Against Time | k.th. ✔

二十一 : apples and oranges

Although Yeseul had merely mumbled it to herself, Taehyung's interest was piqued— him whisking his line of sight abruptly in her direction could not mean anything else. His eyebrows furrowed eventually as he began to slink towards her. The man must be reckoning of himself as a subtle mover, the alleged misconception was being substantiated well-enough by the fixated look that had a tinge of smugness on it.

If laughing in someone's face was not considered rude, Yeseul would have set free the otherwise smothered, consistently beleaguering giggles of hers long back. But who would dare to annoy this young man who hailed from the times where the language of fun must differ a fair amount from hers? What if, the walking etiquette machine suddenly broke down on witnessing the slightest of misdemeanor on her part?

"Oh no, trouble for sure attracts me more than men." Yeseul deadpanned as she stared blankly into the wall in front of her, only for Taehyung to pop into her vision out of nowhere.

She flinched— as expected— although Taehyung's reciprocation of her impulsive action was certainly not something Yeseul had looked forward to. She arched one of her brows resultingly, out of amusement, waiting for the man to initiate the conversation that had been turning exponentially awkward with time— even more than it potentially could have been.

Yeseul let out a soundless, "What?" when Taehyung would not stop boring into her head, replying to which he thought had been impending for a long time anyway.

And so, he started, "Something's different about you," roving his eyes up and down her seated figure, which Yeseul had indeed taken as an offensive gesture, "you don't look as strange as before."

She did not know what to object to anymore.

"That's one unique way of complimenting a person, I'll give you that. It's my hair by the way, I dyed them black." Yeseul's aloof response would have provided any ongoing parley with an inevitable dead-end, but Taehyung was effortlessly a master in tackling every sort of those. He had justified himself as such repeatedly.

"Makes me wonder who except for someone with magical powers can change their appearance overnight. Give me a minute— Oh wait, no one. Are you sure that you're a human and this is not some kind of a magical world? Because I'm very much convinced that it is." Taehyung blurted out mindlessly— as his impassive expression suggested— and adjusted himself comfortably on the sofa that he was now sharing with Yeseul, to analyse the undoubtedly otherworldly object that kept on intriguing him.

"What's that window, anyway? You've yet to tell me." Beckoning at the television for the hundredth time, Taehyung quizzed.

"That's not a window, Taehyung," Yeseul chortled, shifting herself accordingly to face the addressed man, "it's a TV. You watch things on it. Uhm, how do I explain..."

"You have cinema halls back at your place, right? Think of it as a miniature cinema hall, that's the purpose it serves. And all these guns and shit, they're just pretending to use them. They're not actually killing people with them. It's a movie after all, bet you've seen one of those. You're a liar if you deny." Yeseul cast a roguish side-glance at Taehyung, though too early since the lad was still lost deep in the abyss of words that the female had unleashed at him.