#meloq

(  Sentence Meme sentences  )

        Jay’s running out of patience at this moment, fingers nervously tapping on the counter as he attempts to catch the barman’s attention for the thrid time. He doesn’t mind waiting in general, yet with another guy sneaking forward, occupying his spot, he groans, abruptly grabbing the male’s shoulder, turning him around so the latter had to face him. Theyve never met before, yet a brief look is enough for Jay to develop a sort of uncongenial feeling. Maybe it’s just the annoyance rushing through his veins, yet it doesn’t explain much, either.

    “Just relax.”

What a ridiculous thing to say right now, Jay thinks, snorting in response. With a mocking roll of his eyes, he stares at the stranger, narrowing eyes with an obvious irritation lacing his words. “I want to order a one single beer and I’m sick of such kids like you, trying to avoid the queue.” An infamous, mysterious smirk stretches across full lips as Jay casually steps in front of the male, approaching the counter. There’s only a short hiss escaping his mouth as he peeks at the male out of the corner of his eye. “Wait for your turn, kid.”

        —— Headphones on and music blasting into her ears, Silver made her way down the block and towards the library. It was exam week, and if she wanted a good score, she knew she had better start studying now. Turning the corner, she retrieved her phone from her back pocket to change the song. Just then, she bumped into something. “ Ah— I— ” She pulled her headphones down around her neck before glancing up, only to see a taller, slim male was that ‘ something ‘ she had bumped into. She proceeded to bowing her head in an apologetic manner before something else had caught her eye— “ Oh my gosh, your shirt! ” Her bumping into him probably caused his drink to spill on his shirt— and of all places, it was clearly stained across his chest. She was usually never this careless, let alone not pay attention to where she was going and cause this kind of mess. “ I’m sorry, I— Is there a laundromat near here that we can run to quickly to clean this up? ”

  First meeting starters. ( x )

؟ Your muse left their bag somewhere. My muse used the contents to locate the owner and return the bag.

     During the hustle and bustle of a typical after show it made sense for belongings to be lost, herself even recalling a few times losing some possessions, which just made the situation feel more life like. She had appreciated it on a previous occasion when a lost cellphone had been returned, and also felt upset when a lost notebook was not– but that’s just how things went, and only added up to her moral of treat others how you wish to be treated.

    Laying down on a hide-away table in the corner was a black over-the-shoulder bag, and with the surroundings being near empty, she figured the possession had been left behind, and the owner had not yet come to a realization of the missing bag. It was rare for her to sort through anothers stuff, but this was a situation that she dictated eligible, and she knew the moment she found some sort of identification she’d stop rummaging, not wanting to get into the personal aspects of anothers life.

    In a mere few minutes a slight pocket book had been found in a side pocket of the item, which had a collective of different numbers inside. Blessing the fact that the book had a position for your own information and that the owner had bothered to fill it out she was quick to enter the digits into her dial pad, hoping she’d get an answer and not need to leave a voicemail.

Being too wrapped up in work had payed its price, ending up having Harley on his back. But rather than staying on the phone with her once he had actually bothered to pick up (work, work, work; no time), he had headed over to meet her. fighting over the phone was nothing he wanted, considering he wouldn’t be able to read her expressions. Explanations were needed, and Wonho weren’t just going stand such insults coming out of nowhere — just because he hadn’t been able to check his phone. In reality, he could have glanced at it every once in a while, but he hated being interrupted, as distraction was never a good thing. And it was with annoyance he came to knock at her door, wondering what had made her say such a thing. Once the door opened, he leaned closer, not saying a word to begin with; in a weak attempt to calm himself.

“I can’t help that I’m busy, that doesn’t legitimize you insulting me. You’re overreacting.” He started, even without any type of greeting. This was serious, and as much as he was a patient person, this time he wasn’t having none of it (especially not considering the lack of sleep and increase of stress lately). Though angry, Wonho never forgot the promise he had made to Harley; to always be there for her. And he was, but for her to to do this over a few missed phone calls made no sense. Even if she had quite the temper, it was unlike her to just blurt out anything she pleased — at least with him. “Either you explain what reason you have to be so upset before you insult me, or you don’t say anything to begin with.” Harsh it might have sounded, and it was precisely what he was aiming for; aggravation stuck in the tip of his tongue, making sure he wouldn’t bite back with a worse insult. He wouldn’t go that low, no matter what she had in store.

