a halloween thread because hyuk can’t be responsible without being stupid @wshaeni
he–as genuine usual, had a problem.Â
how nice it was if he could actually draw a sarcastic smiley face right in front of every thought that was currently popping up in his head after his bright amazing idea of unintentionally (or intentionally) matching up with haeni on their halloween outfits.Â
the intention was good. great, even.Â
but it was also why he was in this fucked up predicament in the first place, sneaking across parking lots with a hood pulled up to conceal his face ( thank god for piercing winds and colder days). the long black trench coat dragged halfway across the road as he ambled across the street, hair flopping over his eyes and quickly making his way up to haeni’s apartment door. (he’d found out. through mutual friends. not that he was stalking her or anything–he was just nice and kinda pure like that)Â
“jung haeni, open up!” the rap of his knuckles were sharp, loud almost incessant to the point of being frustrated.Â
hyuk turned, sparing a suspicious glance at anyone that passed by him for a moment took too long a moment to stare.
“jung haeni, open up and take responsibility for that thing on my fucking head.” he complained, as loudly (and softly) as he could at her door. she could hear him, he was sure of that, even through a thick ass wooden door and..wherever she was in her apartment. her..rooms weren’t that far apart..weren’t they?Â
the question bubbles in his mind for a moment, before a scowl overtakes his face and he resumes rapping his knuckles against the door once more.Â
“jung haeni!” he whines, yelping as the door suddenly swings open, he he all but trips over his own two feet and lands flat on the ground, face first. the hat that had sat precariously upon his head wobbled, then tipped, falling flat onto the simple surface of the ground as hyuk’s hands shot up almost immediately to cover the mortifying state of his newly dyed hair, a long screech tearing itself from his lips. “hat, hat!” he scrambled for the accessory, stuffing the sad, limp straws of his now golden brown hair into his hat messily, clearing his throat and brushing down his coat for a semblance of…faux serenity. “ well.” he stands right in the middle of her corridor, much like a stick of complete awkwardness. “ …hi?”Â
   with the confidence of a singular bean sprout, she purchases the joker’s nurse outfit from that one batman movie and hopes for the best. hopes that her costume would appear more threatening than it did when it had arrived. brows furrowing as manicured nails dig into the package, careful digits pulling the cropped nursing outfit up, a disappointed sigh leaving her. was she surprised with the amount of missing material? absolutely not. though, the syringe made everything a little more sweeter.Â
   nurse costume on, as she thanks the part of her brain that had convinced her to go with the shorts instead of the scandalous miniskirt that was advertised. the giant syringe in her hand, the highlight of her outfit. the perfect weapon to shove down hyuk’s throat or even to knock him out cold, long enough that she’s able to steal his wallet and feed him to the sharks.
   the sudden banging that echoes through her apartment makes her jump slightly, head turning to the door only to hear the familiar voice the follows. brows furrowing again, this time accompanied by the narrowing of hazel hues, concentrating on the voice that disturbs the silence of her home. she almost swears she hears the voice of hyuk, though she hadn’t recalled ever giving him her home address. furrowed brows creasing further, as careful steps pace to the door, digits curling around the handle, swinging the door open. syringe in hand ready to bat only to be met with a screeching noise that further baffles her already confused countenance. she holds the giant syringe close to her chest, taking a step back, unsure if this was the same hyuk. “... hello.”Â
   shifting slightly to the side, eyeing the exit as she continues to clutch to the syringe before her, “how... how did you— what happened to your hair?” corners beginning to perk up as furrowed brows of confusion and slight fear melt away as her gaze captures his full frame. “what’s with the get up?” she points her syringe at him, “and... that coat— that should be illegal. can you take it off? it looks weird.” syringe tracing its way to the coat hanger by the door, “what are you meant to be? a scarecrow with hay for hair?”Â