4 cigs is all it takes âą escapism âą đš
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@hanaxxad
4 cigs is all it takes âą escapism âą đš
acaciaâs & daisyâs /hana&taejun
adxyong:
he can feel it spiraling, he can see the pain flash in her eyes like lightning but he canât figure out why. her words are harsh as usual, angry and hot, punches to the gut and once again heâs reminded that he doesnât really know her anymore. the girl he remembered, the girl with the flowers, the spunk, the girl who had so clearly had a crush on him. she was gone.Â
how long had she been gone? where had she gone to?     there is no you and me.          you donât know me. his stomach drops, burns, almost as if he can feel himself sobering instantly and he nearly flinches at the words. it didnât have to get worse, they were at the bottom. how much lower could she make him feel? but then she starts talking about those days. the past. the days when his heart used to beat with fondness when she was near. teenage affection, humming like rain against the pavement, she always knew what to do to calm him. in truth, heâs sure he achieved his goal to this day because he had her support. her to lean on. how could she spit in the face of such memories? taejun tenses, spine going rigid in the face of such an assault.       and then thereâs no question left. her words make everything too clear. too clear and too wrong. hana, the idiot. hana who seems to think that he has feelings for soojin. he could laugh if he wasnât so shocked, so offended, so genuinely hurt beneath it all.    youâre the idiot. and then she drops the bomb. he couldnât have been prepared if he tried. his heart hammers against the back of his spine as she leans into him, as though she had crashed and not gently pulled him close. as though he had not leaned down willingly, every inch of his body in confliction as she touches him. sheâs not the little girl she used to be, playing at crushes with him in high school, kisses to his cheek on the same breath she called his girlfriend a bitch. he had laughed then, unbearably fond of her, so that nothing she did could have pried him away. nothing but life, nothing but college and circumstances. her mouth is too much, each tongue stroke seems to speak words, silent words that rattle around in his brain with whatâs left of his buzz. he breathes in deep through his nose and his eyes flutter closed, arms hang at his sides as he debates. such a debate. he debates leaving her here, pushing her away. she is hana, sheâs his little treasure from those days. he still wore the bracelet she made for him, he still thought of her plants and her drawings. from time to time.  it takes him too long before he can come to a decision. he kisses her back, a fire in the pit of his stomach that consists almost entirely of confusion and hurt. tongue slipping against her lip insistently, before his hands slip up her forearms to rest at her biceps, holding her softly. the kiss is brief and warm and beautiful in ways he was already in denial over. before he lightly tugs, pulls her arms away, leans his head back slightly out of reach. still lightly holding her, at armâs length. âsoojin,â he breathes, out of breath because sheâs robbed him. âis not my girlfriend, i donât know what you think you know but youâre wrong. you impossible girlâŠâ god, he hopes sheâll listen to him, for once. see the truth in his eyes. he shakes his head, dropping his forehead to hers, trying with all of his might to get control of himself, before he forever changes the way he sees his beautiful flower from his troubled childhood.
Hana had loved twice in her life, though sheâd never admit to herself that she loved Taejun -- that sheâd never stopped. He was the first normal in her erratic life, the first boy to make her feel butterflies in the pits of her stomach -- the one who made her feel like a normal little girl. With him she wasnât feared and with him she neednât kill. With him she could play make-believe, that she was simply a quirky young girl from the flower-shop who made stupid decisions and had paint-splattered tips. Perhaps that was why she sought him out constantly. But that was in the past. And the present was a harsh reality in which her mere presence could bring him danger -- in which he could uncover the truth: that she was a monster.
