‧ ˚ ꒰ ♡ —— @yibushu : eunjin + jihan.
the party hums with the kind of joy that refuses to stay contained, bright and sticky and alive, and jihan moves through it with jungwoo orbiting close, a small sun tugging at him with gravitational certainty. five years old feels impossibly big, a number that demands balloons and a cake too large for the table, and jihan feels it in his chest how naturally he has always slipped into this role, less an uncle and more a secret older brother, someone jungwoo trusts instinctively. being the youngest himself had led him fluent in the language of children, in the comfort of crouching down instead of standing tall, and jungwoo responds to that with devotion, with the kind of attachment that is loud and proud utterly unselfconscious. “ uncle jihan, look, ” jungwoo says, tugging at his sleeve with hands dusted in sugar, already halfway to somewhere else, already convinced the world will follow him. jihan does because following jungwoo has never felt like something he chose but something that simply happens.
it is in one of those pauses ( a breath between songs, a moment where the noise rearranges itself ) that jihan notices the princess. rapunzel, unmistakable even outside the tower, and he registers her beauty with the same startled quiet he reserves for things that catch him unprepared. he mans nothing by it, not really, just the gentle honesty that slips out of him when his guard is down, and he murmurs to his sisters, almost absentmindedly, “ she's... really beautiful. ” the words barely leave him before he feels the shift, the way jungwoo's attention sharpens, curiosity lighting up his face like a fuse. “ you think she's pretty? ” jungwoo asks, eyes wide, already turning. jihan barely has time to nod before the child is moving, decisive and fearless, pulling him along with the certainty of someone who has never learned hesitation. “ you should tell her! ”
suddenly the distance is gone, and jihan is standing too close, too visible, his heart stumbling over itself as jungwoo beams up at the princess and says, with proud simplicity, “ rapunzel, this is my uncle. he thinks you're pretty. ” the air seems to thin around jihan, and words come rushing to fill it before he can stop them, tumbling out in a nervous cascade. “ i mean- hi, i didn't mean it like that, or, well, i did, but not in a weird way, i just meant that you look really nice, like, objectively nice, very- hm- fitting, for the character, obviously, but also just... yeah, ” ha says, hands moving as if they're trying to conduct the chaos in his chest. he laughs too quickly, then adds, “ i'm sorry, i'm rambling. i do that sometimes. most of the time. jungwoo has no sense of personal boundaries, yet. ”
jungwoo, delighted, looks between them and grins. “ uncle jihan talks a lot, ” he says, not unkindly, more like a statement of fact, as if this is simply another charming feature. “ he's funny. ” that, somehow, grounds jihan more than anything else could, the reminider that in this room, in this moment, he is not a spectacle but a familiar shape. the little boy wanders away. jihan exhales, softer now, and says, “ he's five today. he's very brave about introductions. i'm... less so. ” he doesn't know her name, doesn't try to reach for it. lets the moment exist without labels, and in the lingering warmth of embarrassment there is also something tender. the party continues around them, noise and color folding back into place. “ i'm so sorry to bother you, hm, rapunzel! but i wanted to say that you doing a good job, like a really good one, the kids are loving it. ”
