yours truly, junior.

Jongin, as most people do, hated Mondays. Customers rarely walked in during the day and he’d finish all of his deliveries within the half hour. So when Junior had randomly called him, very urgently requesting his presence at the University’s dance studio, he was basically already on his bike and on the way.  The two had been on the school’s dance team together before he had dropped, and it was probably one of the few things he sorely missed about being a student. 

He was going to ignore it, because he always does. The man handing out the fliers standing at the corner of the street was something he’s seen far too often to consider it to be of any importance. It was probably yet another ad for a magical hair growth potion, or maybe plastic surgery. It never pertained to him, until now. This time it’s not the usual old man but a rather excited teen, shoving papers in everyone’s faces as they pass by – Jinyoung being no exception. He grudgingly takes the flier, only to thank the lord for not throwing it away immediately. A dance competition. That’s all he needs to read for his phone to be out, message to be sent.

yojunioh

When he said he’d listen, he didn’t think it’d get this far. However, he doesn’t stop it because everyone needs to let things off his chest and who is he to hold him back? He leans his head back, staring at the ceiling for a second before back at the older male before him. “It sounds like a mess,” He doesn’t mean it in an offensive way, but he’s quick to clear out any confusion. “I mean, it’s all a mess of thoughts and I’d say the best thing would be to sort it all out. There’s nothing worse than being lost in your own body, not knowing where to go next because it’s a maze that you should know like the back of your hand but you don’t.”

                                      ´·—※{※————— yojunioh —————※}※—·´

When Jinyoung sees a girl there’s one of two things he hopes for. One, that she’s cute. Two, that she thinks he’s cute. So when he’s walking down the road, the sky a bit too black, lights a bit too dim, he’s considering “saving” the stranger a few feet in front of him, helping her find her way back home because she clearly looks lost. However, the closer he gets the more he reconsiders his opinion. There’s a feeling in the pit of his stomach that twists at his insides and brings bile to his throat. True fear ... but from what? A girl on the streets? Better question: why? He only gets the answer to his question when she momentarily looks over her shoulder and there’s a shiver sent down his spine. One that clearly caught her attention enough for her to stop and address the matter.

{ ※ — a study in pink                   S&J

He’s been staring at the Barnett Newman painting for over half an hour now, almost stunned by the magnificence of the creation. It’s a painting that most people, especially those his age, would walk by without a single glance. What makes it so special? Nothing. At least, that’s what most people would say, yet he’s standing absolutely immersed by the expanse of red that stands grand and large before him. His thoughts are interrupted as the weight of a foot falls upon his own and he’s wincing almost immediately. A curse leaves his lips as a breathy whine, till the apologies bombard his senses. He looks up, eyes falling on a face that looks familiar enough. He’s staring at her for a bit too long, until it hits him. Volunteering.

( ‘she’ll listen to it all any other day but now. this pounding thing in her head that’s threatening to get curses out of her mouth because the younger boy just won’t shut up about—what is it that he’s talking about again? either way right now’s not the time. she’s not even mad at him or the world, just this relentless headache. god, make it go away. she would resort to pills, but she hates swallowing them. bad experience. then—then he starts singing and soji can’t believe her ears, wonders if she should maybe kick him out of the library. that would be good. but she can’t kick customers. if she wants them out, she can’t yell either. always gotta be polite. this fucking bullshit. she’s straightening because as it seems he just won’t shut it.’ ) Look here, are you trying to make me punch you out of here? ( ‘it doesn’t mean that she can’t voice out her displeasure and what will happen if she’s pushed to the edge. customer or not, respect goes both ways.’ ) Because I will, and it will hurt. 

{ ` heads turn and all the attention is on him again, just how he likes it. He knows the etiquette of a library, but the fact that his noona is the librarian gives him free-reign. at least, he thinks it does. grinning from ear to ear he presses his palms against the counter of the librarian’s desk, leaning closer to whisper now, but only because he’s getting a death glare from a rather scary looking man. } You wouldn’t do that would you? I’d tell your boss and then you’d get fired! We all need money, you can’t just throw it away like that. { ` with a firm nod, he narrows his eyes at her, skepticism evident in his features. }  You? Hurt me? You doubt me so much, it wounds my heart. Plus, if you did touch me, I’m pretty sure I could just scream and lay some sexual harassment claim or something. Who wouldn’t believe me? I’m cute as hell, all the noonas want me.

yojunioh 。

The game isn't the thing that's terrible. { ` with tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth from concentration, he moves his body as if it'll help steer the car on the screen. the sound of his vehicle crashing into the other's has him grinning from ear to ear. } I'd say you're really bad at this, but fact is -- I'm just really good. Like immensely good. Like I am the gaming God.

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