[ fruity and fiery ]
ππππ πππ πππ, Paju, SK Mid February , 2023 w.Β ππππ πππππππ
Alcohol might as well be Yiseul's best friend. Nothing else makes him feel warm and fuzzy inside, well, apart from cats. Cats definitely make him feel warm and fuzzy inside. At least it makes him feel something, something he can control, for the most part. In his hand he holds a tall glass of something fruity and fiery, with a little umbrella sticking out of the top. Fruity and fiery. A giggle erupts from his lips as he realises he might be described the exact same way, and he turns to his companion. His woefully sober companion.
"Seonie~" He draws his name out as though he can't get enough of the taste of it on his tongue, rolling the syllables around in his mouth for far too long. There he sits, that fucker. With his pretty mouth, and his pretty nose, and his fucking pretty hands. Had the bar stools not been attached to the floor he knows full well he'd have a leg over Minseon's right now, ever unable to keep his hands off the man. "Why don't you drink?" He's probably asked before, but in his alcohol addled mind he can't manage to locate the knowledge. Typically, Yiseul prides himself on knowing everything about everyone, and knowing for a fact that not a single person knows anything about him. Ever an enigma, the mysterious Yiseul.
He reaches over, trailing his fingers up along Minseon's forearm, until he lets his hand rest on his bicep, taking a long, deep inhale, as though contemplating something terribly heavy. "When are you going to choke me?" He asks as though he's merely asking the weather, then laughs and turns back to his drink, taking a long sip through the hot pink straw he'd requested. Yiseul likes to watch Minseon when he says stuff like that. He can't get enough of seeing the effects of his own words written so plainly on the other mans face. So, he glances over, well aware that his signature impish grin is tugging at the corner of his lips, giving away that he knows exactly what he's doing.