| 🥩 | cincau

"do you need me to enact vengeance."

you choke on your drink and hurry to swallow rather ungracefully, pounding on your chest as the mouthful travels painfully down your throat. seeing this, eula flusters and reaches across the table to give your back a few firm pats, handing you a napkin as she does.

perhaps talking about the incident over brunch wasn't one of your brightest ideas, but you desperately needed to vent out all your frustrations with regards to the life crisis called 'being lohen's pen pal'.

thanking her with a raspy voice, you slowly regain control over your breathing and shake your head.

"there's no need, eula, i swear. i can deal with it."

you'd like to think so, anyways. maybe saying it aloud will help convince your heart that it isn't affected by the complicated mess of feelings and memories that surfaced after your meeting with lohen, as futile as it is.

eula stares at you for a good minute before letting out a sigh, a concerned frown marring her fair complexion. the worry in her gaze is palpable, and you know she doesn't fully believe you. it's understandable, really, because you don't believe yourself either.

in an attempt to reassure her, you reach for both her hands, clasping them gently in yours and send an earnest look her way.

"i'll be fine. it's just for one year."

eula huffs.

"yes, a year communicating with a scoundrel who's brought you so much pain sounds like such a fine idea to me. (name), surely you understand my concern?"

her tone reminds you of the time you overheard an older sister reprimanding her younger siblings for running off on their own in the mall, the younger ones sporting guilty expressions as their sister continued to admonish them. you feel quite like them in this case.

you've mentioned lohen a handful of times to eula before, when life grows to be too much and the both of you bond over personal turmoil, seated on the carpeted floor of your shared dorm while drinking the cheap wine she snuck in with plastic party cups.

on those days, your passionate ranting always ends with you becoming a blubbering drunken mess sprawled out on the floor, aggressively wiping the hot tears rolling down your cheeks. eula's never shown you any disdain or annoyance, only comforting you in her own way.

"cease your crying." is what she says, gently prying the cup from your hands and giving you an awkward but tight hug. though the words sound harsh, you can feel the care in them all the same.

over the three years you've known her, eula's become more like family to you than a close friend. you're grateful to have her in your life.

"i understand where you're coming from, and i know what i'm getting into."

you pause and avert your gaze from hers, opting to stare into your drink instead. the liquid's still surface reflects your determined expression.

"i've tried convincing myself that i don't need to know, that i don't want to know, but the truth is that i've never stopped caring for the past seven years."

"this is my chance to finally get an answer, eula. even if i have to jump through hoops to get it, i'll do it. i just want to know why."

you say it all in one breath, heart thumping crazily in your chest and the blood rushing in your ears as you inhale deeply. you never planned to say all that, it just came out in the heat of the moment.

glancing at eula, you watch how surprise morphs into something akin to approval. she adjusts her grip so that her hands covers yours instead, the spark in her eyes clear as day.

"if that's your choice, i'll support it. just be careful, alright? don't get too involved with him."

"i won't, promise!"

you really hope it'll be as simple as that.

○●○●○●○●○●♡♡●○●○●○●○●

Title: Week 1 of torture, only 51 weeks to go.

to lohen,

the title makes me feel better so no i won't be entertaining any questions on it.

i guess you're expecting me to make the first move since i'm the one who wants something from you. i don't know why i'm humouring you, but here we are. feel free to laugh.

as much as i'd like to delve deep into the complaints i have about you, i'm pretty sure this singular piece of paper won't be able to fit everything. not that you'd care anyways.

back to the point of this letter, let's meet at the angel's share at five. i've double-checked your schedule and everything so don't tell me you can't show up. call it an abuse of power, but to use your own words, i frankly don't care.

be punctual. you know i hate it when people are late.

sincerely,

(name)

p.s. i've decided to write one complaint: your smiles are uncanny and scary. they've always been since childhood. that's all.

