la vita nuova

      “I tend to overreact, sometimes.” Just sometimes? “Baking helps with that. Or, um, not the overreacting but the soothing of it. There’s a certain precision and accuracy that it requires. Patience, too. Then, you get something really good out of it. It’s cathartic, as …” She hesitates, brow furrowing. “I actually don’t swear. Not that it bothers me if you do.” Her clarification is rushed, hands lifted with insistence. “It’s just never something I’ve considered. My guardians were strict about that in my childhood and it stuck. You can cuss as much as you want though. I don’t mind.” Her hands wiggle themselves, shaking with jazz. “Yay. Cussing! I love it.” Please shut up.

“Thank you,” His hand is relaxed in her grip, wrist acquiesced to her efforts to turn it over with little to no resistance, his eyes following the movements of the tissue as it’s wiped down his hand. It’s surprising, but not an entirely unwelcome attempt at apologizing, despite the breach of his personal bubble. Gaze watchful, though softening, Junho watches her scramble backwards to return the many items of her purse from whence they came, dry hand clutched in his own, thumb rubbing over the back of it. “Really, thanks. It’s all forgotten, I promise.” 

“I was thinking we could go to a café too, but the weather was actually pretty nice today.” He’s brought to a pause as he reclines in his seat, fingers once again curling around the shape of his coffee cup as he watches her fiddle further with her bag, a surprised laugh startled out of him as the scent hits him, immediately recognizable. “Banana bread,” It falls from his lips almost simultaneously as it does hers, curiosity undeniable in the shift in his posture, smile stretching his lips at the surge of memories - fond, comforting.

“It’s a good thing I brought something to drink, then, but I honestly didn’t even know if you liked coffee.” Tilting his head in quiet enquiry, Junho takes a bite out of the offered treat after pausing to savor the smell, finally tasting with his gaze downcast, resting on her purse as he processes. “I’ll be honest...” The teasing lilt in his voice is blatant as his chin tilts up, looking at their surroundings as if nonchalant, the smile on his face betraying his appreciation. “It’s really good, Areum.” Finally, meeting their gazes, he taps his fingers against the curve of his cup; a silent celebration. “It’s delicious, actually, thank you.”

antics.

“Hey, bitch.” He’s slouched, comfortable in another’s chair, elfish, amused by halfway swiveling, spun ‘round finally to flaunt himself, impudent. “Nice suit! I think it’s so cute when your sisters help you pick out your clothes.” His lean-forward, chin perched atop his opened palm with aforethought smirk. The commentary is deliberate, as though to emphasize luxurious opulence as it draped from him. Loose-fitting silks accentuated by black, cat-eye lens, as unnecessary as he had hoped it would be, juxtaposed to the monotonous, workplace environment. 

“I wish I had that going for me, but you know.” A little drawl in his voice altogether, unabashedly cliché, preppy. “I like to leave a good impression and not completely cede all individuality to the day-in and day-out rigmarole of a boring fucking life.” A smile, acute, applied with shimmering pressure. “I think it works for you, though. I mean …  Look at you. So gross.” A wink, seat rotated again. His transition is casual, enough to denounce any previous animosity, all of it impermanent banter in his mind. “I actually got that new place and a new boyfriend. It’s kind of incredible that I literally cannot lose, ever. I just triumph again and again in every situation life presents to me. It’s almost like it’s my destiny. I am sincerely just not meant to be like you.” Even turned away from him, the shape of his lips as he speaks is quite obvious. “Enough about me though. What’s going on with you, bestie? I feel like it’s been so long.”

@feyjunho

“No.” Exasperation forces the word out of him as soon as he’s met with the sight of his own chair swiveling to face him, ominous, despite the tell-tale scent of excessively expensive perfume wafting out of his office as clear as a primal warning of toxicity in the wild; reminiscent of scattering, poisonous critters. Salient in their coloring and unmistakable in their stench - their presence insistent, gaudiness of their beings intolerable - the comparison lacked ambivalence as Junho stepped into the room, mouth curled into a grimace more at the sight of the man before him than the images passing by in his mind.

colours

Kwangshik had grown accustom to the weight of a second person settling next to him where it previously would’ve been empty. A solitary witch was strange and unheard of, but it was preferential for the Jaeseung affiliate. Where he would have shied away in anxiety and uneasiness was now a subtle urge to lean into Junho and appreciate his company.

