Firm kick is granted to nearby box, tongue clicked against roof of mouth as extremity are forced into pocket; his brow furrowing out of mild irritation. Had he known it’d be so much trouble to move dance studio from one location to another he wouldn’t have made those student that had lingered behind go home before unpacking had occurred. It’s not much yet it just enough to piss him off. “You could help.” He groans outward, gaze flickering to opposite frame as extremity raises from pocket to rest palm against nape of neck, rubbing against warm flesh as if it would distill sudden pain that shoots along spine. He’s been practicing too hard, pulling back to back all nighters and expecting them not to come back and bite him on the ass. 

    It’s all for the greater good, he’s convinced himself of this, moving into a more populated area would be more fitting than what small place he’d rented out months before. Not expecting studio to take off as it’d done, he’d been surprised when more room was demanded. So, with a little dip into his trust fund and lawful advice of his older brother, Gabriel had made purchase of new studio; one of much large size and more desirable location. He’s taking seat in a single motion, back pressing to mirrored wall of studio, cool surface a tad soothing compared to non-air conditioned room. Sigh escapes, parting ample tier, as dark orb are tossed to opposite frame once more; curiosity brimming in their hue. “Do you like the place? It’s a bit bigger than I expected but....I wanted somewhere that felt like -- home.”

       She doesn’t believe him when he says it. At least in a strong enough sense that he’s willing to pull up his own shirt and give her evidence straight up without a sense of shame. Then again, hadn’t Gabriel always been a bit -- shameless? Even as a child he could recall a time of school suspension he’d served for pulling down his pants during class in order to prove a point to classmate seated beside him. Of course, it’d been a bad idea, yet at the time he’d been so heated in defense for himself it hadn’t mattered -- and given the shit ton phone numbers he’d received afterward, it’d been worth it. So, it’s no wonder he’s easily one to flash nipple to female who is seated upon his sofa, a bag of chips and popcorn separating them like some type of junk food wall during their boring marathon of D-listed horror movies ( that of which proved more funny than frightening ).  He points out a single bar, oh so obviously pierced through thin flesh, “See, I told you, I got it done last night.”  Tongue sticks out in a rather childish manner, unfitting of a man soon to be twenty-three in two months, as if to prove his point. 

       Step by step has been practiced for as long as memory allows, each step trained to precision since ripe age of three; when bones finally began to settle in their proper placing. Not that Gabriel had been against it. No, it had never been a cliche tale of child forced to fulfill his parents dreams. They only dreamed of what made him happy, even if said happiness was found in the pursuit of ballet. Even now, if he closes his eyes and thinks hard enough, he can smell the scent of his first dance studio. A sort of husky pine, building quiet old but still rather known through his neighborhood. Sure, Gabriel Song had grown up a spoiled child, such gift granted by his father whom had come into money when his parents had passed around their fifties. Gabriel’s mother taking his father’s hand when she was pregnant with him. Yet, his parents had been against too much spoiling, they too had come from hardship, nothing given over night, and had urged to younger boy to make his own way through school, only setting him up with basic needs. If he’d wanted to get into a good dance school he’d have to earn it. 

    Still, current studio he stands in now, so far from that which had been in Cali, reminds him of his first. It’s a tad nostalgic, truly, but he doesn’t have time to linger on nostalgia -- no, because now focus remained on dance that needed to be practiced and performed much too soon. He eyes female in room, their fifteen minute break, in order to collect their wits and steady breathing, was almost up. She looks just as tired as him, frustration furrowing her brow in a way, had he not been professional, he might have found cute. Disheveled locks are matted to her forehead, beads of sweat no doubt matching his own resting just along her brow, ready to fall down and cascade along flesh. Gabriel clears his throat, gaze returning fully to reflective surface of mirror as to not be caught in his own staring, 

