Hoppla! Dieses Bild entspricht nicht unseren inhaltlichen Richtlinien. Um mit dem Veröffentlichen fortfahren zu können, entferne es bitte oder lade ein anderes Bild hoch.
Hoppla! Dieses Bild entspricht nicht unseren inhaltlichen Richtlinien. Um mit dem Veröffentlichen fortfahren zu können, entferne es bitte oder lade ein anderes Bild hoch.
͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏⠀⠀ Jay Park, all grown up now, stands between Sujin and the almost-victims to her target practice with an air of certainty and confidence.
"Sujin, hey!" He gives her a kind smile, and she has to blink multiple times to convince herself the boy in front of her is, indeed, her childhood acquaintance and not some total impostor. He carefully pries the football from her grip and tosses it back to its rightful (albeit, dickheaded) owners with a stern warning: "Don't be fucking creeps. Next time I'll get Sunghoon on all your asses."
The younger boys' eyes widen to the size of saucers at the threat, and they scamper off without so much as another word. Jay rolls his eyes at their behavior before turning back around to properly greet his old friend.
"Long time no see," He says, extending a welcome hand to shake.
He doesn't actually look too different from his younger self, Sujin realizes the longer she takes in his appearance. He's just shot to an impressive height, with features that have somehow sharpened over the years - from his angular cheekbones to starkly defined jawline.
No, it's the smaller differences that catch her attention. His hair is no longer spiked up like it was in middle school, but rather sits in silky strands over his forehead. He's dressed in preppy-casual attire, with a pair of gold-rimmed specs hanging off his collar. And there's been some sort of shift in his demeanor; she can tell off his posture alone that he's no longer the little boy she used to play menace with all those years ago.
Sujin's brows knit together in a tight line, something akin to disgust painting her features.
