Characters/Ship: PRISTIN Eunwoo/Jieqiong Tags: canon compliant (i think) Permission to Remix: Yes -
“Is it not the least bit pathetic to have liked all her Instagram posts for all these years,” Siyeon postulated openly. Eunwoo wasn’t the least bit concerned about it, touching up her lip gloss with a compact mirror in her other hand, and admiring her mascara while she was at it.
“I’m not offended she didn’t like mine back, if that’s what you’re saying.” She closed the mirror with a satisfying click.
Siyeon sighed. “If that’s what you want.”
There was kind of an unwritten rule between the seven of them that met up the most often that they’d avoid mentioning the group for as long as possible out of the desire to move on, and talk about bigger and better things. The problem was that there weren’t really too many topics of that kind. And some of them had what felt like an inherent, subconscious want to bring up girls who weren’t even there, to pretend they were still a unit, still active, still alive, to their own detriment.
The waitress brought Eunwoo the limoncello spritz she’d ordered and she didn’t hesitate before taking a sip. “I hate this,” she said, making a face. Siyeon took it out of her hands.
“I’m just worried about you,” Siyeon said. The sunlight, angled at that time of day, burned a triangle of skin on her ankle.
Eunwoo groaned. “Please don’t make me feel pathetic, Siyeon-ah.”
“It’s been an adjustment for all of us,” Siyeon said. All of them were programmed to grind the only way they knew how, and the reality of how much harder it was to print money as an individual was so tough to swallow. Siyeon mostly oscillated between pretending she just wanted to spend time with her family and accepting whatever two-day job her agency offered out of false hopes that it would deliver some cash.
Objectively, Jieqiong was the only one who made it on her own. Siyeon remembered seeing her for the first time in years and thinking about how much she hadn’t changed - it was everything else around her that had. Eunwoo couldn’t make it that night, a prior committment holding her back. (“I want to be there,” she’d whined over the phone to Gyeongwon, a conversation she relayed to the rest of them at dinner. “But I have to be at this influencer event.”)
The last time Eunwoo had seen Jieqiong she’d invited her over to her Seoul apartment, just to show her what it was like. Jieqiong had marveled at the modern decor and counters covered with sponsorship make-up samples before they watched the last half of a TV drama episode on air from Eunwoo’s bed. “Just like old times,” Jieqiong said, her head resting on Eunwoo’s collarbone. “Except your new mattress is king sized.” She laughed. Eunwoo resisted the urge to kiss her. Then four hours later she was at the Incheon airport, ready to go back to Shanghai.
“It will never be like old times again,” Siyeon cautioned. “Do you realize that?”
Eunwoo let the facade down for a second, her face dropping from its careless smile. “And what am I supposed to do about it?”
[FILL] your love your love your love
Tags: canon compliant (i think)
Permission to Remix: Yes
-
“Is it not the least bit pathetic to have liked all her Instagram posts for all these years,” Siyeon postulated openly. Eunwoo wasn’t the least bit concerned about it, touching up her lip gloss with a compact mirror in her other hand, and admiring her mascara while she was at it.
“I’m not offended she didn’t like mine back, if that’s what you’re saying.” She closed the mirror with a satisfying click.
Siyeon sighed. “If that’s what you want.”
There was kind of an unwritten rule between the seven of them that met up the most often that they’d avoid mentioning the group for as long as possible out of the desire to move on, and talk about bigger and better things. The problem was that there weren’t really too many topics of that kind. And some of them had what felt like an inherent, subconscious want to bring up girls who weren’t even there, to pretend they were still a unit, still active, still alive, to their own detriment.
The waitress brought Eunwoo the limoncello spritz she’d ordered and she didn’t hesitate before taking a sip. “I hate this,” she said, making a face. Siyeon took it out of her hands.
“I’m just worried about you,” Siyeon said. The sunlight, angled at that time of day, burned a triangle of skin on her ankle.
Eunwoo groaned. “Please don’t make me feel pathetic, Siyeon-ah.”
“It’s been an adjustment for all of us,” Siyeon said. All of them were programmed to grind the only way they knew how, and the reality of how much harder it was to print money as an individual was so tough to swallow. Siyeon mostly oscillated between pretending she just wanted to spend time with her family and accepting whatever two-day job her agency offered out of false hopes that it would deliver some cash.
Objectively, Jieqiong was the only one who made it on her own. Siyeon remembered seeing her for the first time in years and thinking about how much she hadn’t changed - it was everything else around her that had. Eunwoo couldn’t make it that night, a prior committment holding her back. (“I want to be there,” she’d whined over the phone to Gyeongwon, a conversation she relayed to the rest of them at dinner. “But I have to be at this influencer event.”)
The last time Eunwoo had seen Jieqiong she’d invited her over to her Seoul apartment, just to show her what it was like. Jieqiong had marveled at the modern decor and counters covered with sponsorship make-up samples before they watched the last half of a TV drama episode on air from Eunwoo’s bed. “Just like old times,” Jieqiong said, her head resting on Eunwoo’s collarbone. “Except your new mattress is king sized.” She laughed. Eunwoo resisted the urge to kiss her. Then four hours later she was at the Incheon airport, ready to go back to Shanghai.
“It will never be like old times again,” Siyeon cautioned. “Do you realize that?”
Eunwoo let the facade down for a second, her face dropping from its careless smile. “And what am I supposed to do about it?”