"Wow, why the fuck am I taking part of society." She laughed bitterly as she kicked a can down the street, trying to ignore the pain in her chest and her want to throw up.
After being thrown out of the training center for fighting with his manager again— what’s that make this week? three times?— Damon decides that he’s going to get his practice no matter what he has to do. So he’s wandering the streets, practically looking for trouble, when the swears of a young woman in passing catch his attention. “Hey…” he says as he turns. “You alright, miss?”
They’ll have to:
- Rate on a scale of 1-10 how much they don’t want to answer that question.
- Answer that question.
God. Jiwon is the cutest thing he’s ever beheld in his life. His arms tighten for a moment, and he kisses her because hell, it’s all he wants to do every time he sees her. He wants to see her smile, and laugh, and enjoy life without worrying about pain, and anger and hurt… and he wants to share in those moments for as long as he has them.
Hangil grins a little more, producing the bowl of chocolate coated strawberries, a rather traditional looking bento box filled with grilled meats, omelette and different salads, and then a bottle of champagne - because this is a celebration after all. His eyes lift to watch her as he pops the cork, and then carefully pours two glasses. When everything is prepared, he sidles closer and gently presses the glass into her hands before kissing her temple.
"Maybe first we should tell the little monster," he hums in response, smiling gently. "She’s your world, as she is mine."
Jiwon doesn’t pay much attention to anything but Hangil’s face as he unpacks the basket— though she does take slight notice of everything he’d put together for the occasion. It’s endearing, all the things he does for her that seem to be almost too much but that she knows takes very little effort, and it makes her smile even brighter.
She graciously accepts the glass as it’s pressed into her hand and she leans into the kiss that’s placed against her temple. This is definitely something she could get use to, spending every night next to him, being able to wake up with him next to her, watching her children grow up with a solid father figure. Yes, this is everything she wants— for her and her babies.
"She’s a little scatter brained over the phone," Jiwon says after taking a sip of the champagne. "I’m not sure she’d understand. How about this…" The young woman pauses and shifts, leaning a little more into Hangil, part of her shoulder blade pressing against his chest. "Tomorrow, we all go out to dinner— you, me, Ahri, and Jaehwa— and we can all celebrate and we can tell her together. Besides, I’m sure she’d much rather it be in person, that way she could squeeze you to death."
Another scowl, and then he’s stopping for a moment, readjusting his jeans and his belt before throwing a wolfish grin in Samantha’s direction. “Oh, I’m definitely sure, sweet-cheeks,” he hums, knowing how much she dislikes the pet term. After a moment, he chuckles and lifts a hand, dragging it through his hair before fixing up the mussed locks.
It was nice being able to flirt and play openly with someone who wasn’t going to blanch at his advances. Even if she did think it was the wolf thing. That irks him a little… but maybe she’ll see otherwise soon enough. Still… he’s not going to get offended easily, and he’s quite capable of dealing with anything she dishes out - or responds with because that’s just how he is.
Rocking back on his heels, he glances around them a little more. It is a little busy, and some of the others (mostly Lei) would definitely blanch at the amount of people, but he’s probably the only one who’s the most comfortable being around so many humans. “Don’t worry. Chanmin just prefers other things. You should ask him if he wants to go out for a drink some time. Or food. He doesn’t mind that. He just doesn’t really like big crowds. None of the guys do really.”
It might seem weird that he’s setting Samantha up on how to ask Chanmin out, but heck… the eldest gave up the opportunity to hang out with her because he knows Myungdae prefers bands and live music, so he can help out a little, right? Besides, sharing isn’t necessarily a bad thing. Chuckling at the way Samantha tries to talk around the mouthful, he tilts his brow and leans forward, wiping the pad of his thumb across the corner of her mouth to clear away a smudge of sauce before he licks it off.
"I don’t mind indie groups. Even if they do suck. They can play at least. Still, thanks for inviting me, Samantha. It’s nice to hang out."
Sweet cheeks. The playful term of endearment earns an equally playful scowl, nose scrunching a little as she side-steps just enough to bump him. Yes, this is definitely nice. Samantha can’t remember the last time she’d been allowed to be so open and free with her actions and words. Everything since she was little was always about discipline and structure and practice, practice, practice. Even now, the stiffs whose kids she teaches don’t offer her much room to breathe.
"A drink?" Samantha questions, glancing up at him— fuck, he’s really tall. She’s surprised by the suggestion, surprised that Myungdae would even consider attempting to set her up with best friend— because he just doesn’t seem that sort of person. Maybe she’d been wrong about him. "I’ll keep that in mind; thank you."
She continues eating her bulgogi, slowly and in a somewhat delicate manner— I might be a wolf but I’m a lady dammit and I’m going to act like one— until she finally tosses the empty skewer in a nearby trash can. Then she feels a warm finger against the corner of her mouth and she flinches a little, surprised by the action, before pulling away and wiping at her face as she looks up at him in mock-horror.
"Or they at least try to play," she corrects as the venture into the park where many have already started gathering on the lawn. "I’ve heard one or two of the groups here tonight and let me tell you…. I’d probably rather choke down wolfs-bane than listen to them try to burst my eardrums."
It’s always easy to tell when someone isn’t paying attention. Xuan Wu watches it first in the way the red haired male brushes shoulders with another student. He sees it again when he fails to follow the correct breathing routine. And then he sees it in the way their eyes meet and he falters. After the third attempt, even the old Turtle can’t stop the slight smile that tugs at his lips. He has missed training students, even humans… and after a few moments more he’s showing them the basics.
