@nurimg
✎ london sets down a strawberry milkshake in front of nuri because his favourite flavour is not something she’s going to forget anytime soon, not when she sees the way his eyes light up when he sees it on the table in front of him. if she’s being honest though, she does have an ulterior motive to buying him the drink, and whether or not he is aware this is subliminal bribery is an issue she isn’t going to dwell on. london has more important things at hand.
“strawberry, right?” she says (even though she knows strawberry is right), fishing her notebook out her bag. the corners are dog-eared from constantly being taken out, put away and flicked through multiple times a day, the spine weak and frayed because wedging a pen right in between pages probably isn’t so great for the book’s integrity.
nevertheless, london opens it up to the next blank page, pen ready in her hand, and she resists the urge to start tapping the end against the polished wood of the table.
“so, um, i kinda need your help with something, nu nu.” she’s not really sure how to word it all in a way that makes her sound like she’s Definitely Not A Creep. she’s probably going to need to accept the inevitable: there is no way she can word this next bit without sounding like a freak. “i kind of... need to stare at your face for a little while.”
god, she hopes that strawberry milkshake works.