#sevls

[madeintokyo]

ii.

it's my birthday. i've never celebrated it until now. we're lying in bed, a mess of skinny limbs under crumpled sheets with nothing on but warmth and love to give each other. with nicotine still fresh on my tongue and my own taste on hers. we are the star-crossed lovers, we're both high on this young love, this mad liaison. and now she's talking about taking naps on the rooftop under the starlit sky in kyoto. putting little pieces of our future together like a puzzle and it's nearly complete. i can feel my heart race, trying to catch up to the beat of hers as i say i want daifuku, nokcha and her lips [she tastes like valentine's that never ends] when we wake up. she looks at me with a shy frown, with that flustered brand of happiness in her dark brown eyes and i smile, fuck no, i grin. i'm embarrassing. she loves it. i prop myself up on an elbow, blowing the silky strands of her hair away from her beautiful face and tell her that you're a rare bird, trapped in this glass cage and i want to set you free. she stares up at me ; i think i see excitement, fear, confusion flickering across her pale visage. i want her to say yes, that she wants to be free so she can finally spread her wings because i know just how bad she wants to get out of this place that she's been in for too long. i want her to say a lot things, pour everything out but then i see her smile – a pretty little thing laced with  f a i t h. she wraps her arms around my neck, drags me down for a long, fervent kiss. and when i pull away, she whispers, " soon. "

[madeintokyo]

glass hearts. [ ᴀᴜ ]

Tʜᴇ sᴋʏ ᴡᴀs bruised like him – with 6 PM streaks of dark blue similar to the ones he had in his hair when he was seventeen and unruly. He sat on the balcony, watching the day grow a little older, a pistol and a knife in either hand which he held close as though they were his own stillborn with a cigarette in between his lips. The city was as restless as ever [matching his heart], a garden thronged with lights that never seemed bright enough while lost souls in racing cars down below were driving toward insanity maybe. Shit, he didn't care. All these thoughts were just the bastards of impatience. Faint stars studded the dim heavens now, and he took the thin, lethal instrument out from between his rosy petals then pulled up the mask to conceal the lower half of his pretty face, showing only irises bathed in honey that dug into you. The target was not the Politician himself, but rather his  h o m e  because what else would instill horror in his heart than finding his lush penthouse sort of vandalized and one wall smeared with blood-red paint that clearly read a warning once he returned from the dinner party? Mr. Park was a fucking idiot worthy of a bullet or two if he still proceeded with passing the new laws. He stood up, flicking the cigarette away before slipping the weapons out of sight, though where they were easy for him to grab ahold should he ever need them. The young assassin drew in a deep breath then skillfully, a trait mastered through blood, sweat and tears of constant training, climbed the railing and rose, capturing a steady balance without much effort as he walked along, to reach for one of the windows of the penthouse. Yoichi lifted himself up, unlocking the window handily with the switchblade he carried at all times then slithered inside, shadows as his clothes and silence at his feet. The room was empty with the lights turned off as expected. Finely furnished and touched by young elegance, he figured this must be the daughter's, who supposedly went along with her parents to attend the party that evening. His eyes flickered around while he took a few steps forward, closing the window behind him quietly then laid his attention on the small things about the room, one of which he picked up ; a glass decoration. He turned it in his hand as if it was fascinating, studying it carefully as if he cared before he raised it to smash it on the floor– Except he didn't, of course... because the door was then pulled open and a certain young lady walked in. And just like that, his heart was gone. Fuck. The Politician's Daughter was a beauty.

[archive4selentieun]

" it's time you let the old wounds heal."

"It's time you let the old wounds heal."

She isn’t too sure if she’s making it more difficult for herself, to let the wounds heal and to let go completely. People can constantly tell her, repeat it every single day and she would sit there silently in order to listen obediently but it takes time. Right? That’s what Naeun was informed by another. Things take time, therefore people can understand patience for good things but she never figured out how to let these wounds heal. They’re still there, etched along her back down to certain areas of her arm. Cuts were faded, bruises were beginning to disappear but with bandages and cleaning them properly, it’ll disappear. Those wounds, Naeun is never worried about.

It’s the way people constantly left her goodbye without an explanation, making her feel as if she wasn’t worth a word to begin with. So she mirrors their movements, disappearing unexpectedly when she pleases too and somehow it resulted into accidentally pain on loved ones depending on if they ever found out or they were oblivious to her leaving for days or weeks even. Or the male who took care of her constantly tugged her down, snatching the weaknesses and displaying it in front of her eyes to observe and she chokes upon her words. Wanting to protest but she could barely recollect herself by then.

Seul informed her otherwise, she said so herself to let them heal but she tried all this time. Figuring out what hurt the most, clawing the imperfections and sinking her bare hands into what she despises in order to remove this pain that continued to cut and sink deeper into the wounds.

“And?” Pausing, peering over at the other woman, lips displaying a soft smile. Not intended to show any mockery of what the other just said but it was mainly a reminder for Naeun. “What if these old wounds already healed?” Then what? The brunette expecting another wound to appear, plenty of them, a cycle of the repetitive actions and thoughts that happened the past three years or even before the accident as well. And even then, she’ll remember what Seul said.

Within time, old wounds will heal.

[jaebumin-blog]

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             ❝ Well that was unexpected. ❞

[kxmyvng]

☆ ,

☆: a time you looked at the stars

"Remember that greenhouse I mentioned? Well that apartment that I was living in was right above this music shop, and the owner... We'll call him Mr. Kim. Mr. Kim was this really cool guy, about 25, 26... Somewhere around there. And he would let me come down and help him out in exchange for the living space. But besides that, he also had me go out to help him tend to the plants in the greenhouse so that they wouldn't die. I was really surprised to know that it belonged to him--even though, looking back on it, who else would it have belonged to?--but he was really enthusiastic about it. Which was weird, because Mr. Kim wasn't the kind of guy that got excited easily. He was really gruff and kind of grumpy most of the time. Anyway, I digress-- The first time he ever showed it to me, I fell in love. I was very clumsy, and I broke a few flower pots--okay, more than a few, but still--" He laughed. "But he had me helping him until it was dark out, and then the both of us laid out on the roof and stared up at the stars. He gave me a beer to drink, but I only took one sip because it tasted nasty to me. So we just laid there, and I listened to him tell me all of these stories about this band he used to be in, and how they went all over the place. He always had a lot of stories to tell... He used to be the fist person I thought of when I saw the stars..."

[hxvk-blog]

✿

✿: something beautiful 

i was a really small brat, but i can remember it like it was yesterday. the last time i saw her, i mean. she was the light of my life, she was always smiling, and she gave me anything i wanted. the ten years i spent with her will always make me feel lighter, the memories will never stop making me cry. i remember everything about her--her long, straight red hair, her long eyelashes and the solid black eyes they protected. and her smile--everyone always said i had her smile, but i don't know about it. her smile was literally the perfect smile, the smile. 

after she was taken away from me, i didn't think i could ever look at anything that was beautiful again. and that didn't seem like a problem, considering where i was for centuries after her murder. 

but, like the part of me that is human, i longed to see beauty again. 

and surprisingly, i found it.