( / * his phone's already in hand. anxiety is a curse when he sees the censor moving, proving that jongin's ready to respond right then and there. he's taking some time, and sehun averts his sleepy, brickwall-like gaze towards the little sunlight that inhabits his room; hurting his eyes. his phone alerts him without warning, and he slowly faces its unmoving screen. he could hear jongin's voice through the words he typed with life, and a smile of mischiefー all on its ownー finds sehun's lips. he pressed the right buttons, he'd like to think. he shuts his phone off into a comatose, letting his arm bounce back against his mattress while the ceiling stares back at him. inhales and exhales, he closes his eyes and reopens them ) .. alright. ( / * is all that he murmurs to himself, sitting up in a swift position to land on the floor. staggers out of his room and remembers not to bump into the wall as it could've been the ninth time he sought an opportunity to bruise his hip. heads for the stairs and into jongin's room. firstly, he stands at the door with his head against the post, then proceeds to disrupt his peace ) get up.