Yet in her drunken stupor sheâd crossed the line. sheâd allowed intoxication to play out her deepest desires. It was ironic -- how fast things could change. It seemed only yesterday that sheâd acted upon her childish whims, curiosity and naivety prompting her petite body to stand on itâs tip-toes to give him a quick sweet peck, mimicking the actions of his then-girlfriend simply because sheâd wondered what all the hype was about. And in giving him her first kiss, sheâd gained the memory of a frazzled, speechless, blushing Taejun whoâd pushed her away with a chuckle. Yet now, the same boy, now a man and so much taller than her enveloped her body and her lips.Â
It surprises her that he returns her kiss, her affections, as his tongue glazes over her brims. And without reservations she opens them, accepts him, closing her eyes as she gets lost in his taste, his embrace, and his smell. Â
Her eyes flutter open as he pulls away, her breathing heavy and her cheeks flushed. There is a certain shyness surrounding her, rare to see in Hana, as she catches Taejunâs intense stare. And though she feels vulnerable, his words seems to soothe her. Though, meticulous as ever, her lips twitch when he calls her an impossible girl. âI am not a girl.â She insists, having wanted to shed the skin of the innocent young flower he seems to see her as from the first day theyâd met. It brings back a million memories, a million play tantrums and banter as she insists sheâs not a little girl. âprove it.â she whispers, eyes closed as she rests her forehead against him before she moves again. âprove it.â she insists, liquor stained breath breathing against his neck as she tilts her head up as she leans away.Â
adkimtaehyung:
âI can ready perfectly fine,â he retorted with a shrug, as he shuffled behind her, touching things in his wake as he did.  He set the cup down, taking the box as it was shoved into his chest while grumbling, âhey now, Iâm perfectly capable of liking herâŠsomedayâŠpossibly,â he paused momentarily, âyeah never mind, and I mean, a few of your boys are really prettyâŠ.the new guy Yejun? Such a nice piece of ass, he also really likes my Playstation,  so willing to please, youâve hired a great worker.â He smirked sheepishly eyeing the croissants in the basket.
âAnd I like my fair share of tits, I, a man of diversity, am not only limited to those who come with a set of balls Noona,â he said flatly, setting the crate down before hopping up on the counter, leaning back on his hands as he watched her walk around.
âyikes, they were talking about me? Not good, gotta tell Chungha to keep it hush hush, maybe tell her I donât want to be public about anything given my âstatusâ or something stupid enough for her to believeâŠnot a bright girl,â he added honestly grabbing one of the croissants out of the basket, tearing off a piece and popping it in his mouth. âOh, come ooon, you donât need to do that.âÂ
âreally?â Hana queried, âbecause from the looks of it you must suck because every door youâve passed through has said âemployees only.ââ she raises a brow, âyou an employee?â she brings her fingers to her lips, âmmm, or I guess youâll be free labor for the day then.â she eyes the cup of coffee, âconsidering Iâve already fed you to an extent.â she chuckles.Â
Though a sigh quickly returns as she sets three cheesecakes onto the platter before her. âyah.â she throws a wet towel at his head, âdonât fuck the help.â she states blatantly, âand also get your ass off the counters Tae. Food is made in here. I donât need your ass soiling the tables.â she muses. Hana never quite cared for Taehyung flirting with the waitresses, because usually his allure would wear off a few months in, but she knew the cute boys, especially the ones that swung both ways, were the ones to worry about. She didnât need the hassle of hiring new help every month or so. It was quite troublesome.Â
Though a laugh does make its way to her lips as he describes himself as a man of diversity. âwe both know you like dick, so letâs not kid ourselves mm.â After setting out the array of pastries onto the tray, Hana picks it up and uses her elbow to push him off the table. âgrab that bowl of croissant and make yourself useful, and I see you go near Chungha or any of my baristas and I swear Taehyung Iâll make your life a living hell.â Hana threatened, though there wasnât much weight in her words. They seemed to have the same conversation everytime he stepped into the coffee shop.
