[team five] A prologue of sorts
My dream Korean cast of Sherlock, set in neo-Seoul because I can't write real cities.
Screw coffee, Eunhye is a much better hangover therapy. Woobin frowns over his newspapers, where he's currently skimming the headlines in five different languages while listening to an audiobook in Farsi just to keep myself sharp and beckons his assistant - "partner!" - over with the flick of a wrist.
She ignores him, texting her dear sweet fiancé Shiyoon no doubt. Woobin secretly approves, but not for the reasons she does. I do like a bit of spy for breakfast with my kippers.
"I need some more coffee," he says, an undertone of impatience in his voice.
"You know where the coffee machine is," she replies without looking up.
"I'll tell you who's going to win the cyber-polo championships..." he doesn't even have to finish the sentence before she's up and walking over to the kitchen, grumbling expletives under her breath. Nonchalantly, Woobin flicks an envelope off the stack of mail and into the wastepaper basket.
6월
Joon, I was happy enough thinking you were dead at the bottom of a well in post-Sahara.
Just then his phone rings; Woobin ignores it in favour of hearing Eunhye's exasperated sighing as she darts over, bare feet whispering over the parquet floors, before scrabbling around in the mess of papers on the table.
"Yoon speaking," she finally answers the phone, breathless. Woobin doesn't bother listening; he already knows who's on the other side.
"Your brother would like to meet for tea," she informs him, far too diligently for his tastes. He cocks a disbelieving eyebrow at her, and she relents, but not without giving him a disbelieving glare. "He wants to discuss the matter of the inheritance." She pauses, as though awaiting an answer.
"The answer is always no," Woobin sniffs, reaching for his coffee before remembering it's empty. "The last time I checked, Kim was not synonymous for Lee."
"I don't know why you can't just take the money and forget about it," Eunhye retorts, "it doesn't hurt you any." She curses as the hot water she's pouring over the espresso shot splashes back to spatter her wrist. " Then he wouldn't have to keep calling me."
"But this way I can bother dear brother Jongsuk more delightfully," Woobin smirks. "Also I think he likes calling, another chance to hear your delightful morning voice."
"Fuck you too," Eunhye smiles sarcastically, dumping the coffee cup next to him. "Here's your coffee and I'm heading out because there's an appointment with a certain Miss Wang." She's pulling on a tweed coat and fumbling around for an umbrella and doesn't hear Woobin mutter under his breath.
"Jiwon just wants to get in your pants."
Or maybe she does.
"I heard that," Eunhye calls back as she lets the door slam behind her. "Have you ever considered the fact that perhaps she actually wants to get into yours?"
Her footsteps are echoing down the corridor to the drop shoot when Woobin replies to his newspaper.
"Been there, tried that." I love a woman more for their head than the bits of skin they have on their bones.
Smiling at the newspaper, the digital font sliding across the celluloid, he sees that there's been a strange occurrence in W-. A dead body with what seems to be an ancient German message scrawled next to it in blood.
Perfect entertainment for a gloomy day.
tagging lattelotus
Screw coffee, Eunhye is a much better hangover therapy. Woobin frowns over his newspapers, where he's currently skimming the headlines in five different languages while listening to an audiobook in Farsi just to keep myself sharp and beckons his assistant - "partner!" - over with the flick of a wrist.
She ignores him, texting her dear sweet fiancé Shiyoon no doubt. Woobin secretly approves, but not for the reasons she does. I do like a bit of spy for breakfast with my kippers.
"I need some more coffee," he says, an undertone of impatience in his voice.
"You know where the coffee machine is," she replies without looking up.
"I'll tell you who's going to win the cyber-polo championships..." he doesn't even have to finish the sentence before she's up and walking over to the kitchen, grumbling expletives under her breath. Nonchalantly, Woobin flicks an envelope off the stack of mail and into the wastepaper basket.
6월
Joon, I was happy enough thinking you were dead at the bottom of a well in post-Sahara.
Just then his phone rings; Woobin ignores it in favour of hearing Eunhye's exasperated sighing as she darts over, bare feet whispering over the parquet floors, before scrabbling around in the mess of papers on the table.
"Yoon speaking," she finally answers the phone, breathless. Woobin doesn't bother listening; he already knows who's on the other side.
"Your brother would like to meet for tea," she informs him, far too diligently for his tastes. He cocks a disbelieving eyebrow at her, and she relents, but not without giving him a disbelieving glare. "He wants to discuss the matter of the inheritance." She pauses, as though awaiting an answer.
"The answer is always no," Woobin sniffs, reaching for his coffee before remembering it's empty. "The last time I checked, Kim was not synonymous for Lee."
"I don't know why you can't just take the money and forget about it," Eunhye retorts, "it doesn't hurt you any." She curses as the hot water she's pouring over the espresso shot splashes back to spatter her wrist. " Then he wouldn't have to keep calling me."
"But this way I can bother dear brother Jongsuk more delightfully," Woobin smirks. "Also I think he likes calling, another chance to hear your delightful morning voice."
"Fuck you too," Eunhye smiles sarcastically, dumping the coffee cup next to him. "Here's your coffee and I'm heading out because there's an appointment with a certain Miss Wang." She's pulling on a tweed coat and fumbling around for an umbrella and doesn't hear Woobin mutter under his breath.
"Jiwon just wants to get in your pants."
Or maybe she does.
"I heard that," Eunhye calls back as she lets the door slam behind her. "Have you ever considered the fact that perhaps she actually wants to get into yours?"
Her footsteps are echoing down the corridor to the drop shoot when Woobin replies to his newspaper.
"Been there, tried that." I love a woman more for their head than the bits of skin they have on their bones.
Smiling at the newspaper, the digital font sliding across the celluloid, he sees that there's been a strange occurrence in W-. A dead body with what seems to be an ancient German message scrawled next to it in blood.
Perfect entertainment for a gloomy day.
tagging lattelotus