Electric Girl
Focus/Pairing: Hankyung/Victoria
Rating: PG-13
Summary: She floats into the room, wearing a blue wig.
Word count: 965
A/N: clearly I write too much Hantoria. for more reasons as to why, check back in a few weeks, lol. but I love them. they're always so sweet irl separately that I can't imagine them being anything except really cute when they are together. and somehow this was inspired by prompt #60 from milkpoet .
Electric Girl
She floats into the room, wearing a blue wig which Hankyung thinks doesn’t really suit her that well. She has long legs, and she uses them to dance her way across the room, wine glass in her hand and the music from the speakers inhabiting her head, long term. It’s obvious to Hankyung that the alcohol made her this way--eyes closed, toes pointed, and no one is stopping to ask her if she wants to sit down and rest. Take a break.
The blue wig is cropped short, and it’s more of an electric blue than the blue of someone’s eyes. Hankyung doesn’t really know anyone with blue eyes, though, at least in the area. He’s been to LA. There were some blue-eyed folks there. Amber’s from LA, she has brown eyes--Hankyung might be a little bit drunk, and a little bit unfocused. On anything; his mind can’t seem to stop wandering.
But anyway. The girl.
She’s pretty; too pretty to be by herself, but there’s no man by her side to stop her from tripping over Henry passed out on the floor. There’s no woman, either, because who is Hankyung to judge who this girl spends her nights with? Maybe she digs both.
When she trips, she finally opens her eyes, and she hasn’t spilled a single drop of her wine. The red liquid’s been swishing around in its glass for minutes on end, and Hankyung has been watching it this entire time. And her. He wants to talk to her, and maybe get her to sit down and breathe for a second, to stop moving and tripping and looking so flawless at the same time.
He draws closer after a while, after friends have tried to stop him and tried to shove more alcohol into his empty hands. Somehow, Hankyung’s built up the ability to say no to them, even when tipsy.
So he approaches her. By now she’s just standing, with the outer appearance of a completely normal woman and Hankyung would have been fooled if it wasn’t for that electric blue bob cut on her head. Obviously, it is a wig, as he’s known this whole time. In the past five minutes, he hasn’t had a single doubt about it, but he could never be too sure. His friends have weird friends.
The girl tugs at her black dress, the sleeves traveling all the way down to her wrists and sticking to her skin like a bathing suit, only they aren't swimming. Hankyung is pretty sure they aren’t. She tugs the ends down, as if trying to conceal more of her thighs. The dress isn’t obscenely short, but perhaps she’s noticed his eyes on her. He's made her self-conscious. That could be a good sign.
“Why are you wearing a wig?” Is the first thing he asks. She stares at him with eyes that are too clear to be intoxicated with too much wine. Sober.
“Because we found a bunch of wigs in the closet, and it seemed like fun to put them on.” That explains Heechul in the red ponytail--before, Hankyung had almost thought that the wine had shot him back to the past, when Heechul’s hair literally had been that way.
Hankyung doesn’t realize they’re speaking in Chinese until he asks, “Where are you from?” for no apparent reason and she tells him, “Qingdao.” He feels like he’s known this since the moment he laid eyes on her, and he feels his stomach curling from the cheesiness that’s thriving in his own mind.
“I’m Victoria,” she adds, smiling. She's moving along with the music that’s filling the room, discreetly. Hankyung almost doesn’t notice, but he’s been staring, and it’s his turn to talk.
“Hankyung,” he says. “But my real name is Han Geng.”
She laughs. He doesn’t understand what’s so funny, but he goes along with it. Victoria is starting to turn into a blur, but her basic outline remains. He watches her remove the wig, shaking out her long, dark hair. “This was all kind of silly.”
“No, no, I think you look good,” he says. “You look good now, too.”
“Wigs aren’t really my thing,” she’s blushing as she says it. Victoria’s peering at him over the blue follicles like she wants him to try it. Soon, she’s holding it in his face. He sputters and chokes on dust that flies from the netted plastic scalp. “Wear it?”
Hankyung finishes coughing. “Wigs aren’t really my thing, either.”
“Aw,” she pouts, smoothing out the brightly colored hairs. “You would’ve looked cute. Not that you aren’t cute already. Just. I was just thinking.”
“I--I’ll take it, though. If you want.”
Victoria’s eyebrows raise a little, like she’s surprised. He doesn’t blame her. “Sure.”
It takes a few moments until they speak again. She hasn’t moved an inch away from him, though, and her eyes are closed again when she does say something.
“I’ve met guys like you,” she opens her eyes.
He points to himself. “Guys like me?”
“Guys like you. The Nice Guy. There are always some of those.” She’s analyzing him. “But I like you.”
“Thank you.”
“Actually, you don't seem like The Nice Guy. You seem more like The Good Guy. Those are really special. I haven’t met many of those,” she glances fondly at him, eyes smiling. “You can stick around. I like you.”
Hankyung’s hands are becoming sweaty inside the wig.
“Just as long as you don’t try to take advantage of me.”
Her eyes are dancing back and forth, running across his face. What she’s looking for is probably an answer to her request. She’s tugging at the hem of her dress again. Self-conscious. Adorable. He just grins. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
//
shipping something this rare is exhausting. yet fulfilling. I'm going to bed now :)
Rating: PG-13
Summary: She floats into the room, wearing a blue wig.
