Pairing: Opera singer Kim SungGyu x Reader Park Harin.
Genre: Young Adult, Romance, Angst, Love, Pain, Anxiety, Heartbreaker
Warnings: Mentions of sexual states, making out, little suggestive, mentions of jealousy
⚠️ I WILL NOT WARN YOU ABOUT THE SCENES! SO CONSIDER THIS YOUR WARNING! ⚠️
Boy Band: INFINITE (인피니트)
Summary:
I remembered the way he always looked at me, it scared me, sending shivers down my spine. The fact that he seemed constantly nervous and angry, made me want to stay as far away from him as possible. However, I couldn't stop wondering how a man so perfectly built, so beautiful and attractive, as if he were a god, could exist? The anger and hatred that emanated from his gaze, from his behavior, were as attractive as they were frightening. He was an enigma that drew me in like a magnet, despite my fears.
Although the look in his eyes was pure anger, pain and a slight tinge of hatred towards me, making me flinch slightly and look away, not knowing why I was making him disgusted with me, I felt uncomfortable and guilty for something I hadn't done. It was as if I was carrying the stigma of a crime. Back then, we were just two strangers and nothing more.
And then there was that deep baritone voice that resonated so deeply in my chest, as if I were the one speaking and not him. I remember the way his skin felt under my touch, making me want more and more, grow more and more greedy. His heat burning my skin caused me a pleasant ache, a memory I couldn’t forget no matter how much I wanted to. And the spark I saw there in his eyes even for the short time I spent in his arms, made me believe that he shared the same feelings as me.
“ A sweet delusion!”
Then the color of his eyes changed and I became more confused than before, wondering if I had begun to see wrongly and misunderstand all those contradictory feelings he was showing me.
I never intended to lie, but... I was actually in love with him!
His fingers moved gracefully on the piano keyboard. The sun that had cast its rays over his whole being made him seem so angelic with a shining aura around him. At that moment, not even an angel could undermine his appearance. He was like a deity!
He was the Amadeus of my life, the string of my heart, a god and a madman at the same time who played with me any way he wanted and when he wanted, and I, like a fool, went along with everything he did to me. Although, I was just a note on his notebook, an insignificant key, I needed the biggest key to shine, the most powerful: the sol key! Even if he was indeed a sol key, he was the key to my heart. Even though he unwittingly unlocked my heart, he selfishly made a place in my soul and continued to eat greedily from it. And because I fell in love with him, I allowed him to stay there, fully aware of the consequences that would follow me for a long time. I bet everything on love, but I had no idea how dark it would be.
His long, white fingers slowly brushed the cool piano key, letting the house fill with sounds without any harmony, while in his other hand he held a glass filled with red wine that sparkled under the artificial light like little diamonds that had been dropped into it. The sun was not high in the sky yet, the night was still here, and so was I.
At one point he stopped and looked thoughtful as he looked at those black and white piano keys, unaware of my presence in the same room, in the same house as him. His thin fingers held the glass so delicately that I became jealous of it.
“ If only he would hold my heart so delicate too!”
But no, he would chase me away and take me back to him at his will, feeding me lies over and over again that I slowly started to believe them. Like a fool, I allowed him to do this, and he, like a shameless man, continued to hurt me in every possible way, never missing a chance to give me so much pain.
I kept my eyes on him, hungry for his love, needing his touch, longing for his kisses, for the warmth he deprived me of. I, who stood still enjoying his presence, idolizing him, admiring him, could not stop dreaming of the day when his heart would turn to me.
His white clothes in the sunlight made him look so angelic and perfect, so ethereal, that I'd almost fool myself if I didn't know how black his soul was, how sinful he was.
“ Who would love a sinner like me?”
Suddenly, his words rang so clearly in my head, as if he had whispered them in my ear seconds ago, and not a few nights ago, when he was so drunk that he started talking a lot of nonsense. But was that nonsense?! Or was it just a moment of sincerity and lucidity on his part?! Everything confused me. It confused me more than the situation we were in, more than this… relationship - if it could be called that - we were in. He pressed the same key over and over again, as if the sound of it somehow hypnotized him, bringing back memories that were hard to forget, or perhaps memories he had never forgotten. I wanted so much to know what was going on in that head of his, what kind of thoughts kept his brow furrowed and awake at night.