“Ah, well, I found it in storage actually.” his fingers trace over the seasoned pages with a breathy chuckle. “Must’ve been one of my family member’s grimoires. Maybe a great grandmother or something.” Mostly silent about his family, it was probably the most Kwangshik had mentioned them to anyone in a long time. It was almost like with recent events and meetings, it was slowly starting to feel safer to let the walls come down.

“A little bit.” The witch spares a glance over the familiar sat beside him. “It doesn’t make sense now, but I’m sure it will.” his eyes flicker between the pages and Junho when the frames caught his attention. There’s a pause as he observes the other male beside him, a fuzzy sensation warming his cheekbones and tip of his ears.

“I didn’t know you wore glasses. They suit you.” The witch had known before that the familiar wasn’t terrible looking in the face, but in that little confined space they shared at that moment, it was a strange shift. “You look good.”

“... Ah, so it’s an even more precious tome, then.” Junho hums in consideration, eyes following along the path trailed by the other’s fingertips, only partially focused on the words on the page. He was tired after work much like he was always prone to be, a hint of tension in his shoulders and a dull ache at his temples to attest the length of his workday, but he persevered through it, guided by a quiet, simmering desire to forge on. The discomfort would fade slowly into the back of his mind in tandem with his concentration coming to rest solely on Kwangshik, the text proving boring in comparison to the faint blush blooming over the top of his cheeks, noticeable in their closeness; under the warm light.

“why do you sound like a puppy who’s already won? i don’t like this,” shinwon admits, tone low and gravelly as his eyes swim along with the skipped title screen and menus. “and i don’t cry!” now it is he who smacks the taller man with his hand, affronted as ever. the game hadn’t started yet, and the line teeters between jest and honesty. ever the sourpuss in stark difference to junho’s jovial cheeriness, it pushes him on. he can do this, the voice in his head attempts to convince no one other than himself. moral support. self support. yea. “um, the…. swimming thing looks enjoyable… but seriously, what did you want to bet? i suppose you wouldn’t need money anyway,  whatever was i thinking, mr luxe and fancy,” a small smile finally breaks through his cloudy mood that games always conjured up, nose wrinkling as he leans in to junho’s personal bubble, boundaries that were never quite respected once broached from the start. 

“Personal favours? Mr Luxe and Fancy? God, you make me sound like some kind of rich creep.” He laughs out a mocking whine, rolling his shoulders in a lazy stretch as if warming up for the coming game session. “I’m not like Inshik, I actually win by being better, not richer - and I’m actually capable of empathy. Lose hard enough and I’ll pity you.” It’s not entirely clear even to himself how much of his energy is purposely intended to disrupt Shinwon’s confidence in an effort to raise his own and ultimately win; the two of them would even strike others as similar in most situations, often possessing a smooth and easy chemistry of loud laughs and comfortable silences. “How about I make an app for you if you win, and if I beat you, you give me a free investigative case of my choosing. Full service and all. I want surveillance, the whole Scooby-Doo shebang.” Today was not one of those easy-going days, despite the ease with which he forged on. “The mystery of Shinwon’s lost honor; found crushed after gaming friday gone wrong.”

The increase in tension caused by each of their competitive streaks isn’t entirely missed, but Junho refuses to comply with it, letting his smile stretch wider as he eyes the man next to him when he crowds closer - comfortable, he does the same while he hums and looks at the screen, selecting the swimming game the other had chosen. Banter aside, there’s a certain childlike joy in spending his time like this, (relatively) peacefully at home and with a friend. Beneath the surface of his sharp jabs, there’s a genuine contentment that he’s sure the other can see; or at least he hopes he can. “Dogs are excellent swimmers.” He supplies unhelpfully, reaching over to pop open his soda can and taking a long swig before settling back on the couch, quickly skipping past the tutorial and going straight for the versus mode.

