I just love this little dude’s design. He’s another Ani-M Town character - he moved in recently but nobody really knows where from or what he even is, so there’s all sorts of rumors about him.

Summary: A strange person who appeared in town recently. Nobody knows what he is or where he's from, with the kids thinking he's either a foreigner or a lost experiment. He doesn't talk if he can help it and seems scarier than he is. His ears move independently of his arms but he usually has them mimic his arm movements. Dewitt wants to be his friend really badly.

It’s twenty minutes to midnight when the clock in their room strikes -- Jongin kicking Moonkyu to fix the goddamn fucking spoilt gadget. He turns away as the latter leans in for a kiss on his lips, telling him, ‘the bloody clock first before you get anything.’ Moonkyu lets out a despairing sigh of anger before pulling himself away from that addictive scent of Jongin’s; musky and a little desperate when night falls. He reaches out for the key, winding up the grandfather’s clock his parents’ had left for him in the apartment. It’s annoying when Moonkyu has to fix something for five fucking minutes doing it the right way, when he could’ve done it within twenty seconds if Kai wasn’t there to overlook the process. “Don’t you fucking dare to wind it anti-clockwise, Moonkyu.” “Wouldn’t do so in my life,” he jabs Jongin verbally, smiling to himself when he realizes that it was indeed pretty fun to do so. “Wouldn’t get ass tonight if I did so.” “Fuck off.” “Wouldn’t do so in my life.” Moonkyu repeats himself, turning over to look at Jongin in a black wifebeater, slouching on the couch as he briefly flips through the television guide. He leaves the key in the clock, making his way towards the other. Jongin stares right into his eyes when Moonkyu lifts his chin up, and he doesn’t miss the absolutely non-subtle way how the latter was glancing at his lips. He’s letting his eye flicker over to the wooden clock hung a couple feet away from them, but he no longer cares because Moonkyu kisses him just the way he likes -- both their lips are wet, and their lids tightly screwed together as Jongin throws the guide somewhere behind the couch, wrapping his arms around Moonkyu’s neck. The clock strikes seven, telling them that it was way off timing, but Jongin doesn’t care as time doesn’t matter when they’re together.