Bulletproof ain't my type

Dinner&Delirium

⬆️Here's a doodle of our badass heroine. I had to amputate her hand from the wrist down which is something I want you to dismiss as defective sketching skills. I also hope her nose is visible because I swear it's there. You can see that she's not wearing a lot of makeup, even with Yoong's drastic observations in the previous chp. Which goes with my theory that she doesn't wear makeup on a regular (Typical Tomboy). It's not a very precise sketch, and you can imagine her however you like. I just wanted to share my fantasy with you because I am #GayForFaFengh.

Six salad platings. I carried four and left two for Taehyung to bring to the terrace. He had fished out some ancient looking platters from god-knows-where in the kitchen earlier. But we couldn't use them because they wouldn't be enough. He pulled his lips to one side and stared at the available dishes in contemplation for a full minute before deciding to go with an alternate arrangement. One large oval dirty white, one medium hexagonal royal blue, then a large oval dirty white, a medium hexagonal royal blue...

It didn't look half bad (It looked good. Better) and he earned a kiss on the cheek from Jiwoo Noona for his efforts. Well, if his antics are cute to even me, he must look downright adorable to women. Not surprisingly, he flushed down to his neck and to the tips of his ears. I looked away with half a concealed smirk on my face. Jungkook was lugging around a huge ass stereo. He went and stood behind Jieun, waiting for her to turn around so he could ask where to put it. Sweet Jieun, shorter than both her siblings and a mix of both their personalities. A sparkly deep red jacket over a leather skirt. Bobbed hair, ugs on her feet. If Hope and Noona were a couple in another universe, she would be their love child. Jieun was in the act of removing strings of fairy lights from boxes and took a startled step back when she finally turned around. I don't blame her. With the way he held it angled down from his shoulders, he could effortlessly poke someone's eye out. 

          Taehyung told me to hold setting up the table because they needed to put up the lights first. He climbed on the table along with Fengh and they worked with near zero exchange of words. Tae is the quietest when he's concentrating. Fengh had taken off her shoes without being told to. Manners, really? She raised her arms while securing the beams and her top was riding up to further expose her mostly exposed self. I looked away. 

Shameless brat. 

I watched Jungkook and Jimin along with three of the girls debating what track to play. There had been a little friction earlier on between the groups. Feminists seldom get along with gentlemen. Even Namjoon's expert leadership skills could not make them see reason. 

'Cut the chivalry bullshit! Just because I'm a girl you think that I can't pick up one measly basket of bread? What a chauvinistic pig!'

There are in life, moments when you can do nothing else but sigh.

Acceptance of fate.

"YAH! KIM NAMJOON YOU BLOODY RASCAL! GET YOUR HEAD DOWN FROM THE CLOUDS AND STOP KILLING PEOPLE FOR A MINUTE! Of all the bloody ways to die and all he does is give a little push to tip a mountain over my head. I knew I shouldn't have forgone my morning prayers. Everyday spent with you is a day deducted FrOm mY LIfE YOU HEAR ME?!", and on and on and on.

I sighed, not even bothering turning around to acknowledge the commotion. It's an everyday thing.

     Nara was already seated. Head down and cheek pressed against the table, blinking slowly as if to complete a formality. I didn't need to ask anyone to figure that she was ill. And all the way to the end of the table was Namjoon, looking more ill than she ever did. I frowned slightly as to what could suddenly have wrung him dry but then I caught the smug looks on Hoseok and Jimin's faces. I looked at Nara again. A glossy head of raven hair, head turned the other way, dressed in dark jeans and a jacket way too casual for the event. Then Jungkook calls and compliments the jacket. Placing the napkins, Seokjin snickers and I get it. Nara looks genuinely confused. So adorably lost that I have to purse my lips and look away. Namjoon's eyes are fleeting. He gulps visibly, adams apple bobbing up and down. His eyes never stay in one place, dashing from the nearest object to the farthest then zigzag like a pursued rabbit, so fast that I feared his eyeballs would get stuck while accidentally facing each other and he would be disabled for life.