#luvscloud

@luvscloud

"I'm consigned to the fact that I'm just happy to see my friends succeed." He sighs heavily. "My time is past, I feel bad that they feel burdened over me being okay with my circumstances."

when she looks at him, little to none of the thoughts that come into her mind make sense. words become like blurs, she's quieted in her small sufferings. + by small sufferings, she must mean by the heart, + she must mean that she is not suffering truly. she must mean that her heart is much too open of a bleeding wound + that she is a girl with a sewn-shut mouth + wide-open eyes. she must mean her hands are outstretched + never becomes full, + she must mean that he opens up her ribs like a surgery. he becomes this sharp blade only because he doesn't mean to be, + that's what makes this open of a wound. that's what pries her heart from her chest + onto the floor of her living room, admidst the barely-wanted shivers of absences of light. she's barely breathing, + he's giving her the brightest smile she thinks she's ever seen. or maybe it looks like that because it's him.

― ❀ ―

she's eating, everything tastes unspectacular + like everything always did before. she watches him while he parades around her small house, touching everything that she's touched + complaining about the dust, but the dust comes regardless of life. she's realized this. for dull seconds, she considers maybe the dust considers her a friend, + by friend, she means empty spaces + unlived. + she is unlived every moment he doesn't look at her. deer in headlights, his smile is mischievous in the implications. he's sharp teeth + night walks ; she's rotten oranges + empty houses. houses haunted by ghosts of her past that won't live in her future. distinctly, she realizes that everything changes. she imagines him on a strangely held branch of a very old tree, + she imagines that terrible, oasis of a pond bubbling under her fingers, under her tongue. she stutters very promptly now, boiling chest like boiling ponds, when he touches her arms, he lets go innocently like a child prancing around unfamiliar spaces. she realizes that this must be very unfamiliar. or she could be projecting, or she could be certainly right.

― ❀ ―

she's doing homework, + he doesn't receive her attention. or he always has her attention + he never knows it. nonetheless, he is bleeding at his mouth with laughter, this face that mimicks the less severe hurt of a pout. 〝 you never give me any attention, stuck in your books. 〞

her face scrunches, something akin to the expression he makes because she's much more of a mimick than him. she never looks up.〝 you always have my attention, i promise. 〞 she speaks with a tentative teaspoon of fondness.

and for @luvscloud, a story begins --

and for @luvscloud, a story begins --

when it came to figuring out how to deal with demons and all sort of entities that descended upon this world, there was very little seungjae wasn't willing to try or learn. for many years, he had buried his face on the books, trying to find any and all pieces of information that could help him protect himself for what would eventually come. however, he would soon learn that he could not trust or rely on everyone, just as not everyone would trust him — especially if they knew exactly who he was and what danger he posed to others. still, he wasn't going to let that stop him. " you know, i may not come from a line of people who have done this for generations or even had anyone properly teach me, but that doesn't mean i can't help. "