Jan 24, 2018
woojin doesn’t have to ask him from what corner of his misfortune he managed to stumble into this tiny, old, rough thing, to know. what’s her deal? he wonders when, more hesitant than frustrated, he swipes his tongue along his lips and plays. he plays bits of the first song he learnt, then some of one she taught him long ago.
the plucking softens when kiel comes back, but it doesn’t die. “jeez...”
his voice drowns it, anyway.
“haven’t you thrown it away?” a stop, sharp, unwilling. the wooden plectrum is hold high now, hand for a pedestal. but trash doesn’t deserve to be hold that high, so he lowers it a little. “it’s hardly even a plectrum now.”
@603k
