첫사랑이었다

I - nuh uh… where ? /glares playfully, walking towards him at a slow pace. You’re teasing me because you didn’t get me any flowers. I better at least get a kiss. 

     ❝Whenever she’s happy.❞

A pause.

     Silence.

     There’s a thought that ran through his mind at that moment then, gaze staring awfully serious at the words that somewhat screamed at him through the darkness of his world. He seemed rather expressionless to those who observed him from a short distance, curiosity looming within them as seconds passed without a word heard from the man since he opened the message. He hadn’t moved either, just stilled in his seat, fingers curled comfortably around the phone with his thumb hovering just above the screen. 

     And then he sighed, the words disappearing to black before him, the device shoved back into his suit jacket’s pocket not a second too soon.

     “Sorry,” He started in English, barely a change or a twitch amongst his features, “My dog laid a massive shit on the rug and my neighbour’s panicking.” As words were said, laughter echoed through the boardroom, all put into ease once again. “But yes, where were we up to?”

     “Your contract, John.” Another answered.

     “Right,” Clasping his hands together on top of the table, John allowed a smile to grace his face as he leaned back against the backrest of the chair, “And who is this poor person that managed to piss off twelve people altogether?”

     Question was out in the air, uncertainty flooding the atmosphere as heads turned to give each other a look. But nonetheless, John merely sat at the end of the table, patience keeping him sane until one of his supposed employers spoke up with the answer that he sought. 

     And as they explained the situation, he couldn’t help but take a deep breath as his focus wandered elsewhere momentarily; specifically to the message, but no one needed to know that, right? 

     He had then let his attention fall onto his hands. His smile was gone, his gaze had gotten colder, and his brows furrowed together. He suddenly felt homesick, which was actually the first in consideration of the fact that he never had a home to be sick for in the first place.

     But no, he couldn’t go back. Not yet, anyway, not when he was so close to finding another one of the bastards that ordered the torture on the very woman that had indirectly sent him too far from where she was.

     “John, you with us?” Someone asked him, pulling the assassin out of his reverie.

     “Still here.” He replied as he fixed his façade back into place effortlessly.

@teejane.

It had been a whole hour since he got on the train; a whole hour spent in silent reverie as the man merely stared at the passing countryside. He was at peace.

By the window across from her was where he sat, a novel (Persuasion, by Jane Austen) in hand in spite of it remaining unread. Though frequently enough did he manage to drag his eyes away from the changing view outside, only to glance at Janey whenever she crossed his empty thoughts. He smiled each and every time he had done so, albeit unbeknownst him at first as it was almost always done unconsciously as one would have said. But by God would he have been stupid if he were to not smile at the sight of her; beautiful, angelic, and one-of-a-kind, as lovely and as warm as the sun. But unfortunately, John was barely a sappy man to say such a description out loud.

He then began to stare at her as he usually did whenever he was graced with her company. He ran through his plan in his head and ticked all sorts of things off the ‘list’. At that point, John most definitely confirmed with himself that he had it all planned out, this surprise to which he had for the one and only birthday girl. And although he was not quite the type to plan ‘unnecessary’ outings, let alone surprises, he figured that he could have allowed himself to do so during a time such as then. It was, after all, an extended celebration for the existence of a woman whom he often called his.

His.

Mine.

He looked down at the open book in front of him as a grin forced itself onto his softened features.

/sms. [ download ] ◕▿◕✿

@gcldenhour  /sms. HAPPY ( ONE MONTH ) ANNIVERSARY MY SEXY DARK ANGEL !!!  /sms. I made a sexy video for you ◔◡◔✿ /sms. [ download ]

Hi, yes, I’m alive.

I’d just like to apologise for my lack of activity-- university started on Monday, and I was too stressed last week to do anything... so... yeah.

I’m all good though, and I’ve been somewhat more active on AIM, truth be told. So if anyone needs my attention or would like to interact with Jae-Won, just find me @s.ajinsul.

There’s also Line, so feel free to ask for that.

His story forces her to think about something she’d been curious about before, but always careful of with him – John’s past. She knew his parents were no longer with him, deceased or estranged, and he’d yet to meet her own father, or inquire how she’d lost her mother. 

The model resists the urge to hold her breasts and try to discretely check for lumps; a paranoia that always returned when she thought to hard about the method of her mother’s passing. She doesn’t want to bring it up so instead she picks at John’s little opening instead.

 "Was your father any good at it, even if you weren’t ? how often did you too skate together ?“

 she’s unaware of any discomfort she may be causing by forcing him to elaborate on his dishonesty; she doesn’t imagine he would lie to her so she takes everything he’d tell her as truth. in answer to his inquiry, she positions herself by the passenger door and smiles, letting the transition in language go smooth and uncontested. "I open my own doors unless a man insists.”

Well, he hadn’t insisted and went straight to the driver’s seat. It wasn’t a habit of his to perform such acts when it came to women, though he deemed it polite to ask in consideration of the background he knew she had. But if she were to tell him that doors were usually opened for her, then he would have done just that without a form of complaint being thought or spoken of—albeit a small form of a teasing remark, though that barely came as a surprise.

For @teejane

He wasn’t one to stare, but he was most definitely staring then.

He took note of every curve and angle her face had offered; the lines of her lips, the slant of her nose, the shape of her eyes, and even the way her jaw met with her neck. He paid close attention to the tiny details, admiring them from where he sat across from her, the buzzing sound of the café all but noise to him.

Again, he wasn’t one to stare, but he couldn’t help but do so then.

She had a form of uniqueness to her, the sort that captivated him in more ways than one. And for a man who had lived life for no less then twenty-seven years, one would have thought that he would have found such profound beauty numerous times; more so in consideration of the fact that he was a constant traveller. 

He had seen the treasures that nature had kept in secret, the landscapes and life that each and every culture was known for. Though if we were to move on to the topic of something much more physical, it was a well-known fact that he had witnessed the smiles of temptation, the bodies and accentuated figures of women who managed to capture his attention every once in a while. And at the end of the day, he met most with lust flowing through his finger tips and empty kisses—nothing more, nothing less.

But of course, that was before he had met her.

Was he a changed man? No, for a man like him was hard to change within such a short span of time. However, it would have been a lie if he were to say that she didn’t change the whole world, or at least his perspective on it. As cliché as it was, it was an honest truth to which he realised far too well for his liking, for his attachment to her only grew when it wasn’t supposed to. And the more he allowed himself to stay around her – or her around him, he was never quite sure – the more he found her to be that one thing in his life that he had needed but was simply undeserving of it.

Although in the end, he felt it, the emotion of love that was so commonly spoken of.

He fell in love with her, slowly but surely and there was barely a thing he could have done about it. He loved the innocence she had in contrast to the life he led, and he loved the warmth she posed whenever she smiled, giving him the determination to protect her even more. She was perfect, he had said so numerous times, in both in his head and beneath his breath. And he loved her so dearly, perhaps even far too much for a man who’s only known about life and death since he took a grasp of the world’s meaning.