Meridian ◈ Seungjin

11 ◈ Ebb and Flow

Hyunjin prodded at the disgusting cafeteria food with a reluctant nail, his head lulling into the palm of his hand as he fiddled with the supposedly consumable item of 'delicious' taste and mouthwatering aroma. Only, the unbearable taste was more akin to eating a slab of overcooked mud sprinkled in drywall plaster and the aroma was a poor attempt at culinary masterpiece staunchly gone wrong as it congealed into a wobbly gelatin. He poked it again, grease spreading under his fingertip as his appetite diminished to a small blip in the corner of the universe, never to be found by mortal man again. Possibly by immortal tongue, or cosmic ability, but not mortal man. Hyunjin nudged it, the omniscient mystery food jiggling as he pinched a thin strip of crumbling bread collapsing with the pressure, Is... Is this pizza?

Even the lunch tray beneath seemed to turn it's nose up at the new poison invented for those with weak stomachs; Cyanide and arsenic couldn't begin to compare.

Minho leaned over from his spot across the lunch table, the skin on his nose wrinkling into a disgusted form at the glob placed pitiful on the plate. As if he had seen the worst crimes committed, as if the pizza (?) devoted itself to seeing the end of the times, as if he himself were responsible for inexcusable atrocities a normal mind wouldn't be able to warp their consciousness into accepting, Minho stared at the food. His gaze grew vacant, distant, retreating farther back into the welcoming shelter of his mind. A curious hand reached across and prodded the cafeteria food, eventually picking the slice off the tray to take a nibble out of the side since Hyunjin hadn't made any gesture to imply he was going to be eating it. His friend's face didn't scrunch in disgust, or spit the slice back out, to his surprise it stretched into what looked like relief. However, Minho still set it down and whipped his head to the other as if to ask, Is that pizza?

Hyunjin shrugged in response to the question. A shoulder brushed lightly against his as a laugh was stifled behind a half serious hand, Jeongin next to him trying not to draw any attention to himself or the other two's reactions to the horrible cafeteria food with his playful snickers, his other side beginning to lean onto the unusually silent Chan beside him. Hyunjin bumped his shoulder into the younger to tell him to quit ramming into him but the only reaction he received was a slightly harder snort. Despite the recent happenings weighing heavy on his mind and bouldering across his heart, Hyunjin managed to find a small smile pulling his lips up at their impish behavior. Again, his hand came to prod the slice now void of a bite sized chunk in it's side instead of at the end. Poor pizza. At least the taste isn't as bad as the appearance.

The taste isn't bad to him.

"Minho."

The mentioned whipped around at the demure voice, an immediate recognition flooding over every inch of his being as a fond grin made itself present. Hyunjin followed his line of sight to the person behind Minho, gaze raking over a familiar form and placing him as someone in his and Jeongin's year, but them being unknown to him beyond that basic point of recognition. That person wasn't short, but he was small. He didn't have an unneeded air of confidence, an unwavering quell to opposition, warning gaining aggressors of the fate they would soon meet should they run into the blood falling like dead bullet shells. He didn't possess it. Instead, he wasn't shy, but he did seem rather uncomfortable standing still in that spot as he was observed by the uncharacteristically cautious eyes. His weight shifted back and forth, his arms crossed over his chest to shield himself, his heel dug at a loose wrapper on the floor.

Most of all, he had an odd smell to him. It wasn't the tempting sage aroma of Seungmin, but it was like the sweet scent of freshly cooked cinnamon bun cooling off, it's warm sugar glaze glimmering with the lanterns acting as showlights above the delicious treat. He was convinced, if his skin didn't crawl with the thought of blood dripping from his fangs, if he didn't resent the ecstasy infecting his senses while he was washing blood from under his fingernails, if he didn't care if a living creature died at his hands, that smell would tempt him to become a monster he hated. And it wasn't just those two. The entire room, the entire cafeteria, the entire school, filled with perfumes mingling and colliding with one another whenever he wasn't paying attention to the world around him. Promptly, and as subtly as Hyunjin could, his hand rubbed at his twitching nose as he sniveled and brought his conscious back to reality.