An Essence of Empathetic Warmth
One would expect that the comings of a white coat and matching title of “doctor” would have a being strapped to the rigid form of all that it was to be a professional. However, that was not the case for a certain, arrogant, prodigy. Instead, he rebelled against the collar and leash that was tied around around his neck when he had first received the prefix “doctor”. The boy tore it to pieces and cackled as he swung his tail undulately to his liking. That was always the mantra of Dr. Kim JongIn, to do as he pleased. Perhaps it was the fact that he was a young soul, or possibly that had not been able to fully fill himself with all the joys that had accompanied one of his age.
Whether it was one, or the latter, JongIn had found himself wandering around the streets one evening to indulge on the overflowing cup of desire. Sipping at first, he was quick to drink heavily as if his parched throat could not replenish from all that was surrounding him. His darkened chocolate locks clung to his forehead as the festooned hues of light danced off the sweat coating his damp skin. A bored glint danced over his eyes as the female snapping her hips back and forth against him started to seem less and less impressive with each second. Although JongIn rarely frequented the district that harbored the overly ornate party goers, he found an urge eating at him that pulled his curious and kindled mind through that door and into the ocean of heavy bass music surging through the walls.
As the song ended, he lingered away from the unnamed girl and avoided each one that approached him as he pompously forced his way through the crowd of sweat slicked bodies and towards the bar. Parking himself onto one of the stools, he painted his eyes over the sorry souls drifting around. While some were searching for an overnight marriage, until dawn did them part, the others were scavenging for something more particular, which always had the young doctor inquiring why. There was nothing but trouble at this venue, and all similar ones included. But who liked to fit themselves to structured rules? Even JongIn had to admit that the exchange was stiff.
Blowing away the stray stands of hair that had grown dry due to the air conditioning vent looming above him, he unconsciously began to diagnose the people within his peripherals. On occasion, when JongIn was on a lunch break and had the urge to burn one and while KyungSoo was not bothered with the thick smell of tabaco, the two would people watch in the park nearby. Although they had brought Kris along a few times, he had never really seemed to contribute to their obnoxious stories about the people passing by. Sometimes, JongIn would weave a story about a serial killer who liked to sneak into homes and steal teddy bears while KyungSoo countered and told a tale about a woman who secretly severed off all her ex husband's index fingers for fun. The two found amusement in their absurd stories, and while his fellow colleague had not been there alongside him, he had decided to begin fidgeting with a story of his own.
Looking into the ocean of people, JongIn scanned carefully over each face and finger, as if panning for gold. A crooked smile curled onto his lip when it seemed his subject had matched the description perfectly. Goldilocks, he would dub her. Honestly, the female was not dancing as heavily as the others, nor was she sexually displaying herself. However, her prominent looking bone structure made her alluring, and the fact that she didn't even have to flinch a finger made JongIn curious all the more. Slowly reclining onto the bar, his elbows pinning themselves onto the surface, he began to write.
Perhaps the female was rich. There was something about the way she carried herself that had read classy. Intelligent, definitely. No ignorant woman had such posture. Goldilocks had no intention of finding a mate here, nor was she compelled to scout for a partner to merely dance with. It seemed as though she could stand in the middle of a room and anyone would automatically be drawn or compelled to converse with the young lady. What else? JongIn seemed to be coming up short, what with the enigmatic stature of the female and the fact that the lights were haphazardly blinding him. Whatever it was, told him that she was interesting and probably full of problems. Every beautiful being, was full of problems.
