yoojin was in a bad mood and it wasn’t something new. he was still reeking from the stupid celebration party after hwaseong’s win on quidditch on saturday and everything smelled like butterbeer and sex and he wasn’t having it anymore. at least it was swimming meeting day and he could finally relax, without stupid people replaying the stupid match and kang levi’s amazing seeker’s moves - he was done with it; quidditch season made him question the whole semester.
he wasn’t the most dedicated swimmer but he enjoyed feeling his muscles underwater and the fact there were almost to no former hogwarts quidditch players at the team. even though he tried to swim under the radar, he was rather good and was even breaking a couple of records here and there without even trying, much to his displease, since all he wanted was to remain unnoticed.
and it was right there, when he finished a lap, he noticed two people talking and looking at him. they didn’t hide their stares, especially the taller male and it made yoojin’s blood boil already, if he was talking shit about him, something was definitely going down. “fuck, i love mokseong so much”, he muttered under his breath, his walls all back up as he stared back at dom - he guessed that was his name - from across the pool, chin up.
“if you have something to say, say it to my face.”
[ ] swimming was a love that dom had discovered at bokseong. it wasn’t intentional — he never held interest in it before — but it wasn’t unfamiliar to him. he spent some odd years glued to the television during summer olympics watching every single event. the artistic swimming events usually captured his attention more. swimming was something he was decently good at but, unlike fencing, he never considered making a career out of it.
it’s part of the reason why he never shoots for a captain position on the team although there has been talk of him being considered. the promotion for fencing was more than enough for the la raised boy. his scholarship to attend school was for fencing specifically after all. but that doesn’t mean he isn’t as dedicated to the creed of the swim team. he keeps his eye out for his fellow members on any improvement.
he was talking with someone, as many were trying to find their placements for events this year: diving, breaststroke, backstroke and butterfly metre events as well as the relay. dominic had considered trying for the relay and for the 200 metre breaststroke events. when prompted on whom he thought would fit for other events, his eyes drifted to the boy currently doing warm up laps in the pool. “well….i think yoojin does a great backstroke. i haven’t pay attention to his stamina though….so maybe a 50 metre event for him?”
what he wasn’t expecting was the hostile way the other addresses them. dom blinks, as if finally realising that yoojin was staring back at them. dom tilts his head. “having a bad day?” he asks, knowing that it’s only going to push buttons. he doesn’t take lightly to being address with hostility. especially when he’s done nothing to earn it.
“i was just saying how you would be a good choice for a 50 metre event but with that attitude, i hope you’re not a part of the relay.”
[ ] i’ve been searching the ends of the earth for you, @luxacterna
there was a strange feeling with knowing his memory had been tampered with. someone invaded his privacy and now he could no longer trust his own mind. what was he to believe if not his own perception? as the weekend continued on, he had tried his damndest to recover the memories forgotten. it didn’t work.
they were patchy, incomplete and provided no information for him to work off of. as infuriating as it was, he knew it was hopeless to push for more. the faceless girl that made his heart ache with yearning will remain faceless, it seems, lest his mind repair itself. charming assumes that if he were to run into her, everything would fall into place once more. maybe he was childish for believing so. the prince remained hopeful regardless.
perhaps that’s what brings him to the concealed shop of the local witch. she’s mysterious and interesting. he knows nothing of what fable she is from but he is the closest thing he has to a chance. so despite the blizzard that was currently overtaking new york city, the prince strolled into the warmth of the quaint shoppe. he brushes off the snow of his shoulders and hat onto the welcome mat.
“good morning!” he tells her cheerily despite the weather. of course fables are a tad bit more resilient to the weather of the mundy world but not by much. frostbite doesn’t mean much to fables. not when their limbs grow back in a twenty four hour period. the gloves on his hand felt more like a formality so mundies don’t look at him strangely. he only removes them after he’s crossed the shop and placed a cup of hot chocolate in front of the only other patron.
“i brought a treat, as promised.” out of an insulator lunch box he produces food: pasta with sun dried tomatoes that he made himself. “i also have a request of you, if you are able. are you familiar with tracking magic?”