      Her presence is as fresh as newly birthed spring. One notable part of character no doubt brought out by her own nymph nature. Her movements innocent and frivolous as one might have imagined a being of myth to be, yet, countless artists and poets couldn’t capture her entirety with words nor picture alone. So refreshing Autumn was, amusing that her name was referenced toward end of season life, a mere elated expression to part her ample tier equivalent to sunshine alone. Had it not been for his own stubbornness and resilience toward change, Gabriel may have fit into her life a bit easier. Rather being her opposite in most ways, he could conform to her bright disposition, become someone who could actually smile without a single hitch or forced attitude. Alas, this was not him and unlike female, life for him had not been an easy one.  Like most, there had be bumps long stretch of road that bore his life, yet, unlike most -- he had not fully recovered from each; most of his steps adorn with thorns.

   Delicate is his touch, tracing here and there with a feather light semblance, mimicking what he’d seen but never what he could produce alone.  It’d been like this for as long as he could recall, boy lacking what most would deem empathy toward others, preferring his solace over company of others. At least the company that lasted longer than needed, he hated those that lingered, those that thought that perhaps they could ‘mend’ him in some way. Yet, there wasn’t and never would be something broken. She changes his perspective, if just faintly, makes him desire to linger instead of draw back; scent honey-like scent that seeps from her pores often intoxicating. An he hasn’t touched her, at least in a sense of deep intimacy. Neglecting to taint a perfect angel if there ever was one until very last second. Until there resided no other option. He is dirtied, from tips of digit down to his toes, someone or perhaps something who doesn’t deserve to remain so close. 

      the girl was rather perplexed by the male’s question. of god? she wasn’t all too religious but she was still a christian that believed in him. she bit her lip, thinking about how to phrase her answer but decided to throw all thoughts away and reply directly. “i guess you can say that. why do you ask? are you?” 

Afraid of God?

     When faced with his own inquiry pushed back into his face, Gabriel merely blinks, showing no signs of disruption nor confusion, and instead exhaling a soft sigh. Afraid of God? had he ever been afraid of anyone? much less a deity that many had over glorified. “I asked because I am curious, why else?” chortle erupts, along with it a brief flashing of pearly whites. Gabriel had never been fear struck over God, n o, instead he’d felt more fear in thinking he’d die too early before his dreams completion. 

⋘ @haestro​⋙        .meme reaction 

“Yes --” 

              reply comes dryly, component to be placed next in order to complete new cabinet installment falling apart before final screw could be set. He groans, irritability building and head throbbing from sheer annoyance. Why, you may ask, is a spoiled brat of a man seated upon floor surrounded by blueprint instructions and screws ( suffering ), instead of hiring some other poor soul to come put together contraction? Well, because this man was facing a sense of pride over sensibility  -- his father only hours ago, while on phone, stating something about how his mother shouldn’t have babied him too much and that any man with a screwdriver an a brain could install a kitchen cabinet. That, had been final straw -- sting to his pride.  

     “I am installing this...delicately --” sharp his is made, screwdriver tossed across room in a bought of frustration as he attempts to manually shove piece into its proper placing, “obviously--handling... with --” he shoves white panel down, sound of metal clanking to floor resounding in kitchen, “c a r e.” it’s clear to see that Gabriel Song held no true patience for such trivial and more so mundane activities. Hissing under his breath a strew of ‘fucks’ and ‘goddammit’ could be heard filling kitchen once cabinet had given it’s last breath, falling apart in his hands. Closing lid, tightly shut, he falls back against tiled floor, wanting nothing more than to throw childish tantrum over fact his last 4 hours of work had been in vain. “end me now.”

⋘ @tzuchu​⋙        .meme reaction L a z i n e s s.

