#kngyz

     Sports drink nearly spat out, she could only cough up, putting her bottle down, hiding behind her hand, shoulders still shaking, as she raised her head, looking at the younger, running around the skate park, empty at this time, most people at work, in school, it was easy for her to race around,jumping over obstacles, tumbling around, she couldn’t even understand where there was time to talk, inbetween the training, while she herself, sitting on one of the obstacles, food spread out, eaten while watching, better than any live TV. “I’m definitely not,” she answered, eyes darting to keep up, to follow the younger, keeping track of her movements, drinking some more,soothing her slightly upset throat. “It’s impossible.” Neither something she’d explain, the very reason for her sentence, the cause it was impossible, the very obvious matter, that there was no one, no one who could have caused such state, no one she had been intimate with.

     “Isn’t that but a very nonsensical question? Why would you ask?”Obviously, she wouldn’t know, hadn’t researched those cliche reasons, one possible evident in her eating, the snacks with contrasting flavors, regarding this morning as cheat hours, combined with homemade food, some even prepared for the other, neatly put aside, to be enjoyed later. Neither had she gained weight, that for sure, recently having started running again, morning exercise for her stamina, aiding her already existing one, the kind trained by excessive practice, now supported further, for the best of her muscles.

it wasn’t meant to be offensive. it wasn’t yeonha’s way of blatantly telling the elder she’s getting fat, or her hormones are running wild, going crazy, and she needs to chill out. none of those would make sense. if she went by the size logic, then, if anyone here is pregnant - it should be her. they’ve got similar frames, would peg the pair to be in the same weight class, but she deems herself as the one with a little more meat on her bones. it’s a little stereotypical but you can’t tell her it isn’t true that knocked up women seem to be ten times more sensitive, crying over the sound of a pin dropping. but she hasn’t come into contact with very many mothers while they were still carrying their child in their stomach. it’s only until after the kids are out and grown that she meets them, usually at her scout meet-ups. only 6 to 8 years old, even with the proper qualification, some parents still give her the side eye and insist to overlook everything that goes on. she can’t blame them. if it was her with the child, she’d probably be a little overprotective too. 

          [    ⤷  JJ-ssi    ]      ✉       Why does this feel like Maths but less funny…      ✉       I had to google this.      ✉       But I still don’t really get it…      ✉       Can’t you message me at a normal time?

The thing about addicts, they wanted stuff they couldn't afford and the kid in question was definitely an addict, and he’d owed Geunseong’s boss a lot of money for the drugs they’d supplied him and expected money by his deadline which was last week. There was no payment, meaning Geunseong-- the male’s dealer-- had to deal with his customer, due to his bosses request. 

He’d stalked the male for about two hours before finally moving in on him in an abandoned area of a university. Grabbing him from behind before delving a punch to his face, flinging his body against a trash can, he was about to continue his beating when someone took his fist, attempting to stop him from attacking the male. The woman’s halting of his beating had caused the male to get away, he turns, pulling his wrist back before grabbing her by her collar. “You ain’t know what that scum did, how much shit he owes,” he speaks as he gets all up in her face.

      ❅        “Enjoy what?” Words quiet, she was staring, not moving since seconds now,looking at the sign, amusement park, something she had never really visited, hating vehicles without her control, feeling nervous with such matters, now dragged along, dragged along for that very reason, glancing at the younger with big eyes, giving her feelings away for once,her own nervosity. The younger was more cheerful, seemed to have more fun, the prospect of taking all the different rides, getting an adrenaline rush, high on joy, entirely contrary to Yuzi, feet frozen in place, only staring, stomach twisting with nervosity. There were things she was good with, athletism, shooting, dancing, definitely not rollercoasters, even if they were inside, seeming more bearable hidden from the weather, yet making her restless.        But she had no choice, was weak to Chanmi’s expression, the bright joy, already giving up internally, just hoping it wouldn’t end in a bad way, silently praying to no one, keeping her own mind busy, proceeding to the entrance, paying their tickets. Unbelievably expensive,nothing she usually wasted money on, feeling obliged to, merely for being the older, for wanting to be nice, to treat the cheerful girl.

It wasn't often for Chanmi to go off and enjoy the delights of Lottie world, but today she was blessed with a rare no schedule day between her promotions and she wanted to use it to unwind and riding rollercoasters, screaming the stress away sounded perfect to Chanmi.  However all of her other unnies seemed to have variety show appearances, it was only Chanmi; of course their managers attending the variety shows with her unnies as to not get into any trouble. She was all alone until she convinced the older female to come with her. “Enjoy the rides, the smells, the food! Amusement parks have a lot of things to enjoy AND Lottie world is both indoors and outdoors!” She exclaims, opening her arms out wide to exaggerate the park’s greatness.

      ❅           Only thing moving were her eyes, feeling cornered with his arms around her,warm form pressed against her own, heating her back and legs, hers somehow entangled with his, yet unable to realize the sitation entirely. His answer didn’t help, muttered seemingly sleepily, answering her question to his reason, the reason to lie into her bed. It had been an internal struggle to let him sleep over, not used to having someone male stay over, not anyone but her childhood friend, going against the rules her father had so strictly burned into her. Yet she had done it, allowed him to sleep on the futon replacing her couch, in one corner of her living room, covered with pillows and blankets, bought years ago as it occupied less space in the room turned into a dancing gym.        No way she had expected him to move, sneaking into her room, using her like a human-shaped stuffed toy, cuddling her as if it were most natural. She was used to his touchings,after years of dancing together, but this was new, a different level of intimacy, sharing a bed,something she had never done with anyone but the two boys she had grown up with, one of them being her own broter. Thus it took her a while, not daring to move, feeling weird in this position, unsure about what to do now. It was against her habits, letting a man stay over,sharing her bed, having no space inbetween them in this private place of hers. “You…” Her voice broke, not sure about how to approach this, how to handle this, staying silent for one more moment. “It can’t be cold… There’ floor heating”, she mumbled, gazing into the dark,trying to make out a shape, trying to get a hunch why exactly he had crept into her bed. “I…Sharing a bed…”        It was partly because of being tired, not being able to form a proper phrasing, stuttering around, thinking even it might only be a dream. This was new to her, no one ever had told her people might sneak into her bed, none of the people she knew having lived just some minutes away, not close enough to any of her friends to have experienced this yet, thus also not sure whether it was actually normal or not.

Generally, Zacharie had two modes when ever he was drunk; eruptively violent or, and this was less common, soft and needy - very much like a puppy. Unfortunately for both him and his manly pride, this night seemed to be one of the latter. Finding his way into her bedroom in the middle of the night, he had comfortably slipped himself under her blankets. Arms, slender but toned, wrapped their way around her waist and pulled the woman in closer to him; she smelled sweet and, indeed, it was a lot warmer. Zacharie didn’t like sleeping in the living room - it was cold and lonely, all things that seemed to plague him the most at night.

“You’re warmer,” he mumbled, face buried into her hair, “Votre parfum est si doux. Si doux, si chaud.” French slipped over his tongue a lot better than Korean, especially know that there was some alcohol in his system. Though it may have been difficulty understanding him, the sensuality of the foreign language and the way his breath danced past her ears in a hushed whisper was difficult to mistaken. Arms tightening around her waist, Zacharie’s fingers slipped just under the hem of her shirt, running along her skin. She was lovely.