“Alright, I’m not a puppy anymore Shinwon, and you’re about to find that out.” Taking the smack in stride, Junho initially refrains from hitting the other back, pouting at the other in a picture of self-pity as the screen in front of them flashes, reading; Ready? 3… 2… 1…

nascence

      Perturbation is an insidious foe, purposive breaths its perfidious accomplice, both unifying a prison amidst the idle bench. She’s bound   —  the thought cues a meager giggle, defused into a despondent hum  —  by an inexplicable helplessness:  tradition’s dictation, defied by her own thoughts. It had been her idea to begin with, hadn’t it? “Why … !? I don’t actually want to do this.” Her head tucked lowly, obfuscated by the browns of a multilayered coat, red scarf drawn around her in cheap masquerade. 

      “I don’t … ! I actually do not.” Tiny mutter, arms crossing atop her chest. “I can’t. I have school.” An idea strikes like proverbial lightning. At her feet now, splayed hands beside her and narrating her tirade to the invisible and divisible pieces of her subconscious  —  talking to herself.

     “I still have to complete this semester! I’ll just say that. What can he say? ‘Seok Areum’, you are blacklisted’.” Voice deepened, hilariously, by her own impersonation. “Blacklisted for pursuing my education!?” She’s arguing herself … “I don’t think so! I’ll be more reputable, if anything.” Breathe. “A sophisticated woman. Intelligent and with her own priorities. Smart. Very smart. A sophisticated woman who is intelligent, with her own priorities and very smart. Yes. Plus, if I get hit by a car or something …” A nod spared for her personal validation, though her verdict was immediately decried. 

      “No, no! I can’t do that.” Head shake! Her footing pressing itself with certainty. “I don’t want to do that, either …  I want to do this. Beyond that, I need to do this.” There’s a great applause resounding throughout her mind. The public does not know that. “I have to. How bad can it be? He denies me, I leave. Life goes on. And I don’t care.” Yes! Another nod, lips ensouled by sudden confidence. “I don’t care, I don’t care, I don’t care, I don’t care. I do not care!” 

      Though she’s betrayed again, her heel turning as she chants (to herself, still) and presenting before her the familiar in question. She would’ve thought the situation more salvageable had her arms not swung as she twirled, pivoting through her feigned apathy and colliding with him. “ —  Oh! I’m so sorry!” She thinks him a stranger initially, realizes his identity and dies inside. 

      “Oh!? It’s you. You’re here? I mean, you’re here. Of course. We arranged this spot and I was sitting here,” she sits promptly, “ —  I was sitting here, waiting. And not not caring. Though, if I was, it was because of a phone call that I had gotten. In my pocket.” She draws the device into her hand, wiggling it with her fingers. “My phone in my pocket. Because I hung up. And went back to waiting.” Voice much smaller, smiling timidly with teeth. “Hi.”

@feyjunho

“Seohyun, I’m sure it’ll go great.” There’s just a twinge of exasperation in his voice as it filters over the low tune in his car, the soft rhythms filling the silence between them before he parks, music coming to a stop. The phone is spared a quick glare; unseen, but satisfying, as he picks it up and lifts it to his ear, his sister’s voice coming through playful yet scolding. He assures her - again - that he had not magically regressed in age overnight and that Junho is, in fact, a grown ass man with a job, a car, and at the very least an average in social intelligence. He’ll be fine. The laughter he’s met with in response tugs his lips into a fond smile, the familiar quickly saying his goodbyes before reaching over to the cupholders and finally stepping out into fresh air.

It’s not that he’s completely devoid of anxiety; he doubts anyone would be if they were in his shoes. His mind races a little and doing his best to occupy it, the surroundings are allowed to come to the forefront of his mind, Junho willing the stillness of the park to overpower his own thoughts. The path is covered in snow and the sun’s rays don’t warm the way they used to, but the air lacks that harsh chill that always makes his fingers feel like they’re about to fall off. It’s mild today, a pleasant calm in the air that’s only really disturbed once he lays eyes on the witch he’d come to meet.

Perplexed, Junho watches her spin and pace, her mouth moving with incessant chatter that’s far too fast for him to be able to catch - feeling slightly calmed himself, he assumes it’s nerves, and approaches her with a greeting half-way past his lips when she turns suddenly to run into him.

