Oct 5, 2013
/purses lips and slightly waves to the other/ Hello. I'm Hyukjae, you?
Hello. /tilts his head slightly to the side,giving the stranger a polite smile/ I’m Youngjae.It’s a pleasure to meet you!
seen from China
seen from Canada
seen from United States
seen from Germany
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from India
seen from China
seen from Argentina
seen from United States
seen from Russia
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from China
seen from China
seen from China
seen from Bangladesh
/purses lips and slightly waves to the other/ Hello. I'm Hyukjae, you?
Hello. /tilts his head slightly to the side,giving the stranger a polite smile/ I’m Youngjae.It’s a pleasure to meet you!
Boomboxes and Dictionaries || Miyoung x Hyukjae
We are just misguided ghosts; traveling endlessly...
It seemed to haunt her, the way walls caved in, ceiling seeming to drop right below her head. A pressure in her chest sent her forward against the window pane of the small, warm cafe, illuminated with dimly lit lights. There was a sharp pain shooting through her head, fingers tingling perpetually as tears spilled from her eyes, wetting the fabric of the cardigan that hugged her ever so tightly around her neck. The rain poured down on the other side of the glass, and with every breath she look, her throat tightened more and more. Why was this happening to her? With no one else to blame, she'd come to the conclusion that her own foul thinking contaminated her mind, tainted her well-being. Thankfully, she'd planned to cry that night. It was a stress reliever, letting her endorphin drain from the ports in her eyes, emotions spilling out with them. The smoothness of the pages nestling close together in her journal, she grabbed a pen, scratching off the first task.
Cry.
Task number two wasn't her forte, seeing as though there were no other people lingering in the cozy building. Share your knowledge with a stranger. So, she waited. And waited she did. For hours, determined to finish her daily task, Miyoung lingered in the booth at the back, eventually wrapping her hands around a mug of coffee. She sipped nonchalantly, eyes lifting up when the ring of the bell resounded. Finally, she thought to herself. As soon as the stranger sat down, she began reading him. With hair brushed down over his face, almond shaped eyes welcomed her as the corners of his lips turned up into a faint smile at a newspaper below him. She grabbed her mug of coffee and messenger bag, throwing it around her shoulders as she made her way to his table.
"I'm Miyoung..." She did not hesitate as she slid into the seat across from him, "I need to fill my daily tasks...Did you know...Did you know that Haruki Murakami, author of "Norwegian Wood" owns more than six thousand musical records?"