Word count: 965
A/N: clearly I write too much Hantoria. for more reasons as to why, check back in a few weeks, lol. but I love them. they're always so sweet irl separately that I can't imagine them being anything except really cute when they are together. and somehow this was inspired by prompt #60 from milkpoet .
Electric Girl
She floats into the room, wearing a blue wig which Hankyung thinks doesn’t really suit her that well. She has long legs, and she uses them to dance her way across the room, wine glass in her hand and the music from the speakers inhabiting her head, long term. It’s obvious to Hankyung that the alcohol made her this way--eyes closed, toes pointed, and no one is stopping to ask her if she wants to sit down and rest. Take a break.
The blue wig is cropped short, and it’s more of an electric blue than the blue of someone’s eyes. Hankyung doesn’t really know anyone with blue eyes, though, at least in the area. He’s been to LA. There were some blue-eyed folks there. Amber’s from LA, she has brown eyes--Hankyung might be a little bit drunk, and a little bit unfocused. On anything; his mind can’t seem to stop wandering.
But anyway. The girl.
She’s pretty; too pretty to be by herself, but there’s no man by her side to stop her from tripping over Henry passed out on the floor. There’s no woman, either, because who is Hankyung to judge who this girl spends her nights with? Maybe she digs both.
When she trips, she finally opens her eyes, and she hasn’t spilled a single drop of her wine. The red liquid’s been swishing around in its glass for minutes on end, and Hankyung has been watching it this entire time. And her. He wants to talk to her, and maybe get her to sit down and breathe for a second, to stop moving and tripping and looking so flawless at the same time.
He draws closer after a while, after friends have tried to stop him and tried to shove more alcohol into his empty hands. Somehow, Hankyung’s built up the ability to say no to them, even when tipsy.
So he approaches her. By now she’s just standing, with the outer appearance of a completely normal woman and Hankyung would have been fooled if it wasn’t for that electric blue bob cut on her head. Obviously, it is a wig, as he’s known this whole time. In the past five minutes, he hasn’t had a single doubt about it, but he could never be too sure. His friends have weird friends.
The girl tugs at her black dress, the sleeves traveling all the way down to her wrists and sticking to her skin like a bathing suit, only they aren't swimming. Hankyung is pretty sure they aren’t. She tugs the ends down, as if trying to conceal more of her thighs. The dress isn’t obscenely short, but perhaps she’s noticed his eyes on her. He's made her self-conscious. That could be a good sign.
“Why are you wearing a wig?” Is the first thing he asks. She stares at him with eyes that are too clear to be intoxicated with too much wine. Sober.
“Because we found a bunch of wigs in the closet, and it seemed like fun to put them on.” That explains Heechul in the red ponytail--before, Hankyung had almost thought that the wine had shot him back to the past, when Heechul’s hair literally had been that way.
Hankyung doesn’t realize they’re speaking in Chinese until he asks, “Where are you from?” for no apparent reason and she tells him, “Qingdao.” He feels like he’s known this since the moment he laid eyes on her, and he feels his stomach curling from the cheesiness that’s thriving in his own mind.
“I’m Victoria,” she adds, smiling. She's moving along with the music that’s filling the room, discreetly. Hankyung almost doesn’t notice, but he’s been staring, and it’s his turn to talk.
“Hankyung,” he says. “But my real name is Han Geng.”
She laughs. He doesn’t understand what’s so funny, but he goes along with it. Victoria is starting to turn into a blur, but her basic outline remains. He watches her remove the wig, shaking out her long, dark hair. “This was all kind of silly.”
“No, no, I think you look good,” he says. “You look good now, too.”
“Wigs aren’t really my thing,” she’s blushing as she says it. Victoria’s peering at him over the blue follicles like she wants him to try it. Soon, she’s holding it in his face. He sputters and chokes on dust that flies from the netted plastic scalp. “Wear it?”
Hankyung finishes coughing. “Wigs aren’t really my thing, either.”
“Aw,” she pouts, smoothing out the brightly colored hairs. “You would’ve looked cute. Not that you aren’t cute already. Just. I was just thinking.”
“I--I’ll take it, though. If you want.”
Victoria’s eyebrows raise a little, like she’s surprised. He doesn’t blame her. “Sure.”
It takes a few moments until they speak again. She hasn’t moved an inch away from him, though, and her eyes are closed again when she does say something.
“I’ve met guys like you,” she opens her eyes.
He points to himself. “Guys like me?”
“Guys like you. The Nice Guy. There are always some of those.” She’s analyzing him. “But I like you.”
“Thank you.”
“Actually, you don't seem like The Nice Guy. You seem more like The Good Guy. Those are really special. I haven’t met many of those,” she glances fondly at him, eyes smiling. “You can stick around. I like you.”
Hankyung’s hands are becoming sweaty inside the wig.
“Just as long as you don’t try to take advantage of me.”
Her eyes are dancing back and forth, running across his face. What she’s looking for is probably an answer to her request. She’s tugging at the hem of her dress again. Self-conscious. Adorable. He just grins. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
//
shipping something this rare is exhausting. yet fulfilling. I'm going to bed now :)