ββ/ Β π’π§ ππ‘π π«π’π©ππ’ππ
His every sense is tied up in the commotion surrounding them, like a bludgeon right to his faculties leaving him a little unfocused. This is one (of many) reasons that he doesnβt often frequent places of this nature. Loud, packed full of bodies in motion, music that punches harder than the kick of the drinks they serve. But at least this routine is seldom, only usually, once or twice a year. Always the same time. When his gaze snags over her heβs gulping down a burning drink. His pupils dilate like a spotlight with attention. Not because sheβs special for the night, anything out of the ordinary among the throng of people, but in something more interesting. In raw recognition, courted by a burst of appreciation. Because perhaps for once, what would normally be a negative can convert to positive. He recalls her keenness when they first met. Exactly what he was looking for then- easily falling into line beside his line of thought. Crashing into bed with her hadnβt been out of the ordinary either. No curling of his soul inside of his human shell, a question that he might walk away a changed man. But, point still stands, he remembers. And the next morning had been pleasant in itβs entire fucking absence. Exchange of words brief and refreshingly cool. Just his style.Β So for a second he considers turning around and leaving well enough alone, letting that past that they both let go of so easily, open palmed, rest. But then, in the same instance, he still moves towards @vcminkyung.Β Crossing to where she lingered among music and bar sounds, leaning in close to get her attention, hoping she recalls as he does (it had been how long? Years?) so that he doesnβt overstep boundaries.Β βI thought we agreed never to see each other again,β any other time, those words might sound bitter, a curse or insult, but he says it with such an odd sense of humor and repartee that it doesnβt quite sound as it should.
