— red dice

❝ champagne and red ;

nanaxda:

It happens too quickly, in a collection of blurs, a string of events that all glide together–every image, every voice–into one long thread of light, of color, of a sound that starts with her yelp and ends with his voice. One moment she feels pain, hears her own scream, the consequent red around her, almost beautiful in its dark shades, its fluid shape. The next, she’s in the car as her hands tremble, as her lips quiver; she feels a chill in her bones, one that settles in their marrow in frigid clusters.

“I–I think so.” she manages to say; her lips form other words, other shapes, but her breaths are limited. Something restricts them, something between shock, surprise, the lingering sting of pain; it digs into her arm even after his hand covers it, not something grave but entirely present; it holds too much clarity to forget, too dull to pay attention to.

Her head turns, her eyes dart around; the question of identity surfaces and all she can do is gaze at Xavier, at the smooth lines of his face, the grooves of his lips, the angles of his nose. She wants to cry, wants to faint, but all she manages is a stare, distant, distracted look, as though she’s stuck in that moment, in the memory; as though the world around her is a transient fantasy–the weight of reality remains behind in the cut, in the accident, in the wide brown eyes she receives it with. Fear blankets her and she lets her lips lose their shape, lets them wrinkle as they pull together, as worry glistens in her eyes. “What was that?” she asks him, pleads with a quiet, frail voice; one that breaks too easily under a sob. Louder, she asks again. “What was that? What happened–why did someone do this–?”

her tone reaches him as one that resembles fear, helplessness, and it doesn’t take him long before he has a couple of suspects listed in his mind. a message comes promptly and he reads through the content of it - updates of situation with the attacker - before he slips his phone back into his pocket, deciding to deal with this later.

he lifts his gaze, looking over her expressions in an attempt to decipher how she’s feeling before he draws his hand away from her elbow to reach for one of the compartments. the portable first-aid kit is finally going to be put to good use and he grabs the gauze from the box. disinfecting the wound should’ve been first step but right now he needs to stop the bleeding, and it’ll probably calm her nerves slightly ( or so he hopes ) if she doesn’t see as much blood staining her arm and possibly half of the top of her dress.

“don’t look at it” he says, tone calm as he glances up at her briefly, before focusing his gaze on the wound while he proceeds to wrap the gauze around her arm, and he makes sure it’s wound tight enough to stop - or slow - the bleeding for now, until they get to the hospital for a proper dressing. “people hold grudges when deals don’t go their way, and some take revenge” truth though not in entirety, but it’s what he thinks she needs to know at this point in time. after all, certain ignorance is indeed bliss, in spite of the fact that she has had no idea but is dragged into this nonetheless and for that, he finds himself liable till she recovers. “i’m sorry” a tone of sincerity, while he cleans off the blood stains on her arm with alcohol wipes, “sorry you got involved and injured”.

daxjunhyung-blog

❝ sans voir

#a.sans voir #r.daxjunhyung #tw; abuse #{ didn't vet this so bear with mistakes and im about to pass out so rest of replies tomorr o w

daxjunhyung:

Like a child, Junhyung followed the the movements of the taller male, and like a prideful youth he tried to hide the pain from the mere touch to his skin. It hurt, it would continue to hurt for weeks, but he still couldn’t deny that part in his DNA that insisted the man tries to keep his ground. But he hurt. And that was evident by the twitch of his eyebrow.

a simple question but the string of answers that followed told xavier more than what he needed to know. the scouts were right and the information they had gathered about this man was true. he should’ve felt guilty, but he didn’t, especially not after the offensive comments that the other had spewed - regardless of with intention or no - had served their offensive purpose. besides, xavier would rather have the wrong guy from the start than let the right one out on the loose and put everyone involved in this along with xavier at risks. he had done the former for more times than he could count, assuming he even bothered enough to do that all.

lips pursed slightly while the other delivered the rather dramatic speech which had just gone from offensive to passive-aggressive, rather than saying he was offended, it was actually more of being amused and to an extent, impressed. interrogations as such went down in every way - possible and impossible. some pled for mercy, some changed their minds halfway through, guilty ones spilled everything that they were needed for, loyal ones kept their mouths tight and had their secrets rot in them - or with them because all these wound up with the same ending. except xavier was about to offer another proposal - a way out for this man. it wasn’t that he was generous ( he wasn’t known for it and he knew he wasn’t ), he just saw the value of this man to be more applicable when alive.

