۪۫❁ཻུ۪۪ ;十三

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» [ ❁ཻུ۪۪ ʄƖơῳɛཞ ცơყ ; episode thirteen ] «
-ˋˏ ༻ subtle attraction ༺ ˎˊ-



          » [ ❁ཻུ۪۪ ʄƖơῳɛཞ ცơყ ; episode thirteen ] «                                 -ˋˏ ༻ subtle attraction ༺ ˎˊ-

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The flower boy turned to his hyung. "I'm not attracted or infatuated by Noona," he
said in a grumble, "And I don't stalk her. I'm not weird like you."
Yeo-wool broke into a small smile, his head lowering gently as a chuckle
erupted from his lips.
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» [ author-nim ] «

"I mean, I want to be honest with my feelings but I don't know if they be reciprocated. You know, Han?"

Yeo-wool tilted his head, furrowing his eyebrows, sighing a heave in pure annoyance. "Are you even listening to me, Han? I'm going through a existential crisis right here!"

Han-sung bit his succulent bottom lip, deep in thought. His arms were wrapped securely around the red wooden pillar, eyes furiously scanning the overlook of the Seon Moon, paying little to no heed what the pretty boy's lips uttered.

Yeo-wool scowled at the ignorance, hitting his friend with the papery fan. The younger yelped in surprise, pouting cutely as he rubbed his injured arm. "That hurt Hyung," he whined childly, before retiring his intent stare into the courtyard.

The pretty boy grumbled gently, unravelling his fan gracefully. "So what do you think," Yeo-wool said, flapping the item furiously before him, cocking an eyebrow at the boy.

Han-sung hummed softly in question, a tad of uncertainty lingering on his lip. "Are we talking about a girl from the village," he questioned monotonously, tapping his slender fingers against the pillar. However, the length of wait for Yeo-wool's response made Han-sung turn to face his Hyung in confusion.

"It is a girl, right Hyung?"

Yeo-wool nodded gently, his lips in a tight smile. "Yes, of course," he mumbled incoherently, "But you understand where I'm getting at. You'll have to worry about these things too, Han. After all, you need to keep the Suk line alive. Honestly it would be wise to start poking around for that lady."

Han-sung grumbled lowly, returning to watching the courtyard. "You're starting to sound like my grandfather, Hyung."

"He's not wrong either," Yeo-wool added, adjusting his leaning position on the barriers that decked the upper balconies. "A wife is needed to carry on the bloodline; that's basic science, you know."

The youngest Hwarang tsked quietly, sending his Hyung a glare. "I'm not a pabo," he mumbled, "I know how things work."

Yeo-wool chuckled gently tilting his head in intrigue at the flower boy. Han-sung bit his lip with vigor, his gaze still attached to the happenings before him. Carefully, Yeo-wool followed the invisible line of Han's attention, reaching deep into the inner courtyard.

There y/n sat peacefully, absorbed with a book as the oncoming soft breeze ruffled her short cinnamon hair. A few seconds later, Ah-ro gleefully came prancing in, a large smile plastered on her lips and took the seat next to her Unnie. The two began to carry a conversation, unable to be heard by the flower boys; however it must've been humorous for y/n's lips broke into a large, pretty grin.

"Ah," Yeo-wool mumbled in answer, cocking an eyebrow at the youngest, "It seems you already have your eyes set on that lady. You're infatuated by y/n."

That brought Han-sung out of his daydreamy stupor, his face screwing into a frown as he watched the two girls. "I am not," he grumbled.

The elder chuckled softly. "You're completely smitten by her," he pointed out clearly, "This isn't even a subtle attraction either, Han. It's like you're stalking her."

The flower boy turned to his hyung. "I'm not attracted or infatuated by Noona," he said in a grumble, "And I don't stalk her. I'm not weird like you."

Yeo-wool broke into a small smile, his head lowering gently as a chuckle erupted from his lips. "You're not a good liar either," he mumbled, sending the youngest a glance, "y/n might fall for them but definitely not me."

Han-sung heaved a long sigh, resting the side of his face against the wooden pillar as if he hadn't heard the elder. "Do you think Noona is betrothed?" He asked aloud.

Yeo-wool puffed his cheeks in a huff, leaning more dependently on the railing. "It's hard to say," he mumbled in reply, "Families tend to betroth their daughters to rich, successful true bones at an early age. And seeing how fairly attractive our poetry teacher is, there is no doubt."

He exhaled loudly. "You really like her, Han?"

The youngest paused momentarily before shaking his head. "No Hyung," Han-sung muttered almost inaudibly, "She's just a nice person to hang around with."

Yeo-wool tilted his head, cocking an eyebrow slightly. "Funny, I was going to offer my help in your love crusade," he said, straightening himself and stretching, "Ah well. My talents would be wasted on a girl you don't even love."

Han-sung frowned softly, not breaking contact with the y/n's figure in the distance. This made Yeo-wool chuckle as he clapped the younger's back. "Good look, Han. And have fun stalking her!"


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