#mprose

a miscellaneous character sketch

Gulping, Jisoo stole a quick glance at her new friend. For some unknown reason they both had the absolutely brilliant idea to go skydiving on their day off. Jisoo absolutely hated heights and knowing this Rose had decided to try and help her overcome it. However, looking at how far away the ground looked from the interior of the plane, Jisoo was having major second thoughts. Her stomach was twisting into knots and she could feel literal sweat dripping down her entire body. As Jisoo heaved a sigh she decided to just go for it, gripping Rose’s hand tightly she said, “Okay Rose, let’s do this it’s now or never!” Mentally preparing herself, she steeled her nerves and jumped straight into the open air with Rose by her side.

Startled Namjoon looked up, only to catch the eye of a fiery orange haired female standing directly in his path. Thinking back on what she could have been referring to, he could only remember his most recent embarrassing incident, the guys from school who insisted on bullying him because he was apparently “too smart.” Their latest idea of torment was to catch him right when he was leaving the Flower Mill and making sure to dump his freshly brewed coffee all over his books and him. He could feel his cheeks reddening at the fact that this random girl had seen him in such an unappealing state. It was his motto to never fight back, but that often left Namjoon looking like a wimp. Still he did appreciate the girls sentiment, and with this thought in mind Namjoon said, “Ah thank you ma’am that’s very nice of you. Well um have a good day, sorry that you had to see that.”

She was a thing of beauty that never shone, not because there was a lack of light, but rather the wrong audience. She did not belong in the circus with starving caged animals acting for scraps of meat. She belonged in the gold fields of wheat where the sun fed the land and the moonlight bathed her fair skin; which shone of more life than the silver fish. Even the crimson eclipse paled in comparison to her allure, and the stars were but a complement to her dazzling chemistry. The wind carried her scent and bees followed, butterflies fluttering their powdery wings; a natural make up to her aesthetic. The trees swayed their beards and there within her lips, harboured a melody that made sirens green with envy. But most of all, her heart was all encompassing, a safe haven for the weak and a shrine for the brave. 

She could not hold my heart the way I needed her to. Or at least, not the way I wanted her to. It was unfortunately sad that sometimes the nicest people were not the best people for us. And it is most tragic, that by our own definitions, we cast them aside. Love is a miracle. It allows us to see beauty in imperfection and overcome rationality. It adds vibes to the mundane life of a person who thrives on routine. It gives us the chance to speculate and feel alive, like the volatility of the stock market, a complex and very much intertwined picture of a simpler picture, demand and supply. Its only flaw could perhaps be that it is highly subjective and as widely as opinions might differ, there is no best or worst, only what we decide to choose or reject.

Where should I even begin? The arch of her neck as she turned to speak to you, or the poise of her back which accentuated the finest fabric which ran along her spine. Her hair was done up in a french knot, only to make her appearance mature to her actual age, because her fair skin told lies.