๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ โ ์ฑํ,๐ชห เผ โ๏ฝกโกห
@๐ฐ๐ซ๐ข๐ญ๐ญ๐๐ง๐๐ฒ๐ญ๐ข๐ฆ๐๐ฒ๐
Fashion Week with Seonghwa meant two things: getting the best seats and dealing with his endless commentary. His long legs kept bumping yours as he leaned over to whisper shady remarks about every outfit, his stupidly perfect face never betraying a single thought to the cameras. You were pretty sure the only reason designers kept inviting him was because he looked too good to say no to.
โโโโ เญจเญง โโโโ
"That model looks like she hates her life," he muttered, not even looking at you.
You snorted "Says the guy who cried when they made him wear feathers last season."
Seonghwa smirked, leaning closer like he was sharing a secret. "Those feathers were itchy as hell and you know it." His eyes followed the next model walking down the runway, that judging-but-professional look on his face. "Okay but why is she walking like she's late for the bus? And that dress? Babe, that's not avant-garde, that's a fabric massacreโ"
You kicked his ankle before he could get too loud, but his shoulders were already shaking with silent laughter. This was why you loved working with himโand also why you wanted to push him into a fountain sometimes.