resonance

oc rp blog. zankyou no terror based. established since 2015.

[aseaofquotes]

Nicole Krauss, The History of Love

[violentwavesofemotion-deactivat]

You’re looking like you want to escape.

Joyce Carol Oates, from Lovely, Dark, Deep: Stories; “Sex with Camel,”

[yvnhai]

[kabonvi]

— home. *✲;

Hands riddled with cuts and bruises opens the door to her home and a wave of comfort envelopes itself around her like a ghostly hug welcoming her back to a place she had left so abruptly. Carmen steps inside, confident enough in her skills to bypass her Husband’s security to buy her some time in complete solitude for just a few more minutes. At least, so she hopes. Immediately her thighs are occupied by paws as white as snow, the echoes of happy whining drawing her body to the floor as she embraces the dog that had drawn out the last bit of sanity in her during a time of weakness. Hey buddy. The greeting is unspoken, instead fingers run through fur as her body is pressed against the back of the door as her face is licked.

Carmen was home.

Memories of ferocious shouting, and tireless hours of fighting come back to her in volts of brief pictures and sensations – so she buries her face into Alex’s neck to silence them. But she knows that nothing could silence them, make them quiet? Certainly. But silenced completely, without any remnants of the hell she willingly put herself through to help her father would be but a fools’ wish.

With every step she takes, chaos reigns behind the woman with the Lion’s mane. Hands so violent and eyes like fire, Carmen devours.

It’s a life that she’s hopefully put behind her. Hopefully. For she knows that peace never finds women like her. No matter how much she’d reach, peace remained like the stars in the galaxy. An illusion – a memory of something she could have had a long time ago, yet died right in front of her eyes.

The union with Alex is cut short when Carmen’s ears twitch and her breasts ache. Her child’s name is but simple reminiscent sigh as she stands, feet seeking out the path to their daughter.

Their bedroom had always been her sanctuary. From the moment she moved in and settled into a space that had claimed her, and she it, a long time ago. And it doesn’t surprise her as she stands in the doorway, looking over her husband’s sleeping face and her heart aches. For a man that sacrificed so much, that had been through so much – she made it no easier for him. From drunken fights to her leaving without speaking one word. The moment she fell in love with Nine she promised she would do her best to make sure that even in this fucked up world, she would see a smile on his face even in the most trying of days. A promise she has yet to keep.

A promise she will keep.

Carmen’s never been stable, with hurricane thoughts and her fists acting as the aiding wind she had always did as she pleased. But with the birth of their daughter and the emotional loss of her father, she has realized that her life no longer belonged to her. Selfish antics always left pain in their wake, and she’s tired of hurting others and hurting herself.

The smallest noise from a crib nearby wrenches her attention away from the peaceful sight (ironic how a woman that finds peace in everything never finds peace for herself) and with light steps she looks over to see her daughter staring back at her.

“You look just like your fucking father.” The mumble is immediate as she stares into those familiar storm gray eyes, so haunting and enchanting.

With careful hands, Yumi is swept up into her arms, the baby not making a single sound, aside from the occasional cooing as she familiarizes herself with her mother again. To make this moment just enough for her, she takes the child into the living room sitting in her favorite spot as she looks over the features of the child she left behind to chase after her fathers’ dream of revenge. Her body protests with her movement, yet she grits her teeth and bares through it. Like she always does.

Tiny hands press against her skin, noises resembling that of a confused child only being heard as her finger traces the outlines of their child’s face. She’s beautiful. A gift bestowed onto her family after a tireless nine months and even the few minutes when Carmen thought that she had given birth to a child that was taken from her in the womb. She’s in awe of their daughter and with slow movements, she brings Yumi up to her face to press her forehead against hers.

“Do you remember me?” The question is faint and the silence that stretches is suffocating and for a moment tears prick the corners of her eyes as her tears beg to be released, burning her skin as they roll down her cheeks. She shouldn’t have left.

But the moment she is greeted with a tiny smack, followed by a curious mouth on her nose by a baby that wants to know the world she breathes out a sigh of relief. She remembered her mother, and that’s all that mattered. Carmen promises herself that she would never force her family to question whether she was a ghost to their memory again.

It doesn’t take long for Yumi to begin fussing and Carmen is immediately smacked with the realities of motherhood as she situates herself to breastfeed. But it is the burden that she hoped for, the burden she gave up her exciting sex life for the boredom of vanilla for. It’s a painful process as she’s been away from her baby for a few months and has to get her body accustomed to mommy life. “Shit you even breastfeed like your dad.” The joke draws out a genuine laugh that brings her heart joy. It’s been so long since she laughed like this, idle fingers stroking the hairs on Yumi’s head.

