SKIN TO SKIN / WITH YOU AT DAWN

absentmindedly she turned her attention toward him and blinked once, then twice in surprise, hoping that the haziness inside of her mind would quickly vanish with each new blink. ’’what? colors? why? not that i can really recall. but to be fair, i rarely refusing to do anything... oh well.’’ she stopped, midway lost in her thoughts, as she took a quick peek at the dress she wore. ‘’yeah, not really. i’m pretty happy with the current color pallet in my closet. but are you actually trying to imply something else with your question? perhaps i just don’t see it? are you trying to say that certain colors don’t actually fit me? huh, maybe you’re not mistaken, but i really can’t be the judge of that. it has been scientifically proven that we all perceive ourselves in a different way than others perceive us. i never really thought about it too much, but i’m certainly thinking about it now.’’ 

‘‘shhh,’’ sora gently shushed him as she placed her index finger on her lips, giving him a clear indicator that he was talking too much. by now the glass of wine in her hands was replaced by a cigarette and a vintage lighter, and after taking a moment to properly observe his face she lit her cigarette in just the blink of an eye. she wasn’t addicted. she could stop at any moment. it’s just that she didn’t want to stop. sora took a long drag on her cigarette and exhaled elegantly, almost like she was lost in some old neo-noir film shot decades ago. ‘’would you care for one?’’ she queried, pointing at the pack she had left on the bar. but despite her offer, she knew that she owed him an answer. so her following words slipped out seamlessly, ‘’ah yes, the question. i almost forgot. these cigarettes are so good, they could make your forget pretty much anything.’’ 

‘‘look, yongjin,’’ she fell silent for a moment to take another puff of her cigar, then continued in a softer, more contemplative voice. ‘‘i think you should act in the way you think is the best one. asking you to behave in a certain manner wouldn’t be very wise and that’s not something that i want to do. to you.’’ she clicked her tongue against her palate, the corners of her mouth turning upward. what she wanted and what she needed were two strikingly different things. ‘‘i think you’re only making this uncomfortable by asking such questions. and what is balance in life? what would be the perfect balance between you and i? do you have any ideas? please do share your thoughts.’’ 

‘‘am i being nice to you?’’ starting things off with a counter-question seemed like the most reasonable thing to do at that moment. was she truly being beyond nice to him? no such thoughts had occur to her prior to this conversation, but perhaps everyone had their own definition of the word nice. however, even a slight peek at her kaleidoscope eyes was enough to reveal sparks of bewilderment mixed with curiosity in them. she gave herself the liberty to observe him a little, only for a few brief and fleeting seconds, and she looked at him like one would look at a caravaggio painting; with meticulous focus on the intense chiaroscuro.

‘‘what others do is none of my interest really. i do not know why they harbor such hatred, but you’ve given me no reason to despise you. maybe the fact that you wish to put me in a basket with all the others could be one of those reasons.’’ despite the alcohol in her system she felt rather sober which to her seemed like a pretty strange occurrence. was bad alcohol the main culprit? or perhaps the satisfaction that came when one finally spoke the truth? whatever it was, it was enough to sober her up. 

‘‘they say that some people choose to see the ugliness in this world and nothing else but that very same ugliness. they cling to it like it's their only life-line. but not me. never me. i choose to see the beauty and i know true beauty when i see it. but don't let it get to your head, i’m not talking about your face or any other physical aspect. sometimes i just choose to see the best in people, the very beauty that others blatantly ignore. i know valuable things when i spot them. it’s a family thing actually.’’ and it really was. she got her mother’s eternal beauty and her mesmerizing eyes that could drive a person to the point of madness, but the wish to see the best in people came only from her father.

there’s a reason why one should never ask questions regarding delicate matters, for their ears and heart ought to end up disappointed. sometimes even broken. 

she gritted her teeth in a rather unladylike manner, which was the first indicator that something just didn’t feel quite right. but she was shin sora after all, the trickster among tricksters and in just a few moments she regained her usual statuesque composure, looking as charming as ever with a glass of whiskey in her hands this time around. 

a boy-sheep who wishes to run with the wolves, but the mask sadly doesn’t fit. you’ve spent too much time in your gilded cage and now you don’t know what rust tastes like. too naive if you really trust someone like me. you’re supposed to see through people. so am i that good of a magician or are you just bad at what you do? 

but her red lips did not part. they remained sealed, keeping the sudden hurricane of thoughts neatly hidden inside her pretty little skull. what an ache it was to face them all now. placing her delicate hand on his, she gave him an apologetic smile out of shame for letting her thoughts run wild. ’’you’re a, dare i say, a very very interesting person. not just interesting, but you’re also kind and i think you have a heart that could offer a home to all those who never had it, those who seek a friend and something to call their own.’’ 

she was good with words, the one thing no one could take away from her, but surprisingly she felt no urge to lie. not too much at least. a little bit of sugarcoating was always necessary. ’’you have a golden soul, minjae.’’

