#mpxyuyan

After careful consideration, they have decided that Yuyan would be better suited as Supergirl, so Osiris will be there as Superman. He arrives in a sober Clark Kent-like outfit and glasses, but will sneak away somewhere throughout the evening to tear it off and return as Superman; new to this party and ready to dance with everyone all over again. His Kryptonite? Definitely hugs.

The worries about the expectations of his father and his next competition had left his mind briefly though as he had seen a girl struggling. It seemed she might have some kind of injury on his leg, he was intimately familliar with the sight of them as a high flying member of the professional figure skating world, both in opponents and sometimes himself. Usually he pushed through minor injuries though. Yet here he was, telling her to take it easy. Unknowing that this wasn’t just an injury. “Take it slow, did you hurt yourself?” Absentmindedly he reached a hand up to stroke a leave off the girl her hair that had tangled in it when she’d been on the ground just then.

He didn’t turn back, instead focused on the half completed dissection on the student’s lab bench. Hwiyoung wasn’t a teacher - and with his temper could never be one - but he’d clearly lost a bet and was a guest lecturer for the day. “To the supply closet? Maybe - I didn’t pay attention,” she responded honestly, pointing to her stitches, “Your suturing needs work.”

He puts away his brush for a moment, resting his elbow on the table and his chin in his palm. It may not look like it, but if Kibin has to continue for one more second without a break, he may just rip his paper to shreds. Art, man. He gives Yuyan his full attention so that he can listen and offer advice if she needs it. It’s at that moment that he feels wetness leak through his shirt sleeve, and he looks down with a startled jerk to see that he’s rested his elbow right in his watercolor painting.  “....dammit!”