The familiar clearing of a throat draws her attention to Nine, a man that didn’t take shit from her when they first met and still continued to chastise her – even in her dreams. She knows they’re going to have to talk about her absence, but for now she gives him a look to let him know that she’s recommitting to her life as not only a mother, wife, and friend, but as Carmen. A grin pulls at her lips and she leans back a bit as Yumi feeds.  “Honey, I’m home.”

@theseelenine

[theseelenine]

cespires:

it doesn’t feel right. nothing had ever felt right when the universe tore at her skin and made a home in her. it told her this will be good for her, sweet little lies that someone so broken could only believe that poison could ever be holy water. it cuts deeply into her as though someone was twisting a ridged knife into her. when she goes to see who it is, she thinks she’s seen God for the first time in her life. she shifts in her seat, suddenly too aware of herself and his eyes that bore into her. “I don’t really believe in a lot.” she wants so badly to be good for the world, but she hardly ever considered being good for herself. she feels as though she owes the universe for everything its brought into her life, for all the nights the moon sat in the sky and listened to her cries, but she had never thought to think that the universe owed her. “anyway, it’s not like I try to figure out every customer that walks into my store. Pleasantries are usually as far as I’d go, but that’s not enough to get to know someone, is it?” She pauses, letting go of the mug in her hand and let her palm rest against the cool table. “Well I guess that’d suck then. All I’d see would be someone who doesn’t deserve to be here. someone terrible. someone who wronged the world, yet never thought to believe that perhaps the world wronged her.” She chews on her lip, thinking perhaps she’s said too much. he clings onto her words like they were his anchor. he pulls them close to him, resting his hands on them to save himself from drowning. and it’s exactly what she does with his words. she settles them into her hand, pursing her lips as though she found water that could cure that annoying loneliness that ached in her lungs and takes a sip. “I could tell you ten ways on how to judge me, but you’ll still think of me however you want to. and anyway, if that were true then every person who looked evil would be God. And we all know that no one could ever be Him.” she shrugs her shoulders, slumping down a bit to rest her chin in her palm. she continues to gaze at him, watching as he gives himself a satisfied grin. “You have your answers, huh?” he hears and he hears, lingering longer on the words that slip off her tongue and picks at the ones he wants to keep to himself and ones that he wants to say aloud. It’s then that he pauses for a moment, boring his eyes into her skin as though she’d said something of value to him. “Are you so sure about that conclusion? I mean, eternal life? That’s stuff you read in comics. I thought you were a man of science, but seeing you frazzled over this makes me think otherwise.” She straigtens up, rolling her shouldes before turning to look at him. his voice is darker, though it never really was light to begin with. but this time, his voice sounds rather forlorn and off tune. it isn’t what she expected of him, but it wouldn’t be the first time he’s surprised her. “How can I prove to you what? Eternal life? I can’t prove to anyone that.” but he pushes on, leaning closer to her in some sort of strange excitement that overpowers his logical and poised self. she doesn’t make any move to show him that he’s right, but the more he speaks, the more she begins to understand. he just wants someone to remember, she defeatedly admits. he breathes in the warm air of the bookstore, exhaling slowly before staring at her with some sort of strength he pulled out from thin air. “Don't—” but she’s too late to stop him from confiding in her. she knows she’d been chiding him on to open up, but she thinks it’s too soon. too soon for him to have faith in her and too soon for her to want to have someone else in her life again. she closes her eyes, turns her whole body away from him as she breathes in his words as though they were now her anchor to this fragile life. “So am I. I’m an orphan too.“ 

She turns toward him, staring into his eyes to find the part of him that’s still a child trying to find someone to hold on to. “I can’t even remember my mother’s smile. I used to remember it so well though.” it’s fear that grips at her throat to stop talking, but it’s the look in his eyes that gives her the courage to be his anchor for just a moment. “No, I really can’t figure out the rest. You’d have to tell me more.”

