𝖇𝖑𝖔𝖔𝖉 / ᴡᴀᴛᴇʀ

       ❝   i  slipped  and  fell  off  a  beam  in  the  gym,  but  i’m  glad  you  take  interest  in  my  head  injury.  i  actually  -  don’t  think  i’ve  ever  headbanged  in  my  life.  ❞

        there’s  many  answers  to  a  loaded  question,  there’s  daydreams,  hopes  that  one  day  she’ll  get  over  it.  pack  bags,  leave  notes  and  take  the  next  plane.  but  the  reality  of  it  all  is  the  people  left  disappointed  by  such  time  bomb  actions.  ❝   it’s  all  i’ve  ever  known.  everything  is  given  to  me,  it’s  easy.   ❞   there’s  an  easy  chuckle  at  her  own  words,   ❝   wow  .  .  .  now  that  really  makes  me  sound  like  a  brat.  i  guess  .  .  .  i’m  scared  of  having  to  do  things  on  my  own.  my  love  is  in  chicago,  my  house  is  here,  my  fortune,  my  future  —  it  was  all  built  for  me,  so  why  do  something  new  ?   ❞

✕   ╱         𝘽𝙊𝙏𝙃  𝙊𝙁  𝙏𝙃𝙀𝙈  had  similar  upbringings,  they  had  similar  treatments,  they  had  similar  scars.  if  the  world  was  gentler  on  both  of  them,  they  would  see  each  other  differently,  they  would  partake  in  the  same  pain  and,  perhaps,  conquer  that  underworld  together. but  because  they  were cut  from  the  same  cloth,  that  perspective  didn’t  survive  enough  to  become  anything  more  than  a  brief  utopia.     

zane  knows  how  to  push  rome’s  buttons  hard  enough  to  get  a  reaction  out  of  him.  he  knows that  at  the  mention  of  his  name  white  knuckles  would  be  shown,  his  neck  would  tense,  his  mouth  would  dry.  there  were  too  many  memories  latched  to  the  name  his  father  gave,  the  ones  that  haunted  him  on  good  and  bad  days.

❝  i’d  be  a  better  anything  than  you,  that’s  a  given.  ❞  he  sneers,  trying  to  keep  it  controlled,  not  giving  in  into  zane’s  viciousness.  ❝  my  people paved  the  way  for  your  type.  ❞

          BROKEN  BOYS  HERE  TO  stick  out  like  sore  thumbs  in  their  respective  groups  of  friends.  zane  should  know  better  than  to  play  with  fire,  but  so  should  romeo,  and  none  of  them  had  been  taught  anything  but  that  when  they  were  younger.  everything  is  a  battleground  for  warriors.

yul had never meant to let whatever they had between them to get this far, nonetheless continuously witness himself genuinely become more inclined to showcase softer emotions towards the other. there was something about him, something inside of him that made him want to reach out to caress his cheek whenever he saw him outside of the bedroom. it was an EMOTION that the male desperately craved to rid himself of. it was dangerous, enough to make him lightly smile when he saw the shirt fall out of zane’s grip.

heart only HAMMERED a bit faster in his chest as irises observed him lay down once again, yet this time the proximity between them close to nothing. ‘ the devil has nothin’ on me anyway, i’d fuckin’ school that bitch any day, ’ yul teased, hand reachin’ out to gently rest on the curve of his nude torso, ‘ eventually, but for now …. – lay with me. you look handsome in the morning. ’ voice groggy with slumber, his words came out slower than usual. 

           SOMETIMES  HE  LETS  HIS  mother’s  words  echo  within  the  hollow  cavity  where  his  heart  should’ve  been:  people  like  us  can’t  afford  love.  but  zane  feels  he  is  not  an  ahn  anymore,  not  the  way  he  used  to  be.  alienating  himself  from  his  family  name,  from  his  gang,  he  is  here  to  become  something  that  does  not  tie  him  down,  but  liberates  him.  he  wonders  if  this  is  where  it  starts.

     dean looked affectionately at his friend despite everything that had just happened. it was truly a miracle that the two decided to be EXTREMELY destructive at different times –– otherwise there would be major trouble. “come on,  you’re going to make me bail you out all the time ?”  dean poked fun. it’s not that he minded –– in fact he always enjoyed spending time with his best friend. “we should probably get out of here though. ACTUALLY, more like i should get you out of here. i think you hit him everywhere it hurts and i don’t think we need ANOTHER lawsuit.”

