#skywhi

[sensorv-blog]

❝ your expectations for me have been set way too high. ❞ (to hanbin)

“You’re such a drama king, Junnie,” Hanbin cooed at him from across the kitchen, the warm voice spreading just like the delicate scents of slowly cooking food. He was leaning over two pots, the insides of both of them simmering softly as he stirred into them from time to time, tasting here and adding more seasoning there. It took only a split second of a glance back over his shoulder to see Hojun’s grimace, scrunching up his face in less than elegant ways, a reaction Hanbin had known he would receive to using a pet name that he did even before it left his mouth. If he was honest with himself, half of the reason why he called him that way was because he knew it annoyed the younger – the other half was an actual, pure affection he felt for him.

“Acting like I’m waiting for you to get a steady nine-to-five job, marry and father two children… We both know it’s impossible and that’s a-okay,” He laughed – a tiny, soft sound that fit right in the atmosphere of this place: the dim lights, the comforting but not overwhelming scents, the good temperature. Hanbin knew it was carefully arranged by Hojun, just like it always was whenever he visited him, and he was eternally thankful to him for that. It made being here almost as comfortable as home. “All I ever asked of you is to take care of yourself and your proper nutrition. And for the record, before you say anything else, proper nutrition isn’t based exclusively on instant ramyeon, soda and alcohol.”

[i62cm]

♬♩♪♩ᴄᴏɴᴛɪɴᴜᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴡɪᴛʜ sᴋʏᴡʜɪ 

“stop giving me that ‘thirsty’ look,” wheein says as she puts on a fitted dress with her short arms trying to hopelessly zip it up from the back. she wasn’t the type to try on tight fitted dresses, but from time to time, when going shopping, she would like to test out random outfits. and at that moment, all she thought of was, ‘ why am i wearing this? ‘

as hojun came into the fitting room slowly she didn’t mind it all, but when she felt his hands touching the back of her bare neck she could feel a flood of blood travel faster than normal throughout her whole body. trying to keep calm, by inhaling oxygen and exhaling carbon dioxide, didn’t work at all, she felt her heart beat faster as he gently moved her hair to the side.

though they were in a fitting room of a public clothing department she could of cared less, wheein turns around to face him. there he was, only a couple of inches away from her, she looked up into his eyes. ‘ why am i doing this? ‘ she thought to herself. she could feel the warmness of the air that he was releasing. wheein’s consciousness kicks in, ‘ you’re just going to get hurt in the end. ‘ though she knew the ending to this weirdly romantic relationship, she quietly says to herself, “i don’t care anymore.” she places her small cold hands on both sides of his cheeks, that were really warm and nice to the touch, slowly she gets on her tippy toes trying to get her lips closer to his.

before wheein could even kiss him she says, “don’t make a sound.” feeling his lips, that were softer than anything she has ever touched, against hers. she enjoyed every second of this moment. delicately she releases her lips off of his and smiles to the point where her dimples showed the feelings that she had felt at that time. “well that’s a first,” she releases a soft chuckle.

[brxmie-blog]

“ they were flirting with you ”

❛ They were not, c’mon ❜ she says pushing his shoulder a bit, shaking her head and laughing as she sips her Peach Green Tea Lemonade ❛ Its been years since someone flirted with me, but I think I can still recognise when it happens.. ❜

[sodeling-blog]

// @skywhi

jo’s been places before, over cold balconies, under strangers, over assholes. the inside of her brain? looking in from out. that shit’s weird. that’s the shit she didn’t sign up for. fact it, she hasn’t been properly trashed in a minute. it’s not a bad thing but it’s a weird thing. it’s a not-her thing. a not old her thing because she’s becoming a new person and it means being sober in a pretty girl’s arms. which has been something she’s been lacking as of late. and it’s because she’s been lacking she finds herself face to face with the old-her things. the fuck up things.

sometimes she’ll relapse and take a few shots, hit up a few parties, fill when she doesn’t really know what she needs to fill. she knows it’s a poor substitution but never knows what for, never really ask what for. that’s the key, to not ask and just indulge. that’s become hard too. and jo, jo is so fucking attached to the old her and the old her things that she doesn’t get it - doesn’t get why she can’t stick to it how she wants to. how it doesn’t fill like she wants.

so she lets beer cans fill up, never emptied in the mess of her fridge. listens to parties going on above and around and stays empty for a minute. the silent night empty where she kind of wants to fall into her bed but also through the floor.

then she hears that same noise again and she decides to move. through her apartment at to the door. this is the looking in part. the part where she sees someone that looks like her making their way around. she’s got one good beer in when she opens the door, not enough but a start. and she catches the same guy trudging up the stairs. drunk off his ass. high on some other shit. she’s inhales once, refuses to calm when his feet dig a nasty sound into the ground. she launches the can and watches it crash and bounce back right above his head.

“hey shithead, go be shitfaced somewhere else.” she’s jealous really, and she’s not too used to it either.

[tsdrats]

/ @skywhi

belated good mornings almost leave his lips, but haneul finds he’s struck with a sort of fascination. the creepy kind that leave his eyes wide and mouth open. open not because he was about to say good morning but because he was about to shove a big spoon of rice into his mouth. well rice with an egg - over the stove. it’s been a rough morning.

but rough like his head bangs and he didn’t get enough sleep. like he knows he’s in the kitchen but he still banged his legs on the way there. it’s rough in a way he’s used to so he just moves how he moves and gets what he gets. the pan sizzles and cracks so he makes eggs and rice is already done so it’s easy. easier than full meals and searching and moving. but he’s still bright, cheery, covered in this raw excitement for what the day holds. even if it’s hojun on his couch or stumbling into the kitchen looking sore.

that’s the sore in the way haneul doesn’t understand. he knows hangovers, doesn’t knows them like hojun does but knows them as college students do. as bad memories and bitter laughter. he’s had a hangover twice and it was two times too many. he felt too light, too dizzy and like he slipped into and out of every person around him, out of control and controlled by the walls surrounding him. he hated it, not for the burn or the taste or the splitting headache. just the fuzziness. he hates it, so he opts out.

hojun doesn’t and it’s something that’s always fascinated haneul. it fascinates him now, enough to stick the entire spoon in his mouth. he scrambles another clean one, scoops up a big glob of rice and pulls out his phone the minute his friend’s words roll out. he hits record without remorse.

“mmm hyung, ya look like shit.” he says mirroring the elder’s position, leaning from the other side of the counter and holding up a soon full of rice in his other hand. “supposed to make you seaweed soup or something right? the only sin i’ve committed is not putting enough pepper paste on this rice.” he shrugs, a awkward movement against the counter top before holding up the second spoon to the elder. “tough shit, eat up jerry.”