— &. AFTER HOURS. / @saerimm
he’s a creature of habit. it’s what seven years of reckless spontaneity does to a man. tonight, however, was not something he pulled out of thin air. no, tonight was his usual. it’s a typical friday, and that means typical friday nights, which should ( for every twenty something year old with a social life ) consist of typical end of the week havoc. by now his body acts on its own accord. dancing lazily to the loud bass. clutching his red solo cup tight as if it has always belonged there. the whole nine yards. the hexed soju has begun to wear off by now, leaving only a slight buzz in its wake. it’s fine. ( he swears. ) he’s been in worse conditions before. tonight, he can handle himself.
exhibit a: he’s able to walk on his own two feet all the way back to the baek ho dorms in one piece.
exhibit b: this week’s password comes easily in the form of a hushed whisper. the portrait hole swings open. he’s in. simple as that.
something akin to pride swells in his chest as he steps through the entrance and into the common room. for a boy adorned in red and gold, hubris is bound to follow isn’t it? envelope him tight in the sensation. wrap itself around his heart with a firm, strong grip. it was almost too easy. almost. but alas, luck never seemed to be on his side.
he sees the outline of a familiar person in the corner of the room, made only visible by the early morning moonlight. but even that is enough for him to realize how screwed he is. “saerim noona,” he calls out, lips curling into a tight smile. he’s already bracing for the berating that’s soon to come. “you can stop hiding now, i can literally see the top of your head.”
he’s really hoping he’ll be able to charm himself out of this one. after all, he’s done worse, been worse, seen worse. surely she’ll let this one slide, right? probably. ( but with saerim one could never be too sure. )
when she undertook the mantle of being baek ho’s housemaster, she also inherited the responsibilities that came with it. she was sworn in under an oath to protect her charges, to guide them, and aid them should they come to her seeking consul. in just a little under a year was all it took for oh saerim to become attached to her brood of wayward children—though she uses the term children loosely, often making jabs at their recklessness and stupidity, which adults often associated children with. she had been their age once, and can relate to their need for freedom and autonomy, but they lived under yosul’s roof, and as such, should abide by the laws of the land since they partake in the luxuries and amenities at no cost at all. saerim endeavors to teach her students moderation, a word unfit for any baek ho’s vocabulary, but it’s something that should be practiced if they intend to enter wizarding society as civil servants like she had. there were some who were more susceptible to her advice ( the younger students who were much more malleable and easier to influence ) and then there were those who were too hardheaded for her to crack. one student in particular, seo yujun, persisted in testing her patience. he was a student that held promise, but constantly toe the line between abiding by her rules and breaking them. tonight certainly was a testament to that habit of his as curfew had passed hours ago, yet there was no hide nor hair of the seventh year passing through her wards, alerting her of his return. so she’s content to stew in a dark corner of the common room, lying in wait.
she needn’t wait too long for as she contemplates slumber, the wards she had put in place around baek ho’s common room ripple, recognizing the magical signature and permitting entrance. the room was blanketed in darkness, as had been saerim’s intention, so she waits for him to notice her, for him to realize he was not as slick as he thought he was. the nonchalant way he greets her wold have been off-putting if she were not more concerned about his whereabouts and reasons for staying out nearly past curfew. the woman doesn’t dignify him with a response as she stands, stepping out of the shadows with a look of consternation etched onto her countenance. years of observation granted her the ability to come to her own conclusions by taking in the appearance, noting their body language and the smells wafting off of captives held in custody. it taught her how to pick out the innocent, and the guilty, one of which yujun was, and it was a skill she used now to discern where he had been since he certainly wouldn’t tell her—she was too tired to pull teeth and interrogate him, so she’s content to make her assumptions. her heightened sense of smell told her most of the story: he smelled of cheap soju and smoke ( a bar ? perhaps a party ? ) the cloud of varying aromas also tells her he’d been in a crowd, compressed against other bodies where odors could stick to his clothes and skin. she’s made her deductions and comes to the conclusion that, in typical baek ho fashion, was doing something she wouldn’t have condoned.
“glad to see you’ve made it back in one piece, seo,” saerim murmurs, keeping her voice controlled lest she wakes the entirety of their house with a shrill lecture. “i’m glad to know you think the rules i enforce are a joke—but i think you’re the only one who finds them funny, since you’re the only one who doesn’t follow them. which, i think, is the real joke here, don’t you think ?”
