( via source from ) - always accepting / @ohdais
send me a ship and/or one of these and i'll write a mini fic.11. things you ( daisy ) said when you were drunk.
IT’S TWO IN THE MORNING, she smells like all the stress that was held on for this week. naeun won’t understand this concept of drinking to the point of intoxication, reminders of her father’s addiction. she doesn’t feel comfortable but she needs to lead daisy elsewhere before someone takes her. it’s considered suspicious to be out at this evening but she left her side occupation few minutes ago to help clean. avoiding bars or clubs due to the discomfort of passive aggressive men trying to come forth towards the now brunette, she isn’t fond of it.
when daisy greets her then, her expression is radiant. hands waving to her direction, ushering over to. “maybe you should go home.” naeun suggested but her head shakes stubbornly, scoffing as she pulls back to show the younger that she can steady herself at her two feet. she falls two seconds afterwards, physically and emotionally.
“i could have done better.” she breathes out, in the middle of her trying to lead her into the place she called home. hiding who she was for the sake of people not recognizing her, the scarf that was once resting over her neck was around daisy’s. it’s cold and despite her most likely concerning her family by not coming home too soon. friends matter too, she mattered to naeun.
eyes fixing themselves on the other, door nudged aside to step in to drop the other off. “but you’re doing enough.” but who was she to say such positivity when she’s constantly overworking herself to the point of sadness.
“i’m tired.” her laughter sounds tiresome, forceful even and somehow it makes the younger even more upset to see. trying to adjusts the lights in the cozy area so it wouldn’t hurt the other’s eyesight. “i just wanted to be good enough, i’m trying.” slurred words become more silent and she looks over to the side with eyelids fluttering closed.
naeun takes a while, making sure the other drifted to sleep. words of overwhelming emotions slurred out of her lips and she bites down on her lower lip in concern. scribbling what she could have said to ease the pain when her mind told her to halt every time her lips parted. she’s sorry, she couldn’t do much at the moment.
‘you’ll be okay.’ is sketched out on a small piece of paper that was ripped off steadily, laid underneath the glass cup. retracing words daisy said, sensitive and raw. completely who she was behind the mask, who she is in comparison to the female who passionately does her work on stage.
