#freakyoochun

Chanyeol grinned at the man's comment. He liked it when Yoochun smiled too. 

Chanyeol had only met Yoochun a little while ago, but damn did he ever teach Chanyeol a thing or two that he hadn't known prior to meeting him. 

"I like it when you smile too." He said with a big smile on his face, just for the man. Chanyeol loved smiling, in fact, he was rarely seen without a smile. Perhaps that was why so many people were drawn to him, and why he was able to talk so freely with others. 

Jimin looked to Yoochun quzically as Yoochun spoke the ominous words a slight chill running up his back as they settled in him like sand on the ocean floor.

"Dont get on the plane" Jimin replied.

Yoochun lowered his eyes, focusing them on Jimin in confusion.

"Im sorry" Jimin said with a smirk "I couldnt help it. It was the only thing I could think of you know? Offer an equally creepy and ominous reply in turn".

Yoochun did only continued to look as Jimin slowly calmed his chuckles like a school boy in church caught playing during the service. He puffed out his cheeks ever so slightly and looked to the sky, the clouds clear and bright as ever.

"What?" The reply came dryly as Chen turned around to see his interlocutor, not recognizing his voice at all. He didn’t like strangers much, and getting complimented by such a person brought back memories he didn’t quite appreciate. To many it would have been flattering, or even the possibility of a new relationship between two people, but the siren wasn’t one of them.

He frowned lightly, feeling a usual fight-or-flight reaction curling and churning in his stomach. There was a tense energy in the air, as if whatever particles of air that stood between had decided to vibrate and shock everything in a few feet radius, something Chen couldn’t quite explain. Unsure as to what to do, he took a step back. “Thanks, but… Like…”

"Seriously? You broke another one? What the fuck, Yoochun!” Dara shook her head and rolled her eyes. The sign for Yoochun’s performance seemed to constantly get broken and she somehow was always in charge of replacing it. Maybe it was because Junsu’s handwriting looked like a five year old had written it and hers was immaculate. Either way, she was getting sick of it. “Did a kid steal it this time or something?” She asked as she walked over to grab some wood and paints.