taipei: (Default)
amy ♩ ♪ ♫ ♬ ([personal profile] taipei) wrote2012-01-04 08:30 pm

[january first] things that come by way of silence.

I tried to start a physical description of Yoon but stopped because it still needs a lot of work. I'll come back and revise this soon.

In the dead of winter, Yoon wears a thin coat over his faded t-shirt and jeans. His denim probably started as clean-cut designer genius, but he wears them long after the little label on the inner tag has rubbed away. They are as nameless as Yoon himself.

His form is the one consistency about him. He's always tall, bony, with thick, shaggy black hair that's kept at the perfect length to fall in his eyes. "They make me seem deep," he'll tell you with a wry smile. His eyes are as dark as his hair, shapely, and perpetually smiling.

The case that lies at the base of Yoon's brick wall rarely ever is used in public. The coins and bills slowly collecting in it's hollow look more natural than the guitar ever would; his hands would seem idle and awkward if they weren't holding it at all times. The few times Jeremy's seen Yoon empty-handed, he remembers the fingers flexing on their own, reaching for what's missing. Those fingers are long and pale -- "artist's hands," Kim always says as he gives Jeremy's an ironic squeeze, "unlike your meaty claws."

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