#soeuvre

" Strange isn’t it...? The case files never-- “ , he paused mid-sentence, having heard a loud thud coming from the wall to his right. “ I...have to go. How about we discuss this tomorrow at the office? “ With that said, he hangs up and intently glares at that very wall. “ Will you cut it out, for once? Don’t you think you’re pushing it?”, he scoffs under his breath. “ You should have some decency. Haunting your neighbors isn’t going to bring you peace of mind. Move on! Get out of here! “  Another loud sound follows moments after the first. This time it wasn’t the spirit causing the commotion. There were hurried steps that lead to his door and frantic knocking. Oh, great. Had the neighbors finally decided to complain to him? No. He didn’t want to fight over something he didn’t even do! “ You got this all wrong! Whatever it was-- that wasn’t me, so beat it! “

a quizzical expression claims the features of the author   not far from judgmental   as she peers over at the younger woman. she had always known leila to preach confusing ( & often amusing… ) one-liners, but she had truly topped herself this time around.  ❛ do you think you’ll become immortal if you think it hard enough? ❜  sora could swear that sometimes this dongsaeng watches too much television.

Answering out of complete impulsiveness was rather the moral of Leila, secrets kept over time were rather tiresome to endure. Strange, odd and bizarre didn’t fall far from the tree when describing the young woman either, most likely a unique aura surrounded her unusual personality. A thumb messily fiddled with the hem of her blouse before shifting both hands into the pockets of her jacket, chuckling softly as she answered. “Maybe.” Staying vague while thoughts began to jumble within her mind, pausing for a quick second to only continue. “Depends if you really want it. This generation only adheres to death, all they look forward to is dying and let me tell you- it’s rather bothersome. Where is the embrace with life? Nature? Writing? Appreciation is fading, don’t you think?”

MORE QUESTION SENTENCE STARTERS.⤷ status : no longer accepting

Somin was perplexed.

Had she heard wrong? Perhaps crossed her wires and confused the female for another? Or simply cooked up a fantasy, filling in unknown gaps without actually ever seeking confirmation for her assumption. No, it could not be the latter, she wasn’t that type of person; the former seemed more plausible though. 

For a while now, she had she been under the impression that the young author would be releasing a number of short stories rather than another novel — a prospect that excited the busy idol as short stories were far easier to digest in between hectic schedules than one, long, linear one. The moon’s angel’s had been an addictive piece and like the masses Somin, too, was eagerly awaiting a future release from Park Sora. Whenever it may be.

Blood rushes to her cheeks, painting them crimson with shame. How had she believed such rumours blindly, did she not know better than anyone how unfair it was to do so? Shamefaced, her head falls in an apologetic bow and she mentally scolds herself. Abashment injected in the following utterance, “I’m so sorry, I really don’t know where I got it from.” 

Chestnut locks conceal her contorted face for only a few, fleeting moments before they are brushed back. Between her teeth, she chews upon her bottom lip, anticipating the next reaction from the female in front of her. 

horror isn't his favorite genre. actually, he enjoys sora's reactions to the movie more than the movie itself. at this point, he's missed most of the action trying to keep sora from hiding her face with her hand or anything, checking on her to make sure that her eyes are still opened. many man would probably use this as an excuse to get close, to hold the girl, but no, here he is, trying to get her to not miss a single second of this movie just for his own entertainment. "do you have anywhere to go tomorrow? do you really need to sleep? i'll keep you company if you want." he's getting hyper like a little puppy, a stark contract to the current state of her friend.

a train of thought typically moves along on tracks that are assembled with some sort of rationality, departing from point a and arriving at point b. it’s a straightforward process, she thinks, as straightforward as thoughts went, at least. it’s linear like the sleek sportscar peeling into their line of sight, only to disappear down the road with a rev of its engine. nahui jumps at the sound, makes a stray comment about the colour of the vehicle, and suspects the aforementioned routine was not at all what was going on here. ( at least not according to her compass. )

departed from: point a. current location: ?? ? ?

- faster cars and more cats run over? who needs it?

( but said with such conviction, she imagines their trains travel on wildly disparate tracks. )

her own derails with a hiss and a crash; slower trains, perhaps, would benefit the both of them.

“ tell me again how you got from sport cars to killing cats? ”

the curiousity was a knee-jerk reaction at best, the furrow in her brows mistaken for concern. part of her fears that her need to know was to be the demise of an innocent feline.

@soeuvre / stranger things starters / always accepting! 

a lilting breeze tousles the branches of neatly trimmed trees, twirling around what few leaves remain. aside from the hum of an occasional passing car, silence inundates the neighbourhood and swells in the space of his lungs. he can just barely make out the static drone of the city that lies beyond the blocks of flats encasing the park, as constant as the blue-green glow peeking over the skyline. here, though, the only activity to be found is the flickering lights in the windows. with all the luxuries that technology can afford, there’s no reason for anyone to be outdoors. warmth, food, and entertainment–a trifecta of privileges that kyungsoo has never been able to pat down for himself for too many winters now. 

between the manicured shrubs and uniform towers of glass and concrete, he sticks out like a sore thumb. such intrusions are inevitable, no matter how well designed these suburban fortresses may be; like the passing winter, the city will always encroach upon every available space. right now, she’s roiling in the bottleneck channels of his blood vessels and escaping ever so slowly through his exhales. for only the briefest of moments, she can be seen in the silvery plumes that sneak between his lips, billowing in the cold evening before vanishing as quickly as she’d arrived. he’ll never be able to outrun the city, not when she’s made a home of his lungs, but it’s nice to catch a break every once in a while. 

beneath a curtain of moonbeams, the purplish red blooming across his cheek mellows out in something closer to lavender. it’s fresh, tender to the touch, but bearing the pain that comes with every word gets easier with time--nothing he hasn’t dealt with before. the chain links squeal in protest as he rocks back and forth on the swing, etching twin divots in the ground with his toes. “they don’t know any better,” he answers as quietly as the few brave crickets out tonight, pausing briefly to appreciate their soft-spoken lullabies. “sucks t’admit i got beat up by a bunch o’ kids, but.. y’know, strength in numbers and all that. i was in their space anyway. they must’ve just been scared.” 

TOUCH DEPRIVED : OPEN.↺ @soeuvre

Slowly and surely, spring has begun to spread its fingers across the lazy city awoken from hibernation. Although it is a far stretch to say Seoul is not busy in the winter times, as it starts to feel warmer again and the sun starts to be more than just a lightbulb in the sky, there is some sort of liveliness sweeping over the streets.

Embraced by their newly gained energy, Sora and Yonah have started to meet outside more often.

And so they do on this very day as well.

Yonah leads the way in balancing atop a short wall, and Sora follows right behind him. It does not happen so often that Yonah finds someone who does not dismiss his childish antics as unusual or immature. Thus, he enjoys the time he spends with Sora all the more. She is like the missing puzzle piece he has long stopped looking for because he figured the dog ate it.

His mind trails off, as it always does, to a world of finished puzzles and hungry dogs. And as he does, his hands move out of his pockets.

Instinctively, his hand reaches for hers, as to not lose his balance. But he loses something still because his heart jumps as if it is still scared of the fall.A small gestures, but nowhere short on impact. Her skin is soft against his, and her palms are warmer than the rays of sunshine that have bestowed upon him bravery – more than he already carries within him. This gesture reveals more about the nature of their relationship than either of them would like to admit.When hands reach for one another – so innately, so blindly – it is a confession of trust. I give you my hand and with it, I trust you with a part of me. 

Seoul, on the verge of spring, is quite different.