Title: Week 1 of the BEST year of my life.

to (name),

you're cute, you know that?

you have no idea how thrilled i was to find this at my seat! making use of what i sent you, hm? compared to the one you wrote last time, this letter seems much longer. not that i'm complaining. i always love to hear from you, whether or not you have anything to say. that hasn't changed.

don't worry, i wouldn't dare be late. a loyal knight shouldn't disappoint his princess after all.

speaking of which, you still remember? you used to throw a fit when i didn't play the role of knight well, stomping your foot and everything. it amused me so much that sometimes i did it on purpose just to make you tick and see you pout. i would apologise, but i'm actually not sorry at all.

anyways, can't wait to see you!

sincerely,

lohen

p.s. and since we're talking about complaints, i have one for you too: you didn't give this to me in person. that's all. :)

the words should aggravate you more, but all you can focus on is how your cheeks flush when you get to the 'princess' part. unwittingly, a small smile makes its way onto your face as well when you realise the general pettiness of it all.

it seems that even in adulthood, lohen still manages to effortlessly match whatever attitude you give him. you hate to admit it, but you've missed squabbling with him, even if it's over words on paper.

you wonder if lohen misses it too.

○●○●○●○●○●♡♡●○●○●○●○●

1 message from: pen pal guy (why)

pen pal guy (why): look up

read at 3.58 p.m.

when you glance out the window to your left, you see lohen with his phone in hand and the message interface open, a subtle smile on his face as he waves at you. before you can decide whether or not to wave back, he disappears out of sight and reappears through the doors of the angel's share, making a straight beeline for your booth.

"you're an hour early."

you somehow manage to keep your tone neutral, fighting down the butterflies threatening to flutter out your throat as you watch lohen slide into the opposite seat, the two of you facing each other perfectly now. his eyes form tiny crescent moons when they meet yours.

"i said i wouldn't be late. why do you sound surprised?"

"your past history would say otherwise."

the glance you receive from lohen tells you that he definitely heard your mumble, but just chose not to respond. a brief spark of glee makes itself known as you clear your throat and offer a placating smile.

"i thought you were supposed to be busy at this time."

lohen shrugs and lets out a non-committal hum, picking up a butterknife from the side tray and twirling it between his fingers, addressing you as he does.

"i was. but then i decided the rest of the stuff i needed to do was less important, so i cleared my schedule."

the way he says it is casual, like choosing you over prior commitments was what came naturally and something that didn't need a second thought. like you were never a second thought.

under different circumstances, perhaps you would've been overjoyed to hear that instead of feeling ever so conflicted.

"if that's the case, why did you leave without telling me?"

there's a slight pause in the knife-twirling before it continues again, though the speed has significantly decreased. lohen's brows knit together for a split second before smoothening out again, easily missed if not for the fact you were watching so closely. he laughs breathily, the sound more courtesy than actual joy.

"not going to ask how i've been first? that's a little heartless."

don't scream, don't scream, don't fucking scream. you repeat the mantra in your head over and over again, until the sudden hot flash of anger slowly simmers down and your thoughts aren't somewhat consumed by rage. you take a deep breath before asking again.

"only friends ask each other that. answer my question, lohen."

it's obvious that your voice is strained, the threads of composure slipping away the longer you sit there waiting. but of course, lohen being lohen, he has to say something to test that patience.

"aren't we friends?"

"let's try again another day when you're feeling conversational. i'm leaving."

"no, hold on."

a sharp clatter is heard as cold fingers wrap around your wrist, the grip light but firm and the butterknife left abandoned to the side. lohen's gaze is already on you when you look at him, serious and intense in a way you can't describe.

"i want to talk. but there are some things i can't tell you yet, why i left being one of them."

the words are soft, devoid of the snark and slyness from before, and the whiplash causes your skin to turn to gooseflesh. even so, the indignation caused by them still burns in your heart.

"that's the equivalent of telling me nothing!"

"i know."

"do you?" you scoff. "i don't think you were left waiting for five whole hours like a fool, but you were definitely the one who left without a word. tell me what kind of a friend does that."

a minute of heavy silence falls thereafter, the clinking of glasses and the chatter of other diners serving as the only background noise. you don't dare move as you feel lohen's touch travel down to your palm instead, encasing your hand in his.

