#caehoseok

[caeryu-blog]

laurel and rosemary

LAUREL: If your character could be remembered for one thing, what would it be?

Probably how little he cares for anything. Or how fickle he is? He is indescribably fickle - his moods turn on a dime and there’s little rhyme or reason to anything he does. He just does whatever he feels like, whatever would afford him the most amusement, the most interest. You see, he’s always so incredibly bored - he’d be willing to do a lot to relieve that. 

ROSEMARY: What is something your character will always remember?

They say that scent can wrap incredibly tightly along with a memory - so much so that a single hint of it can bring a rush of images to your mind, otherwise unprompted. Ryu will never forget those smells - spilled wine and cigarette ash for one, gasoline and burning rubber the other. 

[caejimin-blog]

proceed to party | pjm & jhs

caehoseok

The sounds of repetitive bass lines filled Jimin’s ears as he sat awkwardly on the couch. Cradling the cup that had been shoved into his hands the moment he had walked into the apartment, which had now become slightly warm much to Jimin’s displeasure, he wondered to himself how he had gotten here in the first place. Of course, he was never one to pass up the opportunity for a chance to socialise and have fun at a good party, but his excitement had soon dwindled down to the point of borderline apathy; there was no one who he particularly wanted to talk to, and he probably could have left the party a while ago but had stayed just in case things took a turn for the better.

At least some people are enjoying themselves, Jimin thought as he glanced at the couple sitting next to him, who seemed determined to devour each other’s faces, out of the corner of his eye.  With a sigh, his thoughts drifted to the things he’d much rather be doing, such as watching his favourite TV shows in bed where he wouldn’t be surrounded by obnoxiously loud drunk people.  Deciding to take a sip of his drink, Jimin diverted his attention to the makeshift dance floor that had now formed in front of him. As much as he loved dancing, all he wanted to do at that moment was go back to his room.  “If something amazing doesn’t happen in the next five minutes, then I’ll go home.” He promised himself, hugging his knees to his chest before resting his chin against them. Hopefully some magical force would work in his favour and save him from his ever increasing boredom.