the blood staining the pavement where life had existed moments earlier. Nearby, spilled mango and strawberries had scattered across the ground, crushed into the concrete beside the crimson spreading outward. Slowly, Seojun lifted his gaze toward the sky. Sunset had disappeared entirely now, consumed by darkness. What an awfully painted picture death had woven tonight. People feared the dead far too often. The living were always worse. And somewhere out there, the person responsible still believed themselves safe.

That mistake would not last long.

-----------------

Mentions : Dulce @wrldbrns, Hani @hanijeong, Zahir @saltandstatic

[xxblackmagicx]

"Right now." part of her knew it was good. she had made it herself. so of course it was going to be good. leaning against the counter, she watched as he took a bite. hearing the reaction, she couldn't help but to smile. "the buns were homemade. made them this morning. and the ground beef, we get it fresh daily." she wasn't like other places that got ground beef that was frozen. that wasn't thalia. she strived to make sure the bar & grill had everything fresh. even right down to the fruits and vegetables they had there. "my dad was the one who taught me how to make a burger like that when i was sixteen." cooking had been something she loved since she was a teen. "one of these days, you'll have to try the cheesecakes i make." a dessert that she also made fresh daily too. the one dessert that always got ordered too.

[ofmoonlightx]

Rhys could tell right away the food was made fresh. There was a difference in the taste--somethin’ real about it that most places seemed to lose nowadays. “Yeah,” he said after another bite, nodding slowly in approval. “I believe it.” He leaned lightly against the counter before adding, “Honestly, more places oughta be doin’ the same thing.” His brow lifted slightly. “Half the premade stuff people serve nowadays barely even tastes like actual food anymore.” He took another sip of the pop afterward, surprisingly enjoyin’ it more than he expected to.

At the mention of her father, Rhys glanced back toward her with a softer look in his eyes. “I bet he’s proud,” he said honestly. “You can tell there’s care behind the way you cook.” And Rhys meant it too. Food made with effort always carried somethin’ extra to it.

Then the second she mentioned dessert, his entire expression shifted. “Now hold on,” he muttered, suddenly lookin’ way more invested in the conversation. “Cheesecake?” A grin spread across his face almost immediately. Rhys had always had a weakness for sweets, and he wasn’t ashamed of it either. “Yeah, alright… now I definitely gotta try it.” He pointed lightly toward her with the burger in hand. “You had me at cheesecake.” A low chuckle followed as he shook his head. “Guess you just earned yourself a loyal customer.” Then he took another bite before pausing mid-chew to glance back over at her. “You eaten yet?”

[hanijeong]

scoffing, hani sat back in her chair, one foot propped up on the seat as she slid low. "yeah, well, you can't really blame me for hoping you'd grow a sense of humor at some fucking point," she muttered, sharp eyes trained on seojun and his blank stare. her stare grew mischievous, then. "maybe i have. you gonna bring me a cup of coffee?"

[ofmoonlightx]

“If humor is what you are expecting from me, I am afraid you will be waiting well into old age,” Seojun replied smoothly, the faintest trace of dry amusement hidden beneath his otherwise composed tone. His gaze settled on them for a brief moment before one brow lifted slightly. “Though perhaps that suits you better,” he added, as if thoughtfully considering the possibility rather than outright insulting her. A quiet tsk left him soon after, his attention drifting briefly toward the coffee in question. “Tell me,” he continued calmly, “are you surviving entirely on liquids now, or was coffee the only thing you considered sufficient for today?” There was something subtly disapproving in the way he said it, though not entirely unkind. “Proper food would likely benefit you more,” Seojun murmured before tilting his head slightly. “So. What exactly are you in the mood for?”