within the universe.
❦ jihoon ❦
It’s five past three. His hands are hot, and his mind effervescent, brimming with the phantasms of beauty and decay. The greenhouse represented, to him, comfort and imagination with a hint of bitterness; it was overflowing with life, controlled by caring, soft, human hands. Excited, he approached it with a slight bounce in his steps and a song hummed in his throat, and to open the door with his hands occupied by two cups of coffee he conjured a little magic, taking advantage of the little tricks he learned during his short time at the academy.
“Jihoon! I’m late, sorry about that.” Taeyong called into the glass building, announcing his arrival with a half-baked apology. Inside were hundreds of flora species, many unidentifiable to him, and the tables were arranged into neat rows, on top of which were pots of soil and the great spectrum of plants that grew from them. Their names may escape him, but visiting semi-regularly began a trend of flowery dreams. Vines helixed out from the recesses of his mind and sprouting from them were large, luxurious blossoms filled with rich, dark colors. He saw them now before his eyes, opaque and palpable and surrounding a boy with thick, blonde hair – Jihoon, who reminded him of a cloud.A cloud who selflessly gave to the plants, and on many days, seemed to become tinted gray.
He approached him with a smile and placed one of the tall disposable cubs near him, on the table. “I got you coffee, made just how you like it.” The explanation comes with a grin and he continues walking to the other side where he unpack his own supplies, though what came from his backpack was far different from gardening tools. As per usual, Taeyong recovered a sketchbook and a case of art supplies from the overstuffed depths of his bag and then sat across from Jihoon, immediately transitioning to finding a blank page and opening the cartoon-printed case (it’d be a crime to resist the tiny Pikachus on it). “So,” He spoke again, returning his attention to the boy he began to dare think of as a friend, and pointed the tip of a pencil at him. “How are you and the plant-babies?”
