#crankbound

Despite all his big words and confidence, and all the smooth comments he made -- Minho was not well versed in romance. Who had time to date or love when they were all trying to get everyone out alive? ( Thomas, apparently. ) It wasn’t like he didn’t want a girlfriend or whatever -- it was just that when you were sorta in a life threatening situation, you sorta... uh, tended to focus on the life threatening situation first. 

So- Handholding? Dating? Someone teach him how to use Google, Maybe he can at least read up on shitty Yahoo Answers.

But, of course, Minho was not a schoolgirl with a crush ( oh, Harriet would have put a knife to his throat for that comment ), and there was absolutely no need to get nervous over this -- it was with Newt, and maybe with Newt, things would feel a bit more like home than awkward acting, anyway. This was the person he joked about having griever makeouts with; Pretending to date? Should be no problem. 

Confidence is both his vice and blessing; he lets a lazy smirk drift across his face, even as he pauses at the entrance of the festival street, looking around at the lights and the colorful clothes. His gaze lands on Newt automatically after he surveys their surroundings --  holding out a hand, palm up, as if asking for a ballroom dance. His other hand rests in his pocket.

“So, slinthead--” he starts, drawling, trademark sarcasm obvious-- 

        ❝  There’s no end to this city , isn’t there ?  ❞        He asks out of the blue as he looks at the horizon where water rests in a canal , reminds him of Venice. Harry knows he knows Venice but he hasn’t really heard of this place before ; he doesn’t know why he’d go here. Sure he speaks Japanese but , it has been a long time ago ----- he isn’t sure if his Japanese is even acceptable at this point. Even so , it should be handy but based from the looks of the other present within his vicinity , he looks like he can understand English.

        ❝  Everything seems to be so . . . perfect here. The stock market isn’t even plummeting or something for the past few days ; business is good. What do you think ?  ❞ 

Honestly, he wakes up too early. It usually makes for some time alone, watching the dawn break and maybe going out for a jog ( even though after coming here, he, for some reason, seems to prefer staying in in the mornings, never straying far from the room itself if he went to explore. ) 

Today, however? 

He’s just radiating smugness. god, minho. what have you done.

( if you need an answer, there’s an empty boxful of rubber ducks that have been relocated into the bathtub; overflowing it, and a bunch hidden around the apartment-- cellophane wrap stretched across the doorway to the bedrooms of his sleeping friends, the perfect height for walking into half asleep. all their watches and clocks, also, have been turned to different times. Maybe the bathroom light is even tinged blue. )