adkimtaehyung:
âI have no idea what youâre talking about,â Taehyung said in response, all the while sending a cheeky wink in Weeinâs direction before following Hana through the door. Taehyung knew he wasnât supposed to be back here, but he trudged behind her, small smirk on his lips and free coffee in hand.Â
âNoona, I donât know why you think Iâm always trying to lead some of them on, maybe I really like them, Weein is pretty, and so niceâŠ.nice tits too.â He said with a shrug, lips wrapping back around his straw, but if anyone knew Taehyung well, as well as Hana did, knew that if he were to ever get serious with anyone, theyâre more likely to have something dangling between their legs than a pair of ânice titsâ. âIâll have you know I took, Chungha out on a date last week,â he said matter of factly, âwe went mini golfing and had street food, it was niceâŠbut I seemed to haveâŠmiss placed her number.â
His smirk was sly as he trailed behind her, shoving his hand in the pocket of the jacket he had thrown over his hoodie, in spite of it still being summer time, the day was actually more cold than comfortably cool, so he settled for a more masculine look today, his more effeminate clothes a lot more revealing. âOn the bright sideâŠshe makes a damn good espresso, I may justâŠfind it again.â
âYah --â Hana exclaimed as Taehyung follows behind her even the sign says âemployees only.â A glare is flashed in his direction as she shakes her head. It was no longer surprising for Hana that the little one was always breaking rules her rules especially as if this place was as much his as it was hers. âIâm starting to think you donât know how to read either Tae.â She muses aloud, walking through another set of doors as she enters the kitchen to restock some pastries.Â
Picking up a basket of chocolate croissants, Hana pushes it against Taehyungâs chest. If he was following her around, he might as well make himself useful. âoh please. save your crap for people whoâll actually believe you.â she rolls her eyes as she moves about the kitchen to collect some more items to stock. âif tits could get you hard, I think Iâd be more worried. but at least now you know why I never hire pretty boys.â which was a lie, because she did. Though she always made a note to keep them on the shifts that Taehyung was more or less occupied (not that sheâd ever disclose such information to him.)Â
âgod, that explains why the group of them were whispering behind the pastry rack the other day. misplaced number my ass.â she chides, âif you keep this up Iâm going to ban you from the Cafe. Tape your face up on the door with the sign âdo not enterâ plastered over it.â Hana threatens.Â
Night out /Hayoung&Hana
adhayoung:
Hayoung had already started to pack her things and get ready to leave whens she heard the door open. From the silence that followed, Hayoung didnât need to turn around to find out what was going on. Some drunk men must have made their way back here, thinking they could get a little private actions from the dancers. The men started to laugh and were beginning to get too close to the other girls. Hayoung stood and turned around, glaring. âWhat do you think youâre doing? Canât you read? No customers back here.â She spoke loudly, her voice carrying across the room. The other girls nodded and stepped behind Hayoung. Maybe they thought she could protect them. Looking at the group of men, Hayoung wouldnât be able to take them down all by herself. She was hoping she could scare them off with her words, but she was losing hope quickly.
One of the men grabbed her by the hand, âah donât be like that babeâ he crooned in her ear. She shuddered and tried to pull away. For a drunk man, he wasnât clumsy or lacked balance. He was still much stronger than her. Although she knew Taekwondo, she wasnât sure if it was the best time and place to try it. The other girls could get hurt, and she was outnumbered. She continued to try to pull her wrist free from his grasp. âYou need to leave before I call security.â She warned. The men just laughed at her words, and stepped closer to her. Hayoung began to panic. She was usually calm and collected, but for some reason she couldnât think clearly. Her heart was beating so fast and her knees quivered. Even though she was scared, she didnât let it show in her voice. There was no hesitation or quiver when she continued to warn them, âIâm giving you one last chance to leave,â She hissed, âGet out of here.â
The men laughed again, smirking. âYeah? Or what?â
Men disgusted her at times. Especially drunk old ones that tended to prey on helpless females. Hana hated the stereotypes, but she couldnât deny that in essence, it was always true. And so she refrained from rolling her eyes as she watched the men slip into forbidden territory -- the changing room of the girls.Â
âannoying.â Hana muttered under her breath as she shook her head, a sigh escaping her lips as she wondered why she was the one always cleaning up these messes. Surely, she wasnât paid enough to deal with assholes such as these. She could hear the drunken slurs of the men in the room, could imagine just what they were doing and that there would always be that one individual who was willing to step up even if they were terrified inside.Â
And who wouldnât be. When you were outnumbered and over-powered? And though such fears were so distant Hana could barely remember how it felt to be helpless, she knew that there were still many many individuals that felt emotions (both the good and bad) more so than she did.Â
Hana kicked opened the door, an icy stare resting upon the group of men cornering one of the dancers who dared to speak up. âor oh i donât know,â Hana made her rounds as she kicked the men so that in their drunken stupor, they fell towards the ground, âI make sure you wonât be able to feel for a long long time.â she pulls a the collar of the one speaking, whispering in his ear. âtrust me. you donât want your dick hanging up on the wall of glory, as they say, in the other room. so scram wonât ya?â she smiles, pushing harshly to the ground.Â
unexpected visitors /open
adyujeong:
So engrossed in writing her latest article, Yujeong had stayed at her regular café for far too long. It would not be the first time that she had stayed well past the closing hours because for Yujeong, as long as there was still coffee in her cup and her laptop was well charged, she could be there for the rest of her life if she was allowed to. It was not until her phone buzzed with a message did Yujeong realise what time it was. And she only knew because the message was from a friend asking if she would like to meet at their usual meeting place.