"heulsuse," he starts, and you berate yourself internally for the shiver that runs down your spine at the nickname. "i'm a total piece of shit, i know, and a peasant who doesn't deserve anything more than the scraps you're willing to give him."

"but i need you to trust me and give me more time, heulsuse. please."

oh, how long it has been since he called you that.

because you are of weak will, you make the mistake of stealing a glimpse at him. and boy does lohen look ever so pitiful.

those dark, soulless eyes are watery and practically begging for you to believe him, for you to open up that sweet little heart of yours so that he can occupy it once more. not that the space reserved for him in there is completely gone, that is.

the whole act would've been believable if not for the self-deprecating smile upon his lips.

○●○●○●○●○●♡♡●○●○●○●○●

"heulsuse, heulsuse! look at what i caught for you!"

with a toothy grin, lohen presents his catch to you: a wriggling white rabbit with ruby red eyes.

the poor thing struggles and squeaks helplessly in the air, held up by its long ears as lohen proudly looks towards you. however, you seem to care less about the animal and more about the broken music box in your hands.

"i have a name, lohen! stop calling me that! and go away, i don't want to see you!"

with that, you turn your back towards him, clutching the wooden box close to your chest as you fiddle with the parts, sniffling while trying to piece everything back together.

bunny still in hand, lohen sits down on the steps next to you, watching as you shift away from him when he gets close. this continues until both your tiny bodies are squished together at the edge of the steps, with you leaning into the railing and lohen leaning into you.

"i said go away."

"why?"

"because you broke my music box, you brute! how am i supposed to play it now?"

"by accident! it's just a music box anyways, i can buy you a new one."

instead of comforting you, lohen's flippant words only make you bawl even harder, the tears and snot running freely down your face. you land a weak punch to his shoulder, with lohen angling himself so the rabbit in his lap doesn't get caught in the crossfire.

"it's not 'just a music box'! my nana gave it to me for my birthday, so it's special! i'd been taking such good care of it until you had to knock into me and make me drop it!"

he stares quietly as you hiccup, the heartbroken look on your face leaving a sour taste in his mouth. after thinking for a moment, lohen makes up his mind.

"give it to me. here, hold the little one."

"wait, you can't do that!"

ignoring your surprised cry, lohen dumps the fluffy animal into your lap and takes the box from your hands, scrutinising it from every angle before getting to work.

it isn't long before he's done and returns the repaired object.

"see if it works, heulsuse."

both of you watch in anticipation as you turn the dial of the music box, waiting for a minute before a tune begins to play. instantaneously, your somber expression lights up with joy.

"you fixed it! oh, thank you thank you thank you, lohen!"

you throw your arms around him for a quick embrace before releasing him, too enamoured with your music box to notice the blush on his chubby cheeks.

"does that mean you forgive me, heulsuse?"

even though he sounds like he couldn't care less about your answer, his voice is still tinged with the tiniest bit of nervousness and bashfulness. lohen stares at you intently as well, as if it will help him to figure out how you'll respond.

fortunately for lohen, you've always been weak when it comes to him.

"um, only if you stop calling me heulsuse!"

at your proclamation, lohen only giggles and uses his sleeve to wipe off the junk on your face, causing you to whine something about dirtying his clothes. he isn't too bothered though.

"but you cry all the time. i only chose a name that suits you."

"no i don't! i'll stop playing with you if you keep calling me that."

"okay, i'm sorry. forgive me, (name)?"

"...hmph. i guess i could."

○●○●○●○●○●♡♡●○●○●○●○●

heulsuse. heulsuse, heulsuse, heulsuse.

the name both mocks and soothes, reminding you of the girl who had once devoted her love to her childhood friend, the one too soft-hearted against his pretty words and promises.

you haven't changed much, you think.

"fuck you."

you swear honestly, full of spite and half in longing. in response, the lunatic cackles loudly, not caring for the looks sent his way.

he plants a kiss upon your fingers, the touch as light as a feather, eyes never leaving yours as the nonsensical words come out of his mouth.

"good! you should."

○●○●○●○●○●♡♡●○●○●○●○●