When he’s sure the students can follow most of what he’s just shown them - simple stretching movements that will really be all that there is to this first lesson - he starts moving through the rows. Every so often he stops, correcting a stance or slightly shifting a student’s arms or legs so they’re moving correctly.
When he stops in front of the red haired individual and the boy who had chatted so animatedly to him - perhaps the elder male was the brother he’d referred to - he tilts his head, arms folded as he watches. After a moment he smiles and then taps the boy’s left arm.
"Raise your arm a little more. Breathe out through your mouth when you lower your hands… and then breathe through your nose when you raise them. Your Chi will flow much better."
When the lesson begins, Alex is intent and follows as he’s shown. Though, out of instinct, he’s concerned for Elijah and he finds himself glancing over at the boy. Except Elijah is doing just fine. Great in fact, and he responds to the glances by sticking his tongue out at the red-head. The playful gesture throws him off momentarily and he wrinkles his nose, but then he’s responding in much the same manner.
Maybe Alex really should be paying more attention instead of playing into his little brother’s antics and messing around— and generally he knows better, but this is the first activity they’ve been able to do together in years and he has to admit that he’s enjoying it— because he’s not aware that the instructor is moving around until he’s right there and— Fuck. Ohfuckhe’srightthere.Fuckfuckfuckfuck. Don’t look at him— wait, you have to because he’s the teacher.
Raising his arm as instructed, Alex also lifts his gaze and meets the other male’s, even if only temporarily because then he’s going through the motions he’d been shown. His expression is apologetic because he really didn’t mean to disrupt things— and he strongly hopes that the instructor will have the heart to forgive him.
"Sorry," he offers quietly as he continues to do the poses and motions as they’d been shown.
"For what?" Soohyuk smiled a fake smile at the other to whom he wouldn't confess for a moment that he had dark thoughts towards his future and what may happen. For now he was aimless, yet knew that being a barista was not what he desired and never will be simply because it was a normal job. Angel had never been normal, done a nice to five job or even less tried to because he was never raised to fit into the world he had to live in. What Father taught him was that he was good for two thing - being commanded around and selling ones body to whomever was willing to have it. Being a barista demanded skills that he lacked or had under developed, leaving Soohyuk unhappy with himself to the point of depressing wanting to knock on his door. "A new job gives you new possibilities."
Angel eyed the boy before him who seemed to have someone in his life who cared enough about what his academic career went and life in general. Understanding that a piece of paper from a good school brought you further than anything else, Soohyuk had to bow his head before the younger boy. "I am...rather amazed as you surely have to be smart to stay in that school. I mean your father can pull strings to a certain point and yet you have to continue which I guess if why you are so buried in work. Personally I understand well that a diploma of a good school brings you far."
Nodding slowly to the others words, the slender tall male with a small purse of his lips and thus felt like he could pity the man while admiring him. "You work so hard for to get from one schooling house to another...do you know what you want to study or is that your father say as well?" Not wanting to step on any toes, Soohyuk only as a after thought noted the clean table and yet couldn't miss out on the things the boy had to carry. It seemed a lot for a young mind to push all that knowledge into ones head without wanting to strangle someone.
With the male’s reply, Jamie retracts his apology, though in not so many words because he’d only being saying sorry again and again until his tongue fell off. So he sits there and nods because the other is right. New job, new possibilites, new opportunites.
Jamie feels like the male’s next statement, though, is a blatant jab at his independence, individualism, and being able to choose for himself what he wants to do. He frowns, brows furrowing, but instead of turning the expression on the other next to him, he focuses on the last bit of cheesecake in front of him, poking at it and playing with it. The minor distraction offers enough time for the boy to gather his thoughts and what he’d like to say in reply, but everything he comes up with sounds lame.
"That’s part of our culture, though, right?" He doesn’t intent on responding with a question of his own, but it slips out before he can stop it. "The parents sacrifice everything for their child’s education, and in return the child owes them and so they follow the path their parents set in order to repay them." Jamie had done research on that for a school project the year before, when he was still attenting public school in America. "I still have a long way to go before I’m ready for university. By then, I’m sure I will have decided what I want to do."
Once the elder is done, Xiaolian slips the toy into his pocket, fixes up his jacket and gently pets the kitten before he starts towards the door as well. Outside, it’s gotten a little darker, and a little colder, and he shivers a little before shrugging down into the jacket more. Ordering in did sound nice, particularly because sometimes Xiaolian didn’t like the overly greasy smell that came with some of the food places they went to… and right now all he wants to do is hide under his blanket.
Tilting his head up, he carefully reaches for the bag from the elder, and then takes his hand with his own free one. “I’ll carry the bag, gege. I don’t mind, it’s not heavy.” He smiles gently, squeezing cool fingers before they start walking.
Jian smiles and allows the bag to be lifted from his grasp, too tired and achy to protest— and even though the bag is light, it’s a relief to have it taken away. Instead, he fits his hand against Xiaolian’s— because his skin is warm and the affection gives him comfort— grip loose around the boy’s fingers as they walk together, the elder doing his best to keep a steady pace.
"Start thinking about what you want to eat, alright? You pretty much know the menus by heart," he says with the smallest nudge. "And you know I’ll eat whatever you do." Or, rather, he’ll likely pick off of whatever Xiaolian gets because he usually can’t eat a whole meal by himself.
So…. I started painting my bathroom today and I got a different kind of primer and the fumes are awful and even though I had two fans and an open window…. the fumes are getting to me.
I’m gonna go lay down a while. I’ll be on AIM/inbox.
And so it begins. The game of how many times mom will ask “Do you work tomorrow?” before she goes to bed. Count: 1