he’s starting to get panic sweats and he thinks if he barks out the nervous laugh bubbling up in his chest that it’ll turn into a sob. it’s an absolutely ridiculous sight and an irrational response to someone who is in the same friendgroup as he is. this is what he tells himself — that zane is a friend not a foe — and that if he did make teddy disappear, the others would become suspicious  ( maybe not of zane per se, but still suspicious enough ). 

teddy yells again, the end of the noise coming off in a nervous chuckle as he scoots back a little on the pavement.  ‘ zane, ’ he pleads,  ‘ buddy, pal — i can keep a secret. ’  no he couldn’t but zane didn’t need to know that.  ‘ you don’t need to do this, i have the memory of a gold fish. come tomorrow morning i won’t even know what we were talking about. ’ 

          HE’S  NOT  SURE  WHERE  this  fear  teddy  exudes  comes  from.  zane  has  never  hurt  him,  not  to  his  knowledge  anyway,  and  very  little  makes  it  likely  he  ever  will.  zane  has,  in  recent  years,  enjoyed  immense  respect  from  most  people  around  him,  but  this  wasn’t  respect  as  much  as  pure  horror.  whilst  entertaining  it  wasn’t  great  for  his  reputation.

⌜    *   .       ❛    @sacvio​    /      STARTER   !

                  the   presentation   of   a   challenge   was         always  a  surefire  way  to  peak  joo’s  interest.    a  natural   janus   :   junhee  had  spied  into  the  heart  of  him  once  and  only  grew  more  intrigued  since.    a  quiet  pretender  /  unless  she  prods,    and  joo  is  more  than  happy  to  do  just  that.    so  happy,   in  fact,   that  she’s  already  starting  off  her  saturday  heaving  him  along  to  the  nearest  shopping  district,  without  any  real  intent  of  buying  much.    instead,    her  singular  purchase  gets  held  up  in  a  final,    actual  explanation  of  what  exactly  they’re   doing   here,    dangling  the  tokens  ardently :

             ❛   guess  who's  about  to  drag  your  ass  across  a  whole  fucking  arcade  ?   this  bitch ,   that’s  who.     ❜

        ❝   i  was  headbanging  in  the  bathroom  and  hit  my  head  on  the  sink.  kinda  hot,  right  ?   ❞   purple  bruise  is  plastered  against  the  girl’s  forehead,  crooked  grin  on  her  lips.

        the  silence  isn’t  unbearable,  finds  the  presence  of  the  other  comforting  enough.  their  quiet  a  solace  to  one  another.  there’s  so  much  akira  goes  back  and  forth  on,  her  high  not  making  her  feel  so  high.  puts  it  down,  draws  the  bad  out  of  the  good  and  thoughts  are  found  to  lead  to  aimless  blaming,  whether  it  be  to  herself  or  others.  

        brown  curls  are  loose  over  the  line  of  jaw,  temple  rested  against  car  window.  there’s  an  empty  shrug  that  follows  zane’s  question.   ❝   every  single  day,   ❞   and  it’s  not  a  cry  for  help.  simply  a  reply,  wonders  what  life  was  really  like  when  you  weren’t  subjected  to  the  same  blank  faces.  faces  that  have  hurt  you,  that  have  babied  you,  that  have  RUINED  YOU.  would  flee  to  rome,  sweden  and  all  other  areas  of  the  world  that  drew  her  in.  there’s  so  much  to  explore,  vast  areas  that  will  never  be  touched  by  her.   ❝   every  day.   ❞

         THIS  IS  ABSURD  TO  him,  but  he  has  always  learned  that  business  comes  before  everything  and  so  he  stares  at  the  drink  in  his  hand  as  if  it  will  make  this  more  pleasant.

     he  hasn’t  seen  levi  in  a  long  time,  has  avoided  the  boy  the  best  he  could  and  levi  has  done  the  same.  he  doesn’t  fear  levi,  he  doesn’t  fear  what  he  knows  or  how  he’ll  use  it,  for  zane  knows  the  man  is  scared  of him  —  and  he  is  right  to  be.  one  word  slips  and  he  will  make  sure  levi  utters  no  word  ever  again,  but  somehow  he  knows  it  will  never  come  to  that.  they’re  both  walking  a  tightrope  and  they  both  want  to  continue  walking.

