cepid:
“Sometimes, yeah.”
He’s having a fuck of a hard time not stumbling over his own words. She’s giving him too many things to do at once after all: talking, watching her silhouette move around, listening, noticing the way she seems to have not even the concern of imperfection along any bit of her skin. “I mean, I… I do.”
He comes around the counter, now across from her. It’s purposeful, and he’s hoping the greater the distance, the less of how blatantly intoxicated he’ll feel around her.
All numbness, and even more drunkenness.
He’s never going to get used to that, he thinks.
“Jack’s my al… Jack’s my name.” Whether it’s the bit of coffee, or that his mind’s function finally kicking in, he bites his tongue from just barely mentioning Chanyeol amidst it all. He shakes his head, as if to shake off the buzz from both the booze from last night and her, and resumes. “It’s just easier for everybody that way. A lot of Jacks in the states, but not a lot of Jacks in Seoul.”
He’s only half-surprised at how much she claims of him blabbing off last night. That was the true enemy of the time, the 'last nights,’ and 'at the bars.’ Two places in the space continuum of time where his mind goes into hibernation and his mouth into over-auto-drive.
“Did I, now…” When he laughs at her, he’s giving himself a mental cut to the jaw instead.
He never means to be – for lack of better words, such a – guy, but even as she’s explaining herself, his eyes are constantly in between the grandeur of the sunlight hitting her cheek, to the way her lips form the shapes of the syllables she speaks. Her voice comes in and out, and his barely grasps onto the more important things amongst the conversation and requests, the only reason of his snap-out the touch. His hand remains still, because he’s not allowing himself to do anything else.
He’s never going to get used to this, he thinks.
“What… kind of materials, are we talking about?”
He was filled with jokes, wasn’t he? He wasn’t a particularly good liar, but she decided to let it pass. “You’re right, there aren’t a lot of Jacks around.” It wouldn’t take Hyejin long to give Jack an exact number of how many other ‘Jacks’ were around the city, but spared him that much. He looked nervous. The coffee in the mug she held came to a still, with the few minuscule bubbles left clinging to the sides desperate to be released.
(Get me out of here.)
It became clear to her that he really didn’t recall a damn thing, which wasn’t a bad thing, she supposed, but it wasn’t a good thing either. Getting him up to speed was agonizing, but it at least gave her the upper-hand. It also meant that he was actively attempting to think over what she was asking of him.
The spot she had picked out was starting to grow warmer, the sun causing the material that mimicked nerves to react just slightly—her cheeks flushed. The sensation registered itself immediately and was welcomed. Not too hot, but just enough to feel something worthwhile. Her fingers slid around Jack’s wrist as he looked at her, his lips moving with a response she wanted.
“Polymer thick film… but large rolls. Copper rolls, but that should be easy enough to get. A few other things, but that can come later. Just those for now.”
She slid her hand further down to grasp his, her thumb brushing against the back of his knuckles.
“And… if you know a chemist, it’d be great if they could help me with some things.”
It was fleeting, but she let go of his hand regardless. Calculations led Hyejin to believe this action would be enough for him now in terms of drawing him in. However, she owed Jack an explanation. Something that could go over his head but not too much so that it made her request difficult for him. “My work limits me with what I can do, so I have to scrounge up what I can for my own hobbies.” Time wasn’t an issue (though, in the grand scheme of things it was the biggest issue), neither was the skillset (for the most part), but getting someone else to acquire a few things for her while she sought after things she knew would be more difficult, well, it’d make life easier on her. “I know I could get some of them, but the quality matters a lot and…” she started to rush her words just slightly, a desperation that genuinely did not match how she really felt (multiple that). “I’ll repay you, of course. I wouldn’t ask for something for free.”
