city and color

midday traffic spills all around her. everything is too loud and the air is too brisk, biting at her cheeks as she brushes through a quick goodbye. what the hell was his name again? she hopes the sweet smile will make up for her lackluster attention.

all she can really see is the red in his eyes. the purposeful calm of his stride. the tip of her tongue as it swipes along dry lips. she's not nervous, no.

just at a complete loss of words is all.

silence runs uncomfortable and prolonged. like static. like the lull in her train of thought when she starts to wonder why a defensive excuse was the first to slip by her crooked smile. “why're you getting so worked up?” a sour twist to her expression before, “what’s up your ass?”

[ kkt: ㅁㅊㄴ ] ? [ kkt: ㅁㅊㄴ ] 바쁜데 어딘지는 왜 물어봐 [ kkt: ㅁㅊㄴ ] 오기 싫음 말던가 ㅡㅡ

( & july. ) he heaves a laughter with a pound of effort, because it’s just so damn painful. it’s all the more challenging because he sees the exasperation in her expression, yet his cuts and bruises feel like they’re shouting for mercy whenever he takes a breath to laugh. so there is july, hands latching onto the side of his stomach to howl his amusement away. he also greatly appreciates the way she takes a deep breath before carefully lacing her words, because she’s probably oh-so-very-done with his bullshit at this point.

“yeah, and that explains why ‘ya stick around all the time. good one, ji.”  july dusts off his remaining laughter as he straightens his back, suppressing a grimace as the soreness comes back around his way. it’s kind of hard to realize how much pain you’re in when you’re having too much fun; fun as in messing around with jieun, annoying jieun, angering jieun, and just jieun. though her reaction could’ve been much better, he doesn’t complain and deems that he’s thrashed enough spoofs around for the day. not to mention he’s barely holding the urge to just sprawl all over the street, he’s dead-beat!

“if not, are ‘ya gonna carry me home?”  he snorts and taps her back to cue their walk back to her apartment. a path he’s taken a few too many times to be considered reasonable, something that goes against his whole essence, the big game. it bothers him, but he tells himself ‘just for today.’ a line that he’s also recited far too many times, but he uses the whole beat-up thing as another excuse. “don’t complain if you get blood all over your couch. it was your call.”

she cringes at the effort. and by that, she means the way his lungs give out with every bit of laughter he squeezes out. ( or tries to, anyway. ) there’s something to be said about the way he always tries to pick at her nerves. push at her buttons. even if it means he’ll end up bleeding out on the goddamn street. 

“i know you’re happy to see me, but you need to calm down.” seriously. with another roll of her eyes, this time much more obvious than the last, she considers kicking him right in the shin. maybe then, he’d learn to clean up that mouth of his. maybe then, he wouldn’t be scouring around the city in negative-who-the-fuck-knows-degree weather. so much for good samaritan values. 

( & july. ) it’s an odd mix of both stubbornness and defiance that has him trudging. he still peers adamantly when she speaks to him with a tone laced with benign disaffection, tugging at his wrist. half-dried blood makes it harder for him to see, and he crinkles an eye. july doesn’t feel like unveiling whatever that is keeping him headstrong about going with her acts of concern; he just knows that he hates the idea of getting used to things that are ‘better,’ or any picture with two, not one. one being himself, singular.

          “if ‘ya wanna fix beat-up things on the road, go pick up some strays out here instead.” a moment is spared before her hand on his wrist is shaken off, his moue steadfast and unyielding. he doesn’t really know if he’s bothered by the fact that she cares, or the way he’s treated with some sort of pity. maybe both, but july also hates overthinking! whatever he’s dissatisfied with, he’s dissatisfied with–––and that thought transitions right into a frown.

          “don’t treat me like some helpless dog, i’m not dyin’ out here. also not dyin’ to get to your place, i just happened to bump into you on my way. unluckily.”  he sneers past all the aches on his body, the sole motive of bantering her driving his almost-empty stamina. he can either walk his beat-up ass back to where the boys are, or compliantly follow her back to her house–––yet he stalls obvious decisions, soley for untimely shenanigans between him and jieun: a classic!

“get over yourself,” is said with a prompt roll of her eyes. something that ripples across a neutral expression, quick and fleeting. she gives him that much of a reaction. it's all she can do to stop herself from bursting out into laughter, from wounding an ego she knows is too big to be true.

“i've seen strays that look better.” a pointed look, shot up and down his frame until it lingers on the cut above his eye. her fingers curl into her palm. unfamiliar with the tempting itch to reach up and just --

she sighs. a puff of air blown up at her fringe before she shoots him another look. a look he's familiar with by now. 

inhale.

( i'm gonna beat your ass myself, you little shit. ) 

exhale.

“good. don't.” she wrinkles her nose out of habit. there are times when she feels a little too childish. feels like lai has shaved a couple years off her conscious (and height), and is standing loud and proud, just to prove it. she frowns. this time, out of spite.

“i don't love you that much yet, either. but you're bleeding all over the goddamn floor.”

in some ways, it's true. he's got bloodstained pants, bloodstained skin, bloodstained goddamn everything, and jieun can't find anyone else to blame but lai himself. she meets his gaze head on, eyes set in scrutinizing slivers. mouth twisted in that way that proclaims her inner turmoil over her sentiments towards the situation as a whole. towards lai in general. what a fucking pain in the ass, she thinks. and yet,

“c'mon, loser.” fingers curl around his wrist. too tender to be labeled as anything but outright sympathy for the kid. for now, anyway. she sighs, tightens her grip, and tugs him just like that - all the way down the street.

( kkt // 지은 누나♥) so? - noooooo bc 1 - im not loopy - two! - these docs dnt look pretty to me - no regrts!!!