His words held a bite and weight to them that caused Harley to nearly recoil and if she hadn’t already opened the door wide enough for him to come inside. He was convinced she was overreacting and she was feeling in her heart that it was justified. Which, to a very severe extent, it was. But she had also not explained fully enough what had happened (or rather, who had happened), but there was no time for that since her temper had already been flared. It was a rare occurrence, though when it happened, it was very had to calm it down. A part of her felt bad for flipping out on him, especially since they’d never argued like this before. Sure, a little tiff here and there and some snide comments, but never nothing malicious and never anything that warranted her having the urge to slap him. She refrained, of course, but that didn’t stop how she felt

Some time ago, he had made her a promise that he’d always be there for her if and whenever she needed him. Of course, Harley never expected to need to take him up on that offer aside from those occasional nights when she was restless and knew he was awake. However, that morning her old manager had weasled his way to the front steps of her dorm and she nearly panicked. There were very few that could strike a fear in her and that man was one of them. He was yelling many things and banging on the front door as though he was going to break it down. The whole ordeal was one that had Harley cowering curled up in the corner of her room frantically trying to contact Wonho with no success. Though it took an hour for him to finally give up and leave, she was still shaken up. Yet, the response she received from Wonho quickly turned her fear to hurt and then to anger.  Which was how he wound up in the living room of her dorm some vicious words later.

“Go away?” His fist tightened, nails digging into the skin of his palm, trying his best not to say anything more. Voice strained, trying to not let emotions shine through (but failing quite miserably), he looked away in order not to rile himself up any further. They had already exchanged a number of insults, and Wonho could feel the control of his temper deteriorating. Usually he was good at keeping himself calm in almost any situation, but with her interrupting him; not continuing the discussion when he had actually bothered enough to stay throughout a conflict. Avoiding confrontations like this was something that had become a habit, trying anything to get away from any kind of tension. But this time — it had been too much. And if there was anyone he wouldn’t turn away from, it was Seolhyun.

Taking a step closer; which could have been seen as threatening, he stopped a good meter away from her, just to show her that he wasn’t planning on going that far. He would never, not even when furious. “I’m not going to leave when you haven’t listened to my side of the story. You can’t just tell me your complaints and not letting me have a say in it too. I listen to you, you listen to me. That’s how people solve things, isn’t it? Frankly, I don’t care if you don’t want me here, I’m staying until this is over with. Tell me what I did wrong because you accuse me of something, and as long as you don’t play the guessing game with me, I’ll try to apologize. Do we have ourselves a deal? After that, I’ll gladly leave you alone.” There was no use in trying, it seemed. Seolhyun didn’t look too interested in listening anymore.

“I’m pretty sure I didn’t stutter.” She was tired at this point. Unwilling to even walk out of the room. Her stress just kept building up, and her anger was pushing through—though she tried to suppress most of it. She was never the one to get angry over something stupid, but the heat of the moment pushed her a little too far. “If I listen to you, will you actually listen or will you just get quiet and stare at me for the longest time, as if you’re judging me for getting mad? Because that’ll just make me feel like shit. I’m tired, Wonho. I’m so tired.” Her brows scrunched together before she stood up, walking around the apartment as she tried to calm down. Her voice kept shaking; her pride was getting the best of her. “I shouldn’t be mad over something stupid, but it’s been bothering me for a while.”

Sure, it was an extreme question, but sometimes her irritation reached an irrational level. Only sometimes, though. But, unfortunately today was one of those sometimes and Wonho was the one having to hear her mouth about it. Of course she knew it was still illegal, she didn’t need his words to confirm that, though they did. Leave it to him to be overly calm and balanced, compared to her emotions that had a habit of flying left right. Huffing slightly, the brunette sat herself down on the floor and crossed her legs, her chin resting in her hand. “Someone ate my last slice of cheesecake.” Sure, the situation wasn’t as severe as most would think, but food mattered an unreal amount to the girl. “And maybe it’s not autopsy worthy, but still. I was craving it.”