The smoke escaped her rosy and plump lips when she let out a sigh, making sure it wouldnât go right to the taller womanâs face, when she looked over at her and then toward her own hands. Sunhee pressed the filter of the cigarette with two of her fingers before squeezing what was left of it against the railing that as in front of them. Soon after, she leaned her arms against it, to be able to see under the bridge they were standing on. Cars, cars and cars, no more than that. The noises were loud and they had to speak a little louder than they normally would. But those words⊠They held a deep, strong meaning for her, so she didnât need to her hear them to know what the other was saying. She had never heard them from the people she had to leave behind, though, but her mind would always scream them at her. Nothing lasts forever.
A faint smile curved on her mouth, not a sweet or joyful one. It was bitter, to the point of feeling her features burn right in that moment. That was a bittersweet experience for her, just like any meeting or relationship she had. The thought of having to leave her behind at some point, just like everybody else creeped on every corner of her troubled mind, but she shoved it aside, every single time. She let out a frustrated huff, rubbing her cheeks with her palms rather roughly, but not enough to hurt herself. She was getting sad and frustrated, and it was all her fault for starting such topic with the female.
â Sometimes I wish at least something would last longer than what Iâm used to. â Sunhee expressed lowly, but she was sure the woman heard her because she could see her staring silently, from the corner of her eyes. Quickly she turned her face and flashed a wide grin. So fake, that she felt ashamed right after, but she couldnât care less. It was something she had to face if she wanted to keep a good friendship with the young lady, whoâs expression was confusing because of Sunheeâs weird acting.
â At some point, we will be strangers again. As if we never existed for one another. â
Hana couldnât help it. The words emit out of her lips effortlessly, giving a piece of her thought to another. One that she had to learn and understand the most difficult way possible, she didnât want to think that. That âforeverâ was an overused word that was created by someone who had faith in something. The way young lovers would tell their significant other during a moment of tranquility, when the setting was right. The brunette was like that, had that exact mindset that forever was something she could hold on to with someone she used to adore. It doesnât last that long, itâs practically non-existent. The aroma of smoke surfaces the air, capturing it when her chest rises when she breathes it in contently.
When comforting others, it was never warm. People never wished for the comfort Hana gives to another because there was no point in doing things, saying words when they didnât want to hear it but need to. Was she apologetic for being honest? Never. It was better than bottling it up, coiled around regret for not speaking any sooner than she should have. So sheâs saying it now, speaking towards the latter who was right besides her. Elbow pressed against the cool railing she could barely feel due to the fitting long sleeve that hugged her petite frame.
That smile, fuck. Hana resembles a piece of herself in the way those lips stretched out, displaying no sincere emotions of happiness. Because she knows how painful it was, to deal with the pain from within and things that she wanted to keep for so long, eventually vanished. Itâs a little terrifying to think about as well, knowing one day -- sooner or later, things wonât be the same like the day before.
âAnd thatâs the sad thing about beinâ too close to people, because itâs bound to hurt to say goodbye. Right?â Then again, Hana doesnât know which hurt more. Hearing it or never receiving it.
