& ; @247seulgi
His fingertips have gone numb, drawing patterns on the condensation of his glass. His eyes take surreptious sweeps at the room, an attempt in discretion that ultimately only betrays the churning of his stomach, the restlessness. A quick glance to his right hand, to his ring finger, nail tracing the pale band latched onto the digit.
The restaurant is their usual meeting spot. Taemin avoids the school’s general vicinity to best of his ability, avoids Southeast Side or anywhere that has a Jinri’s fingerprints marked on its walls. It’s low profile, inviting and so terribly busy, cacophonous choruses of chatter and tinking cutlery drowning away any soft whispers that might wander past his lips.
He never dwells too much on the fact he has an usual meeting spot.
He blinks and she’s there, soft eyes and saccharine smiles as usual, and his heart never fails to skip that beat, like he’s thirteen and his fingers are still clean and begging for some filth. He leans forward, all smiles, and takes the kiss she offers, hanging on for a beat too long.
It’s the first time he finds himself on that cliff, caught between dry land and the soft roar of the ocean. The dark waters sloshing under him call his name, and the melody is quite nice. It would be so easy to let himself go, feel as the waves digested him whole.
The thumb he presses against his ring is a reminder to hold onto firm land, the silver anchoring in reality.
“Hey.” The chill he feels on his nape comes out on his tone, gaze evading contact. Quite the greeting, he thinks over a chuckle that lost its way somewhere in his throat. Nevertheless, straightforwardness has always served him best. It's best to avoid the petnames, the softness – the sugar coating. “I have something for you.”
Good news first, as usual.
The guidebook advises never to leave a lady empty-handed. He obeys, word by word, and nudges the box across the table top. His father’s assistant had made the purchase two days ago, the most expensive item in stock, as he has demanded. A necklace in gold, diamond stones glimmering on the charm -- his own sunshine in a bag. It’s sensibly more intimate, more serious, than the usual small endearments he’d dedicated to her in the past, the usual passing token of silly, blind infatuation.
It’s a preamble.