drabbling plotless soseob for marge
"compatable: all i keep getting is soyeon stalking yoseob behind a fish tank"
"Yoseobie," she calls, stopping him with a half-heartedly outstretched arm just as he's about to veer around the corner into his dressing room. He comes to a sudden halt, feet flustered by the one-track "need water/sleep/couch" momentum they'd built up, and behind him Doojoon darts a curious look at her before disappearing. Yoseob stays, blinks, and processes. "Oh, Soyeon-noona. Your eyes are huge today."
"Yours is smudged," she notices, already reaching, finger wetted with spit.
It seems to take effort to stay still.
"Good job today," she says, poking at his eye with her nail. It's got a plastic cupcake glued on though, which should be padding enough, she figures, plus he's a boy--poke-proof, unless you're a wuss. Which she doesn't think he is. Stupid and childlike at times, yeah, but not a wuss.
"All done," she picks with the back of her nail at the corner of his left eyelid one last time before crossing her arms. "They really painted your face today."
"Yeah," he says lamely. "I think I'm going to transition into a sexier look."
"What's your current look again?"
"Cute." And it's cute that he can't say it without looking 100% unembarrassed. He must've had enough practice.
"Well." She doesn't really have an ending in mind. "I'm not too excited about the guys in eyeliner trend."
Yoseob does that exaggerated laugh that he usually reserves for the camera. It must've developed into a habit, a soon-to-be mannerism. Scary how that happens, Soyeon tries not to think, and he's so young! Just by a few years, but that face doesn't help either. Her mind gets ahead of herself sometimes. He's saying, "Are you scared of competition?" which gets something of a scoff out of her because that's pretty ridiculous.
"I welcome the competition," she shrugs. "I like looking at pretty boys, too. But you can be pretty and natural at the same time."
Yoseob laughs again, more normally this time. "You still haven't shown me your 'fresh face.'"
"You're looking at it."
"C'mon! Where's your confidence?"
She mulls it over. "Maybe someday. When we're closer."
In truth, she is pretty confident about her face, but it's not, you know, like a handout. You have to earn your right to look at that sort of naked beauty. It doesn't come for free. Soyeon for one has never been a cheap date. And what they're doing right now, this, is the definition of small talk. Yang Yoseob doesn't have a chance in North Korea at ever bearing witness to Park Soyeon's washed and cucumbered bedtime face.
Even if she doesn't look it, Soyeon's very good at small talk. Yoseob, on the other hand, could do with some practice. And maybe that's why she stopped him in the first place. She could've been in a charitable mood.
"Unnie," Jiyeon says, kicking her legs against the mattress. "Do you have a crush on that big baby?"
"What?"
"You've mentioned him like five times already tonight."
"When did--" and then she counts in her head, and oh man. She's going to jail for this. He was born in the NINETIES.
Ninety. Still!
"Yoseobie," she calls, stopping him with a half-heartedly outstretched arm just as he's about to veer around the corner into his dressing room. He comes to a sudden halt, feet flustered by the one-track "need water/sleep/couch" momentum they'd built up, and behind him Doojoon darts a curious look at her before disappearing. Yoseob stays, blinks, and processes. "Oh, Soyeon-noona. Your eyes are huge today."
"Yours is smudged," she notices, already reaching, finger wetted with spit.
It seems to take effort to stay still.
"Good job today," she says, poking at his eye with her nail. It's got a plastic cupcake glued on though, which should be padding enough, she figures, plus he's a boy--poke-proof, unless you're a wuss. Which she doesn't think he is. Stupid and childlike at times, yeah, but not a wuss.
"All done," she picks with the back of her nail at the corner of his left eyelid one last time before crossing her arms. "They really painted your face today."
"Yeah," he says lamely. "I think I'm going to transition into a sexier look."
"What's your current look again?"
"Cute." And it's cute that he can't say it without looking 100% unembarrassed. He must've had enough practice.
"Well." She doesn't really have an ending in mind. "I'm not too excited about the guys in eyeliner trend."
Yoseob does that exaggerated laugh that he usually reserves for the camera. It must've developed into a habit, a soon-to-be mannerism. Scary how that happens, Soyeon tries not to think, and he's so young! Just by a few years, but that face doesn't help either. Her mind gets ahead of herself sometimes. He's saying, "Are you scared of competition?" which gets something of a scoff out of her because that's pretty ridiculous.
"I welcome the competition," she shrugs. "I like looking at pretty boys, too. But you can be pretty and natural at the same time."
Yoseob laughs again, more normally this time. "You still haven't shown me your 'fresh face.'"
"You're looking at it."
"C'mon! Where's your confidence?"
She mulls it over. "Maybe someday. When we're closer."
In truth, she is pretty confident about her face, but it's not, you know, like a handout. You have to earn your right to look at that sort of naked beauty. It doesn't come for free. Soyeon for one has never been a cheap date. And what they're doing right now, this, is the definition of small talk. Yang Yoseob doesn't have a chance in North Korea at ever bearing witness to Park Soyeon's washed and cucumbered bedtime face.
Even if she doesn't look it, Soyeon's very good at small talk. Yoseob, on the other hand, could do with some practice. And maybe that's why she stopped him in the first place. She could've been in a charitable mood.
"Unnie," Jiyeon says, kicking her legs against the mattress. "Do you have a crush on that big baby?"
"What?"
"You've mentioned him like five times already tonight."
"When did--" and then she counts in her head, and oh man. She's going to jail for this. He was born in the NINETIES.
Ninety. Still!