silence lapsed in after the other man seemed to be done talking, and there was complete stillness until xavier gave a quiet hum in response, gaze lifted in an attempt to meet that of the other’s, “i know, you’re not working for anyone else. but you’re wrong, you have been working for me and you will continue working for me” tone stern in spite of the quietness of his voice. “i can’t say the same about the others out there, but i must say we currently have the team. and you’ve managed to get past those nets they’ve set in place, so i’m putting you on this team. and guess they wouldn’t need to fill you in with everything considering you’ve already read some of that yourself.” his words leave no room for rejection, making it clear to the man that this was his only way out. unless of course, the other hadn’t caught on yet, in which case xavier would be more than glad to spell it out for him. drawing to his height, he stood in front of the man before turning around to step over to the desk, “prove you’re innocent, why waste that talent of yours” a statement, not a question, while he leaned against the edge of his desk, hands in his pockets as he glanced down at the man who was slumped against the ground less than three meters away from him.

❝ champagne and red ;

nanaxda:

Her lips curl, pout; she never thought he meant only five minutes, though precision, by now, should be expected. So she follows slowly, body moving with grace, as though the air is thick, dense, padded with a quiet she doesn’t want to shatter, doesn’t want to fracture. Though a few words slip out, sliver in the air like silk ribbons, curling with the wind, passive in their flight. “You don’t need a bet to taste them.” she tells him, steps pausing when the table draws near.

Jinah’s eyes fall from his eyes to the table and the bottles of champagne; a thin strand of light wraps around it, hugs its neck, slithers down its frame and she stares, admires. Her eyes look up towards what it reflects and she catches the eyes of another man; even when contact’s made, he doesn’t look away, doesn’t shy from confrontation–suspicious, though she’s too distracted to care.

Instead her lips thin before a smile blossoms, pulls them back; Xavier rests on her eyes in miniature, a reflection warmed by the color underneath, lightened by a joy, a happiness she’s come to know. Her fingers slip around her glass and she lifts it towards him. “I’m giving you the honor of proposing a toast for tonight.”

gaze on the bottle of champagne while the waiter pops it open, he’s unaware of their surroundings and unbothered by the happenings. except her words do draw a grin across his lips, and he lifts his glass of champagne in response. “and i’m proposing this toast to you” a slight pause before he continues, in a hushed tone this time “for enduring this hell of a boring evening for me”. proceeds to tilt his glass in her direction, clinking it lightly against hers before finishing the champagne in a swig.

he takes a step to the side and towards the table for another glass, a move that unknowingly exposes her to the imminent danger -- to which he is oblivious about. it happens too fast, a swift and unexpected swing of a man’s arm who’s approaching from behind xavier, and seems to be initially directed at xavier until the step he takes saves him from the dagger of this furious man. he reaches instinctively to pull nana towards him and out of danger’s way, but it seems he hasn’t reacted promptly enough when the dagger leaves a cut at the side of her arm, and he needs to get her out of here and fast, leaving him with barely any time to think about the incident for now.

a hand wrapped lightly around her elbow, he props her wounded arm up while he wraps his other arm around her, heading out of the venue with hasty steps while his men take care of the attacker. he’ll have to question this one later on, but for now he needs to get her wound tended to. he helps her into the vehicle before the chauffeur speeds off towards the nearest private hospital, one which they frequent, and he turns to glance down at her, gaze settling on the wound first. “are you ok?”

daxyoungkwang-blog

» overlapping shadows

#{ your titles ftw tbh #a.overlapping shadows #r.brad

daxyoungkwang:

xavierxda

Being invited to parties was rare, let alone the formal ones. Youngkwang was known as Brad and everyone knew that Brad wasn’t exactly the right type to bring to a party. He held a small glass of champagne, because that’s all they had besides water. There was shrimp and crackers for now, steak for later. He wore a tuxedo, as though it were comfortable in any way shape or form all while trying to forget how expensive it was.

Youngkwang was invited as the writer, under this somehow awakening ‘Brad Kim’ alias. Not even an alias, simply a pen name he picked up as a kid. He wondered silently to himself if the last name should be just as unfamiliar. It was a silent shrug that brought him to a sudden side conversation with someone he’d seen before, a young woman that probably worked around him. Probably in some faction that was aligned with the Diamonds, or not. He wasn’t sure, he didn’t really care at this point as if it weren’t obvious enough.