“Oh, wow-” He’s torn between a laugh and a sharp inhale through his teeth as the coffee burns his fingers, stumbling back a step so as not to spill even more onto either of them. After the initial shock comes the disbelief, Junho’s gaze lifting from his stained jacket to land on the witch as she sits on the bench, mouth still running, now waving her phone around in a futile attempt to deflect. “Wow.” 

it must be a blessing that there isn’t anyone else in the shop. it makes sense, considering the safety warnings with the werewolf packs being at odds with one another, but to what degree, shinwon did not realize yet. but back to the fact that areum’s voice carried through the store, made him chuckle lowly, as he stuffed his hand in his pockets. the explanation that junho gave made sense; he just hadn’t stopped to actually connect the dots. having it explained made more sense. besides, he did all his hefty thinking at work. out here where things were social, shinwon had a tendency to be more relaxed and live in the moment. but still, it intrigues him, the potential bond they may form. he wonders how that will change everyone’s dynamics. “how about that though, i do see you two working it out in the end…” he trails off, wondering if he’d ever find a familiar of his own, though there’s part of him that also thinks about spontaneous cats walking in to his life and they’re suddenly the one. how magical. ha. “besides, you know i listen. sometimes it goes in one ear and out the other, but subconsciously, somewhere, it’s stored up in here for when i need it the most.”

he wags his brows before the two come back into the room. “i see you’re not hiding any secrets from us, or are you? are we doing a book club reading of some sort? we’ve got the time,” shinwon says idly whilst looking at his watch, before looking back to the other three. ​

Junho’s gaze rests idly on the two witches as they leave for the back room, chatter fading away save the odd yell from the younger one, prompting him to raise an eyebrow in question, glancing at Shinwon. “You really think so?” It’s half-serious, though infused with the same lightheartedness as before, the familiar unwilling to fully betray the extent of his ruminations. They were likely both feeling it, then, the potential and the finality of the bond; an odd thing to wrap one’s head around in casual conversation with a friend.

“Well, how’s your sleuthing going?” He transitions smoothly, a quiet snort drawn out of him as more commotion emerges from the back room, though he pays it little mind. “With the werewolf situation, I guess you’ve got your hands full right now, huh? I’m feeling kind of lucky the tech industry isn’t all that affected.” The humor in his voice rings hollow, eyes clouded as his mind wanders in thought, considering, weighing, before finally attempting to let it go, eyes crinkling in another smile as he twists to look towards the back room. “I wish there was a way we could all just... help.”

shinwon knows when he’s not required, for the task that areum called the bookkeeper for. kwangshik, it seems she is familiar with moreso than simply the owner of the shop, and he finds it intriguing that his paths hadn’t crossed proper with a warlock so similar in age. especially when everyone’s ties seemed to entangle in one way or another. guess they hadn’t ever gone on double dates or felt the need to, since he didn’t even realize everyone knew each other. “and here i thought we were here for a social call, but it sounds like she’s on a mission of a sort.” even when she talks in riddles, her words are painfully telling, and shinwon only sighs briefly before elbowing lightly at junho’s side.

“how do you know areum again? man, it just hit me now that you’re both from wongyeong. and here i thought i was supposed to be the whole detail-oriented one,” he grumbles the last bit lowly as he pinches the bridge of his nose, before moving beside his friend. it had been some time since his little temper tantrum at junho’s place, and while time does mend his sore loser-wounds from a night of gaming, he does have the decency to look sheepishly at the familiar. “did you know that they knew eachother too? was i the only one out of this whole equation?”

His eyes flit between the two new arrivals with a curious amusement, the issue of the werewolf threat seeming far away even if only temporarily as the bubble of worry he and Kwangshik had occupied seems to break, expanding to accommodate. The lack of an introduction hardly leaves him bashful, though it makes him laugh. dipping his head both in greeting and acknowledgement towards them all; more at ease with their coalition than anything.

“It’s like you never listen to me anymore, man.” Junho’s teasing is light, his smile kind as he regards the witch newly settled at his side; clearly in a better mood than the last time they’d seen each other. “First off, I’m officially being courted by your girlfriend over there. Wongyeong thing, you know how my family is; hers too, no doubt. We’re pillars of the community.” Wiggling his fingers, emphasizing something or other about their traditions, he gives a quick shrug before continuing. “I guess she’s been to the store before. Kwangshik and I are- you know.” Smile unwavering, he nods once, gaze fixed fondly on the man in question as if in confirmation of what he knows Shinwon intends to ask. “I came to check on him. And to see if there’s anything new we can learn about the wolves in any of his books. But no luck so far, right Kwang?”

