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Summary
Kun’s mind is kind of having a hard time catching up.
A lavender blouse, paired with black skinny jeans and a skirt. Hair jet black, longer than he remembers it being, framing his face like a pixie. Face flushed, all the boyish features replaced with fine lines and sharpness, delicate and strong somehow turning him ethereal, despite merely standing outside the airport.
Kun’s mind short circuits.
“Well hello to you too, dearest soon to be fiancé. You can continue the staring in the car, you know where I don’t fucking melt,” and then boots back to power. The crude language perfectly contrasts his look, and there: the essence of Ten at a sidewalk in Seoul.
(Or, Kun has never been great at understanding what he feels, there's a marriage, and a whole lot of routines)