･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･✦ʚɞ

“i want to tell you something about me.” nari says. her voice sounds revelatory, or maybe resuscitated. like she had gone somewhere else to look for whatever she was looking for and now, she had come back. empty-handed, of course. there is never really any journeying beyond the boundary she imposes upon herself in that mind of hers. never any leaving. elucidate a passageway where there is no exit and time is a circle the same way the sea is. there is no here to there or there to here. it is only there to there and here to here. the cyclical and cannibalistic ouroboros eating its own tail. grief then and grief now.

“i’m a killer, haeun.” nari’s confession is simple and meek—unbearable too, for some reason. she hurriedly interjects before haeun can respond. “somebody has died before because of me.” her intoned softness doubles somehow apologetically, dutifully: she tries to make it lighter than it is. lighter than she feels. perhaps the tenderest of all feathers refuged so closely like this, hopefully one of haeun’s better burdens. “my parents abandoned me when i was born and it’s been haunting me ever since. everything that’s happened.” quiet befalling them the same way earthly shadows do. still, nari has very sharp eyes with which she searches for haeun's face.

there it is. the reason behind nari’s intensity, and why her flight is so weighed down.

it explains so much, really. and for a split second, it does take haeun by surprise. everyone has secrets, of course — and she’d like to believe she’s gotten skilled at prying them out over the years — yet very few can make such claims. even fewer want to say such words aloud. it takes a certain brand of courage to do so. perhaps it is only possible when strongly tied to desperation. 

past the initial shock, she finds that there is something within her tingling. it’s the excitement of knowing your prey is right where you want it, the certainty that preludes the leap aiming for the kill. haeun never imagined herself so addicted to this, but every little step that’s brought them closer together has been exhilarating, and this confession feels like they’re dangerously close to their destination.

in truth, haeun wants nothing more than for nari’s wings to spread wide, for her to soar past the ghosts of her past and the inevitability of her eventual binding. she wants the same for herself, and she will stop at nothing to set them both free. 

her gaze lingers on every feature, one by one, studying how each muscle in nari’s face twitches and pulls the longer she holds the silence between them. her voice comes at last, as quiet as it is relentless, resonating with unbridled desire. “i think i could eat you up.”

their noses brush together. despite how hard she tries to keep her emotions in check, haeun can sense her own body begin to tremble. to see nari in front of her like so, to see her bare her soul like so... 

intoxicating. 

she wants to make her claim. but it is not time. not yet.

her grip tightens. her thumb runs across the other’s lower lip. “it’s not your fault.” she lets her words hang in the wind for a second before they’re taken away into the fading light around them. “it’s not.” she hasn’t heard the whole story, yet she knows that much is true. call it fox intuition.

instinctively, she wraps herself more around nari. “tell me. everything.” she finally breaks eye contact, only to breathe in the other’s scent at the base of her neck and up along her jaw. “don’t hold back.”

free will exists, somehow. known by everyone, but forgotten all too easily to be used with abandon. he decides to use his at ass o' clock in the communal kitchen, forgetting time and place in pursuit of the usual rituals to start the day. on the stove, the kettle hums with each rising tick of the temperature; his hands busy with impatiently rummaging through the third line of cupboards.

so far, he's found: crumpled coffee filters, tinseled holiday favors from last year, a variety pack of stale granola, the lone pine cone (?), and not a single tea bag in sight. so concentrated he is in his unfruitful search that the distant-turned-not-so-distant steps pattering into the open space barely registers. moving, moving still until he zeroes in on heavyset canister sitting on the topmost shelf—aha!—remaining fully blind to the new presence. that is, until eunho turns around, and nearly jumps straight out of his skin, only the metal can beats him to the leap. it hits the floor with a louder than necessary clang, but not without bouncing off of his big toe in the process.

by now, no one bats an eye at it — not that they should, anyway, considering the entity that granted her her magic. once upon a time many years ago, a newcomer student could swear they saw in her a ghost dancing in the moonlight in the old lecture halls, before they had really learned about the true nature of life, death, and all that. the student was so adamant, however, that the rumors caught on. mostly as a joke by senior witches than anything, but still. that was a fun week for hyejin. 

this time, instead of haunting a part of the school due for remodeling, she is simply looking to soothe herself after completing a particularly complex ritual. funny enough, she might as well be a ghost with how devoid of color and energy her complexion is. the night is still feisty, lingering magic threads from the blood moon event making it harder for her to tune in and hone its powers without great effort on her part. the ringing in her ears is particularly bad, too.

though it is briefly overpowered by a loud thud followed by a curse word. 

hyejin is still standing towards the entrance of the kitchen area as it happens, and she watches it with tired eyes, barely registering the presence of another being until a few seconds too late. she can’t help a soft laugh before finally letting her gaze adjust to properly see the other. “i wouldn’t be surprised if the birds in the forest woke up from that,” she teases him before stepping closer, her expression turning sympathetic. 

“... you are so shrewd.” nari murmurs, alight with the heartwarming breath of a short laugh that simmers. “as always,” her addendum; her same, solitary finger that traces the edge of haeun’s right eye. “for what, though? i’m sure it must exhaust you. i don’t particularly care for it either, you know.” that haunting shadow opens itself up like a gaping maw. nari envisions herself in a hapless plummet and when this moment passes, her tangible body refuges within the bounty of haeun’s own chest.

and all of a sudden, nari’s semblance shifts, as if she’s heard or seen something only available to her. it’s mesmerizing, to watch her delicate features shift into horror as she seeks solace into haeun’s embrace. 

her intensity is intoxicating. it’s what keeps haeun coming back for more. 

for a little while, all the fox does is hold the little bird closer. it’s not really her aspiration in life to be someone else’s safe haven like so, but she’s smart enough to understand these moments are necessary in order to break through to nari and get her to see the light for herself. then, as the other speaks, it’s haeun’s turn to run a finger over her face, playfully tracing the outline of her jaw, reveling in the anticipation that her own silence creates once the question is asked. she ends the teasing by gently bopping nari on the nose, and smiles. “yes.” she answers as simply as her gaze is fierce, her own face lingering as close as possible to nari’s without making direct contact.

“besides,” she protests with just the hint of a smile betraying her pout. “you said you’d help me out and we still haven’t found anything.” not that nari herself has helped, anyway. the grass she’s laying in has been the same green cushion to sustain her as time dawdles on and her contribution amounts to really nothing but deleterious scrutiny. well, sometimes curiosity too. with her elbow nestled into the ground she builds a nest for her head inside of her palm.

an insect skitters by. she sits upright.

“we don’t have to leave.” her voice drips with honey-like comfort, her tone low and barely audible. “not yet”, she repeats after the other, the corners of her lips curling in amusement. she props herself up on one arm to mirror nari, taking the time to pour her eyes over every detail of the other’s face. haeun is pleased with the lack of malice that stares back. not real malice, anyway. 

and haeun is equally displeased with the lack of spark in nari, that seems to always haunt her like a shadow.

“i am helping”, she retorts with a protest of her own, her playful smile dancing like the leaves above them. “i am here for moral support. plus, i am a better hunter than you. but you have to point out the prey first.” 

The prettiest Maknae 🖤