In the debate world, there are five unspoken rules. The first four are trivial; simple social laws that every sane person would understand.
But the last one. Now that's something.
Rule Number Five: Never, ever, under any circumstances, date your d...
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today's theme: rejuvination
"Please, spare my life. I'll do anything."
"Shh, it's okay, it's okay. It'll be over soon."
"I'm begging you, don't do this to me. I still have so much to live for, and think about how heartbroken my loved ones will be when they hear about this."
Jisung giggled and clipped the last of a set of sparkly butterfly clips onto Minho's hair, before topping it off with a small tiara.
Minho stood there, trying to hide his face behind a baguette they had bought at the last stand. Maybe if he smashed his head hard enough into the bread, he'd forget all about this travesty.
He had found it odd when Jisung squealed and got all excited over a simple homemade accessories booth, but he let him drag him over there, thinking that it was for his mom. Or some other female relative.
He was never ignoring his stupid gut ever again.
"Perfect." the boy stepped back and clapped his hands, delighted at the sight in front of him.
"I can't believe I've been reduced to this."
"You look amazing, Princess." Jisung gave a thumbs up to him and the vendor, who was trying her best not to laugh.
Minho sighed, continuing to hit his forehead with the baguette. "You've had your fun, and you even took a damn picture, now take it off of me."
"But I worked so hard on it," the younger boy whined. "What is art if it's not being showed to the world?"
"Off. now."
"But—"
"I'm not leaving this tent unless this comes off of me, and you'll have to walk to the speed rail station alone."
They ended up leaving with the accessories in Jisung's pocket.
"Where to next?" Jisung hummed to the tune the local band was playing as he skipped ahead.
The two of them had almost made it to the end of the market. As they eventually found out, this place was huge; they had just reached a majority of the booths after some hours of shopping, strolling, and sampling. There was a vendor for almost everything imaginable: freshly picked produce, hand sewn clothes and blankets, even electronics.
Gaslamp may have been the hillbilly town of the bunch, but damn, it was a grandeur hillbilly town alright.
Minho shifted the weight of their bags under his hands. "You're still going to buy more stuff? I can only fit so many things into my bike compartments, you know."
"I don't think I even bought that much stuff. Fruit jam, homemade butter, some cheeses, and other things here and there, that doesn't take up much."
