#stormyvibe

“I do not think it was possible for me to harbor a love for pastries so intensely but here I am now with you enjoying every bit of my croissant and you, your bagel. I blame the bakery for creating such delicious treats to enjoy.” There must be some kind of magic that they place into their baked goods to have her coming back so often to sate her appetite. “But then, it makes you wonder, doesn’t it? If it is truly loved if you are consuming the very thing that you love? Or is this another form of love that we have yet to understand or discover altogether?” Certainly food for thought she thinks, carefully taking bites at the corners of the croissant before making her way towards the center. Her favorite part of the croissant. “Has there at least been someone who has come as close to your love for the bagel?” 

“if it’s not about me than no.” a chuckled escaped his lips. minho wasn’t the type to be full of himself so it was obvious he’s messing with her. he’s always been the type that enjoys listening to other peoples reasonings. so why would he reject the offer? “i’m kidding, but please tell me. my ears are open.”

hyejung was getting lost in her thoughts again, and it wasn’t supposed to be about her. “we’ve talked a few times an’ maybe.. i guess, we can talk a few more? not sure if i ever really introduced myself. m’name’s hyejung. most people call me hye. or brat, or troublemaker, whatever floats your boat. y’know? nice.. t’finally meet ya? don’t really know what people do when they first meet each other. it’s weird.”

                            ❝ sweetheart, i’m not sure i ever really had a mind to lose in the first place. ❞ he laughs, eyes wild with an odd excitement, as he passes his already marred hand over the zippo and opens it — the smell of the lighter fluid tickles the nose, and then he flicks his thumb and the flame rises, just beneath his palm. ❝ lookie there — nice an’ toasty. y’know, when i was younger, i liked to burn the hairs on my arm off. i don’t really have any left, though. ❞ he pauses, hums a tune. ❝ for the record, this is not how i burned my hands. ❞

“I don’t know. Maybe, deep down, there’s a psychopath in me?” Jaejoong asked, somewhere between amused and wondorous. “Maybe I should switch my career to one of a serial killer. I could be the second coming of Jigsaw.”

Indigo rolled her eyes, throwing her hand down dismissively at the other woman before her. The two of them hadn’t known one another long, and because of that, it was easy for Storm to get sucked into Indigo’s words. Most of the things that came out of the idol’s mouth was in fact harmless, but the way she said them, her body language, and her uninterested attitude about almost everything made it seem otherwise. And Storm fell in the trap, unknowingly. “Girl, how old are you? Throwing a fucking tantrum. In public, no less! Tuh! Girl. That could not be me.” A dark chuckle escaped her lips as she put on her sunglasses, tying her hair up in a messy ponytail. “When you want to be a grown woman, you find me. But until then…” Indigo took a final sip of her coffee before leaving a tip on the table and waving by to the staff. “Keep all of this baby bullshit ten miles away from me, sweetheart.” With that, she exited for the small shop and made her way out to the street. 

Are you trying to indirectly ask me to bring you pizza?If so, then no. Go to sleep.

        As of someone who was born with two left hands and uncoordinated feet it is an absolutely marveling phenomenon to see the youngster not stepping over her feet for more than three times or actually grasping the general, rough idea of the slow dance. In his chest a warm feeling of gratitude to the extent of indebtedness because she could have easily refused to succour him in learning how to dance (for the sake of impressing his poor girfriend whos feet been stomped on countless times) however kindly decided to aid. And the evaluation was evident in his smile that graced his lips ever so tenderly and genuinely... well, until he stepped onto her foot for the fourth time, and that was when he decided to give up. His hand on his nape, rubbing the shamefacedness off was only one demeanor of timidity (as well as glancing down) that appeared once he backed away and mumbled apologetic words.