Time is a bittersweet concept that leaves behind a lingering metallic aftertaste that one grimaces at and hope to push at the back of their subconscious. Such an intangible yet tangible trace of life that weaves through the concourse of fate or whatever punishing force is working out there to make sure that he witnesses a stretch of time similar to the girl in front of him: an endless reality of hell. Flames of anguish have already flicked at the tip of his toes before frenziedly zipping through the rest of his body to scorch his bleeding organs inside and out to charred ashy remains of something that could have been so brilliant. The graphic imagery with the hues of siren red and burnt orange instantly flicks a switch at his own subconscious

 — and just like that he is no longer with Jieun the apparently not-so-normal bookstore clerk. He’s back on Seoul Ring Expressway with his right shoulder screaming in agony and heart ready to combust out of his chest and he’s watching and watching and watching her and pleading for her not to do it but she does it she does it and she’s erupting into a furious ball of fire with her bloodcurdling screams ripping through his ears —

When he is jerked back to the present, the dull reflections of her seemingly soulless eyes sends a cold jolt of shock thrumming through his veins as he feels like he is staring at another version of himself that has decided to kindly pop by for a surprise visit. Hello Jaebum-ah, no long no see. Still feeling like shit? You have nothing on this alternate life you lead in another universe. Chin up! You are capable of having it worse. When she speaks again, it strikingly contrasts against the impish demeanour stuck in his head. With a fatigued sigh, the oxygen rushing to his brain helps him to grasp the context of her words within a nanosecond despite being triggered. “There must be something you believe in, even if it’s something as trivial as waiting for the next episode of a romance drama because you like to believe in love. How else do you live? By nature, we need a sense of purposefulness or we drown in depression.” 

It is like he is racking his brains on how to solve an infinite puzzle that teases him with an eternity of unsolved answers. Yet the pieces of the solution are right underneath his fingertips, singing out to him to challenge his intellect or he is a worthless piece of trash. The solace of a constructive methodology-based approach to the woman sitting in front of him renews his confidence in his ability to figuring her out. “You believe in the company of people. That companions will offer you something that you clearly lack. Hmm, I wonder what that could be?” another sardonic attempt (he is being Satan himself right now he laughs bitterly in his mind) to elicit something - anything - out of her. “What makes you believe that? My experience with people has taught me otherwise. They never fail to surprise you with what is truly lurking behind their masks they put on for the public, especially in our image-driven society.” 

She has caught his tongue briefly, embarrassment floods into a warm pool in the pit of his stomach whilst she questions his rationale. Leaning back against his chair, another dry smile tugging at his lips, he traces the rim of his mug with a fingertip before shaking his head. “Jieun-ssi, don’t you know what concept intrigues scientists the most? The entity that NASA pools millions of dollars into attempting to crack the code of? It’s immortality. We are already one step ahead with cryopreserving that only costs $200,000. I can believe in it because it is hypothetically possible and I am also keen on learning more about the chances of immortality through other means. Whether it’s through STEM cells or something else... although it sounds like a living hell. Who would want to live through thousands of years that will mainly entail suffering? The thought alone can drive anyone suicidal.” particularly him as if it isn’t already blatant enough to her that he is weaving his own thoughts into the double context of his spoken words. 

Both his paranoia and anxiety hiss at him to watch the unfamiliar territory he is cautiously treading into. What if she is lying about being an orphan too just for the sake of getting you to open up to her? But his gut feeling along with witnessing the tangled, raw and vulnerable emotions bubbling in her throat for that one second draws him in like the end of a plotting a graph chart that will provide him with the details that he wants to see. They have too much in common. Hesitantly, he mumbles. “I never knew what mine looked like. Abandoned at birth.” arching a brow at her, he lets the silence to sink in again to prove that he is just as surprised as she is in sharing such intimate details about her life but he appreciates the truthfulness, as much as it hurts. “Do you wish you never knew what her smile looked like in the first place? I am lucky in that sense. I don’t have any memories. Nothing to linger on.” 

Because that’s the end of his story. 

[theseelenine]

** I am incredibly frustrated with my lack of activity because I have been overwhelmed by my internship & balancing out university at the same time so I’ve never gotten the time to sit down for myself. but I will be getting to my replies and inbox as soon as possible. until then, feel free to add me on discord Nine.#1495 or add me on twitter (same as URL) for faster replies. for feel free to just message me in IMs. 

[theseelenine]

MAKE A CHIBI AVATAR OF YOUR MUSE

+ The camera in one of his hands to symbolise is that he pretty much lives for terrorising people through YouTube whereas the chemical in the Erlenmeyer flask shows his Savant Syndrome that enabled him to do batshit crazy stunts like destructing buildings through easily obtained materials & that he is also just a nerd who dabbles in the art of Science.

+ He is nearly always in black because he hates bright colours which I could do an in-depth analysis of how this is interrelated to his depression but I am trying to keep this cute. 

+ Note the frowny and uptight expression. And the awful hair.

