taeyeon's head lulls to the side, a nostalgic smile teasing the corners of his mouth as he bites his lip around it, smoke billowing languidly out of his nostrils. "hyung," he says after a moment of blessed (relative) silence, bar the music playing ever-atmospherically in the background. "i'm glad you're back." maybe, selfishly, secretly, he basks in the other man's glow, endlessly inspired by the sense of sincerity he carries; or maybe it's the after effects of a tolerance break sending his head even higher into the clouds. it feels good to feel himself open up again, an imaginary weight lifting him out of his worldly woes and somewhere safe. suddenly, funnily, the writer's block he'd been plagued with for who knows how long feels like a thing of the past, he finds himself antsy, vying to share the sounds, the words that have crammed their way into every margin of every piece of paper he's ever gotten his hands on. "you're like, my musical good luck charm or something. i feel like i could write a fucking symphony." @thatsohkai