âOh shitâŠâ Yujeong muttered to herself, packing up her laptop, her notebook, and her pencil case. She looked around to make sure that there was no one around. Why did the staff not kick her out when they were closing? What if she was locked in for the night?
With everything gathered up, Yujeong stood and rushed toward the door. Except she was not watching where she was going. Specifically, where her bag was going. As she was passing by, Yujeong somehow managed to knock over some cups. But it was the voice that came right after that made Yujeong really cringed.
âI am so sorry,â she said, turning around. âHow much are they? Iâll pay for them right now.â
There is a sigh that escapes hanaâs lips as she bends down to pick up the broken and scattered ceramic cup that litters the floor. Hana could never understand how such incidents were so common. Sure, there were a few lights that dimly lit the usually bright cafe, but surely one could tell when it was closing and when it wasnât couldnât they?Â
And Yet, stowaways were so common Hana wondered if she should even be surprised anymore. âmm, well, it canât be undone. just watch where youâre going next time.â Hana replied back, voice softening up if only because she recognizes Yujeong as a regular. While Hana never spoke directly to Yujeong often, the brunette was imprinted in her memory as the freelance journalist that could be seen often at Bellefleur, coffee and laptop in hand.Â
âwhat if I told you they were priceless -- a gift.â Hana queried.Â
adwoojin:
ââââ he enters the shop under false pretenses, a wolf in sheepâs clothing, with his usual well worn and sensible suit traded in for plain-front slacks and untucked button-up, jacket and scarf. he wears a baseball cap, his usual sneakers, all together, a cursory disguise. he blends in almost too well, it almost makes him uncomfortable; all of his hard work at becoming a well-respected man, an inspector, temporarily laid aside. but he canât show up here, before her, in his usual prudence.      today he has business to attend to that requires painting the velvety petals of his flowers shades of gray to blend-in. today he reaches out for a ghost, a figment of his past that intertwines with his current day, his career, his entire life. though he had not gone as far as to reach out to her, he had kept touch with her whereabouts. he was aware of where she stayed, he knew the way she spent her time. oh god he knew. ,he heard so many things, rumors impossible to miss like stepping on sand spurs in fields of grass. his department was buzzing with whispers. that she had been losing touch. that hana, the hana who was so deep in the pits of hell, had succumbed to itâs plague. had been losing not just value as an asset, but was quickly becoming nearly a suspect.       woojin dare not believe it. he remembered karoke, bowling, outings with her, as her head would stick in through the window of their patrol car, soft hair feathering past her jaw as she craned in to speak to his partner. sometimes to speak to him too. hana had been a good girl, not his girl, but a good one all the same.    she was doing this for his ex-partner, he liked to think. she was pursuing her own form of justice. this was like that, like what he was doing, only different.    he enters her little hovel with eyes nearly hidden beneath the brim of his cap, finding a free spot to sit in the far corner of the space. itâs too quaint here, much like she is â like she was, he can no longer be positive that she remains that way. but if this little haven reflects, she canât have changed so much. thatâs what he wants to believe.    when the employee drifts to take care of him, he gives her a dashing smile, disarming no doubt, wolfs teeth gleaming like the sun, and asks to speak to the owner. he knows sheâs in, heâs all too aware. he unfurls his phone to scan his screen as he waits. today he comes not on personal endeavors but for business. as her contact. today she must see him. he gave the employee a very specific message, one that hana would understand. one to imply that her point of contact was here, question is, was she prepared for just who said contact is? he doubts it. he doesnât mean to spring this on her but unfortunately, there is little other choice.