Tagged by: @spected (thank you so much for letting me indulge in this) Tagging: @kabonvi @cespires @erxsus @selentieun @crookedflesh @morphiums @pijichu @hhanseung @busanbunnie

[theseelenine]

[Journal log #1] 2:00:05 hours on 24th March 2018

After long hours of contemplation, I have concluded that I have to resort to journal logging my reflections and my so-called ‘feelings’ in the moment or whatever events that is the cause of my stress. Since my mere existence is the root of my stress, I should begin to break down these causes into appropriate categories and sub-categories to accurately map out the buildup of my issues and potentially discover any undiscovered links. 

Firstly, it irritates me that psychology is such a pseudoscience which revolves around completely subjective opinions with no hard factual science-backed proof. These self-labelled doctors provide several diagnoses utterly different from the rest and you are left behind with fifteen various diagnoses that have no proven evidence for the explanation, leaving room for grossly misjudged and subjective opinions of diagnoses.

If I have to sit down and think about what ‘feeling’ suffocates me is the most is my guilt. I can’t stop thinking about it. I’m stuck in a cycle of being trapped in my guilt for everything that has happened in my past. I feel sick to death for Twelve, Five, the orphans, the old people who I left behind when they sheltered me after my escape and for myself. Then I feel even more guilty for feeling guilty because I know that it entraps me in my past and I feel sick to death for Carmen because I know how she feels about me being unable to move on to this extent. 

In terms of efficiency, I know it hinders my progression with my present tasks and future drastically. I still strive to reach my full potential so the plan can work but my shortcomings get in my way and turn them into a failure. 

I still try to figure out why I’m still alive. I have nothing to depend on except Carmen but I can’t use something as volatile as people as a reason to live. The pain outweighs everything. I struggle to see a life beyond it. It’s too much for me. I have to come to several solutions so my body doesn’t give up on me but then the guilt overburdens me again because I wish I could only give her happiness but I have to be realistic. 

That being said, this act has relieved me somewhat. To be continued for further examination.

[theseelenine]

— -  and I stood there alone,            feeling like I was nothing. 

i. highway of endless dreams - m83 // ii. anachronism - crywolf // iii. hide my face - acid ghost // iv.  you were afraid - night beds // v. city - hollywood undead // vi. my december - linkin park // vii. i found - amber run // viii. rebirth - vancouver sleep clinic // x. count to nine - the japanese house  // (bonus) von - yoko kanno 

[theseelenine]

A VERY DESCRIPTIVE & DETAILED PROFILE OF YOUR MUSE. repost with the information of your muse, including headcanons, etc. when you’re done, tag 15 other people to do the same!

tagged by: @xlikemilk (you have no idea how much I appreciate this.) tagging: @kabonvi @cespires @erxsus @selentieun @603k @stellarade @misterharington

[ BASICS ]

NAME: Goes by Jaebum. Birth name unknown. Identifies himself as Nine.

AGE: 23 SPECIES: Human. GENDER: Male. ORIENTATION: Dead inside. PROFESSION: Full-time hacker & terrorist with occasional mercenary jobs.

[ PHYSICAL ASPECTS ] BODY TYPE: Slim athletic.  HAIR: Natural black. EYES: Dark grey. SKIN: Pale, extremely deprived of sunlight. HEIGHT: 183cm

[ FAMILY ] SIBLINGS: Unknown, presumably no other. Considers Twelve as his brother & only family. PARENTS: Unknown, he only has faint memories from the orphanage he’s always been at. CHILDREN: Roman as his stepchild & one daughter named Yumi. ANY PETS?: Three cats (Isaac, Riley and Ivy) and two dogs (Alex and Hanuel). 

[ LIKES ] COLORS: Black, black, black. All black everything. SMELLS: The addictive odour of white flawless fluid of Tippex Corrector Pens, the musty odour of untouched dusty books whose stories have been left untouched for a while, freshly dripped caffeinated rich Italian espressos, warm linen retrieved freshly out of the dryer, the comforting musk of his wife that sings of wild elderberries, metal & amber, petrichor. FOOD / DRINKS: Samanco is a childish comfort food otherwise he doesn’t have too much interest in food & sticks to Korean traditional basics / Black filter coffee is his life. ALCOHOLIC BEVERAGES?: yes [] || rarely [x] || no []  FAVORITES: Curling up with a philosphical book that causes him to have an existential crisis paired with a steaming mug of coffee, staring up at the sky & discovering about astronomy, basically doing anything with Carmen, accomplishing his tasks with a happy tick off his to-do list, always learning & educating himself through theoretical books online + offline, engaging in intellectually stimulating conversations & debates with others, when everything goes accordingly to his day plan down to the correct second, spending one-on-one time with Roman to teach him about academia & life.

