all right, so perhaps haeil hadn’t meant to loiter about so severely around the vicinity of the lake again. it was just so… ineluctably interesting to him these days, from a superfluous kind of curiosity stand-point. of course it had nothing to do with the fact that he was warmer whenever he stood, or sat, or walked the edge of the lake. of course it had nothing to do with the freakish chain of nightmares that accompanied this ungodly mess on their town.
of course it also had nothing to do with mystifying way he could see the mirror-image of the sun, as clear as itself; buoyant. brilliant—and currently painfully unreachable, as it continues to leisure in its break from its pedestal on the sky. pity.
it had to have been about two in the afternoon—or somewhere within that timeframe. he’s not very certain. his circadian rhythm is all but a moot, useless bit of biological phenomena at this point, and he won’t be trying to correct it any time soon for as long as the sun kept at its hiding place and sky continued its depressing lethargy. haeil watches, wastes an indeterminate amount of his day just watching, and that sometimes tends to sort of… place him in new contexts.
so after an indeterminate amount of time wasted for an undetermined purpose, he hears her voice—baek seungjo’s—to his right and, at failing to conceive a fair estimate to her needs so that he could reassure her, he turns to her with a pinched expression. a parody of light grimly frames the soft lines of her jaw. he momentarily feels like he should offer his condolences. again, pity, it’s been rather dark for a few days.
“okay”, the first step to recovery is admitting that there’s a problem. this possibly implies that things might be worse— although “worse” is a terribly subjective concept that very few tend to disagree with. but it might be genuinely worse, or—
he’s getting ahead of himself. the second step is a task, a distraction, and he wordlessly gives her his lamp to hold, “tell me all about it. we’ll see what we can do.”
