#ogonlexis

SEND A "!" IN MY INBOX TO SEE HOW IT'D BE IF OUR MUSES DATED

who cooks normally?: Although both of them doesn't have any need for human food, Jihoon would be the one cooking if it were to happen, simply because he has a great passion for culinary arts. 

how often do they fight?: Rarely ever, because they're both quite independent and compromising wouldn't be too difficult either. 

what do they do when they’re away from each other?: Depending on the distance and the time span, Jihoon would be the type to send Alexis both letter and gifts to make her feel appreciated even though he's not present. Both of them would make sure to stay in touch, most likely by phone calls, to make sure the other is doing fine. 

nicknames for each other?: Brata & Sestra would be the basic ones but Jihoon would probably come up with something more cheesy, like printsessa or imperatritsa ( the latter due to his emperor title, of course. )

who is more likely to pay for dinner?: Jihoon, as a gentleman he would never let Alexis pay. 

who steals the covers at night?: Neither of them, they'd be nestled up pretty close to each other, most likely just resting and not sleeping. 

what would they get each other for gifts?: Jihoon would get Alexis many, small meaningful gifts. Be it jewelry, clothes or just flowers. For special occasions he'd of course give her "bigger" gifts. Things would probably be the same the other way around. 

who remembers things?: Both of them, they're too " old " and too caring to forget. 

who cusses more?: Probably Alexis, Jihoon rarely ever cusses. he sees it as an unnecessary contribution.

what would they do if the other one was hurt?: They would take care of each other until the other one is better. wether be it emotionally or physically, they'd be there both to support and comfort.

who kissed who first?: Jihoon kissed Alexis first. 

who made the first move?: Jihoon. 

Attachment; picture: 

Text to: Sestra. { Nice, eh? Perfect for our future children. }

Attachment; audio: (/Sarcastic laughter.)

text to: Sorella

➤ Oh dear god. I think I just had a heart attack.

➤ Is that even possible?

; send me ❛ brush ❜ for my character's reaction to your character running their fingers through my character's hair.

{ ♚ } — He's looking right back into her eyes, and for a moment it's as if time stands completely still. As if the earth itself stopped spinning and the universe stopped in its own tracks.  His breathing is slow and this is yet another one of those moments when he wishes his heart wasn't still. Because he would have loved to feel it beat in its own little pace. After all these years, he has forgotten what it feels like.  But it isn't relevant anymore, as he steps forward to rest his head upon her shoulder with a sigh, eyes closing as he just... remains still.

   He needs a simple moment of comfort and it's so easy to find in her presence. Because she's genuine, and he knows he can trust her. He knows it well, even though their opinions might differ in some matters. He's not afraid of displaying his weaknesses to her because she won't exploit them. So he stands silent, he breathes slowly and he can feel the gentle weight of her hand upon his back, the other moving through his hair so soothingly it almost makes him weary for a second or so. Oh how he misses to feel safe like this; to feel as if the world outside can crumble without him having to be the supporting pillar. Far too many times has his bones been crushed because of other people's sorrows.

   He needs to stop caring more for other's wellbeing than he cares for his own. But how can he? When he blames himself enough for at least a thousand lifetimes already? Because he has caused the world so much evil already, he needs to repent. Even though he hasn't killed an innocent being in a century. He shakes his head, and after a moment he looks up at her, his usual lilac hue replaced by murky crimson as he pulls back, takes a few steps away from her as flashing the smallest of smiles. " Thank you. " He mouths and then he pivots on his heels, as graceful as always, when he wanders away.

      Because he can't speak of these thoughts with anyone; especially not with her.  

Now, it was about time the Hatter had reveled in the beauty of all things that were riddles. Not to mention that his enthusiasm for all things of a particular familiarity had waned upon the male. A riddle, did she hold? One that caused most obvious sense of alertness in the dying embers of violet flames -- those orbs had turned immediately, dark locks that merely had coiled over time in loose motions to the sound of her voice. A tone that was ever so clear and sincere that it had taken a moment to still the cavity allocated within his chest.

       "How troublesome."

Brows that now furrowed in the gentlest of subtle disapproval. For was the great Mad Hatter stumped for the first time? There was a single pause in which his own digits had paused to caress the surface of his lower tier -- a small habit that had now grown accustomed in his momentary exchanges with his own mind. "Good for nothing when bought -- an extraordinary boon." Words that were slowly repeated soundlessly before pausing as his tiers pressed against the surface of the upper roof of his own mouth.

A gentle exhale followed by another before the faint trace of a cheeky smile arose upon rose coloured tiers. For it was as obvious to all those who knew of this man -- quite truthfully, he had known from the start. Though her own eyes had failed to meet his own -- for his own had peered elsewhere -- now lulled from one side to her own. "how cheeky you are..."

Though there was no denying his obvious amusement in such a small manner. His own head had tipped to one side. The black fedora that had been situated upon his head was simply brushed and pulled upon the top of his head, casually placed it upon her own dark tresses before inching closer to her own physique. Cool skin against cool that brushed against in casual mannerisms for his affections were quite inexplicably obvious -- especially when it revolved around the female in question.  "To ask for such a tedious little thing... in such a way..." A tone that was nearly hypnotic; subtle in the gesture of courting and nevertheless all the more playful. A single index that wrapped around the surface of her slender chin, tipping his very neck upwards with a mere coax of powerful hands that later was pressed upon by his own thumb. The reaction had been automatic, those lips sealed upon her own.

Perhaps she had known such a manner of response would reciprocate in regards to his answer. A single release that lingered upon the sweet exhale that had escaped. An emotion that was ever so powerful and yet ever so troubling and almost primitive to the calculating male...

11 A hug