#3012v

the source of jisoo’s aches and injuries so early in the hour? the lump currently curled under the covers, sleeping soundly----but not for long.

jisoo’s already let himself into the room, steps muffled by the thick, expensive carpet, as he sets taehyung’s still warm, freshly pressed outfit onto the hook outside of his ornately decorated closet door. pouring out a mug of tea from the pot he’d had shoved into his hands by someone in the kitchens, he sets it onto the nightstand by the young master’s bed.

a resigned sigh, he smooths his combed back hair one more time before grabbing the side of each curtain with his hand. jisoo revels in a few more heartbeats of blissful, peaceful, silence, but then---

“good morning, doryeonnim!”

with a sharp pivot of his heel, he heads towards the bed, where there’s more movement than before. he braces himself for the resistance, and starts tugging at the blanket, one hand alternating out in front of the other, leaning back with his weight to give his movement some added strength. there’s a pool of blanket starting to form at his feet, and jisoo continues to speak--loudly.

“it’s time to wake up! your parents expect you downstairs for breakfast in forty-five minutes! ...please stop kicking!”

* five word prompts : closed

[ 가을: ] at this very moment, the boy is in deep contemplation with brows furrowed together in symmetry, top thirds of features disclosing behind the book held in single hand. yes, of course, he is always drowning in his own reverie, but the difference here is that this matter is one more pivotal than any other. one’s philosophy in life, of life, is as exclusive as one’s thoughts unrevealed, and he has no regrets on his past notions and philosophies ; that, he can say with much conviction.

now, the difference is that such conception is in ever changing currents for him, the other boy in front of him being the catalyst. as he reads more and more, he grows, and it stirs his fad for adorning the euphoria that subsists whenever he’s laughing, running, crying, and drawing breath with the other. how can he achieve such, not just in the present, but evermore?

“wow, are sudden confessions your thing? in that case, i believe it’s working pretty well.” lethargically dropping his reply, he also drops the book in his hands to playfully enact a clench on his chest. more benumbed than in a stalemate of sentiments, so to say. the question in retrospect is answered when taehyung throws him what he is most inept at returning, yet it gives him that ardor, willingness to do one’s part. “love you too man. i prove it by sitting my ass here, studying, so i can horse around with you in university, ‘till doomsday.”

@3012v​

“i dreamed of you, too.”

there are times when she believes this to be an illusion. as if dreams are anything but the hazy cloud of thoughts lazily strung together in your subconscious: wishes and dreams, hopes and fears. taehyung and his bare feet, flying through the grass. “i dreamed of you again, too.” of course she did. the images replay on loop, a flipped nightmare where the sun shines as bright as the crystal clear water at the bottom of the cliff when he jumps— she closes her eyes and he is still there; running, running, running.

* soft angst starters!

“y’know, taehyung… i think i’d know that better than anyone else, or you, for that matter.”

inwoo stalls. he stalls because… let’s see. no, it’s not because he is scared of spirits, because then it’d be an equivalent to a normal (not that inwoo deems himself abnormal, but basing it on popular belief–––) person looking at a flying litter on the pavement and going off the deep end. inwoo is only scared of confirmations on hazy red lights, when in fact he wishes it to be orange instead. simply put, he stands grounded before the rocky pathway down the mountain because taehyung also senses the same eerie boding along the setting sun. validations on superstitious qualms were always, without a doubt–––unsettling.

“i personally think you should worry about yourself first, dude. it’s not like you’re used to getting love from angsty spirits on the daily, which is… myself.” he squints an eye at the stroke of sunlight in deep crimson, and puts a second thought into the possibility of making down the trail before the sunset. questionable. a chill streams down his spine, and inwoo does nothing but what he always ends up doing: sucking it up like a big boy.

iv. 

