Where Every Scroll is a New Adventure
mmjunsu:
it was funny how things could fall into place so easily; how things could pick up from where they left off, without any thought of the circumstances prior.
(like how he’d shared an uncharacteristically emotional reunion with his sister; and then he was sitting at the kitchen island moments later, stuffing his puffy face with breakfast as she slipped back out into obscurity. don’t mention it to anyone just yet, she’d made him promise, but it seemed like the idea was already obliterated as he burned his tongue on seaweed soup).
and things went back to normal, like always.
maybe he should’ve taken it as a sign, when he walked into the apartment and was greeted with absolute silence— like the calm before the storm, it lulled him into a false sense of security as he kicked off his shoes comfortably and left a trail of his belongings on his way to the rec room.
maybe he should’ve been more cautious when he found a full, unopened bag of shrimp crackers and pepero sticks— a rarity in the kwak household— and it seemed like the stars were all aligned for him when he opened the fridge and his favourite banana milk was stocked on the top shelf.
(ahjumma must’ve gone shopping, was what he had thought, when he should’ve realized: ahjumma had bought him his last meal).
the alignment of the stars were clear now as kwak junsu took a fistful of shrimp crackers as he paused his video game, and the doorknob twisted open to reveal the grim reaper.
junsu could easily recognize the stages of kwak jina’s wrath, but the look she gave him from the threshold as he stared back at her with doe-eyes wide open and mouth agape, was positively lethal.
it felt like an eternity as he wracked his brain for the things he could’ve done wrong, a single cracker from the bunch in his fist falling down into his lap.
(after quickly assessing and reassessing his memory, kwak junsu found that he didn’t know what it was his sister was staring at him like she would kill him for, but after sixteen years of being the youngest, he quickly moved on to his second option: run).
“noona, hold up—”
the shrimp crackers all fell to the floor as kwak junsu tossed the game controller to the side, jumping up onto the couch and stumbling as he tripped over his own lanky legs. he tripped over the edge and quickly shot back up as he hid behind the couch: his only line of defense from kwak jina’s blazing stare.
𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐓𝐇 𝐁𝐄 𝐓𝐎𝐋𝐃, jina has two different type of aggressions. it wasn’t out of norm for one of them to be tickled on the daily. that one didn’t involve the throbbing of a vein against the very shell of her forehead, it didn’t include the rush of adrenaline into her bloodstream nor did it reap of deadly intentions.
no, that one was harmless in comparison to the aggression she felt swelling against her conscience. the one telling her that poor, innocent junsu looked scared to death. that perhaps, he didn’t deserve jina whatever jina had in store for settling whatever had set her off today.
of course her conscience was an idiot.
and jina full-heartedly believed whatever intentions she had in mind were rightfully just. especially when she was mad.
but no, jina wasn’t just mad -- she was pissed.
she, of course, was fair in her approach. far more than she thinks she should have been. maybe she was feeling merciful, or maybe she just enjoyed the way her little brother seemed a second close to shitting himself. she didn’t enjoy scaring him, but the fear in his eyes did give her a different type of high.
for now, she feels every type of emotion welling up within her. remnants of her conversation ( if you could call a screaming match in the middle of the courtyard a ‘conversation’ ) with jihye still fresh on the skin. the tears she had cried a dried up path to where blurred eyeliner and smudged mascara lay. the obviousness of her distress a second contender for the anger that blazed in her eyes was much more prevalent, obvious in the way she stalked into the rec room; fingers pushing the door open further to make her way inside.
“why are you backing up, junnie?” she blinks, voice a notch softer than it should be; coupled by the innocence dripping from her tone and the nickname she hardly uses, jina tilts her head. the venom in her expression says enough to warrant the activation of the fight or flight instinct, this she is sure -- watching his expression react in comparison has jina taking another step closer. “did you do something wrong?”
she takes one more step, fingers reaching out to grab the discarded controller, tinkering with the buttons, a single glance made to the device before her glare returns to him.
“don’t you have something to tell me?” timbre is soft, a false sense of security lulled into her voice as she takes another step closer; grasp tightening against the controller with each step before stopping just short of the couch he hid behind.
if he wanted to run, she’d give him a head start.