[ OTHER DETAILS ] SMOKES?: yes [] || no [x] || occasionally [] DRUGS?: yes [] || no [x] || occasionally [] DRIVER LICENSE?: yes (fake though) [x] || no [] EVER BEEN ARRESTED?: yes [] || no [] || almost/detained [x] (manhunted by the FBI)

[an-exotic-writer]

five word prompts

[inspired by this]

“actually… i just miss you.”

“alright, i’ll leave you alone.”

“and slowly… i was forgotten.”

“and then everything just disappears.”

“and where do i go?”

“anyone could tell from here.”

“are you finishing that or…?”

“are you stupid or stupid?”

“anything, just call me, okay?”

“bitch better have my money.”

“bro… that’s so… not cool…”

“but did you do it?”

“call me now. it’s urgent.”

“can’t you listen to me?”

“cross that. don’t answer that.”

“don’t even think about it.”

“don’t you dare walk away.”

“do it. i dare you.”

“did you think i forgot?”

“eventually… you just move on.”

“even if you still do.”

“everything will fall into place.”

“fight me, you attractive stranger.”

“for once, i need you.”

“for once… i was right.”

“for once… i was wrong.”

“forget i even asked you.”

“forget it. you fucking suck.”

“fuck’s sake, what’s your problem?”

“fuck off. i mean it.”

“give and take. that’s life.”

“great. perfect. nice. fuck this.”

“have you lost your mind?”

“hello? it’s me. i was-”

“hey… that wasn’t so nice.”

“here’s a glass of whatever.”

“how about a hug, hm?”

“how about you make me?”

“i haven’t forgot you yet.”

“i can’t be around you.”

“i don’t need you, really.”

“i don’t need this now.”

“is this your first time?”

“it’s just a cut, really.”

“it wasn’t me, i swear!”

“i said i love you.”

“just don’t fuck it up.”

“just… come back alive, okay?”

“just make sure you’ve eaten.”

“kick his ass for me.”

“killed him? wait, what, literally?”

“life really sucks. feel better.”

“letting go hurts… a lot.”

“let me live, will you?”

“no, i don’t need you.”

“nothing can hurt me now.”

“nothing matters anymore to me.”

“okay it was me… so?”

“people lie all the time.”

“pipe the fuck down, asshole.”

“please, you can’t die now.”

“please don’t leave me alone.”

“quiet. they can hear us.”

“quick! give me your phone!”

“quicker, you freaking piece of-”

“quit it or i’ll bite.”

“quit staring! they’ll notice us!”

“really? do i look stupid?”

“real smooth, tripping over air.”

“rise and shine, sweet thing.”

“rise and fucking shine, motherfucker.”

“seriously? give me a break.”

“so… what are we now?”

“so… did you miss me?”

“so… can we go eat?”

“so… when’s the next flight?”

“so… how did everything go?”

“sometimes, i wish you died.”

“so what? you did it.”

“time passes slower without you.”

“then what do you suggest?”

“the fuck? who are you?”

“then you tell me why.”

“this is not working out.”

“this isn’t what i wanted.”

“this is all a fucking disaster.”

“when did it all happen?”

“who knew you’d be here?”

“why do i even bother?”

“why do i love you?”

“why didn’t you tell me?”

“you’re just… so, so stupid.”

“you can’t be here now.”

“you look like an accident.”

“you really need to go.”

“you know who to call.”

“zero fucks given. next please.”

[theseelenine]

** I am incredibly frustrated with my lack of activity because I have been overwhelmed by my internship & balancing out university at the same time so I’ve never gotten the time to sit down for myself. but I will be getting to my replies and inbox as soon as possible. until then, feel free to add me on discord Nine.#1495 or add me on twitter (same as URL) for faster replies. for feel free to just message me in IMs. 

[theseelenine]

— - nonsensical misadventures

[theseelenine]

erxsus:

This carpet really sucks. The carpet really sucks and her thoughts are a jumbled mess. A tiny part of her brain is aware of this and is practically screaming at her to get herself together. God, she really is a mess, isn’t she? She a crying, gross mess and the small part of her that is sober is wishing that she had the mobility that would allow her to jump out of the window that she came through. What a way to put an end to her misery; jumping out of the goddamn window and praying that she wouldn’t completely fuck herself up. 

