#acajiyeon

the sound of graphite scratching on paper is drowned out by the sound of jiyeon’s voice, and suji promises she’s listening. there’s a half-eaten tub on ice cream and two dirty spoons on her bedroom floor, a pending sticky mess that suji can’t be bothered worrying about just yet, not when she’s so close to perfecting this goddamn nose. 

her bedroom walls are littered with old sketches, photos and posters, but there’s one spot, just above her headboard, that she’s particularly proud and fond of. it’s polaroid after polaroid of her, and jiyeon, and their friends, scattered amongst weird postcards that take her a minute to interpret sometimes when she gets them, but she loves them all the same. there are ticket stubs for movies she’d never even heard of before jiyeon had dragged her off to some screening; most of them were subtitled, and suji almost lost track trying to read everything, but she walked out of the theatre feeling giddy and lightheaded in the best way, because she was walking out with her arm linked with jiyeon’s, listening to her best friend almost wax poetic about the bangin’ cinematography. 

(”suji, i’m telling you. it doesn’t get any better than that.” 

“i know. i believe you, unnie.”)

jiyeon’s sitting by her bedroom window; it’s wide open because there’s a lit cigarette held between two slender fingers and the scent hits suji’s nose every now and again when a spring breeze passes through. there’s a camera set up on the other end of the room directed right at her, but she’s not quite sure if it’s on and recording, or if jiyeon is waiting for something spectacular to happen in this drab routine of suji’s, which consists mainly of calling her best friend to come over and do nothing but sit in her room to sketch, film and talk. 

today is no exception, and the both of them have fallen into position automatically, one manning the window, the other manning the bed. suji cuts jiyeon off mid-sentence. 

“unnie, stay still. i’ve almost got this.”