#pilotakane

/Woobin never received this text and did not reply back in time/

[ omfg. she’ll never know tbh.

spdxwonbin replied to your post:

{ cackles/ and she shall neVER KNOW }

send me a ♥ to find out how my muse feels towards yours.↪ status: not accepting!

► Nana remembers Akane as that quiet, mysterious woman back from America that she treated on an occasion or two. A pretty face, kind enough, but there was something about her that made Nana slightly uneasy, probably because she intimidated the doctor, just a little. She doesn’t know much about Akane, so there’s not a whole lot for her to feel towards the woman. 

Send me a ❣ and I’ll gauge my character’s attraction to yours at this point in time.

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧ | Sexual Attraction✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧ | Romantic Attraction✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧ | Crushing✦✦✦✦✦✧✧✧✧✧ | Squishing✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧ | Sensual Attraction✦✦✦✦✦✦✧✧✧✧ | Aesthetic Attraction

Send ☠ for a threatening message.

( txt ➞ akane ) : Hope you are taking better care of yourself now. If not, I’ll have to drag you into a clinic, and something tells me you wouldn’t like that very much.

Send ♣ for a drunk message.

Give my character unwanted advice.

Write a letter to a person left in my askbox.

Dear Father,

      I always thought I was good with words. The teachers you employed to give me an education always praised me for my writing skills, and particularly for my ability to say whatever came to mind with no fear of retribution. When it comes to you however, all my words run away from me. They won't stay still. The amount of times I practiced those long, elaborate arguments I threw at you - why you should let me go to school, why you should let me see my old friends, why you should let me live a life outside my front door - all those practices and still, I failed every time. You wouldn't listen. You knew best, as always. "Back to your room, Evelina, or I swear to god I'll put a lock on your door." That was the last thing you said to me before I began to leave without your knowledge. 

      I know why you said them. When my Mother left, when your wife disappeared, it must have been the most awful thing. You were hurting, and perhaps so much more than I was because at least I clung to me small thread of hope. You, in your negativity, had nothing to hold on to. Nothing but me. I told you, didn't I? I always understood why you did what you did. You locked yourself away from me, the greatest reminder of the woman you loved, and locked yourself away from feeling anything. But at the same time, you kept me close. I know you only wanted to protect me, that you still do, and that's why a small part of me loathes myself with every cell in my body because I've made you lose her all over again by running away. You told me once, a few days after Mom left in one of your rare moments of affection after that day, that you'd do anything to make sure I was safe. You really took it to heart. You kept me safe from the outside world, from  everyone except myself and you. Do you know how desperately I held onto those words over the years? I told myself that there was still a part of the Father I remembered, one one who hugged me and took me to the animal sanctuary that one time, the one that held my Mothers hand and scooped me up into his arms to tell me he loved me. I told myself that because you'd told me you wanted to keep me safe.

      ... You did the opposite Dad. How was I safe when loneliness was my only companion? How was a safe when I never experienced a world outside of my little bubble? How was I safe when every time you said you'd be home you'd never arrive. I wasn't safe. I felt your absence like ice in my veins. It hurt. And it still does because I love you so much, despite everything.

      I'm happy right now. Properly happy, for the first time in years. I know you're probably looking for me, to drag me back to my prison. But if there's one last thing I could ask of you, it's this; let me come home when I need to. Let me return because I want to. Let me prove to you that I won't disappear forever like my mother if you just give me the choice. My words are scrambled and lack half of what I want to say, but they are here, they are written for you. I'll always be here if you let me. I'll try and find out what happened to Mom, even though you won't want to hear it. I'll try and make you proud, I promise. Tell me how I can make you proud, and I'll do it.

      I'm so sorry for making you worry. But safety doesn't always just mean locking me up and throwing away the key. 

Love,