Beautifully Late

#BeautifullyLate #HanJaeyul #kpop #KpopSong #kpopmusic #kpopinspired #dancepop #popmusic #kpopdance #originalsong #originalmusic #malevocal #popanthems #catchysong #feelgoodmusic #brightpop #romanticpop #playfulromance #FlirtySong #lovesongs #waitingforyou #beautifulchaos #latelate #musicyoutube #manhwa #manhwastyle #webtoon #animemusic #originalcharacter #OCMusic #JmbLowell ﾟﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*ﾟ:*:✼✿ ❁ཻུ۪۪⸙͎ ✿✼:*ﾟ:.｡..｡.:*･ﾟﾟ ﾟﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*ﾟ:*:✼✿ ❁ཻུ۪۪⸙͎ ✿✼:*ﾟ:.｡..｡.:*･ﾟﾟ ♡ *BEAUTIFULLY LATE — Han Jaeyul* ♡ *Still waiting, still smiling.* ﾟﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*ﾟ:*:✼✿ ❁ཻུ۪۪⸙͎ ✿✼:*ﾟ:.｡..｡.:*･ﾟﾟ Beautifully Late habla de enamorarse precisamente de aquello que se supone que debería desesperarte de alguien. Ella pierde las llaves, se equivoca de camino, llega demasiado temprano o escandalosamente tarde, habla sola, se distrae y parece vivir siguiendo sus propias reglas. Él sabe que debería cansarse. Incluso intenta convencerse: “Let her go—she’s crazy.” Pero cada pequeño desastre termina siendo otra razón para esperarla. ♡ *BEAUTIFULLY LATE* ♡ Three o’clock, four o’clock— she’ll get here when she gets here. I should leave, but honestly… I’m still waiting. She smiles like tomorrow never crossed her mind, leaves her keys on the table, leaves the whole world behind. Misses the bus, takes the wrong way, shows up early on the wrong day. I never know where she’s going, but I want to go there too. I can’t control this feeling, I know it could be dangerous. One more laugh, one careless touch— I might fall in love with all of it. All those flaws, all those little lovely things. Every warning in my head gets quieter when she looks at me. I tell myself, “Let her go—she’s crazy.” But maybe that’s the reason I can’t stop thinking lately. Friend or enemy, on my side or against me, she pulls me close, then runs away— and somehow that just gets me. She said, “Meet me there at three.” Now it’s four, and I don’t care. I should leave, but I’m still waiting, dying to see her walking in— beautifully late again. Late, late—beautifully late. Red light, green light—I still wait. Late, late—what can I say? She drives me out of my mind in the sweetest way. Cats follow her like royalty, the grayest day turns gold. There’s a sunrise in her eyes that never does what it is told. She won’t give up, she won’t sit still, she has the habits that test my will. She makes me angry, makes me laugh, then acts like none of it happened. She loves like love might hurt her, so she keeps one foot outside. Probably planning how to ruin this before I even call it mine. All those walls, all those little secret fears. She pretends she doesn’t need me, then makes sure I’m always near. I tell myself, “Let her go—she’s crazy.” But maybe that’s the reason I can’t stop thinking lately. Friend or enemy, on my side or against me, she pulls me close, then runs away— and somehow that just gets me. She said, “Meet me there at three.” Now it’s four, and I don’t care. I should leave, but I’m still waiting, dying to see her walking in— beautifully late again. Late, late—beautifully late. Red light, green light—I still wait. Late, late—what can I say? She drives me out of my mind in the sweetest way. Maybe I’ll find her talking to herself, lost inside a story she forgot to tell. Maybe she’ll wander somewhere far away, forget every word that I said yesterday. She’ll look at the clock, then look at me— “Oh… you really said three?” I’ll roll my eyes, she’ll laugh like that, and suddenly I’ll forget why I was mad. She’s trouble in a pretty dress, a beautiful and reckless mess. Every time I try to run, she turns around— and there I am. I tell myself, “Let her go—she’s crazy.” But maybe I’m the crazy one for hoping she might save me. Friend or enemy, on my side or against me, she breaks my plans, she steals my sleep— and somehow that completes me. She said, “Meet me there at three.” It’s almost five—I’m still right here. I should leave, but I keep waiting, ’cause every second disappears the moment that she walks in. I swear I’m done, then there she is— beautifully late again. Late, late—beautifully late. I know better, but I still wait. She smiles, says, “Sorry…” And I forget the time again.