it doesn’t matter which way @eenae goes!
he’s not sure for how long he’d been sitting there, impatiently waiting for her underneath a tree in the park. it had to be the grand park in the zoo, where loud and snotty children ran about and played with each other all over the place. he cast a childish glare at any of them that passed near to see what the problem was, the females either too shy or too curious, and the males, always energetic and up for conversation. after a while they would give in and run away, or they’d just get called over to their parents. just like little pets on two legs. good child, he’d think to himself as a distraction, a chuckle rattling in his throat. he didn’t want to concentrate too much on the–
“no, i’d die! do you want me dead?” the small thorn that is currently still stuck underneath his foot, ever since he’d gotten it and texted her about it about an hour ago. he knows that he shouldn’t have been walking about barefoot in the first place, and he knows that he shouldn’t have been calling for her help in the first place. she were a busy one. but she was the person that came to mind, and his foot hurt so he couldn’t bother to wonder why not. all he ever just wanted was a walk in the park. literally. “you know, i had to sit here and deal with those human midgets over there. one even offered to pull it out for me…” this was the sentence that brought his posture to a sacking position against the tree behind him, as if in defeat from the reliving thought.
how pathetic. the gods must be rolling with laughter in Heaven right now, calling him useless and scraping away any possible consideration of scooping him away from earth. he is a grown ass man, a minor god. yet he still needs help to pull out a small prickle from his foot, since it hurts so much, supposedly. well, it does. gods, mortal bodies are annoyingly sensitive and complicated. “please help me, joy-ya. i’ll buy you a balloon…”
contrary-wise, what fast runner she was, the response to the call for help was a bit slow. it wasn’t because she was uninterested, she’d laid her life to the service of aiding. she was simply technologically challenged. for someone so smart, one could imagine she’d have pick up quick but her eyes were used to a book’s typeface and her hands to the pages they’re inked in. best believe, she tries constantly. these days it only took a literal minute until she’d have sent back a reply. the penny-pincher opts for a bicycle instead of a taxi to conveniently take her to her destination, hence the hour-long travel. as long as it took her to arrive, she was ready with the right tools.
cruel tree! in such an hour, beneath such a dreamy weather… left this daft boy in such a dreary dither. if he hadn’t been in this state, they’d be gliding in full leisure. it was the zoo, after all. bummer! it wasn’t in her plans to be there for the day, though it would have been the first visit which explained the diverted attention and the lack of substance in her advises. she was tempted to ditch him for a stroll with just her and herself. it manifested in her shifting gaze that was following the movements of the animals and the people that passed by, but still mostly the animals.
they took different forms in the bearings of her mind. rabbits sluggishly lay amidst the shabby scene, some alert and hopping about the feet of children that skipped around. no, they weren’t rabbits. miniature bulls bump into each other with their thick horns, and as they’re busied by petty physical contests, giant mice would step over them and laugh over seeing them squashed. they’re not sent to their demise. they flexibly rise back and continue on with their blood sport (though without the blood present). it was all in her mind.
the once resplendent sceenery became a scrub of moss and weeds, uncut grass grew in seconds of stop motion and massive flower buds jostled each other for the center view of the park’s scheme. these were images inside her head. its quaint events hammered out as the tale ends. a childish take on a story.
back to the real world, now she transforms into a backpacker. backpack hacker? “your options are several. ignore it and hope it goes away…” she pauses, face turned directly at his whilst staring deep into his eyes. she whispers harshly. “it won’t.” her eyes were squinted and a smile so devious surfaces for a split second before she continues on with her speech. “try to grab the offending pricker with your fingers…” that’s right. she realises it might only worsen the situation.
“it’s a prickly world out there, with splinters, thorns, and cactus spines. you’re bound to encounter a little sharp thing, rudely lodging itself on the surface of your skin. keyword, surface! fret not. i’ll get it out.” her words were mere distraction as without warning, she gently pulls the offending thorn out using the pointed tips of the small forceps she’d discreetly fished out of her purse. “you won’t die, i promise! if you do, sue me!” she exclaims with a wide grin as the whole of her hand grips at the bleeding foot; as if his death would allow him to do so. the grimace appears, it can’t be helped. the sight of blood was almost insufferable, especially when its spread all over her hand.
she does bear it for the sake of the friend, even proceeds on to spraying the wound with sterile saline and then wrapping it with adhesive bandages. she could only imagine it to be painfully irritating but he was better off this way. imagine sooyoung doing it another way, traditionally sterilizing tools with a flame and having it on him directly. complaints would have been unbearable to sit through listening. so it had to be done. she did it. for the balloon! and her oppa, of course… “there!” standing tall with hands laid on her waists, her stance demanded attention; she’s anticipating her reward.