Even then, it wasn’t until he saw — well, an old friend — but much more currently a distrusting human being that used to near the blood-brother-status. Xavier, the name burned like a branding iron for his forehead. Memories that didn’t directly link him to life, as well as those that were perfectly linked to the man that stood but ten feet away from ‘Brad’. He smiled at his companion for the time being, but the presence at the other side of the room would forever be a shadow to catch.

as much as he enjoys solitude, he needs a balanced, if not more, amount of time dedicated to parties ( even formal ones count in desperate times ) ; just think of how dull life will be otherwise. he revels in the control that he has over interactions when he’s at such events, steering conversations in intended directions, and nothing ( all except one ) brings him more gratification than attaining these desired outcomes by the end of it. a simple suit as his attire for the night -- one of the many, considering the frequency of such occasions he’s had to attend -- and as usual, a glass of cocktail in a hand.

it’s a formal event, and he’s well aware of the purposes this ‘party’ serves. a brief glance across the venue and the looks on the faces of those invited tonight, it’s evident a majority are here to fulfill the sole mission of boot-licking the right figures in hopes of sealing a deal or two. that’s one of the few reasons that could possibly bring this many individuals together, including people from the Spades and the Diamonds, at a seemingly joyous dinner party. and once they’re done delivering their scripted praises and passionate speeches on why working together is ideal and mutually beneficial, the fun comes when xavier presents his prepared rejection with a feigned, apologetic smile. he watches as their expressions change before they excuse themselves with a phone that hasn’t rang and a dark cloud looming over their heads.

he’s in a relatively good mood tonight, having successfully closed a deal that’s essential to one of the latest activities. everything is going just as he has planned for it to, except it has conveniently slipped his mind that inviting the Diamonds means it is an open possibility for a certain individual to turn up. and the figure whom he has spotted from across the room serves as a prompt reminder of what he has forgotten, including the incident itself. xavier’s never been one for much display of emotions but the sting of betrayal does linger around longer than expected and that’s too much to his liking and sometimes it irks him; other times he finds himself pondering briefly over possible reasons, though rarely. nevertheless his unreadable expression doesn’t falter, gaze trained on the figure for a moment longer, not quite paying attention to whoever that is standing in front of him and attempting to strike up a random conversation.

renovatingvirtues

If it’s darkness we’re having, let it be extravagant.

Jane Kenyon, from Taking Down (The Tree)

#.i

first impression.

files stacked neatly on his desk, he reaches for the one atop of the pile and flips through yet another profile, similar to the previous one that he has just read. through the years there have been countless attempts to break down the various security walls set up and they have managed to fend off almost every of one them. those who have successfully have made it past and gained access to the system and files no longer matter, because the dead tells no tales, information buried with their last breaths drawn. but as of late there have been signs of such attempts yet again, shown from the recorded data that their systems and trackers have managed to capture, and xavier’s not about to sit around and wait till they manage to break through their security system before busting their asses. but to do that he’s going to need people -- experts, a new team of them dedicated to this, not just experienced ones but the quick thinkers and the fast fingers.

two swift knocks on his door and the voice that sounds from the outside tell him it’s time, and his assistant enters after having been granted the permission to. xavier hands him the files that have been selected from the pile and set aside for interviews, and the other takes it with a i’ll call them over now and a bow and exits the room. he then takes the time to proceed on with viewing the rest of the files before the first interviewee arrives.

“come in”

#jiyeonxda #r.jiyeonxda #a.first impression

missmymusic

#.xav

❝ champagne and red ;

nanaxda:

She can only smile, thin her eyes, and tilt her neck; his gaze is too heavy–magnetic even in the sea of luxury they’re in, even though the walls glimmer, chandeliers wash them in light. Even if the world around them is bright and pulsing with life, laughter, as though communal like the chatter they hold, Jinah finds all her attention on Xavier’s dark eyes. They seem like deep pools of color, a depth she finds herself lost in; she wonders how many secrets they hold, how many scenes they’ve witnessed; she wonders if they’ve ever twinkled out of love, darkened out of anger. Though, before she fades away from reality, before its weight lifts and she finds herself floating in fantasy, she anchors herself with her own voice, a string of syllables she wraps around her lips, pushes out with a purse.

