Beautiful Images ::VHope::

Rehab

:: Amy Winehouse - Rehab ::

This is some fluffy soft core... you guys deserve an angst break

HoSeok and I have been dating for six months now. He has a dorm with NamJoon again as they begin their third semester. Tonight, however, he sleeps at my house.

I lay on my stomach in bed, my bare back exposed to the warm air. HoSeok stands over me, a foot to each side of my legs. He holds his camera to his face, snapping pictures. I can only hear the shutter of the camera. The bed creaks as he moves, another shutter.

"You're so beautiful." He says softly, taking another picture. "I don't think you understand." I laugh, hiding my face.

"Will you marry me?" He asks, and I know that he isn't being serious. I think for a moment, answering him with honesty.

"Yes-yes." I say. He pauses for a moment, lowering himself down to look into my eyes.

"In the future? You would?" He asks. I search his disbelieving eyes. I nod. A smile breaks out on his face. "Can we go on a date?"

"It's-It's nine." I say, pouting.

"We can go to a bar?" He suggests, sighing dramatically. "Oh! We can go to karaoke!"

"No-no." I shake my head, sitting up. "I-I-I don't sing."

"You don't have to sing, sugar!" HoSeok adds a fake southern accent. It doesn't mix with his hints of a Korean accent, and I laugh at him. "I'll do all the singing."

"Is-is that really what you want-want-want to do?" I ask, and he nods excitedly. He folds his hand under his chin, fluttering his eyelashes. I groan, reluctantly agreeing to take him out. We get dressed, HoSeok dancing around while we do.

If someone were to describe the way HoSeok looks, it would be easy to say he's beautiful. But honestly, he's more than that. He's ethereal. He's soft. His soul is delicate on the inside, and he almost breaks so easily. You can hurt his feelings by simply looking at him. That's not to say he isn't tough as fucking hell. He's walked a straight line through hell for almost two years. He endured the heat alone, and still came out smiling on the other side. His emotions are high, and his intentions are always good. All of that strength projects out into rays of sun, making the boy glow. He makes people look on the street, but I'm not sure that he knows it.

He fluffs his hair in the mirror, his slim figure outlined in a yellow bomber jacket. I watch him inspect his appearance in the mirror, frowning at himself.

"Do I look okay?" He asks. I recognize his tone, and know that doubt is seeping into his mind. I hug him, and I plant a kiss in his hair.

"You-you look ama-amazing."

HoSeok uses his fake ID to get into the bar. We sit at a table along the left wall. The room is dimly lit except for the stage; smoke from marijuana and tobacco fills the room. I'm out of my element in situations like this, but HoSeok seems comfortable. He doesn't seem phased by the smell of drugs, and actually breathes the fumes deeply.

"Fuck, I miss partying." He says, shaking off his jacket. "I'm so dominant now." He winks at me, and I laugh.

"You-you mean do-domestic-domesticated." I laugh harder as he frowns.

"Isn't that what I said? Wait." He thinks for a second. Muttering to himself in Korean. "Oh, shit!" He bursts out in laughter.

"Domesticated. I am not a very dominant person." I shake my head at him. The host comes out onto the stage, announcing a few things before asking who wants to go first. A lady towards the front waves her arms. She isn't an awful singer, but it was a definite waste of 3 minutes of my life. HoSeok chugs down a Long Island Iced Tea.