healer.
with @lgcsejun◞ ✰ — in seoul, south korea.
kiha was certain of one thing— he was not going to be winning any awards in the department of friendship for this quarter gone. perhaps a demerit point or acknowledgement of his shitty actions if he was lucky. he reminds himself constantly that he doesn’t deserve the kind, good and loving people he has in his life. kiha wants to say he’s surprised when his best friend takes him up on his offer to head into seoul after hours for a late night burger date, as kiha puts it. but he isn’t— because that was the kind of person na sejun was. yoo kiha reemerges from the shell he’s spent couped up in for the past three or so months, opening himself back up to the people around him. kiha hadn’t only punished himself these past three months, but all of the people he held closest to him— the people he hadn’t intended to nor wanted to hurt.
he couldn’t remember the last time he spoke to sejun— anything beyond a hi, bye or goodnight had become too much in the span of a week and kiha had resorted to vacating the dormitory at any given chance. evading any and all attempts sejun might of had at talking to him on a more intimate or emotional level. he wishes he could of actually spoken to sejun— gotten out of his own head and opened up to the one person who might possibly provide him with a slither of mental reprieve ( minus haley, of course ).
kiha opts to walk— wanting to embrace the remnants of the crisp winter air, as the cold withers away, replaced by budding blossoms which are soon to line the streets with blankets of baby pink petals. he had suggested this all through text message— the words coming easier through typed word than spoken. kiha buries his hands a little deeper into his jacket pockets as they round the corner of a backstreet, approaching a small, american style burger joint; it’s neon lights splashing rainbows onto the pavement bordering it’s storefront.
