tiger eyes
circa early 2020 with @pgjisung
they’ve been impossibly busy. but that’s what happens when you’re high in demand, when the public is buzzing about cross_over and redux insists on striking while the iron’s hot. which means what, exactly? simple. it means schedule after schedule. it means smiles stretched thin, tightness in the face, back of her eyes burning from fatigue. it means feeling less human as days go by with priorities placed on the image she sells as over’s leader. it means all of that and sparse moments otherwise to breathe. all of that and little time to herself for the things she loves.
things she loves?
well—maybe love is too loaded of a word for it.
things she indulges in is more suited. gratification, at the end of the day, was the goal here. be it a long jog around the neighborhood or otherwise. though, to speak of otherwise we first have to set the scene. to draw notice to today’s main characters: one ko suran and one ban jisung—and between them? a flurry of faces and names suran can’t properly place, but greeted all the same upon stepping foot into the elevator. which, much to her dismay, gradually filled up with every passing floor on the way down.
she resists the urge to sigh, gaze fixated on the screen enclasped in manicured hands. with every additional body, she takes a step to the right, trying her best to avoid bumping into anyone. on/off on/off on/off till she’s stepping on the shoe of another’s, eyes lifting to meet their gaze, apology at the ready. oh? “sorry.” suran mutters, head bowing whilst she takes a step back.
there’s nothing to explain further, nothing to even say further. after all, there’s nothing else between her and ban jisung that warrants it.
save, the way her lips curve, partially impish, knuckles brushing against the side of his thigh when her hand lifts to run through her hair. minute movements barely picked up upon by the busy eyes of others though—that’s the point isn’t it?
