Alas, we aspire ➻ G O O D N I G H T
Heechul..
Heechul looked down at Seoul for the last time, and doing so, he got even more excited to see what would happen next. “They’re all there, baby.” He whispered, taking Sulli’s hands and interlacing their fingers. He took another silent moment to feel her warm hands against his. “Jinri-ah…” he tilted his head to look down at her “I love you.” Heechul muttered and smiled. He’d repeat that awful cliché for the last time, and from now on, he wouldn’t need to say it, repeat it, and affirm it everyday. They would just be it, eternally.
The annoying and distant sound of the cars suddenly became a respectful silence. The lights of the busy city went out, too afraid to disturb the two lovers as they fell asleep.
Sulli..
His soothing affirmation of redemption only secured the smile on her pale features. Her digits weaved into his own, anchoring them together so whatever they endured from that moment on — she would be connected to him at the fingertips. Sulli’s build flinched as the opposing male plucked her very name from the depths of her soul. Jinri was the girl she left at the asylum, but..the way he spoke her title with such casualty..No, she never died. That sloppy girl immortalized herself within the cold heart of the woman now standing at her lover’s side. Love, of all things, is immune to any tragedy of death. It was the first time she had heard it from him and the last. “I love you too..so very, very much.” She felt herself respond, loud enough to he could hear, loud enough so God could hear, loud enough to Seoul would know.
The two, palm in palm, heart in heart..inhaled deeply before leaning forward every so slightly. The wind carried them away. Together they painted the perfect ending. Not in shades of blue or green, but in hope and madness. Every stroke matching that of the couple’s distorted builds on pavement. A smile cemented onto their lifeless features, if any remained. We do not grow absolutely, chronologically. We grow sometimes in one dimension, and not in another; unevenly. We grow partially. We are relative. We are mature in one realm, childish in another. The past, present, and future mingle and pull us backward, forward, or fix us in the present. We are made up of layers, cells, connections. In every dimension, it was the same for them. They lived together. They died together. Not as two, but one — with love.
They exhaled their darkness like constellations.. and fell asleep under its maddening beauty. Together. As one.