       There was no other word to explain his sudden desire to indulge in sloth; limbs refusing to move inch. Still sore from previous day, Gabriel wonders how he even manages to open heavy lid, stiffened groan is slipping from parting tier the second female’s voice breaks through silence of bedroom; each subtle movement aching deep in his bones. Ah, yes, he’d held an nine and a half practice night before, not getting home until two am next morning, dragging his ass upstairs and into bed the hardest task he’d managed to fulfill. Clothing from previous night is still adorn as well, dark grey sweat pants, with black shirt holding bold white script along it’s side, and his hair still resembling that of a shagged mop into ( regrets of not washing it before bed seeping into his pores ). Gabriel allows groan to slip past his tier, sudden recollection of promise made day before hitting him like ton of bricks, “–shit.” 

     Strenuous effort is placed in pushing himself up, more so into a seated position, as digit come upward to carve path along scalp; still dazed from his rest. “….have you been waiting long–” his inquiry can be answered with a single glance to bedside table, clock screaming 12:05. It was like going through a hangover, minus all the pre-chugging of alcoholic beverages and wasted fun to be had, mind and body out of it – in sync with it’s disorientation.  Gabriel attempts to get a hold on reality, leaning back just enough to rest upon palm, squinting into a sunlight room that only reminded him that he’d neglected to pull back curtains in his search for bed-like sanctity as well.

⋘ @no-zomi​⋙

   It’s subtle, the way his eye twitches, feeling that shudder of discomfort course through his veins causing them to ice over as if he’d been dunked half naked into  frozen waters of the Arctic. Gabriel is half tempted to swing, truly his digit are twitching in desire to form fist and perhaps feel that oh so pleasant crunch of bone against bone. Ah, alas, it’s not a good time for him to be fighting and earning bruises. Really, male had picked a bad time or maybe a good time to bother him. “Yes, Jaybae –” he grits through half snarling denticle, his head tilting off to side in order to catch glimpse of male’s visage, his back otherwise turned away as stage make-up is being applied to his own visage by make-up artist that seems far more amused than himself. He’s getting ready for a performance ( filling in for dancer that happened to get hurt days before ) , seated in small waiting room while the others are off gallivanting backstage. “I wondered how someone might sneak themselves in here but, I’m not surprised seeing it’s you.” he snorts, fighting a sly smirk, “You’re like a fucking cockroach.”

    ⋘ @narivie​ ⋙ .meme reaction 

“My mom, huh.” 

    Gabriel scrolls through website, dark orbs trained on mobile in order to waste time until their flight happened to land back onto Korean soil. He’s amused, evident in way corner of mouth twitches, giving of semblance of grin.  It’s true, his mother held a fondness over female, one girl he’d managed to introduce to her. Too bad the woman’s dreams of marrying off her youngest son had died out with his news of a separation between the two. To be expected, ah, but nothing really lessened the crush of it. Not that it truly mattered to Gabriel himself, they were still on friendly terms, which said a lot for someone like himself that had always avoided such relations in past; probably for good reason.  

   He places mobile down and off to side seat table, head turning to allow gaze full view of feminine visage. Digit twitch to move away single strand of female’s lock that have stuck to long lash and urge his more than inclined to resist; instead going to mess with single string along shirt fabric, “She surely loaded you up on food and gifts before you left, like making some offering to a deity or some shit.” he snorts, “I think my mom likes you coming to see her more than me –” His mother was rather warm hearted, contrast to his father and himself, both of whom seemed to lack in a ‘delicate’ touch as his mother had once stated. 

     ⋘ @goresly​ ⋙ .six word sentences 

     Taking no for an answer was rare for Gabriel, he who desired everything and aimed to earn everything he desired was not one to easily back down. Carelessly tossing fabric of coat toward younger’s visage, shoe are practically shoved onto feet,   “Stop being a little bitch about it and get dressed.”  His words may come off too blunt if not insensitive, although, it’d be a lie to state Gabriel held a true desire to be empathetic toward others misery.  He’d honestly just never given much care toward petty grievances, at least those that could easily be mended if not forgotten and shoved away. Lingering onto one’s past, no matter time lapse, was useless, what’s done was done and in his mind had been inevitable from start. 