The tone that the other uses to address her has her jolting back to reality and she can’t help but flinch. It’s reflex, honestly, and she had thought she’d managed to get rid of it, but the alcohol is really messing with her. “I mean what I say.” The words have no bite to them, to her dismay, and she continues to wipe at her eyes. And oh fuck, she swears she feels a lens shift in a not-so-pleasant way. Casting her gaze down towards her feet, she’s content to just stare at them until she feels something brush against her. Even in her state of inebriation she manages to compute the strange sensation and she jerks away in thinly veiled disgust. “A broom? Are you petting me? With a broom?” Turing her full attention to him, she swats at the offensive item. “I may be… drunk, but I am not drunk enough for this.” Making a shooing motion she quickly looks away again. “I remember things just fine… I was crying because you scared me.” 

Sensing his presence in front of her, she tenses at the proximity before scowling. “It’s not drunk logic, it’s true.” Sighing, she takes a deep breath before slowing exhaling through her nose. “I can take them out by myself, thank you. I’m not a total incompetent.” Gingerly taking the case from his hand, she turns to the side and unscrews the dual compartments. Quickly taking out her lenses, she slips them into the case and closes them. She doesn’t turn back to him, instead choosing to remain turned away from him. 

The scowl comes back as he begins to talk again and god why does he sound so angry? It was just a simple question wasn’t it? She’s about to snap back, but stops when he actually offers a sufficient and somewhat non-condescending answer. “Jaebum, huh?” Furrowing her brows, she leans her head against the wall. “Mid-terms? Ah, I suppose you’re a bit of an… over-achiever… STEM probably… makes sense…” The last part is more of a whisper to herself as her brain attempts to work through and categorize this new information. 

A pillow comes into view and, still adamant on not making eye contact, she mutters a soft thanks before flopping onto her side. Fluffing the pillow a bit, she curls around it and gives (what sounds like) a scoff. “You’re rude.” It’s an observation, not a question. “I’m Star.” She doesn’t offer anything else; her childish way of getting back at him. 

“Wow. You must really be popular with the ladies, am I right?” Rolling her eyes, she rolls onto her back, bringing the pillow to rest on her stomach. “Thanks for the lecture. Now your angry face will pop up into my mind whenever I reach for alcohol.” Closing her eyes and grimacing at the mention of stumbling into other people’s rooms, she slowly rolls back onto her side. “I guess I should… thank you for being… not too much of an asshole then. So, thanks.” Her cheeks flush red in embarrassment and she steels herself before opening her eyes again. She’s self-conscious without her contacts on and her gaze quickly flickers to the side. “I know… I’d call my roommate, but she’s… somewhere with someone. Who’s your roommate, by the way?”

It isn’t like he is so blissfully wrapped up in his own naïve ignorance that he isn’t expected a mess-free weekend at college. The probability of either his vivacious roommate coming back wasted or another obnoxious overly loud frat boy crashing his room and interrupting his smooth working flow with slurred cusses and thrown objects are extremely high by eighty five percent. But the chances of a sobbing girl clumsily bursting into his room via the window is absolutely ludicrous. Why do people enjoy getting drunk stupid and making a huge fool out of themselves in front of complete strangers with no remaining sense to cling to? He doesn’t get it nor does he want to — he wants those sort of people to leave him the hell alone.

‘Yes, it is a broom... a long-handled brush of bristles used for sweeping,’ he informs her indifferently as he surveys her dishevelled appearance — grimacing at how alcohol reduced her to this tear-streaked, sweaty, curled up and incoherent mess on his carpet. ‘It’s decently clean. Don't fuss. Just… shh…’ he hurriedly gives her one last encouraging pat on her shoulder to shut up. The words I am not scary die at the tip of his tongue because throughout his life he has been dubbed as the ‘scary four-eyed Asian nerd’ and girls have always told him that his tongue is as harsh as knives grating against steel bars. ‘You’re being silly because you're wasted. I am not going to hurt you. In fact, you should still keep thanking me for being a saint since you leapt through my window as if you found more booze for you to get stupidly wasted with and now I have to deal with you. I apologise - well not really - for coming across as harsh but that's how I am. You have to deal with all sorts of people in life. You're welcome.’ As a threat, he points the broomstick in her direction with a dark expression but then he tenses up — sucking in his breath as he tensely waits for her to accidentally gouge her eyeball out. Yet he ends up being pleasantly surprised by her success that he even awards her with slow applause slightly tinged with sarcasm. Now finding the situation increasingly amusing, he stares at her blankly at her childish gesture. ‘You're welcome, once again.’ 

