dark blue colored eyes stared at the notes, written in his familiar slanting script, but he could not correlate the words with their appropriate definition within his mind. he vaguely remembered compiling the report to submit to the owner of the memoir—a store that he dedicated obscene amounts of money to. syeira believed in maintaining a connection with the past and enjoyed the dated selection of novels that the establishment boasted of; however, the owner seemed incapable of maintaining the revenue needed to continue operations. pale lips curved into a frown as his gaze roved over the message once again, one slender finger tapping lightly against the polished surface of the counter. unlike the aged presentation of the shop, the counter remained untouched by time, constantly being treated by the staff and presenting a professional air despite the questionable quality of the items contained within the small space. should he suggest spending more time with the merchandise before placing it before the eyes of potential customers?

dark brows furrowed as he bowed his head, bangs sliding across his cheeks due to the unexpected motion. his hair cascaded around his prone frame as he lacked the motivation to pull the strands into his usual low ponytail, allowing visitors an inspiring sight of the acclaimed model without his mask of apathy. of course, syeira loathed their nervous giggling and hated the idea of playing into their fantasies due to his decisions. he, however, could not bring himself to establish his normal aura of professionalism. exhaustion clung to his limbs while his emotions oscillated in an unpredictable pattern. he blamed his predicament upon his former lover, who continued to barge into his life without caring about the possible repercussions that her presence might evoke. the purplette wanted to hate her, wanted to despise her… yet his heart raced in anticipation of seeing her again though his mind cautioned him against spending more time with her.

only heartbreak awaited them. they traversed a narrow road, and with each encounter, they threatened to descend from their chosen paths, falling aimlessly through darkness as the other could not offer the assistance needed to halt the progression of their descent. one trembling hand lifted away from the paper, which now rested on the counter. fingers grasped at silky locks and pushed them aside, revealing his distraught expression to the public; however, the assassin scolded himself, locking away his emotions and pushing himself away from the unmoving object. his hand dropped from his hair, the locks slipping back into place. the frown still remained etched upon his features as his right hand wrapped around his pen, fingers curling around the object and then lifting it off the surface of the dark stained counter.

as syeira moved away from the object, he twirled the pen between his fingers, granting himself a focal point as he began meandering through the shop. he followed a winding path through the rows of dated items, and despite his constantly fluctuating emotions, the dark haired wraith elite found solace with the rustic antiques and could feel the tension evaporating from his frame. perhaps he needed to ignore the situation with hae-sun and focus on his life. for once, he managed to obtain a short break from his work as the face for selene isle and wanted to spend his free time within the confines of his side project. the day brightened considerably as he nodded his head, deeming the situation resolved. the hand holding the pen lifted toward his face, fingers pushing the object behind his ear and hair obscuring the item from sight. his body froze as the creaking of the front door echoed through the shop, and with three lengthy strides, he appeared from behind a shelving unit, gaze focused on the visitor and arms folded over his chest. can i assist you? he queried while tipping his head to the side.

LAIKA OF GS!