#*ft: eunjae

[ncwonil]

All the texts thnks

✆ morning / past

( 9:30 → dr. yoon ) i’m busy as fuuuuck lol gonna reschedule 

✉ wasn’t sent

(  DRAFTS → dr. yoon ) you’re trying to find shit that isn’t there

☎ rushed / past

( 9:05 → dr. yoon ) i’m omw

⁇ $ drunk, hateful / past 

( 12:18 → dr. yoon ) you….loko like a mouuse w buck teeht( 12:18 → dr. yoon ) get that fixed broooo 

✿ suggestive / past

( 9:34 → dr. yoon ) check on it yourself man  

ø ✘late night, accidental / past

( 1:03 → dr. yoon ) i’m shooting up( 1:03 → dr. yoon ) for your information an assigned target, not heroin 

# random / past 

( 11:05 → dr. yoon ) cool 

@ scared / past 

( 10:30 → dr. yoon ) did your secretary find an old gold chain in the lobby by any chance? might’ve left it there on accident. 

& loving / past

( 9:45 → dr. yoon ) moon pies...really cannot live without them honest to god

% curious / past

( 8:27 → dr. yoon ) unconventional aka just too dumb to follow the norm right

ツ excited / past

( 11:15 → dr. yoon ) last appointment today!

♀ heartbreaking / past 

( 11:16 → dr. yoon ) it be like that sometimes...got no other choice but to deal with it 

[ncwonil]

FLY ON THE WALL

@nceunjae

2044: RELOADED

“what have ya got here...” he stoops down for a toy engine painted a brilliant flame red standing on the tracks. the room is chock-ful of things you’d find in a school playroom—early elementary nostalgia in everything soft and plushy and pastel-y. dark brown eyes follow the trail of crayoned butterflies on the wall before they land back onto dr. yoon’s face. 

“oh i won’t steal, doc. if that’s what you were wondering.” 

he smiles. back down the train goes. 

big boys like him have big boy places and questions to answer to. without delay, he follows the man’s path from the kid’s room to his office. the whole time, wonil’s whistling, some abstract, yellow-bright and chirpy tune like he's out on a casual morning walk and not about to dive into the moments he had to shoot a man cold for the first time in his life. 

his hand runs over the arm of the chair. “this real leather?” when there’s no response, wonil takes it as a cue to sit back and relax, one leg angled out. “hope we won’t take too long, my sweetheart is waiting for me after this.” which is only half the truth: his enforcer’s out, but on the other side of town, and you can bet all the money in the world she’s not sitting idle for a damn dog.

“so uh...how d’we start?”