♣ ☠️
Send a symbol for Cường's reaction to...: (No longer accepting.) ♣ ☠️: Discovering him crying/ Pushed against a wall.
His body rebels.
It's always like this. After every full moon, he always fights, ravaged. He's always pulled taut.
God, it's devastating. He can break, cruel and slow.
And yet, for all of this impossibility – unspeakable, perhaps even unbearable – Yeongmi's made to watch. Wordless, he decides she's found herself. I'm sorry, he'd croak, but his voice would've, could've, undoubtedly pierced her. Still, she'd entered his quiet dwelling, shadows steeped thickly with the drawing of the curtains, and should've wondered faintly why the air smelled strong. 'I'm here,' she might've called, soft into the quiet. And when no words? Panic. When he cries? Fear.
But, then, you always knew something was very off with that boy, didn't you? a despicable voice drawls. It drips, all hate and gold, thick in her skull for days to come. You've met me, after all. Look at you... You'd look pretty trembling like a leaf...
Huh. Tell me, woman, are you going to cry?
Maybe. Who knows, but what of it? Leave her. Let her weep alone, unbothered! Undisturbed!
Quickly, she'd followed that strained whimper. The bedroom, it must've barreled from, far down the hall. The doorknob was there taunting her to twist it, to peer deep inside to chance its horrors. Take them. Trump them, brave and true. And I warned you, but go in and ruin yourself, woman. Weep yourself stupid. Destroy yourself for me. I like them blubbering, anyway. I'd like you huffing. I imagine you raw. No. Quiet. She'd reached out, stirred by some unknown bravery – sudden, welled in the seat of her gut – and god, no, the way the scene unravels...!
He was right, of course. That beast was right.
Cường struggles. Cường's crying. He sees her, dreaming, tender Cường, but through the clench of his jaw, he can't peep a word. No, not a one, but instead he smolders terribly away – hot, red up the bobbing of his throat – and tumbles weak-kneed, the wall to his left.
It's unsightly, pathetic in fact, but it's him, writhing and desperate, and Yeongmi rushss forward, hands at his waist.
He sweats feverish. He looks at her. "I-" Hurt. I'm shaking. You should've knocked before you came here today, but you're fond of me, I know. You like me. You're reckless. He's bare above his waist, marks scarred waspishly up his belly, and the candlelight glow throws them in contrast. He croaks, muscles stretching at his skin. He collapses into her, and she pushes him back. I have you, she pushes. Don't fall. Don't–
"Cry. Don't cry for me. I can't–" have that. Handle that. That's all he manages when he gazes upon her, teary-eyed, cheeks flushed, before he shudders, nails scrabbling at the bones of her back. He breaks. He clings, body wrecked savage, but even with his pain, it's her, her, her.
She holds him careful, sweetheart shattering. And maybe, heart to his, she might be, too.
