“It seems like you’ve been doing everything you can not to talk to me.”
“distance makes the heart grow fonder.” digits raking through his strands, “wait no—” he pauses, brows knitting together slightly, “what the fuck is the saying? distance? absence? abstinence? abduction? destruction?” he shrugs, a light roll of his shoulders as he moves to slump into the chair of the studio. he has been trying to avoid chorong for the last few weeks, in attempts of erasing her existence from his mind and replace her features with kiha’s. a mental strategy to make his romantic chase after her on their upcoming drama more realistic, depositing his feelings for kiha into her. attempting to delve deep into that part of him, and at least if this entire idol thing doesn’t go well— he’ll have at least a career in acting. it pays off being this brooding in nature.
his gaze moves to meet with hers, “how’s being a furry?” reaching for his water bottle, uncapping it as he takes a sip. with chorong’s recent birthday happenings, miles had gifted her a miffy fur suit, he was sure it was something she had yet to own amongst her plethora of miffy merchandise. “have you tried on the socks? do they fit?”
bemusement lathers his features for a moment, lets the smirk on his countenance fade as he’s almost positive the feeling was mutual. the wonderment of how the two of them were to act as love interests in a drama, when their realities were so far a part that it was almost laughable at the mere though of miles having to be shy around her. a hand raising to cover at his features, turning away slightly, “don’t look at me, you’re making me shy.” digits move to grasp at an unopened water bottle, tossing it towards her, “stop, chorong. stop it, you’re making me shy.” his hand falls to the armrest, not being able to hold in the menacing laughter that follows as he chokes and dies.