* WHAT'S YOUR DAMAGE?

shinwon: hurry the fuck up, then

                 “ neither of us says the word LOVE, not once. it would be tempting f a t e ;                                               it would be romance,         bad luck. “

shinwon [UNSENT]: always, always.

shinwon: how convenient, considering i'm wearing ur favorite suit. x

shinwon: pick u up in five, and if u make me wait i will dump this latte out of the car i swear to god

shinwon: i dont know, ur words still wound me, darling, i'm ever so afraid to /love/ again

shinwon: fuckin rude. and here i was, thinking of inviting u out tonight

shinwon: swing by the office later and lets wine and dine.

shinwon: i appreciate the /maybe/ effort though, sweets. good on u.

shinwon: clearly i didnt keep u around for ur stories, then. yikes.

shinwon: thanks in advance, darlings, u all know how to make a birthday boy feel loved.

he’s not going to shy away from the fact that he absolutely adores her; being around naeun always leaves shinwon with a sense of calm he so rarely manages to attain, and he continually persists to be in her company as much as he possibly can, even with all the errands he has to do. “if my face is ugly to you, then you must be dining with the gods, darling.” he retorts, features sinking  into a playful frown as his hands reach to clasp over the other’s in insistence. “you’d look beautiful in a garbage bag, naeunnie –– and you act as if they’re not going to be looking at me in the first place.” the last part is spoken over rather hastily; complimenting the other too much leads him into uncharted territories he has yet to wade through, but nowadays the feelings that constrict around his chest are getting much, much harder to ignore. the one thing that constantly brought shinwon and naeun together was their common disbelief in the idea of love, but each time he was around the other he couldn’t deny the way his features softened at the mere sound of her name, the curve of her smile. “oh––” shit, shinwon thinks suddenly, noticing the way he’d been holding her hand for far too long, and he retracts almost immediately. “i’ll wait on the couch, but i swear to god if we have to leave three seconds later than planned i am celebrating on my own.”

“cute comeback, darling, did you get it from the 50s?” the biting wit in his tone easily masks his worry –– but shinwon is aware that taeil knows him enough to spot it, underlying each word he speaks. growing up with similarly successful families had led them to each other, after all; years of being around the boy’s presence led shinwon to be more protective of him than others he knew. “hmmm.” he hums in reply, deep in contemplation; you would know, taeil says, and shinwon has desensitized himself to the fact that yes, he actually would. “anything in particular get your gritches today? or is it just like .. the whole spectrum of fucked up, as it always is?” he pauses to intake a cigarette once more; the smoke that dangles at the opposite end of the stick makes him pause in slight amusement before it fades away, and shinwon faces taeil’s bare features once more sans the musk that had permeated the air only moments prior. “either way ... sounds like a real pain up your alley.”

he expects this is what having family feels like; with parents who were rarely around he’d never gotten the same sense of familial affection as others around him usually did. perhaps that was why he found solace in people like taeil –– kindred spirits, almost, both bruised by family ties that run beyond skin deep. when he met hana, however –– that alone had made all the difference, and now he can’t help the regret he feels each time he’s left alone with his “brother”’s wife-to-be, the soft pangs against his chest ones he tries so desperately to ignore. but then she laughs, and shinwon falls apart –– and to think, he thought he was so smart. “i’m glad you like them.” he says –– too sincerely for his own liking, but no, no, don’t think that now. eyebrows are quick to furrow as she continues to explain her condition; his head tilts, ever slightly, watches the way she is so soft, so delicate –– he could break her with so much as a few words, except one look always manages to pull him back ( it’ll be his downfall one day, he’s certain ). “you’re stronger than most would think; i’m sure you’ll be alright, hmm?” he nods, faith in her withstanding, before a free hand comes to rake through his hair in contemplation. “i’ve been fantastic, would you believe it; the job at the paper’s been boring me half to death, though, and if it’s not the desk job that’ll kill me the smoking probably will. –– speaking of ...” he brings a pack out of his pocket almost on instinct, wry smile accompanying the glint of his eyes. “shall we?”