if only you knew.
“just trust me.”
it’s easier said than done.
the library is in the middle of the day’s quiet pause, only one customer tucked in a corner and nothing for the librarian to do but sit with her thoughts. the way she began her life as a human was far from ideal, looking back, but at least then it was not complicated. now everything is a mess, and every moment she has spare her mind becomes tangled in thoughts and feelings.
for someone who has the ability to expose even the deepest of secrets, and knowing that even those who she might be close to trusting could be hiding the darkest of betrayal, trust is not a simple matter. is it possible for anyone to truly trust another? it feels like too heavy a burden.
“why won’t you trust me?”
with her members from the organisation, perhaps, there is the sense of loyalty. a kind of a trust that might night be in regards of all matters but at least in their goal towards the better world. expectation. tolerance. she does not like all her members, honestly, and does not believe in all of them either. because she knows, from experience.
the answer is obvious, she feel no need to give it. all people have signs, habits that give away their true natures. the falsely placed smile, or the disinterested gaze, soobin has come to recognize. she is constantly searching his face for them, waiting for the crack in his facade. but he is too good at his act, so much so that she’d almost dare believe him.
she should provoke him. she should leave him. the longer she stays by his side the longer she stays tangled, and there is no time for this. soobin has greater things to attend to than the complications of a human who is too good to be true. he says he cannot live without her, but the her he speaks of died four years ago. there it is, plain and simple.
a book is placed on the counter, and she looks up to meet eyes with him. it seems her shift is already over. he smiles, and she gives him a faint one back.
how can i trust you, when all i do is lie back?
