Correct?; Kwangmin-centric

//he used to be such a good kid

“Minnie,” Kwangmin continues to drag the ballpoint tip with his fingers, the ink flowing along in a voiceless rhythm over the murky, white leaves of a notebook. He barely hears the voice. Though, even if he somewhat caught it, not a speckle of a damn was given otherwise.

“Minnie.” The voice is solid, louder and surely sat in his ears the moment it had tumbled from wherever. He halted the beat in his to let it tingle on his fingers, waiting for resume. An internal debate of whether to pay attention or play deaf but the gaze his paper gave won over it.

His fingers gripped the pen and played a or two with ever so-

“Jo. Kwang. ing. Min!” he turns to the source as he hears his name and held his breath at the sight of the hovering Youngmin.

His brunette brother held a glare as he watched the younger boy draw stray lines on top of one another in a droning act of boredom with his pen and his notebook when it was time to get to their jesus-christ-banana-ing-rehearsal-studio.

Kwangmin turns an angle more even so his brother’s frown is fully visible “Why hello, lovely lady,” he says. Youngmin twitches. “You’ve come back with my water bottle. Correct?” Kwangmin bats his nonchalant lashes with a reciprocated frown.