✂ ── RAISING THE BAR

jaeyong is celebrating something, he just doesn’t know what. that’s what he’s trying to tell himself, anyway. then again, he doesn’t need an excuse to go out drinking with friends. he probably should be celebrating his escape from the torture his parents inflicted on him, or the fact that the claw marks he earned on his arm during his hunt for an alpha are almost healed, leaving behind scars lighter than most on his body, both literally and otherwise. 

really, he does have a lot to celebrate. he knows. but why does a part of him still feel empty? it’s not really still. this feeling is new, emerging only in the face of his freedom, equal parts heavy and nonsensical, impossible to ignore or make sense of. he should be nothing but happy to live his life independently of them, but he already misses them. he misses his feeling of purpose he somehow lost walking out the door of his childhood home, boxes in his arms. who is he now? does he even have a right to bear the name song? 

so maybe that’s why he’s drinking. 

it’s after his third tequila shot and the slightest buzz that he spots a vaguely familiar figure sitting at the bar. he can’t put a name to his face at first, or even an identity, it’s just a certain knowing, but not knowing enough. who is he, who is he? ah, he’s got it. that’s jaekyung’s ex, isn’t it? they didn’t have time to know each other well, he and jaekyung breaking up before he established any sort of relationship with the rest of the family. for the best, probably. jaeyong knew first hand what it was like to bring someone from the outside into their world, and all he had for it was crushing regret, and his boyfriend’s new silence and distant gaze. 

then again, without huangjun, he likely wouldn’t be able to go to a bar like this– likely would be nursing more scars, physical or otherwise, still in the clutches of his mother and father. maybe it’s not all bad, even if it still feels like it is.

jaeyong doesn’t ever need much encouragement to be a nuisance, but alcohol helps. he saunters over to…what’s his name…junhee? junseo? no, that’s not it. junho? ah, yes. junho. he slides into the empty seat beside him at the bar, his typical lopsided smile on his face. “hey, remember me? good to see you again!” it’s not that good, but it’s a little amusing, and jaeyong is an expert in lying through his teeth. “you broke up with my sister. she was…inconsolable, really. i had to dry so many of her tears,” he plays it up dramatically, sorrowful expression on his face, but this comment is clearly a joke. “i think you owe me compensation, don’t you? buy me a drink and we’ll call it even.” he grins, cheeky.

    ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈  @feyjunho ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Alcohol had managed to occupy multiple roles in his life, a simple comfort in easier times and the near-bane of his existence in other, more chaotic ones. The taste isn’t what ends up bringing back the memories; it never is, his taste always having varied and shifted over time in accordance with both setting and his own mood. Tonight he’s weary, having ventured out into the nightlife for the first time in quite a while - an odd crawl under his skin making him feel out of place as groups pass him by on the streets, their rowdy and drunken cheers summoning memories largely incoherent to who Junho was now. Who he’d needed to become.

The drink of the night is beer; a flexible classic that goes down smoothly and allows him to switch between different kinds as the night drags on, the energy of the after work get-together fluctuating throughout the night, much like Junho’s own involvement. It’s all easy jabs and hushed complaints about their new project, some big time beauty brand wanting an app developed and constantly changing their minds on its design, but he’d found work-related issues less and less compelling over the years. Recently, his lack of engagement had almost been startling to his colleagues, something he’s painfully aware of as the issue of his future bonding rattles around in his head, his ruminations seemingly further fueled by alcohol and the well-meaning questions from those around him.

The night goes on up to the point where it’s only Junho and a few others left, a newfound camaraderie  in their shared lack of any true responsibility; bachelors, free of the heavy weight of family or partnership. He finds himself toasting with them, enjoying himself despite the tame nature of their celebrations, at least in contrast to the far more dangerous revelry of his past.

It is that thought that is interrupted, slowly and then all at once, a sense of unease tensing his shoulders and clawing its way to the center of his chest. The scent is faint, not enough to overwhelm and discreet enough to have been dismissed in his drunken state up until the moment it’s close, definitely too close, voice in his ear, smile on his face.

