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first love / late spring
@daldaejun.
a little further away from the festivities, in a little alcove of shadow and dancing light, daejun found the courage to hold her hand. it was not the first time and he certainly hoped – despite his shaking, slightly-sweaty palms – that it would not be the last. she made him nervous, the same way the idea that he might one day learn the secrets of the universe made him nervous, the same way her smiling at him for doing something to be proud of made him nervous – all in a good way. he wondered if his heartbeat could be felt through his palms, and if that was why it almost felt as warm as his face, even though she mentioned so clearly that they were not. “that’s because you have not been holding them all night, miran,” he tells her, too flustered to look at her tonight. she was more stunning than ever. every day she was more beautiful – a flower constantly in bloom. instead he focused on leading her into a corner, the music still ringing through the night and the lights still reaching through the spaces around them, and stopped under a tree where they may hide should any intruding sound be heard. “now, i think, they’ll be warm,” he continued, cupping her hand with both of his own, and kissing the tips of her fingers, “if i just do this for a few seconds more.”
events like tonight’s bring such joy to miran.
she always loved meeting new people and reconnecting with acquaintances. large gatherings such as this party often fulfilled her cravings for social interactions. but they were often stuffy as well, and not necessarily in the literal sense, especially since her father was still keen on pairing her up with someone, despite claiming otherwise.
so she slips away from the crowd, meeting his eye on her way out.
that leads us to where they are now, hidden in the dark of the night in the gardens, fingers intertwined. she’s certain they aren’t the only ones here. everyone is just equally as good at hiding as they are it seems. a laugh slips from her lips at his remark and she squeezes his hand lightly.
they come to a stop and when he kisses her fingertips, she smiles, poking his cheek with his hands still around her’s. “i think all you’re doing is making my hands colder.” but she makes no move to slip her hand out from his grasp. “did you fare well with the festivities?”
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hello, i'm coming in with the daughter of the minister of taxation and the alleged witch out to sacrifice men to the devil, PARK MIRAN. that is, to the handful of people who actually believe that rumour lmao. she’s actually pretty friendly and chill ( rlly all she cares about are her family, garden and daejun ) so don’t worry, she won’t bite contrary to what the rumours say! her links are all up aside from her plots page, which probably won’t happen any time soon, and you can find a tl;dr of her biography on her profile page!
( BIOGRAPHY || PROFILE || PLOTS )
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Audio
movement by hozier playing from a distant church in the woodlands/forest
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Quote
There is no god, // so I move my own heaven.
Andrés Cerpa, from “Relapse,” published in Foundry (via lifeinpoetry)
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