#prdongseon

APRIL 2020, with @prdongseon

“thanks for coming along.”

not that she gave him much choice. with the amount of gossip she shares with him, it works out in the end, sort of. three clients worth of gossip for company to a black market guns dealer only seems fair. protection is in the deal, of course. that’s why she asked dongseon to accompany her in the first place, even if she never really mentioned it explicitly. liying trusts that he can knock someone out before they can pull out a gun on her.

that doesn’t mean she isn’t carrying anything, the pistol in the inner pocket of her coat making it heavier than usual.

this isn’t her go-to guy, hence why she isn’t going alone this time. he's out of the country for the next month and referred her to someone who referred her to someone else. all for this one revolver she’s had her eyes on for a while. a new addition to her personal collection if all goes well.

she walks ahead of dongseon, leading the way to the address provided by this new guy. “should just be around the corner.” they round the corner and—of course, they’re faced with a fried chicken shop. she assumes the operation takes place in the back and rolls her eyes. classic, as in tacky. well, now the instructions provided in the text make sense.

after glancing at her companion, she heads in. it’s mostly empty save for a small group of plastered office workers in the corner. putting on a sharp smile, she walks up to the nearest staff member. “hi, i’m here to speak with your manager.” the temptation to cringe is just as overwhelming as the smell of chicken grease permeating the air. 

god, she misses her usual dealer.

@prdongseon​

Just unveiled from behind the mass of mysterious cardboard: a scalloped velvet daybed to replace the cracked Mies Barcelona, two rolled sleeves, and a pair of sun-kissed biceps begging a little bit of that tender Cal loving. Awash in the brilliant sheen of golden hour, Dongseon looks every bit the Greek god he unrighteously isn’t.

Today, like most days, Cal doesn’t bother with restraint. There isn’t any fanfare to his approach, keeping to the shadows before the final pounce. He observes as Dongseon strips away the last of the tape, crushes into a ball, and then breaks down the box. He fits it under his arms, neck catching sunlight and line of sweat glinting into the disaffected lens of Cal’s eyes like some soft porn setup.