I sighed! A cold shiver ran through my thin body, feeling it deep in my soul like an ice cube. I hated the cold - the very same cold that had taken his heart prisoner long ago, draining his soul of every trace of gentleness - as much as I hated winter. I really hated the cold and anything cold because it constantly reminded me of his frozen heart and I was fully aware that I would never have it and never be able to change it. Because she lived deep in his heart. And I really hated that, and I hated her with all my heart, and I hated myself, because I felt that hatred so overwhelming and destructive. At that moment, I could have even killed her if it meant getting her out of his life for good and earning my rightful place. But even so, even then, I was very aware that she would not have loved me at all. But I didn't care, because my hatred for that woman was so great that it couldn't be extinguished as easily as a candle flame. And yet, I really, really wanted her dead.
“ He will never love me in this life!”
Because in this life I was cursed to love the one who was nothing more than an empty vessel, someone to whom I probably owed a debt from a previous life. The shaking didn't stop, it just got worse. I wanted to hug him so I could feed on his body heat, let his scent soothe my mind, rest my head between his shoulder blades, hear his heartbeat and feel my nervousness grow because I was so close to him and so intimate. But I was reluctant to do that, so I kept all those fantasies, my desires to myself and let my eyes look at him with warmth and affection, admiring him from the outside while the pain fueled me from more and more hatred towards the other woman with each passing day.
“ So close to him, yet so far!”
A dream! That was all I had every night before falling asleep in my bed or in his bed - although the occasions when I fell asleep in his bed were extremely rare. But... I couldn't complain, right? After all, I chose this. Even if this little bit was all I had almost every night, as long as he kept up this charade. Mornings would catch me dreaming of a nice quiet family with him, his relaxed laugh, those dimples that appeared whenever he smiled mischievously, those eyes that sparkled brightly whenever he looked at me, and a tiny baby cradled in his arms babbling while he sang a lullaby. A child! Our child! So many innocent and baseless thoughts. Such big dreams for someone who should never have been allowed to taste the forbidden apple. Because that's what I was: someone! Someone like Eve, who tasted what was forbidden, only to have something I wasn't allowed to have. And as long as my heart was tasting the forbidden apple, over and over again, I was never going to find a way out of this game.“Out of his game!”From the very beginning it wasn't my game, it was his. He was the one who made the rules, while I was more than happy to stick to them so I could have him in my life. But the fear of losing him to the other woman didn't let me sleep well enough every night, and sometimes not at all. He was my everything, he had become the center of my world, and I, like a fool, allowed him to be my executioner, holding me prisoner in a love that he called his own. After all, what did I have?! What belonged to me? I didn't have his love, his heart, his mind. I had nothing! I was just a filler for him, someone who helped him relieve stress every time through sex and that was it. No more!
My eyes filled with tears and I could hardly stop myself from crying. He was the one who had the power to control not just a few notes on the piano, but my own heart too. Even the course of my life depended on him. Looking at him, I realized the irony of this destiny that had been destined for me. I was exactly that puppet manipulated by a puppeteer from somewhere above, behind the scenes, through a system of ropes. And just like that, with a snap of fate's fingers, he became my puppeteer!
However, every time I woke up from the dream, the reality of my life hurt me even more. It was so hard to bear that it was suffocating me. I wanted to scream and cry, but did I have the right to do that? I wanted to hit to release the anger and hatred that I was constantly building up inside me, but was I allowed to release all this anger and hatred? Did I have the right to do that? Was anger and hatred all that had built up inside me? Did I have the right to demand love from someone who didn't even know how to love? Or maybe he knows, but not me? I've often wondered what I really mean to him, but I've never been able to find an answer to the question that's been bothering me for so long.
And as usual, I had to wake up, get out of bed and hold my head up high. Not to lose my dignity, to show an indifferent, cold, emotionless face, while my heart was on the ground, shattered into pieces, every day it became more and more difficult to bear. It was such a heavy coat that I felt like it was suffocating me.
