#mthwasa

⊗ : What is something that causes them to question themselves?

chest kiss

they were both drunk, mind clouded with alcohol, and lust.the night was supposed to end like this, but sometimes, things just happenednaturally. though byul wasn’t as drunk as hyejin must be—alcohol doesn’t haveany effect on byul anymore, but her mind was filled with lust. it was hyejin’sfault really, the way she dances on the dancefloor, the way she sway her hipsas she run her hand through byul’s body, bodies touching almost everywhere. shecouldn’t take it longer, and so, she acted on her desires after a few morehours of holding back.

16. Upside-Down Kiss

the ruby droplets cascading down exposed legs stain the white of the rose bushes she rushed through. her feet aren’t fast enough compared to the four legged creature trailing her every step, the fury of it’s growls intensified by her ability to dodge acute claws, which in turn reached for her jugular. a yelp attempts to flee the back of her throat but a entrenched grasp detains even her ability to respire.

she awakens with a choked breath, tears dwelling at the brim of amber pupils. the nightmare haunts her even years after the first change.

aches of the past full moon remain, rallying her retracting muscles in creaks of agony, excruciating reminders: that morphing still provided nearly sinful pain when her bones would stretch into abnormalities, allowing for the caged beast laying in the pits of herself to explore freedom, on the awful times the moon would shine fully upon the night sky of busan.

whimpers croak out of parched tiers. dehydration practically tangible through her core.

yet the comforts of fluffed cushions beneath soothe her. what would usually be a bed of grass bellow a weeping willow tree as the sunrise peeks through it’s drowsy leaves, is replaced by warmth that staple her frame in the chilly mornings of september. confusion consumes her; per usual her memory is extinct once transformed. unable to sedate the monster that overpowers all senses. she feels at a loss when the smell of pastries tickle her nostrils teasingly. where is the first word that forms and how is the second.

this is not the habitat the reoccurring nightmare would end in and it instantly frightens her, chest heaving heavily; temples pulsating irrationally. she sits up much too quickly, searching for a sign of life, the covers set atop her held tightly to her naked chest with nothing short of shock.