@hanaxxad
Thereâs a bustle of activity and clinking of coffee mugs as Hanaâs eyes flutter awake. The warmth sunlight of the morning shines into Bellefleur, illuminating her stark white sheets as Lordeâs âliabilityâ plays softly in the background, remixing in with the soft chatter below and the calling out of orders. These were the sounds that awoke her each morning -- if she wasnât already awake already -- and was both the best and worst times of her day. And from here on, she could choose how to go about it. Sometimes she chose to join her hardworking task force of cashiers, baristas, and painters, donning the mask of Hana, the owner of Bellefleur. Other times she chose to go about on her errands, doing as she pleased on the streets of Seoul. Sometimes duty called and sheâd be forced to report to the tigers, perhaps to train another asset or simply to go on a mission herself.Â
Today, however, she was feeling the urge to paint. To create. And so after a refreshing shower to wake up her, Hana sat upon her familiar stool, easel in hand as colors collided with canvas. Only, the footsteps on her staircase brought her back to reality. âWhat is it.â Hanaâs voice rings out even before the individual has made her presence known. Hana knew all too well that her employees rarely ever walked up those stairs unless it was something urgent. Perhaps a hard-to-handle customer, an emergency....or oh shit. How could she forget. Today was the day her contact would come in. new, she heard. Because the other one had requested heâd been taken off her case. Something about her inability to co-operate or some other bullshit excuse theyâd give. âIâll be right with him, sitting in the corner right?â Hana queried, slipping out of her painting smock to reveal the jeans and half-tucked loose blouse underneath -- her usual casual attire.Â
She makes her way down the steps and into the kitchen, taking out a wax sheet that every pastry rests upon and scribbles down a few names. Plating the tiramisu perfectly over the written words before boxing the order up. Owning Bellefleur made it the perfect spot of information exchange. There was constantly a buzz of activity, the soft-chatters drowning out any potential eavesdroppers. Her own personal security measures made sure that voice-tapping and the such didnât work within her vicinities, and knowing the space at heart, Hana was never afraid.Â
The door of the kitchen swing open as Hana makes her way towards her contact, and though heâs inconspicuous, blending in perfectly, she can still tell. The slight tension in his shoulders, eyes locked on his screen as most people are these days. It isnât until she gets closer that she stops, freezing besides one of the tables as if time slowed to a seething halt. It canât be him. But sheâd never forget, could never forget, woojin. It was the baseball cap that ticked her off, the worn-out sneakers that confirmed her suspicious, and the wry smile hiding beneath the scarf that re-affirmed it.Â
Overwhelmed, and she canât help but lean against the wooden table for support as she wills her knees to not give away. The memories come too fast, too strong, unfurling from the metal gates she thought sheâd locked. The laughter, the banter, the chiding teases exchanged -- the warmth of it all only making the ache in her heart stronger, stronger because the void of loss was irreplaceable. because seeing him, she knew that he...the one she loved...was gone.Â
Yet, weakness was not something she allowed herself to show, and perhaps from years of practice, Hana pushed such feelings away. Forcing herself to don an air of nonchalance as she placed the paper bag before the other, sliding into the seat as her voice pierces the air. âI see youâre still too poor to afford new shoes hmm.âÂ
adkimtaehyung:
@hanaxxad
Taehyung flashed his signature grin, his gaze sultry as he leaned over the counter. The younger girl completely swooned, already putty in his hands as he whispered in her ear, lip coming between his teeth at her shy giggle. The blonde would probably hold his promise to her, take her out, wine and dine her, but his promise of them going any further was in vain. This routine was common, which ever one of Hanaâs barista happened to be working, happened to fall under Taehyungâs spell, whether it was a new buss boy who popped  hard on when he trudged in in ripped jeans and fishnets, or the cashier girl who melted for his hair pushed back in a hat and his piercing gaze and deep voice.  Finessing was easy, and his reward, though trivial, free coffee.
âOh please you donât have to do that,â he said with a fake pout as the young girl, red faced handed him his latte and zeroâd out the charge, he smirked at the little piece of paper attached to the cup âWeein,â with a little heart and her phone number. Little did she know that he probably wouldnât call, but he would rack up excuses every time he entered the shop and talk her up all over again.
While owning her own store had itâs perks -- such as living on oneâs own schedule -- it also came with a plethora of busy work. There was a constant need to make sure things were going smoothly. Inventory to stock, shipments to be made, and even lessons to be taught. But Hana had long since taken advantage of her funds and hired multiple staff so that bellefleur was the well-oiled-machine it was today. Many of her baristas and workers had been with her since the storeâs opening day, and with the help of her trusted workers, the store ran itself more so than anything else. Perhaps it was because Hana prided herself on the enjoyment of each worker she employed. Upon signing the contract after their orientation period, they were part of the bellefleur family -- even thought it was a cafe, Hana was quite selective in the employees she brought on board. Unlike at Seoul Tigers or any other shop, there wasnât a specific hierarchy at Bellefleur. Youâd see Hana wiping down the tables when the shop got busy, or a barista taking out the trash when the kitchen staff couldnât -- It was a you help me, I help you agreement. It was a safe place and a place of creation.