“ A punishment I didn't deserve!”
Again, that cold from earlier pierced my frail body and I wanted nothing more than to be in bed, in his arms, as cold and foreign as his heart. And with each dawn, I wished with all my heart that the night would never end, and that time would stand still. Tears flowed down my red, hot cheeks, only to be wiped away immediately without being noticed.
Suddenly, he looked up to catch me staring at him without saying anything. For a while, no one said anything, letting the silence fall heavily on us. In this suffocating silence, words seemed meaningless.
With my eyes still wet, I could have sworn I saw a glint in his eyes and the ghost of a smile on his lips. But in an instant, it was all gone, and the darkness behind them reappeared more relentless, colder, ready to tear me to pieces. Again, I felt the same familiar pain in my heart, but I remained silent. Again, he offered me crumbs of himself and I could only settle for those, since the walls he had built were so high that it was impossible for me to climb and jump over them. Again, he made me feel like an intruder in his world.
Because she was the only one who could fix him.
Because she was the only one who could heal him.
Because I was just a filler in her absence.
I was perfectly aware of my place, but was it really that wrong to ask for more? To want more? I was perfectly aware that I would never be enough for him and I would never be able to fill that void in him. I wasn’t good enough for him as I was, and he had a darkness that didn’t match mine.
“ Before my own heart is consumed by the same darkness in his heart I should stop. ” I told myself a thousand of times, but whenever I saw him and reached for his arms, it was as if something was taking over my mind and I couldn't think at all. And so, I became weak, useless, and easily controlled.
Finally he stopped and stood up from the bench in front of the piano. At one point, I was sure he loved the piano more than the women who came in and out of his life and maybe even from his bed too, and for that I was very jealous of it. I even considered smashing that thing with an axe, then setting it on fire, pouring out all the frustration I had built up on that damn piano, then watching him go crazy, pulling out his hair and cursing all the saints. I wanted to give him a heart attack because it would be worth it to see how he felt when someone destroyed his most precious and fragile thing. But the truth was that I was a weak woman, a coward, who did not dare to speak her thoughts, frustration or even indignation to a man like him.
Secretly I called him "My Amadeus!" several times with a smile on my lips and with such refreshing joy of soul transforming my depressive and gloomy mood into a warm and bright one. So just for a moment I gave in to illusions, I fed my soul a little of them and dripped a drop of energy into it, only to get hurt again in the end.
He never said he loved me, never looked at me with adoration, never cared if I was sick or scared of something, or if I was just having a bad day. He didn't care about anyone but himself and that's something I haven't been able to change in the last two years of knowing him and I didn't trust that I had the ability to change this man just as I couldn't change the past no matter how much I would have liked it for a long time. He didn't care about anyone but himself, and that was something I hadn't been able to change in the last two years since I met him, and I didn't trust that I had the ability to change this man, just as I knew very well that I didn't have the ability to change the past no matter how much I would have liked to.
I still remember the night he asked me to help him forget her, to make him fall in love with me, to be his everything. I looked at him with pity, pain and adoration, since I was already in love with him. I saw myself as a woman who saves souls, thinking that maybe in this way I could save myself too, not just him. I consciously overestimated myself again and I got into a useless fight, because my battle was lost before it began. But I stubbornly refused to see this and continued to overestimate myself, only to understand, little by little, day by day, that I was the one who was extra in his life, I understood that HE only wanted a temporary refuge, and he did not want me to be his permanent home.
But he, in my world, was my own deity, my own sun that warmed and dazzled me every time I looked at him. And every time I reached out to touch him, the distance between us seemed to grow deeper and deeper. In this way, my touches only made him retreat further into his shell, closing me off, instead treating me with coldness and indifference like a stranger. There were days when he wouldn't even talk to me and built that wall between us again. And those were the days when it hurt me the most.
He was my first thought in the morning and my last thought before falling asleep. He was the center of my universe and he had no idea how high I had put him on that pedestal. Therefore, not even for a moment, I did not intend to confess this to him.
