yfkrystal:
SUGAR, WEâRE GOING DOWN
jung jaewon smelt of mint and fruit, yet krystal finds it hard to shake off the stench of soju emitting off him. as always.
âwhat is it? you donât come by at this hour unless you want somethingâand if you really want something, i believe your best chance at getting it is a few doors down.âÂ
admittedly, the icy tone that curbs her words, sharp and cool like sheâs always been, is slightly tinged with a harshness that canât be ignored. and had krystal been more herself, been less aggravated, she might have been able to reel it in a notch.Â
but what was the point in hiding anything when it came to jaewon?
heâd know she was off just as well as how heâs always known that she was selfish. they were all fucking selfish.
thatâs life, isnât it?
there are no expectations. no midnight magic to save his soul; no matter how much heâs always thought of her as his saving grace.
jaewonâs never been religious, in any caseâh y p o c r I s y stared him in the face for far too many years as a child. . .
an adulterous husband on tuesday and faithful father on ash wednesday; a devout mother and an angry, curled fist in the same sunday.
and while he has no taste for these rituals, he indulges in this simple actâcoming to her door.
from time to time.
a little hungry for warmth and the sight of a familiar face among the oddities of sunhwa. ( and of course, heâs one of those strange things; lurking in the dark, intoxicated and jaded and fractured into a thousand tiny pieces. )
heâs a simple boy tonight, though.
a simple soul, possessed of simple desires. jaewon doesnât give a second thought to her tone; lingering instead on the words that flow so easily from parted, pink lips. the third year watches her, catching the glimmer of a distant light in her eye; the furrow of her brow that betrays her ( and the faintest of shadows lining the undersides of her eyes ).
soft fingertips lift, almost as if to smooth away the expression before he thinks better of it and slips past her. jaewon s l i t h e r s inside, âi want to sit down.â
. . . and nevermind that he could do that in his own roomâthat he could do far better to rest his weary mind and body. itâs a thin excuse; translucent under even the slightest examination.
not that he cares.
âhow long have you been studying?â because itâs never a matter of what jung soojung is doing, but rather how long sheâs been ignoring the world to do it. his body turns as he steps inside; a smooth but loose movement that sends him swaying on his left foot and tipping into the edge of her bed.
things are in his favor when he finds himself actually sitting, he supposes.
âor maybe I should just ask how much youâve got left?â
@yfkrystal

















