#fcxljongsuk

[fcxpsylocke]

fcxljongsuk replied to your post:l i k e for an ic ask!

no

[fcxjinri-blog]

— beam me up

it had been another hard night--not that any of them were particularly easy--one that leaves jinri with a head that feels seconds from cracking open, swollen eyes, and an overall desire to simply stay where she was--parked in her bed with her laptop on her lap. the stationary position definitely promised not only security, but the possibility of hitting level 70 today on maplestory or finding a sweet nx sugar daddy. maybe even both.  tempting was one way to describe the idea of staying.

five minutes of sleepy deliberation later, the girl manages to tear herself from thoughts of indulgence and her bed, steadying herself as her feet trace the swirls her lethargic, starved body draw. had she forgotten to eat dinner again? probably. but then why does she feel nauseous too? a moment is spent in a squinter's contemplation before she decides not to care, stumbling to the washroom with half lidded eyes and pulling herself through her morning routine. wearily, she smiles at the place where their mirror used to be, then twirling to the dorm's mini fridge to pull out two cold spoons and an energy drink before shutting it and turning to her nightstand to pluck out a granola bar and her bottles of medication.

normalcy awaits.

meagre breakfast inhaled, jinri lays back on her bed, holding onto the spoons and bouncing her feet against the mattress as she felt the metal utensils warm. she practically leaps off her bed this time around, floating to the washroom to quickly wash the tools and return them to the fridge. chemical confidence begins to pulse through her veins, and she finds that shoving herself into the role of the usual 'pleasant, airheaded choi jinri,' let her ascent come quicker, as if her thoughts were helium and she was a mere balloon, waiting to be filled.

stuffing her phone--but not before checking the time; she wasn't going to be late! or well, that late. you go, choi jinri--and the obligatory face mask into the back pocket of her shorts, the girl exits the empty room and shuts the door behind her. it feels weird, leaving for class alone, but in all honesty, what wasn't strange nowadays? she makes a note to whine to soojung about it later regardless, lips curving into a small, jilted grin at the thought of immature revenge as she makes her way to class.

it takes a few minutes too long to find her close combat class, though at this point, she accepts brain lag as a regularity (an annoying one perhaps, but it is hard to hold onto annoyance when one isn't sober) and decides to congratulate herself on wandering into the familiar hallway. seeing a foreign figure--one at whom she squints at, scrutinising with extra effort just in case her confusion is her own mistake--hovering near the class' entrance, the mutant pauses, thumbs finding where full, proper pockets should've been in her shorts and resting them in the small dip she was able to force.

there isn't much analysis that is needed to be put forward--it's obvious. the male in front of her is either lost or considering skipping; two spots she's beyond familiar with. and so it's with a friendly, bright smile that she walks over, prodding the fellow's shoulder.

"lost?"

it is the easier, more polite assumption to voice.