#(.rep)

He spend half of the day sitting in front of the PC, playing the game after he invited her to come over as they were both given some time off from their schedules. He planned just to play the game for a few hours but obviously got lost in time, hands still holding onto the controller while his eyes focusing on the game, biting the corner of his lip. His appearance was straight up a mess as he went straight to the computer as soon as he woke up in the morning, not caring about having the female idol in the same room. 

Taehyung takes a few seconds glance up at the younger when she threatened him to switch off the machine, moving his gaze back on the screen as he continues to play the game before muttering out. “ Do it, I’ll kick your butt. I’m serious.” He playfully glares up at her after pausing the game, reaching out to poke her cheek lightly. “ My stomach is empty, cook for me, pleassee? pretty pleassee?” he grins, hoping she would cook for him as he tries to get her far away from his computer, not wanting her to turn it off as he is finishing up a mission, making a heart shape using his limbs over his head. “ love you.”

Taehyung squeezed his ways between the large number of people on the corridor, trying to make his way back to where his member are, apart of him cursing at himself as he knows damn too well on how the broadcast would ask most of the idols to wait at the backstage for their turn to perform for the live show causing the area to be flooded with people yet he still went to the gents. Muttering excuses to the people he squeezed himself between but stopped once he saw the glare she shot at him, making him to feel guilty; bowing his head down slightly but still trying to make his way to his members. 

       Joonmyeon was used to being insulted. It was common, for some reason, among most of the humans he interacted with lately; nearly all of whom were considerably younger than him. But he was tired of playing the Dad. Most of her argument wove through one ear and out the other, his lips pushing into an improvised smile, mostly directed toward the other people who stared at him as if he’d struck her. When he realized she wasn’t going to stop, he grabbed her wrist - softly enough, and tugged until they stood in the emptiness of the hallway. Joonmyeon had to sigh in relief. Then he tried to calm her again.

       His expression went rigid at her accusation. It shouldn’t have bothered him; she had a very good reason for tossing those words. Yet he felt as though the flowers in his hands weren’t even worth the time he’d spent arranging them. He filtered his breath in silence, glancing down at the assorted bunch, then back up to her with a small smile, pressing the plastic wrapped stems against her chest and closing her arms around them.

       “These aren’t a bribe. Jasmine is supposed to bring grace and eloquence to artists-- and seeing how you act outside of work, you’ll need it.” He sighed and brought a hand up to ruffle her hair.

The Proposal.

      “I’m serious, just stick your hand in this.” Krystal’s unamused expression had Joonmyeon prying with enough patience to label him a saint. She wasn’t budging. He frowned and looked her over, tucking the ancient, iron box under his arm for a moment to bring her chin close with his free hand. She almost pushed at his wrist, but gave up with a huff instead, the cold air biting her thin cheeks and chilling the long strands of hair draped over her coat.

      He couldn’t have counted the amount of dates they’d been on before today, but despite their endless banter, he knew he loved her. Often he told her, but rarely did she voice the returned feelings; she was always embarrassed, claiming that he was too sappy for his own good. It was true.

      “Krystal, please stick your hand in this.” Her eyes were still stubborn. He leaned forward to kiss her, but she rolled her lips together. He grinned and kissed the tip of her nose instead, presenting the box once more. After much deliberation, her sour expression faded, one hand reaching in and face turning away - as if too afraid to see what was in the horribly old-looking box.

      “What is this?” She muttered, finally offering her attention and looking at the little round piece.

      “That ring is older than the Renaissance. I never had the chance to use it.”

      That childish look of confusion and surprise turned to Joonmyeon for help. He had already dropped the iron shell and taken the ring from her, sliding it onto the second-tallest bony digit of her hand. Before she could blink he’d lowered to one knee.

The Wedding.

      “Darling, you look-” A dainty hand had moved to cover his mouth with an audible clap. His round eyes blinked, then wrinkled with an obvious smile, though his bride-to-be was fuming with anxiety and everything dislocated from a playful attitude.

      “I can’t walk out there, I can’t, it’s weird. So many people! Your son, my parents- they still think your son is your brother.” She was fluttering with doubt and pacing in small circles, confined by a long, beaded white dress. Joonmyeon was still smiling when his hands moved to gently tuck a lost thread of hair back into place, fingertips tracing the rounded shape of her cheeks and landing at her jaw, bringing her forehead to rest against his. She tensed at first, then lightened, her mouth buzzing with a faded whimper as she moved both hands to curl at his wrists, her long eyelashes lowering to meet her cheeks.

      “Darling, you’re marrying a demon and yet you’re afraid of tripping down the aisle.” That brought a pent up laugh from her chest, glassy eyes flickering open and lips finally pulled into that beautiful smile.

      “That’s my girl.” He murmured, pressing his thumbs gently into the groove of her cheeks.

      “Now, ah…where is the bathroom-?” Something hard hit his chest.