at the charm dorms during hit comeback preparations, with @fmdminsun
joohyung stumbled into the dorm noisily, fumbling his keys in the lock as he tried to get himself inside. it was so late that most would consider it morning, to the point that the sun was already colouring the horizon with the sunrise, but the dancer couldn’t be bothered to care much— he was already noisy in general, but running on such low energy levels, he was even less concerned with his noise levels than usual. he’d been burning the late night oil in the dance studio well after practice was set to end today, desperate to make sure his performance was perfect; and now, at the time when some of the more prepared charm members were getting up to start getting ready for their early morning schedules, joohyung was just returning home.
one such member was minsun, the other member already puttering about in the kitchen as they usually would. the vocalist was one of the members who frequently took care of the others, not in a leadership role like hanbyul, but rather in a caretaking way, always making sure that they had rested and eaten. joohyung appreciated his friend’s concern most days— but on a day like today, where joohyung was just looking to pound back a coffee or two and be on his way, he wasn’t exactly looking forward to talking to minsun.
he shuffled his way into the kitchen, heading straight towards the coffee maker. maybe if he kept his head down, minsun wouldn’t notice how tired he was. he grabbed a mug to pour himself a cup, the pot fresh and hot and surely compliments of minsun, but his contacts were dry and his vision went blurry just as he tipped the pot over to pour. the liquid splashed over his hand and joohyung recoiled immediately, hurriedly letting go of the mug and shoving the pot back under the coffee maker.
“fuck,” he cursed, uncharacteristic for him, grabbing the wrist of his injured hand as he stepped away from the counter. his vision was still blurry, but joohyung could tell that the skin on his hand was already turning red. he tried to rub his eye with the back of his good hand, but it didn’t help, his vision still bleary. “fuck, that hurts.”
