wen junhui, seventeen's mother figure, 1/4 of the performance unit, #chinaline, aspiring actor, third good looking ninenty-six, a wushu-warrior, and blood type b.
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naeiun sent: “No, we can’t buy five hundred pugs.”
( 俊 ) — Exasperated with having to convince the older one even more, Jun darted a dispirited star to the distance. “Noona, I’m sure we can! I’ll pay for the three hundred and you could pay the rest!”
“You’re sad. Don’t lie to me. I see the pouty thing you do.”
( 俊 ) — Slender and tanned digits raised its way to rub Junhui’s bloodshoot eyes. “Hansol-ah, go freshen up, it’s nothing,” a hand swung towards the younger one’s shoulder.
( 俊 ) — With a wandering gaze, his lips gently parted from each other, gaped. He heard of Dongdaemun and its never-sleeping midnight market. Eagerly curious, Junhui and Nayeon made their way to the aforementioned district.
“BUDDY SYSTEM IS IMPORTANT, YOU MIGHT GET LOST! NOW GIMME YOUR HAND.”
A light smile broke upon his face, dangling his lips into a crooked one. Holding his hand out, palms open, he intently held the female’s glance. “Is that noona’s excuse just to hold my hand?”
“I don’t have a favorite dynasty, Junhui-ah,” She purses her lips, “There are too many dynasties that fascinate me.” That I’ve lived through is what she wanted to say, though, it would create an awkward situation.
( 俊 ) — It was understandable, the older woman’s counter. The Chinese history has had its fair share of vibrant eras.
“But.. if I may ask, what’s your least favourite?” the
translated Korean running through his head twice in
a repetitious loop. “Oh, did I say that right?”
Luhan glanced up from his coffee, a curious look on his face. It wasn’t often that he heard Chinese, especially not profanity as his parents hadn’t condoned swearing in their household. “Are you having some trouble?” He asked the stranger, figuring there was no other reason he would have said something like that out of the blue.
( 俊 ) — Once again, he was greeted by the unfamiliar language, he decided to speak in his own mother tongue “Excuse me, do you speak Mandarin?” and whilst waiting for the reply, a shaky gaze scanned the open and sun-soaked corner.
“Yeah! I recall– it was
one of the greatest eras of orderly government and social stability in human history.” she states confidently with a gentle smile.
( 俊 ) — “Yeah, great prosperity, actually,” the centerized topic brought a discreet smile upon his lips. His motherland was greatly missed, “Is it your favourite dynasty, noona?”
PAUSING THE game that had captivated her attention on her hand-held device she now looked up, meeting the gaze that had been unknowingly on her. “Aw, really? You think so?” She couldn’t hold back a grin from the compliment, a gummy smile starting to shine through. “You’re really handsome too, sunbae!”
( 俊 ) — Her familiar rounded visage had caught his attention during the survival show, SIXTEEN. Given the chance to approach her, he straightened his posture, a sheepish smile still firm on his lips, “’Sunbae’?” he slightly leaned in, inquiring,
“Ah, me! Oh!” the sudden realization etched upon
his face. “I’m a fan!”
( 俊 ) — Frustration welled over the tip of his tongue, eyebrows furrowed upon his ebony-coloured pools. Slipping into a much more comfortable language, “什么他妈的..” only to be caught by a pair of eyes that seemingly gazed at him moments after the vulgar profanity slipped from his lips.
