xx. they forgot something.

airheaded—jinri’s had the adjective slung at her number of times, a play on her gift and (though she wouldn’t like to admit it) a pretty accurate one to utilise when describing the girl; it’s certainly a word that runs through her thoughts—along with a slew of frustrated expletives— as she searches through her bag for a certain something, embarrassed and panicked. she can’t find it, she can’t find it, the little bound, black moleskine she used for a variety of things, tattered and worn from her varieties of distress.

the brunette heaves a sigh, dark eyes searching the heavens—as if they’d be there, unless she’d… no, no, no—before dropping to her hands; she frowns, stroking a pale thumb against a blushing fingertip—she’d been busy in the last while, leaving her digits to forget the cutting caress of steel strings and grow irate.

steel strings.

she pulls out her phone, searching through her contacts before pressing the device to her cheek; contemplation colours her face as the dialtone continues to hum (this has to be it, it has to be), eyes widening with foolish surprise as she’s presented with a greeting. jinri clears her throat, tongue flicking across her lower lip before she responds, “hi! um, by any chance, did i leave a little notebook behind?”