#hwazza

The fatigued idol spent the day lounging around in her dorm, the AC broken and summer heat blaring through the window. With her promotions ending, Hwasa had a couple of hours to spare until her next comeback. Obtaining an abrupt call from her unnie, the female jolted upright, grabbing her phone, and answering within the first beep.

“Unnie–” Hwasa paused, “If we’re going to go out, can we go for some ice cream? The pool, maybe? It’s so hoooot.”

The girl diverted her attention back to the red device in her hand, unlocking the screen and searching for the nearest ice cream parlor. “There’s one close by! Should we go right now?”

The dance studio was cooled only as much as needed. Considering the dancer was in motion vigorously for some time she didn’t quite feel the relaxing cool that attempted to fill the room and comfort her. Instead she felt the heat her body created in her space as she moved in precise turns and in time to the beat of the music that currently played through the speakers. It had a urban feel and in reflection so was her routine. Unsure if the dance would find any other use but that of her own investment.

When the song ended Natasha was well spent. The burn in her limbs fueled the burn in her stomach reminding her how much of an appetite she can work up when dancing. Something to eat and something to relax her body was her self prescribed antidote for the day. After a quick pat to dry herself off down and some water she picked up her phone and dialed up the idol. 

“It doesn’t hurt..” She lied. It hurt a lot. But what could she do? Hwasa wasn’t the type to display weakness. 

Jacob’s heart was pounding, his eyes wide as he looked up from her bloodied knee to scan over her face. He had been walking home when he saw the car zoom onto the street, right toward the silhouette of a young woman. He hadn’t spared a moment to think, simply bolting into the road and grabbing onto the petite body to push her out of harm’s way. But the impact had left her injured still and with an overwhelming sense of guilt he had gingerly pressed his fingers over her wound. He couldn’t imagine that the scrape wasn’t painful, but he could see the guarded look in her eyes and after a slow exhale to calm his racing heart he offered her a small smile and ignored her blatant lie, “Really? Ah, you’re tough.” 

His gaze flickered to her knee again as another car passed them at a much safer speed, “Feel free to say no, but I have a first aid kit at my apartment and it’s just down the street. Would you mind if I take you back there and get your knee taken care of?” 

hook me up if you ever want to talk, plot, vent, if you’re bored, anything. i’m always here ( i mean, when mun isn’t busy ) !