pink and white / @sunanchr
there’s an expected sense of quiet in the air that comes hand in hand with the early morning, muffled conversations in the glamping tents and the waves against the shore being the only audible noises in the dark. yet there’s a certain irony in the way that the clock on his phone reads 04:02AM in bright, white numbers, as though it’s reminding him that he should be asleep right now, but hansol thinks this is the most awake he’s ever felt for a long time.
from here on the shore, he can barely tell the difference between where the sky ends and where the sea begins, had it not been for the faint glow of the moon luminating the ill-defined ripples of the water, a picturesque photo definition of the word serenity. it’s too pretty a sight to share alone, especially on a night where hansol wants to be anything other than lonely, and it doesn’t take long for him to decide what he wants to do.
he drops the cigarette and digs it into the ground with the heel of his foot as he makes his way back inside the tent, pushing the hood of his jacket down. it’s easy to spot him. hansol thinks it’s obvious how he stands out even against a crowd of people, let alone a tent full of barely fifteen people. sunan’s back is turned to him, and he takes advantage of it to slip behind the other easily, voice low and quiet.
“gotcha.” he murmurs against the other’s ear, in case there are any curious people listening in, grinning as his fingers clasp around sunan’s wrist and turns him around. the cold metal of the other’s cartier bracelet leaves goosebumps against his skin, but hansol doesn’t let go.
“come with me, there’s something i want to show you.”