“Xavier, I knew you were a gentleman, but my lipstick color is so specific; how do you do that? How’re you so aware of all those tiny details?” she asks through a smile, a sliver of joy that’s subtle, delicate. Like petals blossoming and the curved lines they draw with gentle precision. Her body even presses closer, a tender dismissal of the space between them–it’s redundant, something that always comes to an eventual end.

he lowers his gaze, line of vision crossing hers and there’s a moment of eye contact. realization dawns upon him then that there aren’t many times when he has taken a proper look at those gorgeous brown orbs, hidden behind the cosmetics and brushes of various colours and occasionally contacts ( if his memory isn’t faulted ), but they shine all the same. their time spent together is usually lost in sensuous touches and eager kisses, a clouded mind, dimmed lights and barely enough air for the both of them.

a soft hum reverberates from the back of his throat, drowned by the tune in the background when his focus is drawn back to the woman in front of him. he dips his head down, lips almost brushing against her ear before he whispers, “secret”.

an amused grin dons his features when he draws back, glancing down at her yet again. “i kid, but damn i was about to place a bet, and if i was right i’d test that new lipstick.” the music changes then, and he promptly steps away from the dance floor, an arm wound around her waist as he does so, heading for the table where the champagne’s at.

daxgil

Casual↠Gil & Xavier

daxgil:

“Which was why I told them to lay off the ladies for you. Unless, you would like to see one - or some - of them for a change?” He made no heed of the intruding comment, knowing that if he really was, Xavier would have no problems kicking him out of the room instead. Fingers curled around the bottle of wine, the lounge manager let out a laugh, “apple juice? I wasn’t aware of your tastes regressing in age. But our client’s wish is our command.”

The bottle of wine was pulled towards him onto the counter of the mini bar, the man proceeding to rummage through the fridge in search of any apple syrup or juice, and found a few apples. Better yet. A bit of brandy, a couple of chopped apple bits, the other half made into juice topped up with quality wine, and an alternative, Gil-branded Sangria was ready to be served.

“Enjoy, sir,” he hummed, setting the glass onto the table, slipping into an empty seat of his own. The use of formality was more of a tease, because they’ve certainly moved past the usual courteous greetings. Small smile hung on his lips as he crossed his legs, the man leaned into the seat. “Haven’t seen you popping by in a while - been busy?”

“no, not today.” he responds, giving a shake of his head with a soft laugh despite knowing the other hasn’t actually meant to do as he has said. “and since when have you been one to care about age?” a grin upon his face as he rubs a thumb lightly along the rim of the empty cup in front of him.

he glances up when the other seems to be rummaging and looking for something, his brows raised slightly in question at the sight -- considering the bottle of wine is already on the counter. it doesn’t take the other man much time before he pulls out a couple of apples from the fridge and god knows why he keeps fresh fruits in there, and apples of them all. when gil sets the glass in front of him, it’s like xavier’s served with an imminent reminder of how he should’ve known the importance of his rights as a customer. fair enough, at least the man’s doing his job pretty well.

“if it’s unsatisfying, it’s on you” the grin on his features fades when his lips touch the glass. sweet, and fruity, with a scathing and bitter aftertaste, but better than he has expected. he rolls his lips inwards, giving a quiet hum in response. “pretty much.” no elaboration given, and he leaves it as that before turning to glance over at the other with a grin. “been hanging out at this other pub. it’s new. amazing services, better drinks and friendlier manager.” words with the mere intention to tease, and he raises his glass, gesturing. “you should consider putting this on the menu, it’ll get you more customers”

#a.casual #r.gil

milestone.

#a.milestone #r.crys #( past )

crysxda:

sure, getting off work at 3pm is probably what most people would consider early, but considering the fact that she hasn’t left the ‘office’ since coming in at 7am the previous morning, she feels as though she’s earned at least a semblance of a break. it’s a different sort of exhaustion, now, not the bone deep kind that seeps numbness through your skin until you’re sure you could keep running for days on end - but the kind that makes your eyes itch and fingers ache and your head starts pounding as though to remind you that it’s been trapped with the same numbers for days and wants release of any sort.

