#ywsomin

[ywsanghyun]

birds of a feather

( @ywsomin​ ) — his spirits have been lighter this december, despite the frigid evenings. it’s mostly because sanghyun’s started working at the inn, and the change of scenery has been refreshing. sanghyun’s on his feet more often, and townsfolk are more receptive to idle chatter after a good meal than at the peak of a high-tension study session, and there’s no head librarian to chide him for cussing in front of families at the circulation desk. it’s true that he wanted that job at the library last year because of its guaranteed downtime, but, well. he’s never been the best at figuring out what he actually needs.

thinking short-term is easier: like walking into the diner on his off day, and having nothing but a hot dinner on the brain. it’s been a little while, since sanghyun usually gets his meals at work, but things change so slowly that it still feels like home. he slides into an empty booth and he’s fumbling with his coat when the waitress approaches, focused between the menu and his arm stuck in his sleeve. “i’ll just have the dinner special,” he says, “and... oh.” sanghyun looks up and does a quick double take — and then he can't hide his surprise when he recognizes her. “it’s chae somin.” his lips curve up with amusement and sanghyun frees himself of the coat , fully shifting his attention to somin. “i guess they're letting just anyone work here nowadays, huh? last i saw, you were...” sanghyun tilts his head, entertainment only growing when he realizes he isn’t sure. he waves a hand. “somewhere else.”

[ywhaneul]

@ywsomin

                     8 AM , the air is crisp to the touch , the sun has barely claimed its place in the sky . its warmth not yet reaching to soothe chilled bones , but its light - oh its light , it shines on the sea , on yangwon ever so perfectly that everything just seems to shine . sure , the nightlife has its own charm , but han can’t imagine why anyone would sleep through the painting of a masterpiece .

                      the breeze ruffles his hair as he rides down the slopes of town ( it doesn’t seem to even care that he spent twenty minutes this morning trying to fix today’s cowlick ) , this morning’s mail sitting comfortably in the white messenger bag slung across his shoulder . he gives a polite wave to each passerby , and his smile grows just the tiniest bit wider when they give him a wave back. he makes his way through each house , each neighborhood , until he’s at suseonhwa street and there’s a familiar figure lingering about their mailbox , as per usual. he whips his board to a stop , a few rocks sent flying as his wheels grinds against the asphalt.

                     ‘ hey somin ’ han greets her , a breathy smile and white fog escaping his lips . by now , he’s pieced together in his mind that she waits out here every now and then for something special to come in the mail ( what else could she be waiting for ? ) . but each time , all he has to give for her address is nothing more than the usual magazine subscriptions ( unless she just really likes her magazines ? ) . 

                     ‘ that’s all i got for today , sorry ’