@cluelezz
Gyuri head rested on the rounded table with a plate filled of fries. As oddly as it was, she wasn’t in the mood to eat—mostly because her meal was delivered without dipping sauce, and she was too lazy to get up to tend to her needs. Through and through, her schedules had been tough on her, so much that her physical and mental state couldn’t handle it. “Sanghyun… can you give me the ketchup please?” She asked in a mumble. Waiting a few minutes before asking again, she spoke a little louder. “Oppa…Oppa! I asked for the ketchup!” Her head still lied on the table and her eyes were sealed shut. “Aish, this guy is ignoring me?” she whispered under her breath. She knew her friend to be stubborn, but most times he was tolerant. Now growling, she banged her fist to the table top. “LLAMA HAIR! I ASKED FOR THE-” before she could finish she felt a cold squirt shot at her back. Reaching her hand to her behind, ketchup painted the tips of her fingers. “Ah! Jugeullae!?” She yelled, springing to her feet she readied herself to grab her slipper, in a choice of a weapon, only then to stop and realized she was talking to her elder. “Uhh… I mean… uhh…” She dropped her slipper to the floor and looked down to the ground. “Thank you…?” Looking at the taller, she prepared a force grin, hoping she wouldn’t be punished for her behavior. “Oppa’s the best… heehee.”
Down with a sore throat an an exhausted body, Sanghyun had actually invited his younger friend over in hopes she’d boost his energy, but she was in the same physical state as him, leaving the two to just do nothing but eat fries in front of the Tv. Naturally, he had taken the whole couch for himself, letting Gyuri sit in front of him, on the parquet. The first time, he didn’t respond to her demand for he had heard nothing but mumbling, and was too lazy to even hum at her to make her repeat herself. He only complied the second time with a blink of his eyes at her tone, and without a word he dragged his feet to the fridge to get the ketchup (admittedly, he wanted some on his fries as well), and with the same steps, made his way back to the couch. He grabbed his plate of fries, and just as he was about to squeeze some ketchup out of the bottle, the loud bang of her fist had him jump in surprise, and his own fist curled, the ketchup squeezed out above her back, fries falling off his plate. He instantly paused, a rush of anger taking him over, and pressed his eyes shut and held his breath, the exhaled and glared at the younger. Features furrowed in annoyance, he slammed the bottle down on the table, right next to her face, and seethed: “There you go, you little binch cookie...”