Coming back in after running her morning errands, loâandâbehold the sight she finds herself embarking upon. A sigh escapes her lips as she shakes her head lightly, walking up to the pretty boy in ripped jeans finessing yet again one of her baristas for free coffee. A heavy wack (though playful) lands on Taehyungâs head before Hana enters the space marked for employees only, flashing him a look past the barista expresso machines as Weein scurries away. âyouâve got to stop leading these poor girls on Tae. Keep going at it and there wonât be anyone left to make coffee.â she jests with a shake of her head.Â
unexpected visitors /open
hanaxxad:
It was long past Bellefleurs closing hours â 1:05 a.m. to be exact â but no doubt someone had over-stayed their welcome. First she heard the shuffling of feet then a crash. Undoubtedly the uninvited individual had in their haste, accidentally broken a vase. It was not the first time that a fellow patron had stayed well past the hours of closing, somehow invading the eyes of her workers as they did their last call swoop.Â
It always troubled Hana to have to deal with them though, donning a polite face as sheâd escort the individuals out of her cafe and her house. But this time, thank god, she needed no mask or fake smile to paint her lips. But dis-taste and stoicism was allowed to stay. After all, theyâd broken something. Perhaps nothing too pricey, but something regardless.Â
âYouâll have to pay for that.â Her voice penetrates the darkness as she walks down the steps from her loft to the cafe, eyes scanning the darkness until she spots the other.Â
ohmygod yes this is the day Iâve been waiting for!! BUT ANYWAYS, HI EVERYONE!! Iâm Helen, Hanaâs Mun, and Iâm 21 & EST.  Iâm sooo excited for the re-opening. Anyways, give this post a like if you would like to plot, and below are just some snippets about Hana & hereâs a semi-finished plot page.Â
krystal for @yumce đŻ
â„ Â Krystal icons
In Bloomđđż
acaciaâs & daisyâs /hana&taejun
adxyong:
her anger is burning like an open flame, radiating from her brown eyes, from her tense shoulders and rigid back; he doesnât know what to do, and he might be a fool for the fact that he doesnât immediately back down. itâs too late for that now, heâs also angry, theyâre both two flames eager to burn each other and thereâs no logic left inside taejunâs thoughts right now. a blaze of irritation strikes up in him like sparks from a match at her words, strangely combined with a drowning sensation, like hot boiling water fills his head and he feels it all the way to his bones.      canât  be   fixed.           but thatâs ALL heâs wanted since the moment they came back together, since she came back into his life. it has to be possible. he catches the hitch in her words, wobbling, like heat wavering off of pavement and he doesnât have the time to stop and assess the situation, to possibly realize the implications of that tremble, until itâs too late. sheâs moved on, a flood of words, responses that snap like a whip and he feels the sting even through being tipsy and angry all the same. sheâs closer now, he thinks, itâs all a little blurry, heâs a bit disoriented by the overwhelming emotions swirling around them like a whirlpool. but then the moment breaks, a crescendo that makes the anger sizzle out faster than throwing sand over the pit, something smoldering and compact left in itâs place. soojin.   fucking; soojin ⊠heâs speechless for a second, and hana continues unhindered, slinging these words at him that heâs quickly losing focus enough to recognize. because heâs all of a sudden, lost as hell. anger muted into pure, unadulterated annoyance. a hot coal still burning beneath the blanket of ash she had created with a single uttered name. âwhat the hell does soojin have to do with this? leave her out of this; she has nothing to do with you and me.â he snaps, eyes glowing with intensity he hopes she can feel down to her soul. âyou and soojinâŠâ he pauses, has to gather himself, âyou and soojin, do you really think this is about her?â thereâs something oddly cold seeping into his bones, like a breeze ready to blow out any remaining inklings of fire. he stops to look at her for the first time with clear eyes, uninfluenced even by alcohol, her features aged from all those years ago, but her spirit still sings the same melodies, beneath it all. âi didnât ask you to wait for me,â he swallows, posture uncoils like an unwound rope, gazing at her with consideration. ânever. not even back then. i canât ask you to wait for me. i didnât think that would matter, waiting, not waiting, itâs all the same bullshit. you and i donât need shit like waiting.â he thinks about leaving, about her disappearing, about their being separated by time. time was always an obstacle for them. never ceased its efforts to keep them apart. but heâs tired of the interference. âall that really fucking matters, is that i have you in my life again. thatâs all that matters to me. if you canât tell that iâm serious when i say it; youâre an idiot.â the word [ idiot ] wobbles, all of the heat sapping from it, leaving it cool, almost sour; a hint of humor coloring it blue.