It was my Amadeus who played with the strings of my heart, who made me walk through fire and tread on embers. With burned soles and a bleeding heart, I always found a reason to hide my pain behind my fake smiles that perfectly fooled anyone but me. All this time, he had no idea how important he was in my world, in my soul, how much and deeply he made me feel everything. Lord, I had so much love to give, so much affection and tenderness in me, that I felt my heart at times was on the verge of exploding in my chest. If he had known all this... If he had opened his heart to me...
But now... now I wasn't so sure of anything. Even my own principles have gone to hell since he came into my life so unexpectedly like a summer rain. Only that he remained like the rain that turned into a hurricane of feelings and mood swings. And I accepted everything. Maybe out of too much naivety, or out of too much stupidity or selfishness, but he had completely overwhelmed my senses, and any trace of reason had disappeared.
Sometimes I hated my own heart for betraying me in such a ruthless and cruel way, while other times I felt I had lost my dignity and shame when I begged for his love and only accepted the scraps he gave me. Just like a beggar begging for food. Only the only difference between me and the beggar was that I was begging for love and affection.
In my painful present I was living in, nothing belonged to me. Even my heart no longer belonged to me, but to him, and that was more devastating than leaving him without a word. I sighed again dragging my feet towards him, eyes still locked on him, mind and soul still full of him. My steps were light, my hips swaying gracefully from side to side as the robe revealed my left shoulder. A temptation you could say! But not for him!
His gaze was fixed on my long, well-defined legs. Then he looked up at my bare shoulder, where he could see a bit of my bare left breast. My skin was soft, smooth, still carrying a faint trace of that past summer's tan, while his scent and traces were deeply ingrained in me. I knew I shouldn't have lusted after his body - and then his soul - in the first place, but he looked so perfect that I couldn't help myself. I was a greedy woman. Very greedy! And he was perfect for me, and so was his soul.
On the other hand, too many things have tarnished my integrity, caused me to abandon my path and goals, bringing me only pain, confusion, and humiliation. I was lost and I didn't know when I became unrecognizable. I myself no longer knew, and now my only goal was the way to his heart. Every time he drove me away, I waited in silence, quietly, hopefully, for him to take me back. I was like a puppy abandoned on the streets waiting to be adopted.
“ He was like a vice!” It was my own vice, an addiction I couldn't escape, and honestly, I didn't want to. I just wanted for a little while, even for a day, for him to look at me as his most precious thing, to love my soul and heart, to penetrate so deeply into my mind that all my thoughts would have been filled with only him. I would have greedily tasted everything he had to offer, just as he had greedily and ruthlessly tasted everything I had to give him.
He looked at me coldly and seriously as I walked towards him. Any emotion I hoped to arouse in him, other than carnal desires, was in vain. He was not what I was looking for and wanted.
It was true that he was only using me for his needs in bed, but that was all. He never allowed me to exceed the limits he set for me, nor did he allow me to stay longer than I had to in his apartment.
I could see he had a lot on his mind - because of his frown - that was driving him crazy, and the sight of my skin glistening slightly in the sunlight didn't help at all. On the contrary, I was so pure that he tainted me with his sinful touches and words, making me fall head over heels in love with him while he felt absolutely nothing. Although he didn't care that he was going to hurt me so bad that I wouldn't even be able to get up off the ground, he didn't have even a shadow of remorse, compassion, or attachment for me in his heart.
Although his voice was a whisper, he looked exhausted and slightly bored, disgusted; it made me stop in my tracks. As soon as he opened his eyes, the tiredness was replaced by a cold, hateful look, making me feel like I was stepping on chunks of ice piercing the soles of my feet rather than the cold floor.
I opened my mouth to say something, but stopped as soon as I saw the disgust in his eyes. What else did I expect to see?! Love?! Warmth?! Concern?! How could I see something like that in his eyes, when he himself did not know what love is and how to love? Or maybe he knew how to love but not me?!
“But who knew?! ” Who really knew what was inside him? Who knew who the real him was? So many unanswered questions, so many unrequited feelings that he stopped looking for the answer for the moment.
