the door swings shut behind her with a resounding click as quiet and careful footsteps are taken towards the door. one would doubt what the female is about to do yet jiyeon just wants one thing: access. she stares straight ahead unseeingly into the dimness as the pad of her thumb grazes the screen of his apartment lock, a faint shadow of a smile ghosting over her lips.
funny how i can remember your own code better than my own. then again, mine doesn’t change every two weeks for safety.
what are you waiting for?
and even as the voices in her head screech in protest for being here, her feet is already taking her to where she wants to go, where she wants to be, feathery steps readily tracing the familiar path she takes nearly every night into his bedroom. or at least at one point, it used to be every night. she enters hesitantly and inhales.
the room is filled with the scent of his cologne and automatically her heart is beating softly against her chest, the base of her neck, the pads of her fingertips- unexplainably louder, loudest when she’s preoccupied with thoughts of him.
his hair is in knots against his pillow, a curly haven of dissonance, and yet he still manages to entice. the fading, effervescent light of the dawn seems to bleed into his hair, light illuminating against dark strands. bags line his eyes, a likely product of the sleepless nights accumulated during his shifts, but that does not stop jiyeon from stepping closer to him, entranced like a mere child enchanted by a spell.
she remembers, amidst childish laughter and drinks from a few nights ago with her unnie, “say whatever it is you want to say before you run out of time. say it before it’s too late. say what you’re feeling, waiting is a mistake.“ hyunjung had said it with such intensity that it made goosebumps rise all over her flesh.
anticipation blooms at her fingertips as she reaches out towards him. is she daring enough? perhaps she is, perhaps she always will be. jiyeon agrees silently to herself as she sits to his left, the bed dipping slightly under her weight as she does so. her soft, tiny hands blindly seek his automatically, her fingertips mapping out each and every line of his palm as she studies his eyelids- thin, translucent skin with purple pale veins bubbling underneath. for a fleeting moment she wishes that she had caught him awake- she’d rather be staring into his intricate gaze, albeit swimming in the orbs darker than spilt ink and the midnight sky put together.
she murmurs his name beneath her breath like a prayer that she had forgotten long ago, and pauses to press her lips against his cheek, gifting him with a kiss that conveys what her eyes and the curve of her mouth don’t. offering him with a simple gesture what words can’t muster up.
will the day come when your locks would have been changed?
“i like you.” it comes out as a mere whisper, barely audible. but i don’t think you like me too.. i’m learning to accept the idea so i can swallow the possible truth better.
and then all too soon she was gone again, leaving behind only the faintest traces of her perfume, rumpled bedsheets and a tinge scarlet blossom on his pale skin.
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