#thread;yeri

Yerim's face brightens and she gestures with a tilt of her head for the other to follow her, leading her to no place in particular yet as she racks her brain for something to do. She usually never has solid plans, just wanders around befriending strays and trying to flirt her way to getting a free drink or popsicle from any nearby mini mart to help cool her down from the summer heat until something fun presented itself to her.

"Let’s survive this first," the girl says, pulling Yesul along as she jaywalked across the street, chuckling at the angry honks from drivers she had irritated. "We can pretend to be hotel guests and take advantage of their pool." Yerim suggests once they both reach the opposite sidewalk unscathed; pulling the sleeves of her t-shirt up over her shoulders in attempt to feel fresher.

Stress seemed to be what was shadowing the male's face. Yerim didn't know if it was because of his work or his personal life and she doubted he'd tell her if she pried, but she knew he needed a distraction. So with a quick search on her phone she found a Pop Standards playlist, turned up the volume on her phone and pulled him up from where he was sitting to dance with her; letting the warm, incandescent voice of Nat King Cole to lead them along.

"Yep," The short girl agreed, glancing down to place her bare feet on top of his as they held each other close. "Most old people are," she teased.

"Your sad naked body," The young girl scoffs as she throws herself down on the couch. "It'll be what I see during sleep paralysis now, thanks."

“But I promised,” Yerim went on, as if by promising meant she couldn’t possibly go back on her word—though they both knew she would. “Come on, please? If I start to cause problems or become annoying, we can leave, okay? So, can I come along, please? I’ll stay close.” She pouted up at him as she practically hung off one of his arms.

Yerim rolled her eyes with a chuckle. Any other day she’d entertain the older girl for longer but Yerim was too lazy to deal with Chaewon’s Superiority complex.

 “If I say ‘yes’ will you go away and let me sleep?”

She knew she shouldn’t have tried. She wasn’t feeling confident that night and her hands were shaking from the chill outside, but Yerim was desperate. She hadn’t eaten in the past two days and a crowded bunch of drunk and tired locals waiting for the subway was her chance on getting a meal; no matter how small it would be.

Making a run for it was still an option that lingered stubbornly in her mind—despite her sore left ankle that resulted from her trip just moments earlier—as she frowned down at the stranger’s hand, her own wrapping tightly around the loose cash she had lifted off him.

“Would you believe me?” She questioned, wincing internally as she felt the beginnings of a bruises forming around her knees.

"Ah Jihwan-ah," Yerim laughed a bit, hurrying to step onto the artificial ice and make her way over to where the young child had fallen. She had offered to look after the kid and entertain him for the day, encouraging his parents to take the opportunity to enjoy themselves.

"That's why I told you to wait for me," she scolded lightheartedly, reaching to take one of his hands in her own and help pull him up right. “Did you hurt yourself?”

chin hands. "spill."

Yerim whines, bringing her hands up to cup her face in an attempt to hide her reddening cheeks. “But it’s embarrassing, I get all mushy and heart eyes for them and I don’t like to let people see me like that.”