I stopped walking, knowing it was useless to try anything else. However, I knew that the ice around his heart would never melt and that the door to his soul would never open for me. I wanted to know all the corners of his soul, all his fears and pains, all his weaknesses and kiss all his scars with my love, to penetrate so deep into his mind that only I would be there. But instead of looking for the cure, he wanted me as far away from him as possible. He was playing with me and I could see that he liked it.
"Amadeus" I wanted to say out loud, but stopped myself mid-sentence before making a mistake I was sure I'd regret the next second. He continued to look me in the eyes, waiting in silence, patiently, while I stopped a few steps away from him.
He was right. What the hell was I still doing here?! I should have left before he woke up instead of being here to face him. Since when did the courage wake up in me?! So far I have never dared to say anything to him or scream my frustrations at him. So what was I doing here again?! What was I hoping for?
I looked down at the ground trying to find an answer to his liking before he got angry and threw me out the door in the robe I was wearing. I felt uncomfortable under his watch, and no matter how hard I tried to rack my brain, I couldn't come up with a plausible excuse.
I saw him sigh as he closed his eyes waiting for me to say something, anything, but he realized I was too afraid to say something so as not to annoy him. His patience began to wear thin little by little and it was clearly visible on his perfectly sculpted face like an object of art. For me, he himself was an art!
“ You should go and change. And then leave. ”
He told me without even looking at me. I nodded without saying anything and turned to go back to the room I came from. I didn't hesitate at all because he was right about two things: One, I should have been dressed, and two, I should have been gone before he would have woken up.
Still, I was here like a fool hoping for nothing. Tears were falling down my cheeks as I buttoned up my shirt. Suddenly I felt cold and started shivering because of how cool it was in the room. The sun was high in the sky, cruelly burning everything around it. Another scorching day was upon us!
I looked for my panties and found them on the couch. They were broken, so I no longer needed them. I picked up my pants from the floor and got dressed, then I ran my fingers through my hair to arrange it as much as possible, and I left the room.
He was still in the living room with his back to me, standing in front of the French doors that led to the green house he had in his own apartment. It was the first time I saw this side of him.
I wiped my eyes and cheeks with tears and watched him silently for a few minutes. He looked thoughtful and downcast, and I wanted nothing more than to hold him in my arms and take away all his pain and suffering. But I was too cowardly and I was afraid of his cold rejection. And at that moment I wasn't sure he would appreciate my pity, as he called it.
I swallowed my tears, and my soul felt so heavy and tired that I had the impression that I was fighting a useless battle with a storm, a memory of a past that I was trying to chase away, I was just going to lose miserably.
To him I was just a game, while to me he was everything. He filled the void in me and made me feel truly alive every night when I was in his arms. Only then did the walls I had built completely crumble, letting him penetrate deep inside me, igniting me, making me experience feelings I had never experienced before. I wanted him with a burning passion, I loved him with all my heart, and it hurt so much. I was growing hungry for that pure, ennobling, selfless love that soothed every trace of pain and suffering; that love that made you breathe it in with every heartbeat, that love that would be there no matter what; that love that broke down walls, healed wounds, burned pain into ashes and oblivion, and chased away the darkness.
I was hurting myself and I was aware of this. I could feel the pain suffocating me, the tears didn't stop flowing by themselves while I watched him standing motionless in front of those doors with his hands in his pants pockets.
I knew that to him I was just another woman who satisfied his needs in bed, but I couldn't stop hoping that one day he would see me for who I am. I knew that to him I was just another woman who satisfied his needs in bed, but I couldn't stop hoping that one day he would see me for who I am. But until then, I pushed all these thoughts to the back of my mind and tried to forget them. I headed for the front door with a deep disappointment in myself and full of embarrassment at the situation I was facing. The echo of his earlier request kept echoing in my head as I remained silent. I hurriedly put on my shoes and left his apartment immediately with more questions than answers, with more pain than relief.
“ And with more emptiness in me than before.”
Everyone hungrily took pieces of me without giving anything back, while I, like a naive, allowed this to happen, thinking it was normal to do so. Over time, I understood that this was not normal, and I promised myself to never give anything to anyone again, nor to let anyone enter deep inside my soul.
And yet, just like last time, like a naive girl, I allowed this man to enter deep into my soul!
Emptiness is just another face of loneliness!
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