⚘ ㅤtinashe。

@❀ tinashe k。 He waits for her to come to him, and meets her halfway. Close enough to feel the heat radiating off of her, close enough to be captured by the heavy scent of her body wash. His gaze falls to a stray bead of water that drips from her hair, and rolls down her jaw, before falling to her chest. He, too, has felt that fall, as he drinks in her look, drinks in her essence. Yugyeom’s hand comes up to swipe the pad of his thumb against her jaw, driving up the frame of her face, to properly cup her cheek, and delve his fingers into the damp locks. “You’re like a dream, in a way. Something that .. Someone that your mind conjures up, or tries to. The passion behind your dance, the way you hold yourself eith confidence, even now. And how every time I would ask you a question, or strike up a conversation with you, it ends with me needing to hear more.” Somewhere through his words, his hand has dropped from her face, and his knees bend until he’s set before her. Forehead presses to her belly, hands resting between his thighs as he holds himself there, groaning with how whipped he feels from just a few moments with her. “I want to know what makes you tick, what makes you heated.”

@❁ yugyeom k。 Chocolate spheres scintillate in curiosity, trailing over his body bit by bit in a manner so slow as she begins shamelessly drinking up the image before her. He’s not at all dressed for occassion; she has seen him earlier that day — perhaps in the same attire — though it becomes hard to recall because she’s focused on how well his shirt hugged his slim yet toned figure. And his collarbone — her lower lip is entrapped between her pearly whites as her gaze return to his, just in time for her to catch the one sentence that makes her hair stand up on end. A reverberation of suggestion, a mischevious hint that reflects in her eyes, because she too, has had the image of this man in her head, somehow forever embedded and so, so stubborn to erase. “Why is that?” It comes out hushed, but no less confident, because she takes a step towards him with her hands tucked into her front pockets.

@❀ tinashe k。 His stomach is in an unbelievably tight knot of nerves, hands slipping from his pockets, to his side, fidgeting nonstop. He still has time to grt the hell out of here, to not embarrass himself, but then— Lord. He knows she said his name, and it’s beautiful. He gets this goofy grin on his face, lips pulling up more so on one side than the other, but they meet his eyes nonetheless. “Hey,” His voice doesn’t sound like his own; it’s gruff, and deeper, still warbled with the shaky tone of nerves, but pleasant, nonetheless. “I came here because,” Because why? Why did she have to be in a sports bra, of all things? Her belly is so cute, he wants to nibble on her belly button. “I can’t get you out of my mind.” Her body is glistening, and she smells so wonderful, her hair is a mess, but it’s a perfect mess. She’s a perfect mess.

@❁ yugyeom k。 A girl looks back at her. She's fresh from the shower, glowing skin from being freshly cleansed, though it looks as if she's already finished her routine. She is clothed, however in much more comfortable attire from earlier on in the day with grey, loose joggers and a mere sports bra. She's reaching up, carding fingers through wavy hair, and pulling it to one side. She frowns at the image, because she hasn't washed her hair that day, which means it's much more disheveled, not as clean as the rest of her body. And so she's turning to the side, flipping her head upside down so she could gather her hair at the crown of her head to fix it in a tight, slightly messy bun. Granite spheres are trained on the mirror again before she's making her way to her bed, where she sighs in relaxation, because she's at the comfort of her room once more. Comfort and secure, if it weren't for the sight of a familiar male she met at the bar just hours before. A raised brow, because she wonders how he got in so easily. Perhaps she left her door open. Again. "Yugyeom?"

@❀ tinashe k。 Hair fixed, but still somehow a mess, skinny jeans with a button down on, fitted to perfection, and he’s still nervous as all get out. Preparing for this moment for a long while— does he just .. Walk in? Or ..? He knocked, twice already, to be exact; what more could she want? His hand molds on the room door, and to his surprise, the door clicks, unlocked, and he waltzes in. His fear and fatigue washes away upon merely smelly the feminine scentd wafting around him, and his pupils blow just a tad. “Tinashe?” He muses, his tone more deep than before, more of s purr than anything as he clicks the door shut behind him, and rids himself of his shoes.

@❀ tinashe k。 [] (: