sliptide
@euxkangdae
Hanbyeol’s brain felt like it was melting.
His head fell onto the book in front of him with a quiet thunk, and he let out the weariest sigh he’d possibly ever sighed. He’d been doing relatively well with the chapter so far, but at some point - he couldn’t quite recall exactly when - the words had all started to swim together, and he’d just realised that he’d read this very page thrice. To make matters at least lightly worse, he hadn’t retained any of it from even one of the read-throughs. Clearly he was getting nowhere.
Maybe, just maybe, it was time for a break. He sat up straighter now, nose crinkling in distaste as he took the final sip of the coffee that had long since gone cold. He’d have to get a new cup on his way back to the house if he wanted any sort of caffeine buzz, it seemed. With another sigh, he pressed the palms of his hands against his eyes for a beat, which turned into two, which turned into a solid five minutes of him trying to fight the urge to fall asleep entirely. When he opened them, however, he was met with a pair of legs that decidedly hadn’t been there when he’d closed them. Hanbyeol frowned, tilting his head up to see that it was, in fact, a familiar face.
“Kangdae,” he greeted eventually.