tie me to melodies
@avryujin
between the cloudy mists of the weather outside and the dull, throaty scent of the cigarette smoldering between his lips, everything in the world right now is looking pretty grey to the boy who could be nothing much more than a simple mirage, and even the hummed notes springing from his fingertips lacing against tightened strings, tend to vibrate like memories full of nostalgia and bittersweet heartache. not his, mind you, never his, because grey boys in grey worlds feel as little of anything as possible, but somewhere between his music and the baritone of his companion’s voice, habaek thinks maybe he could slip into another’s skin for this single hour or so, maybe he could wear his friend’s life like a jacket.
not that he could bring himself to envy ryujin, as much as anybody could possibly envy a man made into death’s bitch, immortal despite the terror, the misery leaking from damn near every pore on the older man’s body, but there’s something about that, something about the way ryujin haunts himself, something about the way he ties his own shadow to his ankles and drags it around behind him, that draws on habaek’s attentions. for all his horror, habaek thinks ryujin is probably the coolest person he knows; he orbits the immortal’s life like a passing comet, a wannabe planet, although he knows he is nothing but a shooting star, a glimpse, a moment, a breath, in the lifespan of ryujin.
and that’s exactly why habaek likes being around him.
temporary. everything about habaek is temporary to an immortal. it’s the most free he’s felt in a long time.
“i’m still working on this bit right here,” he mutters around the cig as he trills his fingers along the set of chords and notes that feed into the main chorus line of an old blues song, the guitar doing its best to make up for habaek’s shortcomings, as it’s designed to do, but it’s not enough of course. nothing habaek could ever create could be enough to mask his complete fucked-upness. after a moment, he looks over at the other. “you’ve been alive so long, why haven’t you ever tried to be famous or something? a singer or whatever.”
