#jingooxph

[phxjaehyun-blog]

“Is that my shirt?”

Jaehyun glances down at the shirt he’s wearing and grins. He might or might not have raided Jin Goo’s closet while crashing at his place. It was all in good fun. He loved playing around with other people’s clothes. 

“Yeah.” He raises his arms and does a little twirl, ‘modelling’ the man’s shirt for him. “Hyung, your shirts really comfy ~”

He tugs the fabric up to his face to sniff it. 

“By the way, what detergent do you use? It smells really good!”

[phxjaehyun-blog]

回 = patching a wound

Jaehyun sits across the man, crossed-legged as he watches him wind the bandages round, and round, and round… 

“Didn’t think you could ever get hurt.” He muses out loud reaching out to press a finger against the injured area. “If you want, I can heal this for you… just give me some of your hair, and fingernails.” He mutters, as he continues to press, press, press.

“Hey, hey, does it hurt when I do this?” 

[phxjaehyun-blog]

👣 Point of Contact

@jingooxph

There are days when Jaehyun wonders out loud if he’s an idiot. In which Vergil would respond unapologetically: Indeed you are child. And he would act offended, but it’s times like these that proves that Vergil’s always (mostly) right, and that yes Jaehyun, you are an idiot.

He shouldn’t have listened to the frog. Shouldn’t have agreed to help his poor, poor master who’d been poisoned by the pollution of humans. That master was a good, nice spirit. Please, you’re the only one who can help. 

Yeah right. 

How low of them to appeal to his moral conscience only to turn around and attempt to pull his tongue out (after almost crushing his spine out of alignment). If he weren’t so focused on getting away right now, he would've stopped to bash his head into a tree. Because duh, spirits calling you into a secluded forest? That should’ve clearly set off warning bells, but nooooo. Had to be a nice guy. Such assholes spirits were. Including damned Vergil. Some guardian he was. He’s always oh so conveniently never around when he needs him the bloody most. 

He sucks in a breath, and sees spots swimming in his vision — not enough oxygen. As he runs, he presses a palm the lower regions of his chest. He might have a cracked rib or two and bloody hell it hurts to breath. But he can’t stop. Not when the forest is clearly this spirit’s domain. The dense thicket of the forest made navigation while running a hazard, but he survives, and he might (he will) make it. The greenery is starting to thin, and he’d hit the border soon.

Unfortunately for him, he hits something else instead. And does an amazing forward flip as he crashes (and burns) with the ridiculously solid object he’d collided into. Who the hell put a  — wait what? Human?  — in the middle of the path. 

Well, he hasn’t got the time for apologises and such. He doesn’t even have to look behind to know that his pursuer is still hot on his heels  — not that he even wants to look. Just remembering those terribly hollow eyes and unhinged jaw was enough to send chills down his spine. He can still feel the splintery, branch-like appendages (fingers?) forcing themselves into his mouth and tugging at his tongue. Hard. Brrrhh...

He does not want to be caught by this monster. 

So he doesn’t wait to get caught. Instead, he dives for the thick cluster of bushes not too far away, absent-mindedly dragging the other human (male) along. It’s prickly, and the stiff branches scratches his skin, but since it provided good coverage, it’d do. Not bothering for explanations, he forces the other male down and presses down on top of him, partially stuffing his fist into the guy’s mouth. 

Then, he waits, eyes and ears on full alert as he attempts to slow and quieten his breathing. It is near. And he really, really doesn’t want to get caught.