   Every action and word spoken leading toward regrets, even if deemed at time ‘accidental’, was intentional during that single moment of choice. There had and would always be a choice. Gabriel knew this from experience and despite his nonchalant demeanor and desire to not give a damn about anyone but himself, he too could shake under the quake of piled regrets. However, there was no use in lingering in them for too long. Especially when world outside promised a more optimistic view from yesterday’s woes. From the moment he’d walked into younger’s home and to the very second he’d stepped foot into male’s bedroom, Gabriel knew it’d be a headache to convince latter to join him on his otherwise shenanigan around downtown Gangnam. It was his free weekday and he’d wanted to make something of it, he’d be damned if he allowed a minor stone in the road to hinder his fun. 

     ⋘ @97miguri ⋙ .six word sentences

         Cue a rather drawn out and forced mock of laughter. Attempt to distill what nervousness, f e a r, he’d felt only moments ago while facing a rather extensive and detailed haunted house, was nothing more than a failure. Palm had grown sweaty, pressed against fabric of hoody in order to dissipate what had formed during his anxious state. Gabriel Song was not a scaredy cat, or at least he’d pretend not to be. Always one to delve into more horror genre when it came to film, laughing aloud whenever actors would meet there untimely doom, it was looked at differently when met with a real life situation. 

    His heart had been sent into rapid beats, palpitations only increasing the further they had delved into haunted contraptions confines. Dark walls painted in fake blood and viscera earning a cringed expression of distaste, however it hadn’t been decorative hallway and room that had gotten his mind into haze. No, it had been nothing more than a shrilled and well place scream, of actor that had gotten him to jump, nearly smacking female’s shoulder in his startle ( one action he’d played off by stating she’d held fuzz upon shirt fabric ) . 

    Near the end of this ‘exerting’ activity, Gabriel had turned paler than a ghost, which was saying a lot seeing as male already lacked true tone to his own flesh. When called out for his skittish actions, some of which involved him hitting back first against nearest wall in order to avoid grasping hands, his cheek nearly flush in heat of embarrassment. It wasn’t that he desired to look tough nor courageous in eyes of female, ah, he’d merely desired to keep a sense of calm in his otherwise nonchalant nature. To keep of facade of being one who did not grow fearful or shaken by such obvious ploys to earn a scream from one’s audience. 

⋘ @vigvr​ ⋙     .six-word sentences 

          Sound of can clanking against asphalt resounds down dank alleyway, hood tossed over head to escape from falling droplet. He’s bored, if that wasn’t evident enough, wasting time in those days were dance practice wasn’t filling up schedules. To him, Korea was a boring place foreign land to which he’d only known for three years; despite being full in his nationality, he found California soil to be his homeland. Place which had defined him as a child and eventually as a man. Even going to means of adopting his  Upon hearing mere observation, Gabriel can not help but allow chuckle to slip past parting tier; pearly whites of denticle barely visible. ❝yeah? Everyone?❞ It’s not a first for him to hear comment. Those hushed whispers of ‘asshole’ or ‘sleaze’, the guy who didn’t care about anyone, anything that didn’t involve himself or his own personal gain. 

⋘ @bj010894​ ⋙ .six-word sentence 

❝Mmmm…❞ 

        Inquiry takes moment or four….perhaps five, for him to even begin to process. He’d been sleeping. perhaps mumbling or even sleep talking, it would be a first. Gabe had been known to hold rather long conversations while still in clutches of sleep, even when he was younger he’d be told of his ramblings next morning. His mom always finding it rather – amusing, to say least. Not even surprised in least, why or how, he’s managed to end up in another’s bed, one more thing that wasn’t a surprise to him anymore. While there was no doubt in his mind he’d simply slept over, he doubts he’ll recall what had brought him to bed in first place. Then again he’d always been somewhat of a wanderer, like a drifter who seemed to make acquaintance with every stranger upon street.