JYJ – Long Way
avtvmnchild
Kim stuffed his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. It was spring and it still felt like winter even in the beach. It was a bad idea to walk over the sand with shoes, but then again it wasn’t like recently he had been coming up with the brightest plans ever.
A small, ironic smile danced across his lips as he closed his eyes for a moment, ears intent on listening to the Japanese song playing through the earbuds. He sang it out loud with an even and low voice just as a sense of melancholy washed over him. It was funny when he got into these moods, he thought as his eyes fluttered open: it was like seeing the world through different glasses, as if he was part of nature in a way being a normal human being in a big city could never even imagine to be.
The sound of the waves overlapping one after another could reach his ears and it was inspiring in the same way it all evoked flashes of a past he remembered nothing about. Sound was a set of waves of a frequency that traveled with the wind, another set of strings pulled by a pre-established order that could be altered, he recited inwardly as his hands came out from their hiding inside his pockets.
He stretched out, hoodie and shirt riding up a bit just as he turned to look at the view the sea was offering while the sun was kissing the world goodbye. So there went another day, he told to himself as the last beams of light got lost under heavy clouds announcing an upcoming storm. Kim wrinkled his nose, turning around to kick a big amount of sand forwards, not expecting at all to see anyone standing so close to the water.
His eyes widened when he realized that he had been mistaken, and while others might find it simple to just apologize and try to check on the affected one’s condition, that wasn’t easy for him. His mouth opened and closed a couple of times as he raked through his brain to find what to say, but instead he just bowed and then continued to walk, brushing past the stranger’s arm in his attempt to flee from the scene.
Observing his fellow kind at work is becoming a stranger and stranger pass-time, in the way the sight makes Jongin feel distant, detached...the grand results of busy muses’ performances could prove to be monotone in his eyes. Such is never the case for the human’s side to it all, of course, fresh wonder coursing through their veins and fingertips itching towards some form of creative outlet. “Brother,” enter the calming voice of one muse he’d been watching, discreetly floating her way to his side, her feet softly coming to rest on the pavement below. “why do you continue to dwell on these humans?” His dark eyes briefly scan her over...elegantly pale skin, short and sleek black hair, lips an eye-catching shade of red, petite figure. Beautiful, of course, as they all were. He cannot recall her name, they don’t truly have “names” anyway, to him, she was simply “sister”. “What can this languid existence bring you? You should not even be in Korea anymore, either. Most of us leave to another part of the world in half the time you have chosen to spend here.” She knows, it is because of her. The mortal Jongin dared to fall in love with. In spite of this knowledge, she remains incapable of understanding her company’s plight, because she has not been infected with emotions. The muse stares at her for a long time, before an icy gaze plainly drifts back to the busy streets ahead. To this, the feminine spirit emits a dejected sigh, just like all the others have, before she glides away and unaffectedly resumes her purpose.
He tries to remember the time he could do that...the time he didn’t question a thing. A quietly restless fit emerges within, and Jongin travels to the beach, seeking some change of scenery. Who knows how long he’d been standing there, cosmic gaze following the movements of the sea with no thoughts in particular occupying his mind. Such idleness is jarringly interrupted, the muse feeling a kick-full of sand smacking the back of his leg. “...” He’s not upset, and initially all the reaction he provides is a glance over his shoulder to catch sight of the aggressor, who provides a hasty bow till he’s up and quick-footed in his departure. Recognition flits in Jongin’s head, and his voice is heard calling out, “Are you the owner of Le Petite Fleur?”
