Self care sometimes is buying the biggest ice cream ever during lunchtime because you cannot handle your boss for a single extra second today but alas, you got bills to pay.
seen from China

seen from Australia

seen from Malaysia
seen from China

seen from Indonesia
seen from China

seen from Malaysia
seen from China
seen from Portugal
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from Portugal
seen from United States

seen from Portugal
seen from Portugal
seen from United States
seen from Portugal
seen from United States
seen from China

seen from Russia
Self care sometimes is buying the biggest ice cream ever during lunchtime because you cannot handle your boss for a single extra second today but alas, you got bills to pay.
You step outside when the air indoors feels like it’s strangling you. You breathe deeply: the night tastes sharp, giving you goosebumps.
You don’t hear him come up beside you—you never do.
Saeyoung takes your hand silently, his fingers rough as ever—reminding you, as always, of the burden he still carries. This makes you feel worse; your heart is in your ankles, draining out of your body, mingling with the dirt under your bare feet.
“Look up,” he says softly. You oblige him, hoping he’ll ignore your red eyes, the unsteady way you stand (knowing better).
“What?” you ask—harshly, rudely; but you’re used to the sky here, the empty expanse of it extending in all directions. Someday, you’d like to live in the city, close to other people. You don’t tell him this—not yet.
“I didn’t exactly pick this place for the aesthetics,” he mutters (bitterly, almost as if he’s read your mind). “But there’s one thing I like about it.”
Against your will, you feel yourself softening—your icy muscles melting at the sound of his voice: warm and bright, like spiced honey.
“What do you like about it?” you ask.
He wraps an arm around your shoulders and, without meaning to, you snuggle closer; ah, and his shirt is wrinkled (always), but his chest is firm and familiar.
“You can see more stars here,” he says quietly, “than anywhere else in the world, I think.”
And you spend so little time, you realize, standing outside your monstrosity of a home; you’re in or you’re out, cuddled up inside or coasting down the driveway in one of his fancy little cars. But as you focus on the massive sky, you see what he means: the stars feel much closer here, huge and almost tangible: like you could reach out and grab one, like you could lean back and let them carry you away.
“Yeah,” you breathe. His lips are on your temple, then, painfully tender. Saeyoung doesn’t ask what’s wrong, because he knows that sometimes it’s everything nothing all at once. He rests his free hand on your chest—fingers spread wide, almost like he’s enveloping your heart.
“Good,” he tells you, as you breathe with him; he listens to your heartbeat; tilts his head to rest it on top of yours. You are watching the stars, startled by the way they pulse, almost echoing the rhythm of your breathing; Saeyoung is watching you (he always is).
“They’re sort of...radiant,” you say—and you’re startled by how much clearer your voice sounds, as though the stars have lent you a tiny bit of their strength.
“Yeah,” he says—but he’s not looking at the sky at all. His eyes are every bit as bright as the galaxy as he gazes at your face: reverent, transfixed. “Radiant,” he whispers.
Ramadan is coming!!
I made you a Monday moodboard, because i love the pupper so much.
So much.
God I cannot wait for Siesta Key to start