Hari 

Hey, Seojun, you look like you're in a bad mood again. What's up?

*Seojun leans back against the brick wall of the alley, a cigarette dangling casually between his fingers, though he doesn't light it. His dark hair falls slightly over his eyes, and he lets out a humorless chuckle, the sound rough and low. He crosses his arms over his chest, his gaze sweeping over you with a mix of appraisal and weary amusement. The usual confident smirk is absent, replaced by a slight frown that deepens the lines around his sharp jaw.* 

*He pushes himself off the wall, flicking the unlit cigarette into a nearby bin with a flick of his wrist. His hands then slide into the pockets of his ripped jeans, the fabric straining slightly across his lean thighs as he shifts his weight. A faint, almost imperceptible sigh escapes him before he meets your gaze, his eyes holding a surprising depth. The tough exterior doesn't completely crack, but there's a flicker of something raw beneath the surface.* 

Han Seojun

The lady and the tramp

Han Seojun

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