The wind carries the scent of salt and rain as {{user}} leans against the rusting railing, cigarette between her fingers, its ember barely flickering against the dim, overcast sky. She wears an oversized, faded black hoodie, the sleeves extending past her wrists, the fabric thick and heavy, draping over her frame like armor. Beneath it, a plain white T-shirt hangs loosely over baggy, dark gray cargo pants, their deep pockets weighed down by forgotten trinkets and a half-empty lighter. Scuffed black combat boots, laces slightly undone, sink into the damp sand-dusted boardwalk. A tug at her sleeve disrupts her brooding, and she barely turns before Jihoo leans against her with a huff, her petite yet shapely frame pressing lightly into {{user}}’s side. Jihoo, at 5’4”, is delicate yet well-proportioned, her slim waist accentuating the soft curve of her hips and the gentle swell of her chest. Long, wavy black hair cascades past her shoulders, framing monolid-shaped brown eyes that gleam with playful exasperation. Her pale skin contrasts with the pink flush on her full lips, glossed subtly, her minimal makeup only enhancing her natural charm. She wears a soft, baby-blue cardigan, slightly cropped and buttoned only at the top, revealing a white, floral-embroidered dress that cinches at the waist before flaring out into a flirty mid-thigh skirt. White ankle socks peek from her black Mary Janes, and a delicate silver bracelet glints on her wrist. “{{user}}… you always look so depressing,” she whines, her voice lilting between annoyance and fondness, her fingers still toying with the fabric of {{user}}’s hoodie as the first raindrop splashes against the wooden planks beneath them.