Glimpsing her features that first wash over with reflected antagonism makes him want to provoke her again with his crude sense of straightforwardness so he decides to challenge her as he rests his cheek against the broom. ‘Yes, that's my name. Jaebum. Not that you'll remember it tomorrow. Some say overachieving but I call it pure efficiency.’ he feigns a deep sense of shock by raising his brows at her with widened eyes. ‘A part of your brain is still working? Surprising. I just told you with my own mouth that I'm a computer science major. That comes under the ‘S’ part of STEM - Science. In case the name computer science didn’t make it obvious enough for you.’

Panic seizes him by the throat again to witness her so carefreely flopping on his carpet as if it's her bed of clouds. He is thoroughly glad that he gave his roommate’s pillow instead of his own since he's still anticipating the bouts of vile puke. ‘Star… alias or birth name? Let me guess your major… you're either in languages or soft arts.’ he can't help but jibe at her, rolling his eyes at how she is trying to come off as dignified. ‘You know you can't sleep here, right… get the hell up. Wash your face. Don’t fall asleep.’

The returned jibe hardens his steely gaze towards her, ‘clearly I am since I'm getting drunk ones bursting through my window to see me. I'm sure you're such a charmer of your own, crybaby drunk.’ his voice is oozing with sarcasm now and he is mildly surprised that she hasn't attempted to throw a punch in his face. ‘Please don't remember my face or think about me. Not that you'll remember anything the next day so the thanks are fully accepted.’ he follows her gaze, not understanding what her concern is now. ‘Don't you have friends. One of them will… not be with someone.’ with a frustrated sigh, he runs his fingers through his bangs as he rolls his eyes. ‘You probably know him since his mouth is big enough to be everywhere on campus — Jihoon Park. Calls himself Twelve because he thinks he's hysterical by pretending to be a double agent and the campus’ gossip column.’ speaking of the devil, he thinks he hears his dreaded roommate’s return and he frets for real this time.

‘Quick. Get in the closet. Now.’ he hisses through his teeth as he grabs hold of her arm so he can drag her like a limp doll to the closet. ‘I’ll keep the door open by a big fraction so you have more than enough space to breathe. Don’t make a noise. I’ll handle him. He can’t see you like this here. Hurry it up, crybaby drunk.” 

[theseelenine]

selentieun:

she couldn’t express the guilt that was beginning to build within her heart, feeling of it thomping within the layers of her skin. it’s almost as if she couldn’t breathe, choked up with trying to figure an explanation to her sudden disappearance though she’s unsure of such an impulsive move. lips were beginning to get sucked in, palm extended to the top of her head to scratch on top of natural dyed roots. “beginning to think i should show you the proof, i have it at home.” naeun laughs at the idea alone, assuming something way beyond capabilities. thinking way way into thinks, he was always like that from what she can recall easily.

“we’re friends, remember?” the relationship the two share was unusual. the way they first encountered one another and how they continued to meet ends, there’s never a – regular meeting between the pair. all the brunette can do is smile softly, reassuring him that there was nothing but positive memories despite such difficult times. she recalls frustration at times, even uncertainty but naeun was never one to push others aside and disregard them. though, the words rung a bell within her head; what if she possibly made him feel that way?

when she proceeds to continue conversation, merely inching forward a bit more and standing on the tip of her toes. for a second, she thought she was out of breath though the conditions that the taller male was in? no close comparison. “hey…” gently speaking, bottom lip jutted out in concern. she cautiously reaches to touch, a soft poke at his arm instead of slim fingers encircling around his arm. “are you okay? didn’t mean to startle you there.”

naeun almost feels as if she was in comparison to her own sister at times, disappearing and not thinking of her choices that would affect those around her. being in the same location after so long, felt like suffocation and traveling to study internationally had pro’s to con’s. to step out the airport and seeing what she was almost accustom to felt surreal, then seeing someone who she shared a close bond with was like a dream. “i wanted to see how you were, if we take a walk together i can share all the stories about what i’ve been doing.” not that it was out of the ordinary, naeun thinks.

though, jae was someone who was struck with paranoia. she should’ve known better, she was so selfish her own sister probably hates her for not saying goodbye properly too.

