☹︎

everything around him felt almost dull and lifeless. he’d lost count of how many times he felt this way. insomnia suffocating him, it consumed him as if he was nothing, shoving him deep in the pits of the night. thoughtful words once written neatly in his beloved journal, were now scribbles of frustration, longing for this god-awful thing to disappear. his breathe hitched as his hands began to tremble— the scribbles won’t even form into coherent words onto his ink covered paper. he couldn’t find words to describe what he felt. his body was worn out from his limited hours of sleep, yet somehow his mind remains restless; his thoughts were racing but none of them were coherent. Junhoe sighed, slumping down in his chair in defeat, blankly staring at the tear stained papers strewn around his table. if he’d just sent out a letter, any god damn letter that he’d ever wrote for them. then maybe, just maybe… they’d love him too.

was what she felt. her mind was in a haze, somewhere between consciousness and drunkenness. she wasn’t sure of how long she’s been home for or how much she’d drank -her thoughts were in jumbles and she was a mess. though she was barely awake, she could tell that her bed seemed bigger than normal; colder, maybe even lonelier. it was something she should be used to by now, considering that he’s never home. she chuckled, remembering why she’d even started drinking in the first place, it wasn’t because life was hard, or because she liked the taste. drinking was just a way to pass time at this point- so that she wouldn’t have to wait agonizingly for him to come back to her. she closed her eyes, knowing fully well that by the time she wakes up, she wouldn’t remember how Hanbin came home with lipstick stains on his lips, perfume lingering subtly on his clothes and how the lovebites she never left decorated his chest almost beautifully.

[PRESS] 190421 iKON @ ‘Skechers Sundown Festival in Singapore