     «  i  won’t  tell  if  you  don’t,  »  he  says  when  levi  sits  down  next  to  him,  but  none  of  them  look  at  each  other.  stare  is  fixated  forward  on  nothing  in  particular  for  that  is  exactly  the  emptiness  zane  feels  —  unwilling  to  grasp  the  harsh  reality  he  lives  in.  this  would  devastate  them  both  if  it  got  out.

someone tell his mother he loves her, because teddy is going to die tonight. he really just yelled at zane — zane, who looks like he came straight out of a manga about a contract killer, who probably knows 50 ways to skin someone alive ( or at least teddy imagines he does ), who gives off the vibe of an actual bond villain — without really meaning to. maybe if he apologizes and begs for his life, he’ll make it quick. 

 as the other takes a step closer, teddy staggers back, tripping over his own feet and landing onto the cold hard pavement ass first. he sees zane speak again and he tilts his good ear towards his voice in time to catch the tail end of the sentence: you’re next.  ‘ WAIT ! ’  he screams, eyes bugging out and hand up, willing zane to stop.  ‘ i didn’t mean it — i mean, what guy ? i didn’t see a guy. did you see a guy ? because i totally didn’t see you punch someone in the face. ’

          THIS  IS  GETTING  RIDICULOUS,  but  zane  finds  himself  enjoying  it  nonetheless.  anyone  else  would’ve  called  his  bluff  by  now,  mostly  because  no  one  knew  what  the  man  was  capable  of,  and  whilst  teddy’s  genuine  fear  should’ve  almost  been  alarming  to  zane  he  finds  himself  amused  more  than  anything  else.  he  does  not  fear  what  teddy  can  do  if  he  knew.

how they tumbled into a situation as such was unbeknownst to him, had it originally begun as just an arrangement to get each other off, it slowly turned into more with each occasion. the craving for more: more of his attention, more of his time, more of his EVERYTHING had spiraled. yet, being who yul was  — -  he’d never let himself admit that aloud nonetheless encourage himself to delve into it. irises glanced over zane’s torso, wanting nothing more to reach out  &  run his fingertips down his spine.

‘ could be lingering in the arms of the DEVIL instead, surely mine is more warm, ’ the male is swift to retort before he collected himself, leaned up on his elbows. gaze flitted towards the one that he could feel burning through him, tongue flicked over his lesser lip  &  he nods once. ‘ don’t have to ask twice, if coffee is what you want then coffee is what you’ll get as soon as i find the will to leave the warmth of this bed. ’ a sliver of a smirk finds its’ way to the corner of his mouth.

          HE  SITS  THERE  WITH  his  shirt  in  his  hands,  just  seconds  away  from  following  through  with  his  plan  of  leaving  without  glancing  back.  still,  something  (  someone  )  keeps  him  in  the  warm  comfort  of  the  bed  and  zane  is  not  brave  enough  to  fight  it  now.  he  has  always  been  his  own  worst  enemy  so  he  lets  the  piece  of  clothing  fall  back  to  the  floor. 

“my daily intake’s like…six cups, most of the time? with shots of expresso too. ah – i couldn’t. that’s not really my thing.”

☆   ╱         𝙁𝙄𝙉𝙂𝙀𝙍𝙎  𝙏𝘼𝙉𝙂𝙇𝙀  𝙄𝙉  his  hair  in  a  manner  few  would  tell  she  was  able  of  –  with  care  and  tenderness,  comfort  spread  all  over  her  features  and  all  over  her  frame.  strangely  to  most,  that  was  what  zane  meant;  comfort,  the  known.  that  feeling  that  keeps  her  grounded  and  soothes  her  burned  patches.  his  apartment  is  familiar  to  her,  the  couch  she’s  sitting  on  and  the  weigh  of  his  head  against  her  thigh;  the  feeling  of  his  hand  against  her  skin,  the  warmth  of  his  body  close  to  hers.

comfort. 

her  eyes  have  been  glued  to  the  television  screen,  attentively  following  the  character’s  movements,  absorbing  the  story  as  if  she  hadn’t  watched  two  times  before  that  one.  at  his  words,  she  snorted  –  pulling  his  hair  softly  as  she  looked  down  at  him,  eyebrows  raised  ❝  you’re  not  even  paying  attention.  ❞  shaking  her  head,  she  took  the  blunt  from  his  fingers,  taking  a  long  drag  and  speaking  only  a  few  moments  later.  ❝  i’ll  let  you  change  only  if  you  have  a  better  suggestion  than  this.  ❞   

          THIS  IS  A  SOFTNESS  he  thinks  he  will  never  get  acquainted  with,  but  at  least  with  miso  he  thinks  he  can  almost  be  deserving.  they’re  phoenixes  birthed  from  the  same  ashes  and  somehow  there’s  a  place  for  both  of  them  here.  he  looks  her  in  the  eyes  and  sees  recognition  and  acknowledgement  without  the  judgement  and  he  can  tell  they  are  the  same  —  the  hurt,  all  the  unspeakable  things  no  one  will  ever  know.  zane  will  never  truly  know  miso,  and  he  is  okay  with  that.