Make you Smile [VIXX] - ENG.

3. Prism //TEASER//

Polyhedron with two parallel bases and whose faces are parallelograms.

Transparent prism that has the property of deflecting and breaking down light.

~ * ~

A squeak sounded when the door opened on the couple, a slight ringing bell coming to follow. The bursts of laughter immediately rose to the ears of the two Koreans, combined by female and male voices, sometimes childish. Each sound produced by the clatter of cutlery choked in a stream of new chatter, sometimes full of entrances, sometimes more discreet. Familiar or foreign to them, the different dialects present could have produced only one and the same voice.

The glassy eyes - already anticipating the deserved rest of the night to come - and actually riveted on the wood of the separation arch between the two rooms, the youngest stood still for a minute.

He had seen the color coming from afar, very far from the moment their footsteps had brought them near the building. The agitation, though more moderate than they had ever known, asserted an excessively high presence of clients. As it was obviously also the case for any public place around, tonight, in such a summer period; the ideal to get together with loved ones in the famous French capital, toast at the slightest chance that would be able to hunt, for a few moments, the vagaries of their poor daily life.

Carefully, Wonshik raised his companion's chair a few millimeters to climb the tiny step. Unsurprisingly, Taekwoon remained almost unmoved at the slight jolt felt, leaving the instructions to his companion who closed the door behind them and walked slowly into the vast lobby, which he logically deduced neighbor to the room. main restoration.

Almost yes. Taekwoon had not yet metamorphosed into a Greek statue. Or Korean, go tell. Something had caught the eye of the silvery: the poor armrests of the wheelchair getting caught in a nervous torture, prisoners of the wringing fingers of his hyung. 

- Taek...

The tattooed's heart sank. He could not see the expression of his face from where he was positioned, but Wonshik would have cut his hand so that his elder's features clearly had to be strained again as the crowd approached. He was already anticipating the eyes centered on him. On them. His knuckles turning white could only testify.

- You will hurt yourself if you continue to grip it like this.

Even if the victims of this aggression were among other things only these poor armrests.

- Woonie, stop...

Insistent, but preferring to opt for a more subtle attempt, the youngest of them briefly defeated his grip around the handles, delicately ruffling the raven mop of his long fingers. But a jolt of the same head made him stop his gesture.

- Let it go, said the thin voice dryly.

Okay...

With a weary movement, Wonshik contented himself with respecting the umpteenth rejection that could not be more explicit of his eldest, and took over the chair of this one.

A simple message, clear, clear and precise: the physical contacts were, according to what he had obviously anticipated, still not welcome. Not even a touch, a tiny and discreet gesture simply signaling his presence reassuringly, and as long as they were still distanced from any other human presence.

Nothing. Absolutely nothing. As usual.

Then the silvery continued to engulf silently this unpleasant feeling of frustration. His heels slammed against the floor at each step, hesitant. Their echo disappears very quickly in the noise of the discussions animating the second play. A few times, his masculine face turned away from the arch, temporarily giving up the attention he paid to his vis-à-vis and to the source of the effervescence that was likely to be much more problematic than he has predicted it. Instead, he observed the walls painted with the hue of sand around him, preferring to let himself be transported back in time by the decorations that look like a traditional Asian stall, to say the least original and supported by a certain contemporary flurry.