“Of course, I remember you!” The words are out of his mouth promptly, the guise of intoxication making it easier to hide the force with which he was shaken, grip tightening on his beer bottle. “You’re Jaekyung’s brother. But you grew up a bit, huh?” Jaekyung. She had been beautiful and kind to him, her smile recalled with a certain fondness, though far overpowered by the knowledge of who she was and the danger it posed- or as it would seem, who Jaeyong was.

“Shit, was it really that long ago?” Junho gestures for the bartender with an ease he is grateful for, ordering them both a shot each and fixing the younger man with a smile; a small twitch to his nose being the only indication of the amount of wolfsbane and vervain he could smell on him, pungent and unmistakable. “I hope she didn’t actually cry. She seemed to get where I was coming from! You know how it is, I bet ya- how is she doing now?” The words drawl out of him in a tumble that won’t pass as deliberate, but serves as another blessing in disguise as his mind races, gaze flickering briefly to the exits around the bar.  Escape routes. Though Jaeyong couldn’t possibly know what he was. Could he?

safety in numbers.

@feyshinwon  @feyjunho  @feykwangshik​

“of course,” shinwon says agreeably, eyes gentle as he tries to convey as much reassurance as he can through a hand’s grip. he thinks it would be more confusing if he didn’t join her, truly, no matter the cause. after so many years even from whence they were up to the transition in their relationship, the consensus would be that not so much has changed - minus all the couple-y things. even then, the argument could be made that the two had spent plenty of time together in the most mundane of situations. the shop looks fairly familiar, he must have been here once or twice in the past but not enough to be considered a regular, and he thinks nothing more of it until he spots the people that areum was here to meet.

“hi–” he begins to the two, because her friends are his friends, vice versa, that’s how it works right? ( no, that’s not how it works, shinwon —- ) and when the taller man turns around, shinwon knew - he knew that that man’s frame was familiar because it’s none other than junho. “wait… you two know each other? why am i only hearing about this now?” granted the witching community wasn’t that large, it wasn’t small by any means either and considering the two were linked to the same house, it should have made sense. but shinwon has known both for so long that it feels strange having two ends of his worlds meet. 

The mumble of two voices, low as they approach, initially causes Junho to tense where he stands leaned over a book resting on the counter, interrupting his conversation with the witch rather abruptly. Concerned, narrowed eyes snap to the entrance of the store before the colour and tone of the voices get through to him as deeply familiar, his posture relaxing once the idly chatting couple come into sight. The smile he flashes Kwangshik is almost sheepish, his hand resting fondly on his arm, fingers tapping as if promising to continue their conversation later- before finally turning to fully face the two visitors.

colours

“I found this old grimoire in storage recently that has a lot of information about healing magic.” His speciality didn’t necessarily fall along the mentioned category, but it was better to be knowledgable to some degree in everything. “Maybe it might interest you?” Kwangshik bumps his knee against the other’s before he returns his attention back to the rather complicated healing spell on the page in front of them.

Junho hums briefly in confirmation, relieved to not have startled the witch with his sudden visit even if his presence at the bookshop had become rather commonplace; sometimes, it felt like a routine. Unlike most things that were routine though, making the small detour to Kwangshik’s store after getting off work seemed more like a fun reward than anything. It had been awkward at first, likely owing itself to the unorthodox way they had met and their clumsy attempts to navigate each other afterwards. Determined to properly express his gratitude for their first encounter, Junho had persisted with his visits, and in time, he was greeted with a smile rather than a cautious wave.

It had morphed gradually into the atmosphere they shared now while huddled on the small couch; a comfortable curiosity that left much room for further discovery. “I have a few of those at home, but I’ve never seen this one before.” Shifting his weight on the couch, Junho squints down at the book between them, noting it seemed to lack even a relative counterpart in his own family’s library. “It’s gotta be really old. I don’t even know how you find these...” His traditional background had meant following a rigorous magical study regimen exactly as was customary for familiars of his particular bloodline, and despite never having liked the still, lonely purgatory of his childhood - or at least, that’s how he’d often refer to it - his magical knowledge no doubt came in handy as an adult, and not only in conversation with Kwangshik. Although that definitely helped.