on her way home, she flips her phone open to text xavier, letting him know that she’s on her way home already (in case he’d been planning on visiting her at work) in order to…feel like herself again. she doesn’t say anything more, knowing that he’ll know she means she needs to shower, nap, and eat. she fully expects him to show up later, and honestly, it doesn’t bother her in the slightest - she hasn’t seen him in a while anyhow. after showering and napping (on wet hair, nonetheless, and that says something about how tired she is) it takes her a good half an hour to dispel the fog of sleep upon waking up. not even bothering to change out of her pajamas - she really does plan on just sleeping again after eating dinner and maybe seeing what’s on the television later - she starts up the stove and starts cooking. it’s a sort of a release, for her, not simply something to occupy herself with but something she enjoys doing for herself - and for others, she concedes, as she realizes she’s begun preparing some of xavier’s favorite foods. serving everything onto plates and setting the table, she starts eating, suddenly aware of just how hungry she’s been, having not eaten since at least 12 hours beforehand. it’s then that she hears the front door open, and a small smile plays over her lips as she waits for him to take his spot. she knows she looks awful, all mussed hair and swollen eyes and dark circles, spots of color high on her cheeks from sleeping too long and dull clothes too baggy on her body but honestly, she’s just so glad to see him. “i wouldn’t have to go to the grocery store as often, that’s for sure.” she grins, looking up at him as he sits down, “don’t you have your own apartment, idiot?”

she looks weary, drained. the first things he notices when he glances across the table are the darkened shades of her eye bags, her almost listless gaze and the disheveled strands that’re still looking damp. despite the smile that adorns her lips, he sees the exhaustion, and makes a mental note to tuck her in bed before he leaves. the endearing sight of her has his smile widening as he picks up the pair of chopsticks.

“i’ll go with you then, get carts-full of food and problem solved” reaches his chopsticks for the nearest dish, filling himself with a mouthful of rice after. “i-oo” he responds while chewing, before swallowing the mouthful of food, chopsticks reaching for another dish. “i do,” he repeats “but there’s nothing to eat there, and i’m starving. plus you make really good food.” grins, chewing on a mouthful of scrambled eggs, not forgetting to fill her bowl with a serving of every dish he has generously helped himself to while he’s at it. “hyung’s out of town, and left everything on me so all i’ve been hearing all day are numbers and names and more numbers and more names” he’s used to addressing his mentor as hyung, a habit, despite the age difference and the fact that the elder feels more like a father at times. but the latter option complicates things in one too many ways, and so hyung it is.

“have you slept at all since i last saw you?” lifts his gaze and glances in her direction. he doesn’t voice it, but there’s concern laced in the tone of his words. “and that was two days ago”

milestone.

[ 07:25pm ]

when the meeting finally concludes after what seems to be decades, he takes a brief glance at his lock screen and realizes he has yet to have any proper meal for the day. the last time he’s eaten something is...this morning -- a bagel for breakfast, and at least three cups of coffee throughout the rest of the day. he’s the first out of the conference room, signalling the dismissal of this meeting, and he ponders briefly over what to have for dinner. that is, until he recalls a conversation with crys earlier today, and now he knows where to settle his dinner for the night.

the drive to her place takes slightly longer than expected, especially with the dozen of traffic lights -- or red lights to be exact -- he has encountered on the way and the fact that the building he’s been in is slightly further from the center of Seoul. he wastes no time in getting into the lift after parking his car though, a thumb punching the button of her floor number before making his way to her door step as though it is his apartment that he’s returning to. but that’s just the way things have been, with the kind of comfort level that exists between the two -- enough for him to drop by without a word prior to doing so, and invite himself in with the pass-code that has probably etched in his mind deeper than his own passwords ( even on occasions where she’s not at home ).

he toes his shoes off, closing the door behind him and the lit kitchen tells him that she is indeed home and having dinner. he has showed up empty-handed with nothing to appease her of his abrupt visit, but he knows certain ( in fact, almost all ) formalities are waived between them. heading over to the kitchen with stealthy steps, his lips curve into a soft grin as he invites himself over to the table, settling in a chair opposite from her with a somewhat sheepish expression donning his features.

“all my favourites for dinner, what would you do without me finishing some of this for you?”

#a.milestone #r.crys #{ cues shameless xav #crysxda #( past )

❝ champagne and red ;

nanaxda:

She’s glad she doesn’t have to speak her request, that the silent glances, the softened pleas, have done their job; they relay her message along with subtlety, and with those same, tender movements, she moves along with Xavier towards the floor. Jinah never asks if he enjoys dancing, though he probably hates it by the clues he gives her, his reluctance, his time limit. But her mind is too blurred with possibility to quite make sure; everything’s hazy, she can’t pick out definites, can’t pluck absolutes.

