kadvs:
( ⥠âÊáŽáŽáŽ. ) donât underestimate the power or the actions of an angry girl. or a girl who went through way too much in only twenty-one years of her life. thatâs something must keep in mind when it comes to kady and even though his words came as an excuse to just let that anger out in a way she really needed to at the moment, the girl tried her best to keep it together. at least for as long as possible. â you donât get it, do you⊠â her expectations for the other to actually understand what the hell sheâs going through each and every time some idiot decides that it would be fair to bring up such a sensitive topic as her parents and their death are below zero. sheâs basically expecting nothing because one could understand that only if they would experience it themselvesâ  which she doesnât wish for anyone to do.
but people are mean and sheâs just a very weak girl. underneath the fake facade she has to pull off every now and then, acting as if sheâs entirely over what happened three years ago. sheâs been recovering, thatâs truth, but some scars are never going to disappear. no matter how hard the girl would try.  â donâtâ  do not say that⊠â kady adds only moments later, hands slowly clenching until the point they turn into really tight fists and tears start streaming down those pale cheeks. thatâs it, this is where she canât hold it back anymore.  â do you know what they said ! do you fuâ  that my parents deserved to die. why the hell would they deserve something like this ! does that mean I deserved to see them both dead at that damn morgue ? is that the case ! â the poor girl⊠thereâs no control over her own actions anymore and those fists sheâs been clenching all along now start to hit against his chest as if heâs the one at fault for that chaos. but one thingâs clear⊠thereâs absolutely no strength in her actions, in fact, sheâs not capable of showing such a thing in that situation.
her anger shakes him. rationality is all but lost, and here, there are only emotions splayed out on open palms. he only wants to take her hand in his, press skin to skin and lines to lines. the rivers of their flesh would merge under the glimmer of light, in the heart of their existence. only he keeps his hands to himself, arms stiff at his sides. the sweat on his back only collects, runs down the curve of his spine, just as understanding melds into each joint and each heartbeat. and when she accuses him of not understanding, he wants to scream. he wants to say âI do, I fucking do god fucking damn itâ , but it would be a half-truth. he knows of death, yet not the pain of it. he knows her heart is not for him to hold, so he wears it on his sleeve.
he is reminded of children. she reminds him of children. not the sort who weep over spilled milk, but rather, the children who know more of pain than adults do. the children who are perceptive, who hold their tiny balled up fists against their chest and weep because they know of loss. of the children who, despite their tears, remain strong. she is such a child, he thinks. with him, upon him, around him ; he keeps his silence. his tongue is caught when she speaks. when she cries. jungkook is so terrible for her, and he falls weak to her tears. one thing he can not stand is women crying. â âcos people are stupid.â he whispers, eyes trying to find herâs, but she resists in looking at him. âsaying petty shit when they donât get it. but itâs not true. whatever they said, itâs not true. believe that.â she starts hitting him, and he lets her. he lets her cry and he lets her scream and he lets her be angry. he lets her. âhey hey hey. câmon.â jungkook reaches out to grab her arms, gently. âdonât let those stupid words make you do stupid things.â