[ enter a girl holding a glass or red wine, a girl staring hopelessly at the crimson liquid in hopes of getting an epiphany. ] 

his curiosity was almost admirable. pandora had similar tendencies, did she not? but she had left ruin in her wake, a clear warning sign and reminder to all the other prying strangers. it was almost admirable, but for most parts sora was rather disappointed. did he really take her for a fool? she brought one hand to her neck, soft fingertips playing with white pearls that went perfectly with her dress. her secrets were like those very same pearls, rip one out and the rest would scatter all across the floor, forever lost out of her reach. did he really expect a few drinks would have such impact on her? a trained professional? it would take a lot more than just alcohol to make her talk of such things. 

‘‘what makes you think i’m hiding something?’’ she offered him a question instead of even a half-lie, her lower lip quivering in a state of half agony and half surprise. the drinks were no truth serums, but instead they awoke a different side of sora. a prideful and bitter side, partly furious and partly sad. why did he want to know? what difference did it make? ‘‘i’m an open book, hajoon. all you have to do is read.’’ but certain pages were torn out, missing, never to found again. ‘‘i don’t understand and quite frankly it’s almost insulting when i have to deal with such questions. your question is just an improved way of calling me a liar.’’ i am liar and i’m better at it than you. but she knew when to stop, to keep her tongue in its place. say just a little too much and then risk losing a lot. 

‘‘i know there’s something that you’re not telling to me, too. i can see it in your eyes sometimes,’’ she clutched the glass with all her might - practically to the point of breaking while the red liquor danced around from one side to another. ‘‘i think there’s someone calling you in the back.’’ translation; i think you should leave me now. but instead she stood up. 

(( @nskwon ))

while gripping a russian crystal glass filled with chilled champagne ( a type of glass that seemed over-decorated and a type of glass that would make most faint upon seeing the actual price ), sora slowly moved through a dense crowd of half-familiar faces, subtly keeping her forever curious eyes on those she knew. she pranced around proudly - like she truly belonged among all those high class gentlemen and their pompous wives adorned with the most beautiful jewelry. she even looked like she was one of them. her once brown and long strands of hair were now replaced by blonde, almost icy, curls. it was a golden crown resting atop her head. a true queen among mortal men and women, she really looked at most like they were nothing more but some dirt stuck to the bottom of her shoes. 

her silver dress glistened underneath the bright crystal chandeliers as well as her pretty jewelry, but the white fur wrapped around her shoulders was the last piece of the extravagant puzzle. russians were known for their decadent and opulent way of living, a sort of wealth that was hard to find. even sora behaved differently around those people. maybe because around them she was no sora, but a mysterious heiress called matryoshka. any and every trace of the real sora was now gone, long forgotten and omitted. like the forever sweet and compassionate brunette never excited in this world. 

she first approached a group of three women dressed in the finest silk, kissing each one three times on their powdered cheeks, greeting them in the politest way and never once taking a smile off her stunning face. she had met them in an opera house two years ago, but for the sake of her role she had to be well-familiar with the real elite.  matryoshka was a work of fiction, but in order to make her come alive it was necessary to mix fiction with reality. the more the better. 

(( @nsjaehyun ))

restless, restless, she had always been so restless, even in situations that didn’t require such a convenient trait for a special agent. while the half of the, if not the whole, city was in a deep slumber, sora was on her feet, aimlessly going from room to room in her apartment and trying to find something to take her mind off the fact that it was already three am. three am and not even once did she managed to properly close her eyes and rest her weary body for a second. it was excruciating and she had tried everything, but sleep simply refused to come to sora. however her apartment, despite being her main living place for more than two years now, was still rather empty and thus even finding distractions became a challenge for the willowy brunette.

she had her bed and paintings and most of the time a woman like her didn’t need more. but even the paintings were forgotten in the dark shadows, stacked and buried one beneath the other; a grave of fine art and vintage frames. all the dust made it even worse, but she rarely had time for cleaning. or for that matter - energy. instead of cleaning and reorganizing her apartment, she had tried getting back to her old passion. somehow in the sea of all the paintings she managed to find an empty canvas and some old acrylic paint, but of course after not being used for so long it was way too dry and downright useless. 

 she searched again, but without much surprise, she only came face to face with more disappointment. around four am, she became far more agitated and not even cigarettes were of much help. she stood on her balcony in a nightgown with a cigar in her hand, gritting her pearl white teeth and trying her very best to ignore the cold wind. she had no rules against smoking in her own apartment, but watching the glimmering city lights was to a moderate extent calming. the balcony was her favorite place and no heat or cold would ever stop her from enjoying in that.