#int.

and she does ─ god too quickly . stands behind his desk with a lovely grin . ‘ .. am i gonna be in the photos ? ‘

(No flag IDs)

Integer/Int. honorific

[PT: Integer/Int. honorific /end PT]

A flag for those who use Integer/Int. as an honorific.

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"And she was like, we literally didn't order the extra breadsticks, just take them off the bill, and I was like, you literally did, and I remember because you were still chewing a fat bite of spaghetti and I wanted to tell you to swallow before talking to me but you know that's like, not good service or whatever, and she just like, kept," Merritt claps her hands together, "arguing" clap "with me" clap clap. She sighs and leans back in the booth, a plate of half-eaten salad in front of her. "And what's so annoying is like, I had to be all nice to her even though she was calling me sweetie like I'm a brainless moron just because I deliver pasta right to her freaking gullet, you know?"

In reality the conversation had been a lot less biting ( though that customer truly had been belittling ) but who is Merritt to tell a story without a little flair?

"Shouldn't you be, I don't know, doing your fucking job right now?"

It started with a faint mewling: a sound underscoring the raw footage he was scrolling through that Easy was certain he was imagining. The sound continued after he hit mute, though, and got stronger when he stepped out into the living room. Nothing behind the couch, nothing behind the armchair, nothing inside at all, so Easy cracked the window to the fire escape and his eyebrows rocketed to his hairline.

This is how Easy finds himself standing in Vic's door frame, a small, dark taupe-furred kitten in his arms and a sense of pleading in his expression.

"I don't know how he got up here but we have to keep him," Easy says. The kitten squirms in his arms to find a more comfortable way to rest before closing its eyes. "Hold him and tell me you disagree."

he's become aggressively astute at feeling when someone has noticed him. if he were feeling more self-aggrandizing, he might think it's the development of some sixth sense, but really it's just paranoia. when someone stares for too long, he usually knows what that means, except — there's a curve, there, to her eyes, that he has a hard time placing as something hostile.

he lets her husband pour him a drink . looking awfully out of place in this fancy office ; donned in his ugly sweatpants and a loose jacket , his attire looks like he's the kid roaming around the palace that her husband owns . he's supposed to represent his country , unfortunately choi mujin would present a better image than do gangjae . but what matters is that his fame has crawled past the borders , and reached here — the heat is irritating him , he groans softly after downing his drink . ‘ aren't you hot ? huh ? ‘ his gaze settles on patricia again . the business meeting was over and gangjae was generously invited to have dinner with the man and his pretty wife — the wife who was getting railed thoroughly by the tattooed man sitting across her , last night , he wonders if she can still feel it . he grins , and glances at her husband , who was busy cutting the steak . ‘ so .. how did you guys meet ? ‘ he asks , his accent slipping into his question . they speak english , but gangjae has been slowly and silently learning some spanish in his free time too .