#hdxbullet

No one can taste bitterness in your mouth like you do, nor notice how often your chest feels unwieldy at every single breath you take. Inhale, Inhale the air as if the oxygen will cease and you will hit the gravity zero point alone, holding expectations for none other than yourself to swirl you off onto your feet, to be your own hero as you crawl out of the hurricane prone area that seems to surround you daily.

Quietness, calmness, freshness. Sometimes, you do not need an ending to realize that you could use a new beginning, and it was in moments like those that you realize – remember, in reality – that solitude doesn’t necessary equals loneliness and that even wildfires required a cooling period and oxygen or it won’t burn to the core.

                                 At least, that seems like a universal truth if he is by your side.

Unfamiliar to the conservative meaning of friendship, even secretive, if labels were necessary, yet he has seen a lot more of the depths of the darkest places your mind often wanders to than any of those who pursue daily encounters with you, it sounded almost taunting to your pride that your safe heaven is located by someone else just as broken’s side. However, that doesn’t irritate you as much as it should and you rapidly found yourself aspiring those getaways regularly.

A soft sigh escaped your reddish lips, delicate hands precisely covering his orbs with both train tickets as you approached the familiar silhouette sitting careless in the furthest corner of the station. Typical, you mused as a ghost of a smile traced your lips in a gentle greeting.

“I didn’t choose a specific stop, so it’s all on your hands; the train crosses at least five different cities, anyhow.” Shrugging your shoulders elegantly, you allow your small suitcase to accompany his at your feet, a teasing glow displayed by hazel orbs as you tilted your head back to meet his darker orbs; the height difference always made it harder on your end to taunt the younger male. “Do you think you can wait five more minutes?”

Glossy paper delicately slid towards his palm as you diverted your gaze to the rails, a childish excitement for a new venture overcoming your petite frame in waves, freedom tasted much more sweet in those aimless traveling, always at midnight, always in each other’s company.

               The world was at a standstill but her mind was spinning on its axis, to and fro, back and forth as delicate fingers traced the line of spines shelved in dusty cases. Through the filter of hazy vision appeared a reel of highlights from then and now, spread across rows like banners which she approached with frail hands. They seemed to shiver under her touch, one by one, before bursting forth into bloom. The colors were a tad faded, but nonetheless vivid in her eyes, each memory conflictingly nostalgic to her senses -- skeletons weren't meant to be lively, but these were, dancing before the woman, teeth chattering with gaps where past thoughts had once resided along the grooves. The sight of it made her blood churn in ways she found uncomfortable -- slips of warm sentiment slithering through, the holes in their snake tongues mirroring the holes that appeared in the film stretched out in front of her -- the pattern of missing happenings and the lack of them, all that had been sealed tight and locked away had become  undone within the blink of an eye.

               Yerim pulled away her hands away from the shelf, and the image vanished into thin air. Only the books remained where they have always been -- vessels of verses captured word by word from the shallows of the conscience by the tip of the pen, the remnants of polished thoughts strung along the lines of passages that waited to be faded away by the sun. However the covers closed the pages shut, and the rest of history. But the female did not ask for her histories to be written, but such occurrences could not be paused at a simple request. From pens to knives to fingernails rubbed red and raw each memory was scratched away into shreds, and each one returned to look her in the eye in the mask of her reflection, back to haunt her once again with words; words that desired to be dealt with, words that dared not be discharged. Yerim shook underneath the weight, her skeletons wanting to be shed off her skin and be exposed. But she let them writhe inside her bones, letting them bruise her inside out -- out of sight, out of mind; out of sight, out of mind. A slip of logic.

Yerim brushed such thoughts aside with a scowl. She needed to harden her shell.

               The sudden sound of a soft shoulder hitting hers released the sound of another. Oof. She spun around, lips curled to meet the other with a snarl, but was cut short by upon seeing  who it was; surprise slowly turned her expression into one that realized. 

                               ( Oh. )