from the ashes, I will rise

how would you react if you suspected someone was looking secretly into your past? would you be concerned? anxious? uncaring?

Exhaustion weighs heavy on the male’s shoulders, a wary sort of exhaustion that is visible not just in the slump of his shoulders and in the lax expression on his features, but in the way his hands shake, ever so slightly, as they lift to card through his hair. He’s exhausted. Physically, emotionally. Drained. Tired.

He’s not doing a very good job of controlling his responses, of playing at detached and unobtainable. Normally he’s better at it. Normally he excels at it, at being gorgeous and untouchable and appearing beyond the cares of others. It’s part of why he’s so popular, his ability to be mysterious and aloof. But if there’s any one way to break through Iseul’s defenses, it’s to remind him that once upon a time, before Shin Iseul, before his life now, he was Kim Jaeseok -- a son and a brother.

“I would ask them not to.” Iseul glances up, lips compressing into a thin line of hurt. “There’s nothing in my past that I won’t tell them...if they only ask me. There’s no reason to dig into my history when they could just ask me what they want to know.” Hurt. He’d be hurt. That much is obvious. There’s distress, too, and grief. But then again, with the history he hides, and the bodies he left in it, anyone would be bothered.

most people just got annoying when they saw him in this sort of state. started trying to look after him, chastise him, tried to pull out something to wipe the blood away. and god did yuchan hate people like that. if he wanted their help, then he would ask for it. thankfully, iseul was not like that, the guy was more than happy to just sit down on the sidewalk next to him, have a smoke and just talk. and yuchan honestly wished that more people were like that and would quit being annoying and good samaritans.

[read more]

“I know you well enough,” Iseul returns, quick as a whip and entirely unrepentant. He watches Yuchan from the corner of his eye, expectant, and is ready when the pack and lighter are tossed his way. It’s not quite the same as an easy pass off, but really, Iseul should know better than to expect Yuchan, or all people, to go for the easy way out. It was like the male didn’t know the meaning of the word.

That’s a loaded question, if Iseul has ever heard one, and the host takes a moment to really thing about the question – and all of the answers he could offer – before he opts for the truth….or for some part of it. It’s not really lying if he doesn’t tell the whole truth, is it? 

Not his fault the question wasn’t the right one.

“As a human who, by present occupation, is often in the company of members of the Noctis clan, the death of Go Jeon has affected a number of things in my life. In some aspect, it’s hardly noticeable. But in others, it’s the sort of change that is visible across the entire board.”

@vashaneul

There’s something inherently therapeutic about running. The steady beat of his shoes on the track, the whir of the treadmill underneath him, the distant conversation of those around him, every ragged breath from his lips, and his heartbeat in his ears, a steadfast reminded of i am alive i am alive i am alive. Iseul likes it. He likes his mornings at the gym, spent alternating between treadmill and the stairmill with the occasional bounce to the weights. It gives him a routine, and one Iseul is grateful for when the nights are hard and the mornings are harder, and everything sucks so much more in the cold, grey light of dawn.