#ofeternity

@ofeternity

jang eunseol is by no means a damsel. she plays at one, sure. but she is not one herself.

she has her methods of getting power – her smiles, her words, her touch. she wraps men and women around her fingers and puppeteers them around as she pleases. people have killed for her, died for her. but her power is soft, not the kind she wants, truly. she can pull on strings and watch them dance for her, but the strings tie themselves back to her and she’s got no way of cutting them off without losing her own. it infuriates her to be caught in this balancing act, needing people for power when she wants it for herself.

her brothers pet her head and tell her to be on her best behaviour, like she isn’t the reason the jangs have the chance to call a truce with the hwangs. longtime friends, turned longtime rivals, and now perhaps a truce can be had thanks to her. not that anyone has taken note. after all, eunseol is the only one who bothers to listen, when her father worries about their numbers and diminishing turf. he wants to expand their sphere of influence with minimal bloodshed, she wants the power that comes with that.

which is what this dalliance is about.

hwang min shows up, finally. she pulls him towards her, wrapping her arms around his neck when she greets him with a kiss. it’s for show, slick and demanding. eunseol doesn’t let herself get caught up in it because she’s got something to say and it’s for his ears only. “you owe me,” she reminds him softly when they break apart, his breath hot on her cheek, “i’m collecting.”

she knows what it’s like to be in love like. for reference, sunday has read books. has watched movies. has listened to songs. has asked (sisters, mom, brother, google). but nothing compares to the actual thing. like as a concept? not nearly as devastating as like in reality.

in reality, her heart pounds, her stomach tightens, the abundance of butterflies in her stomach never stops. in reality, however, unlike the movies and songs and yahoo! answers, he doesn’t like her back. 

she knows, because she asked. not mom, not her sisters, not google. but him. embarrassing, but she had to know.

and supposedly, after, supposedly—it gets easier.

but. not really.  but. it’s whatever. (stupid, it’s only whatever because you don’t have a choice.)

nothing too devastating that it’s worth killing 20 years of friendship over. yeah, sunday cha and park sunwoo? names aligned since birth. fate strung together by overeager moms who wanted nothing but their kids to be absolute besties and date. well, at least the first half was viable. 

this, she reminds herself on the constant. bright side, still friends. still close. even if sunwoo often hesitated and she often played the role of reassurance. (”listen, it’s no big deal.” “i’m fine.” “don’t freak out over nothing.” all lies.) down side, he’s still very much so the stereotypical boy. still very much harbored crushes and the like. (not her. though, give it up, chacha. it probably never will be.) 

and as of late, it doesn’t seem as if things are going sunwoo’s way either.

“hey—” she greets him in the hall with a playful shove, taking in the slump in his shoulders and slightest dip of his head. hm, not entirely good signs. “what’s wrong?” but here’s only a handful of things in the world that sunwoo truly gets upset about. and here, sunday supposes she could make some sort of educated guess.

“lost your nerve again?” to confess, i mean. 

it’s where the two of them differ, after all. 

     He stretches his fingers as he lifts his hands. He didn’t think it was possible, but god it felt incredible to be back in his own body. It felt incredible to be back with the living and do what he was meant to. His head snaps up as he hears a twig snap, the rustle of leaves. “Who is there?”

“I’m sorry, I know that this must all be confusing to you..” Stefan said with a sigh. He knew it had been for him when his memories had been taken away from him and given to Silas.