#yjolive

after a rather uneventful morning at the bookstore, jonas had chosen walking back to the sharehouse over taking the bus, as he so often did. it was a decision that came back to bite him in the ass, however, when a downpour began when he was still a few blocks away from home. he cursed under his breath at his own, rotten luck, and quickened his pace from a gentle walk to a near run. even through futile attempts, his glasses got impossibly wet, impairing his already impaired vision.

minutes later, when he arrived in the shelter of the main building of the sharehouse, there wasn’t an inch of him that was left untouched by the rain. he sighed, clearly disgruntled at being unable to dry his glasses off on his shirt. something that was claimed ill advised by most, but he couldn’t bring himself to mind too much.

jonas snuck into the kitchen with careful footsteps, socks impossibly wet against the tile floor, and likely slippery, which is why he kept watch of his own feet. it’s better to be safe than sorry.