#gondryque

the secrets you tell me i’ll take to my grave.

i know that you love me,  even when i lose my head.

MEME: ANON HOUR.↳ STATUS: Open!

You have one hour to ask me anything, and I must answer no matter how personal it is.

Weary eyes lift to her dimly lit countenance. It took him a moment to process that the words left her lips, not his. He was more than certain he had said the same thing to another person at one point in his life, for this was his own philosophy refined through the passage of time. Being on the receiving end was new to him, an experience he was currently processing through his muddled mind. Images of the faces whom he reiterated the same concept to flashes in his thoughts and he is hit with an unnamable force. The closest thing he can associate it with was mild guilt. Did it hurt the others when he did this? Did he mean to hurt them? His intention was always set on saving them a world of agony and melancholy. Exposure to his world meant the infections it festered. No person deserved that. He didn’t deserve anyone. 

Yet he remains mildly pained at how she so blatantly held him at arms length. It roused something within him. 

“That’s my fuckin’ line,” he says in between a genuine laugh. Oh, how the tables have turned. He turns back to the quiet city life below them, muted by their distance from the chaos. Neon lights flicker on and cars zip by with their destinations in mind. He rubs his eyes and thinks about an excuse he can tell her to go slip away and smoke a joint for a minute or two. A sigh escapes his form and he takes a moment to gather his thoughts, and he does what none of the people who heard these words did to him: he was going to fight. 

In the middle of the night, when everyone was asleep, the stars were shining brightly in the sky. No artificial light to hide their glow. Mihyun laid down there all alone on the rooftop, slowly losing her senses, her rationality now she was on her own. During the day, everything seemed easy and full of joy but now, she wished to stay awake to avoid the reality she kept for herself. They loved her and she entertained them in any way she could, a circle she fell in when she dedicated her entire life to music. Play for everyone, play for them who want to listen for their existence is miserable without your sweet, sweet melody.

Steps broke the silence around her and her alone time was over but she refused to move, maybe the stranger would leave, maybe not. When he made his way next to her, Mihyun knew her moment of tranquility wouldn’t return anytime soon. Her sudden nostalgia left her, it wasn’t time to cry over peaceful moments that once existed.  “If we stay in the past, there’ll be no future left to waste.”  She heard him clearly and she knew he was right. Yet, no one could ignore a bleeding wound forever. For someone like her, someone playing with faith & destiny endlessly, crying over the past was ridiculous, almost irrelevant. The sight of the sky now felt horrendous, the stars were a trace of the past. A past they never knew. Mihyun stood up, her steps making no sound as she walked. “I wonder what’s in your mind.” The air felt cold against her legs, setting up the same feeling as the atmosphere between the pair. Pouting her lips, she couldn’t find any concern or importance towards him. Earlier, the cards whispered to her she shouldn’t be too kind to him as she didn’t know who he was at all. Yet she’d rather see what he had in mind than going back to her absurd mourning. “Who hurt you, what tortured you… ” She was speaking in riddles for no reason, their encounter was nothing but a mere way to kill time, to chase the bad thoughts away. “You sound reasonable but I can’t trust a simple sentence like this.” Her arms crossed behind her back, her eyes lost on the buildings in front of her. A childish grin started to grow on her face. “If you don’t accept your past, you won’t be able to see your future.”

he had stirred awake in fright. his limbs were a tangled mess of blue sheets, and his skin seemed translucent. there was no telling what he had been frightened of. perhaps it had been the way the Devil himself was alive in his dreams, or the way his mother’s back had seemed so blurry. so small. similar to a worn, faded picture kept hidden for much too long between the pages of a book. in his sudden damnation of the world and God and himself, he had set off towards rooftop in search of gentle quiet. he knows never to expect much from the city. as a boy who loved the emptiness of a farm more than the fullness of clustered buildings, he knew where he could seek solitude and where he could not.

this is how he meets her, with his thoughts seeping forth from his fingers, and trembling in his paper-like bones.