The beat of the music pouring out of his headphones is loud enough to be heard by the few people passing him by on the sidewalk, although Junho is too deep in thought to notice the occasional odd glance. Wearing a lax smile and a heavy coat, scarf a muted cashmere secured snugly around his neck, his mind is occupied, though by nothing in particular. It’s a certain kind of serenity he supposes is peculiar to snowy Mondays such as this one, where he’d be met with a gentle silence if he were to remove his headphones.

He doesn’t; not until his shoes tread carpet in lieu of snowy asphalt and he’s shielded from the biting chill by the door falling closed behind him. However pleasant his trek through the cold had been, reaching his destination offers warmth in its stead, as well as company guaranteed to be far more pleasing. Much like the outside world the bookshop is quiet, the stillness prompting Junho to examine his surroundings, peeking through the spaces between books in an attempt to find who he’s looking for. He finds Kwangshik where he’d come to expect, at the end of a path taking him through a few turns and rows of shelves and into a small, warmly lit reading nook; Junho assumed it was his favorite spot.

but adults can enjoy games too, shinwon - don’t be a brat. and he isn’t, as he hands it over to junho to input into the system. the last thing he wants to do is break something expensive in a home that isn’t his own. even if it’s a good friend, his pockets are a bit thin at this point where he cannot shell out hundreds to replace this. “bet, or no bet?” he doesn’t know why he even offers, because there’s a likely chance he will lose. that’s usually the turnout, yet his tongue betrays him as the expression on his likely does not match his words, averting his eyes from the taller man. 

@feyjunho

There’s a lazy ease to the way Junho steps into the game room, partially owing itself to the many times he had done just so in the past, tired and eager to relax, and partially due to the presence of his friend; a both exciting and comforting premise. He hums as he puts down two cans of soda in front of them, the coffee table a heavy and ornate affair despite being obviously stained and scratched throughout the years - worn and torn by his and his sisters’ many efforts to unwind, but most importantly, win.

“I haven’t played it, nah. But if it’s for kids it should be perfect for us.” Junho snatches the case out of the other’s hand with an amused smile, turning it over to glance at the colourful graphics and exaggerated reviews as he trots over to the console. “We’ve bowled and played pool and stuff, right?” The question is more akin to the familiar thinking aloud than expecting an answer, emitting a low hum as he makes quick, mindless work of the console and grabbing the controllers - betraying the fact that he may have spent a bit too much time in the room.

Swiveling around with a grin stretching his lips, Junho doesn’t bother to give a warning before tossing one of the controllers in his friend’s general vicinity, turning around again to grab his own without checking to see if the other would catch it or not. Sliding his socked feet backwards in a moonwalk on the polished wood in another absentminded habit, he focuses his attention on the screen in front of him, attempting to navigate through the settings and set-ups.

“Sure, let’s bet our asses off. Neither of us have played this, so…” At first sounding noncommittal about the whole thing, Junho suddenly perks up and turns around to squint at his friend, sliding closer across the floor. “Wait, do you wanna bet something else than cash? We could bet something more fun than that.” He plops down on the couch beside the other with little grace, melting into it with a grunt and kicking his legs up onto the coffee table; moving the soda cans with a push of his calf. Giving his friend a teasing shove with his elbow, clearly excited, he flashes a grin and starts flipping through the possible game modes at a rapid speed.

“yeah… yeah, i was just gonna head back to the city.” the witch practically turned heel before marching away in an instant fully expecting to be followed. he shoves his hands into the front pocket of the sweater keeping the night wind from chilling him to the bone, rubbing his own knuckles in a soothing-motion. the faster he was able to go back to the safe confines of his home, the better.

“Oh, thank god.” Junho exhaled a quick sigh, the corners of his mouth tipping upward in a smile that went unnoticed as the witch turned away. It left him reeling in surprise for at least a second or two before he caught on and caught up; a few quick strides closing the distance between them once more. Remaining a few paces behind the other gave him some time to glance around the clearing one last time, scanning it for some possibly neglected piece of his attire before finally leaving it behind.

It felt strange to settle into a walk beside the other man, prompting the rise of an internal conflict between feeling like an inconvenience and feeling entitled to the help somehow. Being harmless rather than a dangerous werewolf did not mean he was owed anything, he knew, and his status as a familiar wouldn’t afford him much with just any witch either. Yet the ache in his muscles signaled an undercurrent of vulnerability, too; forcing him to acknowledge that if something meaner than Kwangshik had appeared, there would be no guarantee he would make it through the encounter.