별 의미 없는 수다 였다. “이래도 형은 내가 좋아요?” 방금 일어나, 머리와 옷이 엉망인채 나를 보며 미소를 주는 그를 보며, 웃음을 감출수 없었다. “늦잠을 오후 두시 까지 자도? 내 머리에 새가 집 지어 놓고 가도? 입 냄새 나도? 가끔 얄밉고, 미워도?” 

“응.” 

깊은 생각을 하듯이 그는 머리를 오른족으로 까딱, 왼쪽으로 까딱한다. “뭐가 그렇게 좋지. 알수가없어. 이해가 안가.” 

앉아 있었던 소파에서 일어나 그에게로 갔다. “네 눈이 좋아.” 

따스한 손으로 그의 두 눈을 가렸다. “네가 날 보는 그 눈이 좋아.”  

vi. 

“기다리라고 했잖아.” 그를 탓하는 내 말에 그는 아무 말도 하지 않았다. “태형아.” 내가 들어도 그의 이름을 부르는 난 죽도록 애달프다. “조금만 기다려 달라고 했잖아.”

“한 번이라도... 형이 되어 보고 싶었어요.” 그의 눈을 찾으려 헤맨다. “매년 마다, 똑같은 시간에, 지겹도록 똑같은 장소에, 똑같은 마음으로 앉아서, 내가 올지 안 올지, 이번년도 같을지 않을지. 한 번이라도 형의 그 심정이 어떤 건지, 알고 싶었어요.” 지금 떨어저 있는 많지도 않은 몇 거리를 못 놔두고 한 걸음씩, 천천히, 그에게 다시 걸어갔다.

“그래서.”

눈이 떨어지듯 그의 몸이 떨린다. “그래서. 그래서, 기다렸는데,” 눈이 떨어지듯 내가 그도록 좋아하는 그의 목소리까지 떨린다. “기다렸는데...” 그의 눈이 나를 담을땐, 신의 놀이 처럼 갑자기 눈이 멈치고 떨어지는 것은, 언제나 그러듯이, 나의 심장이다. “형이 나를 다시 찾지 않을까봐 두렵다가, 시간이 나를 잡아 먹을거 같아서 무섭다가, 이 무거운 심정이 형에게 몇 칠 후 다가온다는 걸 생각하다가 지쳤어요.”

내가 그토록 좋아 하는 그 두 눈으로 그가 나를 볼때, 숨이 안 쉬어진다. “너무 힘들었어요.”

눈을 마주칠때, 내 시선은 흐트러짐 없이 잔잔히 그에게 줬다. “많이 무서웠겠네.” 팔을 들어 그를 감샀다. 내 품 안에만 꼭 가둬 놀것 처럼. “많이 힘들었겠네.” 이상하게도, 이 말들이 익숙했다. “내가 잘못했네. 내가 잘못했어, 태형아.” 꼭 어떤 다른 세상에서 내가 말했듯이. “여기서도.”

눈이 다시 떨어 진다.

drabble for @3012v, from xstatus: ¼, still acceptingnotes: 2016년에 레몬님이 태형이의 생일기념으로 써주신 글의 2편?으로 써봤어요 ㅠ 한글로 글쓴지 너무 오래되서 대사만… 양해 부탁드립니다… 레몬느님 사랑합니다…

the sun hangs low in the seoul sky, glowing like an ember amidst the smoky purple clouds as the horizon swallows it whole. sua tugs her parka firmly around her torso, shuddering against the unforgiving january wind. it’s been nearly three years since sua’s returned to seoul, and in those two years, she’s never quite learned to deal with the freezing walk from the ballet to the subway station in the wintertime.

there’s a park that she always walks through on her way to and from the subway, a long stretch of land beautiful in its own right throughout the seasons. in the winter, the whole park is frosted with glassy ice and fluffy, white snow, like a scene from a snow globe. she’s usually the only person trudging through the slushy snow on the pavement and leaving little footprints in the frosty grass, but today is different. not so far away, a boy sits on a small wooden bench, looking up at the golden sky as if waiting for something to happen. she registers his side profile as vaguely familiar.

he reminds her of paris, of running through spring rain, of a bouquet of baby’s breath crushed to her chest after a performance. she recalls the flavor of the strawberry cake that melted in her mouth, and the sound of laughter that made her smile too. kim taehyung.