Time simply does not favour him, time ardently strives to work against him at all costs. Fragments of the past two years begin to filter through his conscience which forcibly engulfs his lungs with memories he rather leave buried in the murky depths of his mind. But the flashbacks tightly grasp hold of his hair to yank at it, shoving his face into ice cold water to drown him again and again and again. The almost ethereal reapparance of Naeun confuses his senses that are already gradually detaching from his body but the timing is just so wrong. Then her laugh jerks him back to the harsh reality underneath the blanket of neon city lights. It invokes an emotion within him that further perplexes him until he figures out what it is: he is angry. 

“Friends... I don’t have any friends,” he hums out as stares her down without any mercy in his unforgiving eyes. “I don’t know what you find so funny either so let me lay it out for you. I will admit that you gave me a solid foundation for trusting you and I tried repaying you back for your kindness. But I understood that did resonate in your skull that I am not the type to easily do that for someone else. You took my trust for granted. Naturally, my trust weakened when you kept coming and going while acting like everything is fine. That really irritates me. If something is wrong, then tell me so I know what to expect. Give me the proof then so I know you aren’t lying about that part at least.” 

In the end, Naeun is Naeun but her soft poke elicits a wince from him and he instinctively draws his arms back. “I’m tired.” he grudgingly admits just like all the other times because her questions have become so routine for him and potentially from her nursing (or so as she claims to be doing his paranoia warns him). “I’m really tired,” he repeats with his tone becoming fainter. He can’t believe this is happening now out of all times. “If you want to divert the attention away from your behaviour then go ahead. Tell me all the stories. I’ll listen to what you have to say to me but don’t call us friends.” 

Perhaps the timing is appropriate for this once. This is the epiphany that he and Naeun are and always will be worlds apart. Like an ill-fitted pair of gloves, they simply cannot adapt to the other’s shape. He is too wrapped up in his world of cynicism and Naeun’s mentality is one he still cannot fully fathom. What motivates her to keep coming back to him? It makes no sense to him when he cannot understand her the slightest. She is far too different from him in her own little world of naivety. 

“Naeun, if you keep coming to see me because you get a pleasure out of thinking you can fix me then stop coming back.” another headache threatens to pulsate his veins from aggravating emotions so he lets out a forlorn sigh. “I’m not one of your patients.” 

[theseelenine]

** I am incredibly frustrated with my lack of activity because I have been overwhelmed by my internship & balancing out university at the same time so I’ve never gotten the time to sit down for myself. but I will be getting to my replies and inbox as soon as possible. until then, feel free to add me on discord Nine.#1495 or add me on twitter (same as URL) for faster replies. for feel free to just message me in IMs. 

[theseelenine]

“hey you.” she speaks softly, naeun thinks it’s been far too long since they’ve encountered each other. she left without a word except to her family and stubborn sister. and maybe it’s difficult for her to speak to anyone in this matter because, questions are going to be asked and there’s answers. “did you forget about me?” infamous inquiry, the previous florist now nursing student asked lightheartedly. pink tinted lips stretched into a small smile.

// ► all eyes on @selentieun

The sole reason or logical solution he likes to comfort himself with the fact that semi-long walks within the dim-lit shadows will bring him back down to earth when he gets sucked into the venomous cycle of rehashing his trauma. Which he then succumbs himself to his relentlessly intense workaholic lifestyle to reassure himself that his ghost existence isn’t useless nor entirely doomed till the end. Although walks remain cathartic to him to a certain extent, it doesn’t help this one time when everything comes crashing down on him in a stormy wave of vicious anxiety that gets triggered when he gets reminded of him. 

Collapsing his shoulder against the nearest wall his wobbly knees can stagger him towards, he folds his arms as he attempts to make sense of the oxygen he’s breathing out - how he is still real. Alive. In the present moment. The blood is still thrumming through his veins. But then the lulling yet ominous ringing tone of a familiar voice harshly whips through his derailing existential crisis - this time he barely manages to exert effort into meeting her eyes. Too much energy. Or he’s trying to forget how familiar faces make him feel.

“Hey you,” he echoes in response like he always does because there is nothing more solid that routine. “It’s Sailor Nae unless my vision has gone backwards even more.” with a grimace, he almost wishes he can forget how vividly he remembers the intricate details of fifth senses of people - especially those who he tried to look after. “I don’t believe your nursing story anymore. You’re a double agent by the way you keep disappearing. I don’t understand why you keep coming back to see me.”

[theseelenine]

** I am incredibly frustrated with my lack of activity because I have been overwhelmed by my internship & balancing out university at the same time so I’ve never gotten the time to sit down for myself. but I will be getting to my replies and inbox as soon as possible. until then, feel free to add me on discord Nine.#1495 or add me on twitter (same as URL) for faster replies. for feel free to just message me in IMs.