âIt has everything to do with her.â Hana admits, her voice softer, weaker than before. She stares up at him, eyes searching for something (answers perhaps) as the intensity of his gaze slowly quells her irate flames. she finds none, but her anger flickers slowly until thereâs nothing but a pile of ash, washed away by the waves of jealously, hurt, and confusion that hits her suddenly -- because he was so quick to snap to soojinâs defense, so quick to speak on the other girlâs behalf. And thatâs when Hana knew, knew that the other girl had taken a seat in Taejunâs heart. Perhaps it was love. who knew. Because Taejun had never snapped at her. Not like that. Not on behalf of someone else -- not even the Ex of a childish past that Hana had called a bitch more than a few times.
âyou and me.â Hana scoffs softly, shaking her head as she looks back down. âThere is no you and me. You donât know meâ Her voice breaks a little as she looks back up at him, a million memories floating through her mind; a thousand daydreams she had of what couldâve been. âyou never did.â Her vision is blurry -- partly from intoxication and partly from the tears that threaten to spill. There is a distance in her tone, an iciness and coldness that had developed in the time that theyâd been apart, familiar to Taejun for it was the one that greeted him most mornings. But this time it was juxtaposed with her tears. With the vulnerability that was unlike the ice-queen -- usually so stoic and unnerved. They were tears of frustration because she couldnât voice the truth: that she was a monster. That he didnât know of her sins, didnât know her at her darkest. âyouâve never wanted me. and you wouldnât. I was just a fool to believe I actually mattered.â she confessed, words unfiltered, flinging from her lips the moment they popped into her head. âbut I know better now. I was just the kid that was always there right? Perhaps more of an annoyance than anything else right? Always popping by unexpected or knocking on your window and sneaking into your room when all you wanted to do was study and bringing you flowers and plants that you would just kill because you were so busy and making a mess on your floor with all my color pencils and markers and dragging you to places you didnât want to go and doing stupid shit all the time when all you wanted to do was study. When you shouldâve been with the bitch you called your girlfriend.â she took a deep breath, the liquor causing her to ramble all her thoughts with no relative order or coherency. âand now Iâm still that stupid girl, except you just canât stay away can you? Taking you in when youâre drunk off your fucking ass and taking care of you even though I was just the convenient choice the person to go to because soojin youâre fucking girlfriend or whatever canât give you the time of night. and donât go denying it Taejun, because that was her fucking sweater and god knows what else is upstairs in your apartment. And itâs unfair Taejun. Unfair that you come to me when youâre at your weakest when youâre thinking of her. When you have her to go back to.âÂ
There it was all out in the air. In that moment, Hana felt like a child. Whining, crying, breaking. In all twenty-five years of her life, Hana had only ever cried five times. The first was when her grandmother died, tears of vengeance streamed down her face; the second was when Taejun had left, truly left for his aspirations and deep down she knew things would never be the same again; the third was when she learned the truth of her father. The last two were for the other man. The one she believed she loved, but lost because death followed her. because everyone sheâs ever loved, has died.Â
Tears slowly trickled down her cheeks, voice soft as she whispered. âbut I did Taejun, not because you asked. not because I wanted to.....â her voice trailed off as she looked off into the distance. âI guess you just canât control these things.â and as much as she tried to deny it, as young as she was then, perhaps, Taejun was her first love. A young, innocent, butterflies in stomach type of love.Â
Though when she hears the word idiot, she instinctively snaps. âIâm the idiot?â Hana shakes her head in disbelief. He was the blockhead. The one that didnât understand, never understood (or at least thatâs what hana believed) and she was set on making him understand. Tonight at least. She would give herself tonight before sheâd disappear again, because she needed tonight to clear the slate, to be sane once more. Â
âyouâre the idiot.â Hana speaks frankly, before her arms move to wrap around his neck, pulling her body up and his down so that her brims press against his tenderly. Eyes fluttering aâclose, Hana kisses him, a soft peck that turns to something more, as if her kiss could give him all the answers -- of unspoken hidden affections; of the uncertainty and confusion that raced through her veins; of the fear that struck her at night for fear of losing him, killing him; of the jealously that tainted her brims at the thought of him kissing another -- as if kissing could make him understand.Â