#mmserin

@mmserin​ !

as a prefect, patrolling the school to enforce curfew was just one of the few jobs that were given to them, and iseul took his role very seriously. 

well, as serious as one could be when the one in question had yet to actually memorize the layout of yosul and instead frequently found themselves stuck on a moving staircase when trying to get from point a to point b. by now, it was just part of his routine. after reorienting himself, iseul is definitely more than a little late getting back to the original area he was supposed to be in, but thankfully there seems to be no one roaming the halls tonight.

he’s sort of relieved about it- not because he hates confrontation or anything ( which is only a tiny bit of a lie anyways )-, but because the sooner that he can finish his duties, the sooner he can actually get started on that transfiguration homework he’s been putting off doing for a while.

but as soon as he rounds the corner he spies a student emerging from the baek ho dorms, and upon closer inspection, recognizes the one and only ryu serin. magical beasts extraordinaire, 7th year, and ( most importantly! ) the coolest girl he knows. iseul finds himself waving to her shyly before he closes the gap between them in a few quick, long strides ( if only so that the older girl could hear him speak without having to strain her ears ).

“ah, noona...!” he greets, polite as always, but with a hint of fondness leaking through his tone. a quizzical look crosses over his features then, and he tilts his head to the side slightly as he takes in serin’s wide, worried eyes coupled with her frazzled nature. his original question of “what are you doing up so late?”  is instead tactfully changed to:

usually, haram likes things rampant. uncontrollable, unrestrained and left at raw. just like how people were born, just like how they are innately. but just for the clarification: he means people, not magical creatures.

“aren’t you too old to let the flies get to you? i mean… it’s sort of embarrassing, really.”

he’s looking at serin on the floor, her hair disheveled and almost a crow’s nest with what he assumes is from the pixies’ hair pullings and tricks. wherever the cries and screams are, haram goes. wherever rack and ruins are, haram goes. yet, he only scurried his way over and down the hall for this mess. or, simply serin (a mess herself,) with a sprained ankle.

it just had to be serin, didn’t it?

“you always talk about being the noona, and yet– everyday you seem to prove otherwise.” if it were any other people, haram would simply hand over the sympathy-ridden smile of his and walk past. however, serin here is a special case. if he threw his usual remarks of, ‘oh, i’m so sorry. i hope you get that patched up soon,’ or ‘failure is the mother of success!,’ he knows serin out of all people won’t just scoff it off, viewing him as a typical cheong ryeong kid like most.

he almost wishes she would. too much.

“episkey.” pulling out his wand, he crouches down to tepidly swing along her ankle. it would serve haram a side dish of an entertainment to see her at the hospital wing, explaining however she let the creatures free and ended up with the damage. yet, he passes on the opportunity to cancel out the consequences. whatever those may be. serin’s one of the only one he fails to predict, almost too transparent that her brain’s opaque when he tries to see through her.