what he says is unexpected. he has to close his eyes and press his shaking palms to his face just to realize what he’s said. then he squeezes his hands together, so tight his fingertips go red, too red; and suddenly it feels as though all the world were in that single light in the far distance, from an apartment in which its inhabitant houses a restless soul. “oh. too much.” he breathes out, a smile bordering on timidness stretching across his lips. he doesn’t look at her. he’s not sure if he ever looks at her. the boy has always found it strange to look straight into the eyes of a stranger as they speak. nothing out of humility or anxiety or pride-- rather, he had always felt as though, to look into someone’s eyes as they spoke their heart would be much too similar as looking into their soul. it always felt much too intimate. “why would you wanna know ? i’m not anybody important. i’m like-- like--” he suddenly points towards the sky, his eyes wide. “like one of ‘em stars up there. too small. too damn small.” he closes his fist, his fingers curling around a small group of dead light. he keeps it there, for a few seconds, then drops his hand and finally turns to look at her. 

working after midnight had it’s ups and downs. for aiden, the latter was pretty much overwhelming. it’s been about an hour since she had seen someone entered the convenience store. she was bored, left with nothing to do but to stare at the window blankly. another ten minutes passed by, and another sigh escaped past her lips. she was about to grab her rubix cube from the drawer (for awhile there, she actually forgot she had one), just to let time pass but then before she even manage to, she heard the sound of the door, an indication that someone actually came in-- fucking finally.

“may i help--” before she could even finish her sentence, she cut herself off upon seeing the customer. “oh-- it’s you.” she couldn’t even stop herself from smiling in that moment. she wouldn’t lie though-- the woman’s frequent visit has been a part of her day. aiden’s day felt incomplete whenever she doesn’t see the woman. “what do you need this time?” she asked with a quirked brow.

the great gatsby sentence meme || accepting.

for a woman, twenty three years of age, she speaks like she carries the weight of the world on her shoulders.

he studies her when she’s distracted: the stiffness in her shoulders, the callous words, the hardness in her gaze; he sees it all, commits it to memory. there’s something not quite like her. behind her sharpness of her tongue lies a delicateness he can’t explain. she’s soft despite the strong front she puts forth, and it fascinates him beyond measure. the curiosity shows itself as a form of protectiveness.

there are two people in this world that he strives to protect; mihyun is one of them.

she complains that he’s a little too over-protective, but he sees her as the little sister that he never had. ( clearly, she’d also argue that he has a younger biological sister, but, to him at least, blood’s never been thicker than water. ) they bicker and tease each other like siblings would, with jhin making fun of her every chance he has. it’s usually followed with a beating that leaves him sore for days, but the way she sets aside her maturity during those moments of pure childishness is worth the pain.

but there are times like this, where heaviness settles between them, and silence looms. he’s not the kind of person you’d like to hold a serious conversation with— he’s foolish in that way, despite his tact for observation. she’s been distant lately, and it has not escaped him. glassiness in her eyes, the long gazes out of the window, letting her tea growing cold. for someone as tightly wound as she is, it’s been getting easier to read her. but when she finally speaks, he’s stunned, once again, into quietness.

“you see, i usually find myself among strangers because i drift here and there trying to forget the sad things that happened to me.”

his throat grows dry. it’s so her to articulate something like this, but so incredibly foreign simultaneously. he can’t quite grasp the context, or what she’s referring to exactly, but his first instinct is always to joke.

“when did you become a fifty year old woman with an unpaid mortgage and twenty seven cats for sympathy?”

he’s an idiot, to put it lightly. he realises this when her gaze remains impassive and she doesn’t move to hit him like she usually would have. he heaves a sigh, not because he doesn’t like being this serious with her, but because of his own stupidity. words are not his forte, and probably will never grow to be. instead, he gathers her in his arms— something he knows will bring her more comfort than any of his mismatched phrases and incoherent rambling. it’s all he can offer while he weighs his next words carefully on the tip of his tongue.

“… i still think think you’re fifty”, she glares up at him. he smiles knowingly. “not in a bad way per se, but worrisome, definitely worrisome.” his eyes settle on her before he’s continuing, “you carry the past around like lost baggage; past expectations, past aspirations, past relationships. they’re called memories for a reason, little mouse. there is only so much you can take before the sadness swallows you whole.”

his expression grows thoughtful as he continues. “you’re a lot like me, in a way. not the sadness, god not the sadness, but the drifting. it’s easier like that, i know. but at the end of the day, when you plow through all these faceless strangers, you need somewhere— or people to go back to.”

he pauses when he realises that he’s being too serious, cracking a wide, goofy smile in place of his usual lightheartedness. “i can be your anchor, y’know? dragging you down and drowning you— but also keeping you grounded. there are people that will be constant in your life, and i hope to be one of them… no matter how hard you try to get rid of me. i’m ridiculously stubborn, and will not hesitate to latch onto you like some sort of leech.”