“저기요, 혹시 김태형..?” she asks timidly, her voice fading into nothingness as she approaches the boy. he looks at her half-lidded, the ruby light of sunset lighting up his features. it’s taehyung. he looks older, somewhat. he still has a boyish look about him, but the way he carries himself feels different now.

“수아누나?”

“와, 정말 너였네!” she gasps, a grin stretching from ear to ear. she grabs his hands, swinging them excitedly. “와, 진~짜 오랜만이다. 몇년만이냐? 잘지냈지? 학교는 다니니? 나 다음주에 공연있는데, 올래? 아, 너 아직 발레에 관심 있을려나?”

taehyung can’t do anything but laugh as sua barrages him with endless questions. there is so much that she wants to ask him, so much that she’s still curious about, but she settles on one last question as she sits down next to him.

“밖에 추운데 쓸쓸맞게 뭐하냐?” it’s a genuine question, and the one she’s most curious about; she never sees anyone just sitting around in the park in the dead of winter.

“아, 뭐, 그냥…” he looks down at the pavement, shrugging as he toes a piece of ice aside.

“야, 근데, 나 한국 돌아와서 너 엄청 많이 찾았는데! 내가 너 연락한다고 했잖아,” she says with a frown.

“나 찾았어요?” his eyes are bright with something that sua can’t quite put her eyes on, something equal parts melancholy and overly grateful. it makes her want to cry, just a little bit.

“으이구, 그래. 아무리 찾아봐도 없길레 난 네가 또 여행간줄 알았네,” she laughs, elbowing him playfully.

“헤헤.”

as the conversation tapers off, sua breathes hot air onto her numb hands, watching as the white fog of her breath momentarily obscures taehyung’s features. it’s only then that she really takes in the sight of taehyung’s nose and cheeks, bitten red by an hour too many out in the cold.

“그런데 너 지금까지 여기 혼자 앉아있었니?”

he laughs softly, a single breath puffing out into the frigid air.

“뭐, 항상 혼자죠.” he pauses. then, sotto voce as he looks into his lap, “보고싶었어요, 누나.”

“…너 우니?”

“아니거든요!” he mumbles sulkily, glancing up at her with teary eyes. she recognizes that look on his face. it’s the look of abject loneliness; she knows because she used to see it in the mirror when taehyung left paris. she doesn’t like seeing it on someone as bright as the sun itself.

“미안해.” is the only thing she can offer to him as solace. she wraps her arms around him so his head rests against the crook of her neck. something inside him must give way, because he’s clutching fistfuls of her coat in his hands and his lean frame shakes as he sniffles quietly.

she thinks she knows. what it’s like to be so lonely, that is. what it’s like to be lost and found.

late night self reflective asks 🌙  x. // not accepting

11-11: what’s something you want, but feel like you will never have?

* sentence starters : closed

( ‘ 가을 : )  “and that was the best topic for a conversation you could come up with? during a date? gee whiz, my friend.”  gaeul stabs at the piece of cake, hauling a deflated chuckle at taehyung’s rather somber update. “so did ‘ya also inform her on how we were basically together 24/7, 365 days a year? ‘cause that must’ve really rounded up more brownie points for ‘ya, y’know…”  gaeul adds a bit of more laughter, brows curving downwards due to his stifled frenzy. while exhaling a sudden redolence of rain-soaked asphalts, he also recalls the nippy breeze of their most unfettered times; laughters and prattles of their fellow schoolmates were often times so far, far away from them that it seemed as if those moments were overmuch ephemeral to be deemed as mere rebellions of gutsy teenagers. 

and perhaps, taehyung is the reason why gaeul’s still here: fractured by stealth, but not completely broken.