second heartbeat.
@cvjongin
A deep shuddering breath and a sharp notion in his body, his mind, his magic had shook him and had left him leaving the doorway to Astronomy in a cascading shower of papers from his hand. He had stood there shocked and irritated beyond belief at his clumsiness. That had been a week ago. It had been the start of the downfall as he liked to call it. The beginning of a series of strange events that he thought nothing of until he started to connect the dots, carving out a constellation of sheer confusion and deep belief. Feeling phantom feelings that didn’t fit into his current situation, the pangs of happiness in moments of melancholy chased by warm satisfaction during his insomnia fueled walks all over the campus.
Initially Jeongguk had chalked it up to a rare coincidence, something easy to ignore. But a small inkling at the back of his mind, a dream of his brother raving about familiars and bonding and the side effects that would present themselves once the next step had been completed. And Jeongguk had shot out of bed at 4 am, a cold shiver running down his back. He had stumbled, wrapped up in blankets toward his textbooks and after an hour of intense reading he had laid his head down on the desk in disbelief. There was just no way. And imagine his surprise at the sensation of following a trail only he could sense, through the winding maze of campus and straight into view of Kim Jongin. Jeongguk could only stare on in shock before turning tail and running away.
With this new development had come the initial reaction, the rumors that spread about the two of them. Jeongguk knew half the campus had nothing but distaste in their mouths when speaking about his name. There were only a few, held close and tight that knew the true Jeon Jeongguk. The hopeless romantic who hid away his true feelings about bonding, an act so delicate, so pure, the melding of two individuals in complete trust and adoration. But as luck would have it, things can’t always stay a secret can they? A side effect, one completely uncontrollable had opened his mind entirely to another and Jeongguk had nothing else left to hide behind. No more smoke and mirrors.
And like a coward Jeongguk had taken to hiding out in the Labyrinth, tucking himself onto one of the benches with a book spread across his lap. It was the same on this warm autumn afternoon, a collective work of William Shakespeare sat idly on his lap as he chewed at the fingernail on his thumb, an unknown habit that only appears when he’s lost deep in thought.
