continued / @bachyeâ
A simple question that can draw so many reactions from her. Chaeyeong could be silent for a few seconds, think of how sheâs actually feeling or she could instantly give the answer. This time, when the question is presented, she falls silent and stays quiet for a few seconds; not really knowing does she tell the truth or does she blatantly lie, not wanting him to worry.
Sheâs stressed, nervous and if her hands were on the table instead of hiding underneath it, everyone could have seen how sheâs playing with her fingers to try to calm down. It was a wrong day for her to be social, the morning already showed signs to her how she should stay inside and not even think of going outside. Actually, the night already was a clear sign for her to stay inside and sleep. Sheâs surprised how there arenât any dark circles underneath her eyes after the sleepless nights she has had.
âIâm good.â As soon as she says those words, she moves her hands underneath her thighs to stop herself from playing with them and she even forces a small, reassuring smile on her lips. âYou? I see your beard game is still going strong.â And just like that, sheâs trying to switch the attention from her to him.
     THIS CHARADE WAS OLD AS TIME. The wolf could practically taste her brimming tension, jitters easily hidden like a card drawn from the play, sheâd done this before. At every corner of this world he found another almost as broken, lost despite a bought misconception of happiness having been achieved. Somewhat. Too many people were good at this game, pretense eaten for breakfast and swallowed by the tears telling the same tale. Was he to tell her she could confide in him? That perhaps whatever made her sullen so had no qualms with her bright future? No, he couldnât know any of this. No one did. Such were the ways of this human life.
     HER STRESS BEGAN TO AFFECT HIM. Reminding gritted wounds that sorrow was just one thought away from collapsing, no matter how many inhales were taken, sometimes death tasted sweeter than this. He sighs ever slowly, exasperated almost yet concern overwhelmed foreign features, an inner debate still attempting to compress the words which truly wanted to be spoken. âGood, huh..â He states to himself, murmurs phasing into curls habitually tucked behind an ear and at her words, Kit instinctively feels the hairs close to needing a trim. Itâs not that he wanted to ignore her, but ignoring what was truly going on inside her seemed like a worse choice to begin with.
     âDonât do that..â
     âDonât pretend.. nothing getâs better if you do.â