“So,” He broke the silence suddenly, eager to drown out the sinking feeling of dread that seemed to have anchored itself in his stomach. “You said you’re a regular in these woods, right?” Looking around didn’t immediately reveal any valuable ingredients nearby, despite his trained eye, though a deep inhale (and the help of his familiar senses) did tip him off to the dull scent of them. Nearby, but not too close. 

“Do you just - collect ingredients and stuff then? Some herbs maybe? Making some moonwater under the waning crescent?” After another sheepish laugh, Junho threw the witch a quick look; apologetic, as he willed himself to slow down the pace of his many questions. The sore ache of his muscles reminded him that rather than motivated by an abundance of energy, it was a matter of wanting a distraction, a metaphorical bone thrown at him to gnaw at - and Junho did, in fact, see the irony in that.

“Look, I really don’t want to be an inconvenience. I’m a nice person, I just- got lost after going into the woods. I had to clear my mind.” The pace at which he spoke was still hurried, but he had managed to keep the quickness of his previous questions at bay. Adjusting the fit of his sweater around his wrists, he had another realization, setting the other with an inquisitive look as he sped up his pace a bit more to match.

      “Not to insinuate that it isn’t a priority to you, obviously.” An apology arises in the curt bow she submits as makeshift atonement. “I just thought that ..  you’d have found a good candidate already, no?”

It’s difficult to refrain from succumbing to curiosity, and if he’s to be honest with himself, perhaps he’s not trying particularly hard. If not for curiosity keeping him alert, he’s certain there would be too much missed, lost in the details of their ornate environment and in the taste of the tea on his tongue. Small things would go unnoticed, like the inquisitive glance spared for his sister and thus the train of thought that surely followed; as well as bigger things, like the way the witch’s gaze would return to her grimoire.

“No, it’s not my first time.” Junho’s voice does not quite waver, though something finds its way into and around his throat. Surprise rocks into him gently at first, as if softened by the care with which she attempts to navigate the subject. The question of ‘why’ hardly stings, rather directing his attention to the form of his eldest sibling, perched stoic at his side. An air of indifference surrounds her, a show of poise seemed to have passed from their matriarch to the eldest daughter in a way that Junho knew was both familial, and traditional.

“You’re not alone in thinking that I should’ve found someone already.” He supplies after a few moments of introspection, his energy careful in its playfulness, as if stifled. Gaze still resting on his sister - a woman that despite her mild irritation still meets his eyes, inquisitive and fond, and Junho’s face lifts into a small smile. “It’s rare for a familiar of my bloodline to be unbound for so long, but I guess I-,” A quick pause, words stilling in his mouth, unspoken, before he continues. “Though I have several reasons, it just hasn’t been my top priority.”

Although his situation would be obvious to anyone who’d ask him his age or know of his family there was an undeniably satisfying release in speaking of it himself, especially in an environment like this. “Perhaps I’m just picky. As I’ve gotten older, the idealized view I had on all of this really -- changed.” Dulling the edges of his words before they roll off his tongue serve him well, his frustration best contained and neglected for now, in the presence of those who would surely disagree. Junho’s teeth sink into his bottom lip, attentive as he scrutinizes the witch.

“Not saying it isn’t important to me. If anything, it’s become even more so.” Whatever it was that had been constricting his throat seems to tighten its grip on him again, and it softens his expression, opening up his face into another smile; small, this time. “I’ve prepared for a long time, and I’ve learned more this way. I think I’m more ready for what it really means - so it wouldn’t make sense for me to choose just anyone.”

The carefully prepared tea catches his attention once more, the reminder seeming to beckon a revisit as he shifts in his seat. “I hope that answers your question.” The cup serves a disguise for the amusement stretching his lips at the reminder of the absurdity of their situation; the burned fingers, the stiffness of it all, the earnest, yet strange attempts at examining and correlating. Lest anyone think him crazy or somehow ill-natured, the cup remains at Junho’s mouth as he speaks again; voice clear even as he searches the face of the witch opposite him, attempting to meet her gaze, as if in question.