#i'd love to read an entire journal of seunggi's muggle discoveries

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@idleds​:

( origin! )

seunggi truly, honestly feels like an absolute moron. and that's putting it very, very nicely.

he doesn't know which part of his brain he should blame for the expectations he had for jiwon's home, but he knows there's at least one nerve-ending in there that had him living in his own little twilight zone. now, don't quiz him on specifics (he's got none, really), but for some odd reason, he swore jiwon's room, his home, or even his neighborhood would look entirely different compared to his own. he doesn't spend too much time with muggles or even learning about them outside of class apart from what jiwon tells him, but — it was hard to not imagine something like an alternate universe from what little he did know, alright?

seunggi's observations, day one, hour one:

the neighborhood does look a little different, for the most part. only because seunggi doesn't really have neighbors — the closest ones are acres away, so asking for a cup of sugar is next to impossible. jiwon's, though, is quite nice. seunggi understands his sweaters and never-ending kindness now.

the house kind of does, too, but that's only a matter of size. again: acres, and whatnot. but jiwon's house isn't lacking. in fact, seunggi feels that there's so much warmth in the atmosphere that the house could swallow him whole and still not be full.

there's no real difference otherwise — the rooms are all the same, there's still a damn kitchen and bathroom, and — shocker! — muggles have television, too.

(he's joking. he swears. just remind him to tell the actual moron who sits behind him in his potions class that they have the technology for moving pictures, too.)

even so, seunggi feels his brows furrow upon stepping into jiwon's room after a long, perfectly needed conversation with his friend's mother — seunggi almost bowed about ten times out of utmost respect and thanks, in case you were curious. his eyes flutter around the room, a small huff of confusion slipping free as he takes in his surroundings.

yup, that's a bed. where jiwon sleeps. probably. right?

after a moment of simply staring, seunggi tosses his bag for the week onto the little makeshift bed on the floor he assumes is for him (leave it to jiwon's mum to make it look extra comfy), his head whizzing around to look at his friend with an utterly perplexed look dawning his features. in fact, he turns so hard he almost sends the bag of takeout boxes they'd picked up on the way flying across the room. (he's careful to catch them, of course, only because he doesn't think he can handle another public space until tomorrow. he can still feel the led's searing into his brain, thank you very much.) "you mean to tell me you don't sleep on the ceiling?!"

jiwon, despite the excitement thrumming in every cell of his body, is nervous. it’s seunggi’s first time visiting his home and, quite possibly and more importantly, his first time visiting a muggle home. from the moment jiwon first saw him, he knew seunggi came from a noble house. brand new robes, a shiny trunk with his initials engraved into the padlock, and eyes that spoke volumes of their familiarity with all the wondrous magic that greeted them upon their first foray into hogwarts castle. bright-eyed, bushy-tailed, eleven-year-old and yet-to-reach-his-growth-spurt jiwon could not have known about pureblood families and the ideals several of them would adhere to. but he knew then that na seunggi, just recently sorted into hufflepuff, was someone important.

now, he is perhaps the most important person here. while his mum fawns over seunggi and tries to unload a frankly alarming amount of snacks upon him, jiwon fiddles with the strings of his hoodie. he tries to take in his home with new eyes, to see everything from the gaze of a visitor. their tree has already been set up by the window but remains free of decorations at jiwon’s request. several boxes of shiny baubles, shimmering string lights, and glittery garland sit stacked nearby. though the tree has yet to be decked out, the rest of the home is dotted with holiday knick-knacks. bookshelves lined with snow globes, the coffee table full of gingerbread men, a little santa doll hanging on the front door with a bell in his over-sized belly. the air is full of cinnamon and brown sugar, the perfect sweet contrast to jiwon’s dad grumbling over a football match on the telly. everything certainly seems festive enough, but jiwon can’t help wondering if seunggi finds any of this ridiculous.

does any of this meet his expectations? would it be worse if it does?

eventually, jiwon takes mercy on seunggi and saves him from his mum’s attempt at getting him to answer whether he’d prefer a citrus tart or tiramisu for dessert. insisting that they’ll give her an answer before long, jiwon all but corrals his friend to his room upstairs. with the door shut, jiwon sighs with relief and gently sets his bag onto the desk near the window. not a moment later, tea wiggles out and makes herself cosy in a strip of sunlight falling across jiwon’s bed after a long, well-deserved stretch. after two seasons spent in the cramped dormitory, the sight of his favourite comics on the bookshelf, glow-in-the-dark stickers dotting the window, and a corkboard filled with old-fashioned polaroids is a breath of fresh, beautiful, swansea air.

then comes seunggi’s question, sending jiwon into a fit of laughter so strong that he has to steady himself against the door.

“what? on the— no, of course not!” jiwon exclaims, plopping onto his bed (very much on the floor) and disturbing a now disgruntled tea. with a sharp look that transcends species and language, the ball of fluff moves to the cushioned nook where only a fool would dare to squeeze in with her. “are you sure your family isn’t even a little bit part-vampire? because they definitely sleep on the ceiling, i’ll tell you that. and on that note, you should really be honest if you are part-vampire, because that fried rice is not going to sit well in your stomach if you eat it now.”