All she can notice is the glimmer above them, falling like fractured moonlight, cut up by the ocean waves–a glimmer, a languid declaration of piece. She falls under its spell and moves along, sways quietly, slowly, as though pulled by the breath of the sea, pushed when it swells. She notices, too, the lines of his face, the way they carve handsome features, from rounded eyes to attractive lips; even to the endearing way his ears don’t quite follow the rules, the way they rotate, stick out; she finds him mesmerizing, even more now that the lights seem to frame him, that the music seems to bend around him, to curl, envelop him.

Her arms wrap around his neck, pull him close; her feet fall into the patter of dance. They move on their own when she allows music to guide them, his figure as well. “You look handsome tonight. I like you in that suit.” she tells him, murmurs it against the music. Even the ribbon of her voice seems to tilt, spin, and move along with the music, as if dancing as well. “You should wear it around me more often.”

he dips his head down, forehead almost brushing against hers while they move to the soothing tune. it isn’t that he can’t dance, he just doesn’t dance, and very much prefers not to if given the choice. but her intention and anticipation is clear as day and he sees it in her eyes, so here they are on the dance floor.

a grin spreads across his features in response to her comments, and he lifts his gaze to meet that of hers. “full suits are boring, too formal.” he gives a soft hum and draws a quiet breath after, inhaling the scent of her perfume and her shampoo and possibly a flavoured lipstick at such close proximity. “but you’ve always been gorgeous, exceptionally so tonight.” his gaze goes over the way make-up highlights her distinct features, and that faint shade of flush across her cheeks that’s either the blusher or the result of the champagne they’ve had earlier. this woman’s beauty is ( more often than not ) far too enticing for xavier to resist -- which probably explains the current relationship between the two -- and he slides both hands around her waist, clasped together at the small of her back to bring her closer. “and is that a new lipstick?”

❝ champagne and red ;

nanaxda:

The tilt of his head draws her in; her own head wants to turn, lips suddenly cold with the craving of a kiss from the handsome man to her side. But she remains as she is because the chatter around them settles, the lights drown out her desires–they remind her that she’s in public, he’s a figure. Every action is amplified, every consequence grows; even though it’s harmless, nothing but innocent, she decides to shroud it in privacy. It can’t hurt her if she keeps it to herself.

Though she does let herself smile, lets her lips curl back, her teeth shine. She turns to him only to gaze for a moment, to map the lines of his features, his expression, find any secrets he might find. “Well, I’m used to Xavier–so I’ll say Xavier. It’s the closest option.” she says through a smile, words sloping to match it.

Jinah turns to face forward again, to continue delving into the delicacy of the sights, the lull of moving crowds that pulse as people enter and leave; as though it’s alive, as though it breathes. She finds it charming, mesmerizing. She stares before the music slips into her ears, settles between them; she knows this song, its slow, somber beat; she remembers hearing it a couple of times, not enough to craft a memorable instance but enough to hold familiarity.

Quiet blankets her as she watches the crowd splinter as couples break off, gather on the dance floor; they dance, movements slow, steps steady and neat. They move around like notes of a song all pulled by the gentle tug of the song, pushed by its sight, like leaves scattered by a breeze. Jinah’s cheeks lift, her eyes thin. She smiles as they dance before her head turns, just as slow, to glance at Xavier. “I love that song.”

he gives a soft laugh in response, “damn, maybe i shouldn’t have put myself on that scale, bad move”. his gaze settles briefly on her expression and the way her rosy lips curl into a smile, and he almost caves and leans in for a kiss but he stops himself when she turns away. the amused grin still upon his features as he reaches his free hand out for an offered glass of champagne off the tray.

the commotion from the various interactions going on simultaneously begins to quieten and he glances up from the half-empty glass to be greeted by the sight of slow waltzing, gentle steps and light swaying to the soothing tune playing in the background. but xavier thinks nothing of it until he turns and meets the eager gaze of his date, glancing up at him with much anticipation, and he furrows his brows slightly with a look of bewilderment. “not dancing, nana-”

for the briefest moment he’s determined, but he knows he can’t quite say no to that lovely smile of hers and granted she has agreed to attend this boring evening with him, so he owes her that much. he breathes a sigh eventually, tipping his glass over to finish the rest of the champagne before setting it down on the nearest table. “alright c’mon” he guides her towards the dance floor, a hand pressed to the small of her back before he stands at a suitable spot, pulling her close with both hands resting on the side of her hips. “5 minutes” presses his tone down into a hushed whisper before he sways lightly to the melody, bringing her along with it.

daxjunhyung-blog

❝ sans voir