#commedezgarconz

the_woow00 made a new private post! tagged @ i.won @commedezgarconz

happy?

so this right about proves it. he isn't just seeing things. imogen ( one hit wonder from earlier in the year—unfortunately, he does have a good memory ) is most definitely hiding from him. that is, if fleeing behind a lamp post only half her size can be considered hiding.

he gets it. when things get dull, it's human nature to look for that silver lining, that spark bred out of spontaneity and recklessness. adrenaline is a hell of a drug; he just so happened to be her dealer that night. and there's nothing wrong with that. so what if she was still with someone else? it happens. it's a mistake. there really isn't any need for her to hide from him. he doesn't kiss and tell.

( that's a lie, but imogen doesn't need to know that. )

lucas, the mischievous little shit that he is, decides to entertain her attempts at becoming one with the lamp post. he walks on, chatting with the rowdy crowd as he does—only to discreetly split off a few seconds later and loop back around. he's quiet in his approach. quieter as he leans in close to peer over imogen's shoulder.

yerim looks up from her notebook for what's probably the twentieth time in half as many minutes. her eyes immediately lock on to the redhead across the garage, half-buried under the hood of her car. imogen's hair is pulled back, sleeves pulled up, giving yerim free reigns to admire the tattoos splattered across her arms, how her muscles shift as she keeps working, her neck—

she's distracted. imogen is distracting. yerim has been aware of this for a while now, and yet, she allows herself the indulgence of accepting every single color-coded calendar invite sent her way. by now, she's memorized the way the older moves as she works. her eyes remain on imogen for a beat longer, then she blinks, as if an attempt to break the spell she feels like she's under. 

her gaze drops back down to the page. “…a competitive advantage lies not only in resource acquisition, but in…” the rest of the words seem to blur together — again. yerim has been trying to read this same sentence for at least the past five minutes, with no luck whatsoever. 

she lets out a soft sigh, just loud enough to be audible, and her eyes drift back to imogen. this time, her gaze lingers for longer, studying every movement of the woman who seems to be lost in her work. at least someone is able to focus. 

carefully, she closes her notebook, placing her pen neatly on top as she puts it down beside her. she can't keep pretending to study anymore. while usually one to always remain diligent, yerim figures that for tonight, at least, there's no point in torturing herself further. 

as if to announce her own presence, in case imogen had forgotten while lost in her tinkering, yerim softly clears her throat. she doesn't wait for any response from imogen before she speaks.