#01 SHINee (Short ficlets and drabbles)
Seriously, I have no idea what i'm writing, but it's all in first person I realise. It's not in my perspective though, just thought to give readers a little imagination boost while reading it in first person. 8D.
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#001. Sometimes...
When you move into your new dorm, you notice things that weren't apparent before.
The hall was small and narrow, the carpet a funky colour of green (a hideous, hideous green). The walls were painted a bright yellow with white stripes running down vertically.
Your door was painted white. Copper numbers hanging dangerously off the pins stuck to the door. (I better get that fixed soon)
The room seemed so empty, but luxurious. White walls encased you. A heaven. (At least the carpets aren't green)
You drop your bags, waving goodbye to your escort.
Maybe visit the guys next to you?
Tomorrow, you think. There's no hurry to meet anyone.
But maybe, a peek wouldn't hurt?
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#002. Hello there, pretty lady.
(Taemin/random)
Your hands graze mine. Large, doe like eyes burned into my soul.
Damn, you're cute.
Such a charming smile, your smile. Yes, smile. I think I quite like that smile.
Fingers pressed lightly against the back of my hand. Your grip tightly, my knuckles turn white.
Oh, how my heart flutters.
My body flies into the air, a swift and graceful moment. Into your arms I go. Falling against you again and again and again.
Poetry in motion baby.
Are you alright? You ask.
Yes. Lie. I think so. Lie. Such a bad girl. What should I have said? No. My damn heart feels like it's about to jump out of my chest. You're such a hottie. Want my phone number?
Or maybe not.
You laugh, that melodious soft sound. I think I'm going to die.
Apologise, you did. You release my hands and I really don't want to let go of you, not yet. No.
You bow once. Don't bow twice. It's not my funeral. (1)
Strange feelings stir within me. I feel my face burning. Oh damn, do I have a fever?
You look at me, those beatuiful, beautiful doe like eyes. Your laugh again. Oh my heart snaps little by little. I let out a sigh.
Hello, you say and greet me. I tell your my name. So you should tell me yours now right?
You laugh.
I wish you would tell me, lie to me: Hello there, pretty lady.
"I'm Tae Min. How about I take you out for dinner tonight?"
Oh, it's close enough.
(1) Bowing twice means you're paying respects to a dead person or ancestor in Korean culture.
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#003 Push. Friction. Dance.
(Minho/random)
"I don't get it. It's such a simple equation." You mutter to yourself. It was such a simple simple equation.
After all, it's just sex. Purely body reaction to simple friction.
"What's so great about getting laid?" You ask yourself.
He gazes at your. Incomprehensible emotions laid bare that your complex mind will never understand.
His lips lift in a tiny smirk. You really don't understand him at all, do you?
His long arms reach for yours, and soon you find yourself on the dance floor with him.
You wish he would just reach out, grab you, take you, make you his.
Dirty, dirty thoughts. It's just friction. Nothing but pure friction. Scientific really, but your complex mind will never understand.
He wraps your arms around his neck. Hips gyrating slowly against yours in a lulling movement. It's just friction after all, he said.
His enchanting eyes capture yours in a swift movement, and you feel yourself, your damn equations collapsing withing a nano second.
His face nuzzled into the crook of your neck. Just keep dancing, he leads you on.
Your shouldn't be reacting like this. It's such a simple equation. But you don't understand. Not at all. Your calculations are never wrong. Never.
"It's nothing your complex mind would understand." He whispered huskily. His arms tightened around your waist as he drags you to dark corner. Your arms above your head, the smell of musky sweat, his hips, oh so lovely hips grinding.
It was all you needed. Screw calculations.
Lips smashing against one another.
-----
#001. Sometimes...
When you move into your new dorm, you notice things that weren't apparent before.
The hall was small and narrow, the carpet a funky colour of green (a hideous, hideous green). The walls were painted a bright yellow with white stripes running down vertically.
Your door was painted white. Copper numbers hanging dangerously off the pins stuck to the door. (I better get that fixed soon)
The room seemed so empty, but luxurious. White walls encased you. A heaven. (At least the carpets aren't green)
You drop your bags, waving goodbye to your escort.
Maybe visit the guys next to you?
Tomorrow, you think. There's no hurry to meet anyone.
But maybe, a peek wouldn't hurt?
-----
#002. Hello there, pretty lady.
(Taemin/random)
Your hands graze mine. Large, doe like eyes burned into my soul.
Damn, you're cute.
Such a charming smile, your smile. Yes, smile. I think I quite like that smile.
Fingers pressed lightly against the back of my hand. Your grip tightly, my knuckles turn white.
Oh, how my heart flutters.
My body flies into the air, a swift and graceful moment. Into your arms I go. Falling against you again and again and again.
Poetry in motion baby.
Are you alright? You ask.
Yes. Lie. I think so. Lie. Such a bad girl. What should I have said? No. My damn heart feels like it's about to jump out of my chest. You're such a hottie. Want my phone number?
Or maybe not.
You laugh, that melodious soft sound. I think I'm going to die.
Apologise, you did. You release my hands and I really don't want to let go of you, not yet. No.
You bow once. Don't bow twice. It's not my funeral. (1)
Strange feelings stir within me. I feel my face burning. Oh damn, do I have a fever?
You look at me, those beatuiful, beautiful doe like eyes. Your laugh again. Oh my heart snaps little by little. I let out a sigh.
Hello, you say and greet me. I tell your my name. So you should tell me yours now right?
You laugh.
I wish you would tell me, lie to me: Hello there, pretty lady.
"I'm Tae Min. How about I take you out for dinner tonight?"
Oh, it's close enough.
(1) Bowing twice means you're paying respects to a dead person or ancestor in Korean culture.
-----
#003 Push. Friction. Dance.
(Minho/random)
"I don't get it. It's such a simple equation." You mutter to yourself. It was such a simple simple equation.
After all, it's just sex. Purely body reaction to simple friction.
"What's so great about getting laid?" You ask yourself.
He gazes at your. Incomprehensible emotions laid bare that your complex mind will never understand.
His lips lift in a tiny smirk. You really don't understand him at all, do you?
His long arms reach for yours, and soon you find yourself on the dance floor with him.
You wish he would just reach out, grab you, take you, make you his.
Dirty, dirty thoughts. It's just friction. Nothing but pure friction. Scientific really, but your complex mind will never understand.
He wraps your arms around his neck. Hips gyrating slowly against yours in a lulling movement. It's just friction after all, he said.
His enchanting eyes capture yours in a swift movement, and you feel yourself, your damn equations collapsing withing a nano second.
His face nuzzled into the crook of your neck. Just keep dancing, he leads you on.
Your shouldn't be reacting like this. It's such a simple equation. But you don't understand. Not at all. Your calculations are never wrong. Never.
"It's nothing your complex mind would understand." He whispered huskily. His arms tightened around your waist as he drags you to dark corner. Your arms above your head, the smell of musky sweat, his hips, oh so lovely hips grinding.
It was all you needed. Screw calculations.
Lips smashing against one another.