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EL AUGURIO NEGRO ˒˒ 황현진 [ ⚝.⋆☾⋆⁺ alas del demonio, capítulo uno ]

❝ ᴇɴ ᴇʟ ǫᴜᴇ 𓈓 arya está acostumbrada a las rarezas de la magia, pero cuando un cuervo negro de repente empieza a seguirla a todas partes, las cosas se vuelven aún más extrañas. ¿es solo un ave con una obsesión inexplicable... o hay algo más acechando en su mirada oscura?

ᴘ ‎⸝⸝⸝ 스트레이 키즈 príncipe demonio! hwang hyunjin x bruja! arya raven ɢ ‎⸝⸝⸝ fantasía, romance 𓂃⊹` ⋮ mención de hechicería, animales que hablan ── .✦ ( 𝓂. list ) ˖ ⟢ ‧₊˚ ⋅ back to 𝓈eries ℴverview 𓂃✷⋆⸜ [ 3.4K ] ⋆˚࿔╰› 𝓅laylist ⸝⸝

｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡ [ おしゃれ ] .ᐟ

❝ARYA REVISA CUÁNTAS RAÍCES DE MANDRÁGORA YA HA RECOGIDO, REFUNFUÑANDO EN VOZ BAJA. es una tarde gris y desapacible, cubierta por una niebla densa y salpicada de chubascos poco regulares, lo que hace imposible salir en busca de algunos ingredientes necesarios para la práctica de sus hechizos sin mojarse bajo la lluvia. aunque es un clima espectacular para las brujas y las actividades sobrenaturales en el bosque, lleno de magia y misterio, arya nunca ha sido una admiradora de la lluvia, y menos cuando las gotas heladas se deslizan por el cuello de su capa, enviándole escalofríos por la espalda.

ya ha renunciado a ponerse la capucha sobre la cabeza, sólo para que el viento se la quite con una ráfaga. ahora está apoyada en la parte superior de su espalda, húmeda, pegajosa y adherida al resto de su capa negra.

sin embargo, a pesar de su ánimo desagradable, arya sabe que la mandrágora es esencial si quiere que sus conjuros sean más potentes. al contar menos raíces en la cesta que considera aceptable, continúa su búsqueda con un suspiro resignado.

las hojas caídas brillan con humedad, crujiendo bajo sus botas de cuero cada vez que da un paso. el aroma terroso de la lluvia se mezcla con la fragancia amarga de la mandrágora y otras plantas poco gustosas, pero muy útiles a la hora de crear hechizos.

arya se acerca a la mandrágora más cercana y, tomándola por las hojas, la saca de la tierra húmeda. sacude la raíz entre los dedos, examinándola con ojo crítico. no es la mejor ni la más grande que ha encontrado hoy, pero servirá. justo cuando está a punto de guardarla en su cesta, un sonido leve resuena en el bosque.

un crujido.

no el de las gotas deslizándose por la copa de los árboles, ni el de una rama doblándose bajo su pie, sino algo más sutil. algo detrás de ella.

arya se detiene, la planta aún en mano. el bosque, oscurecido por la bruma y el cielo encapotado, parece contener la respiración. no hay zumbido de insectos, ni pio de pájaros. el bosque se ha quedado completamente quieto.

la sensación de estar siendo observada se desliza por su espalda como una corriente fría. arya no se atreve ni a respirar mientras se gira lentamente.

allí, en lo alto de la copa de uno de los árboles desnudos, la observa un cuervo de plumaje negro como la medianoche con ojos profundos e inquietantes. el ave bate las alas antes de recogérselas contra el cuerpo, sin apartar de ella su mirarla penetrante.

es grande. demasiado grande para ser un cuervo normal. un escalofrío recorre su espina dorsal cuando se encuentra con sus ojos vigilantes y sin fondo. sin embargo, arya no lo deja sacarla de sus casillas, y se obliga a relajar el cuerpo. músculo por músculo, obliga.

❝espero que no estés esperando que te alimente,❞ masculla, fingiendo indiferencia. vuelve a meter la raíz de mandrágora en la cesta. le tiemblan las manos y los dedos se le han entumecido, pero lo atribuye al intenso frío del otoño. devuelve la mirada del animal y, a modo de advertencia, arquea una sola ceja.

el cuervo no responde, por supuesto. solo inclina la cabeza, como si la estuviera estudiando, sus ojos intensos clavándose en su alma.

una extraña sensación se apodera de arya, trazando los susurros más sútiles de magia sobre su piel como una caricia. pero no es la sensación agradable y cálida que florece en su pecho cuando practica hechizos.

no.

esto la deja sin aliento, arrebatándole el aire de los pulmones y dejando una sensación fría y viscosa en su lugar.

arya se aferra a su capa, los dedos agarrando la suave seda sobre su corazón. y entonces, tan rápido como vino, se va, y el calor vuelve a su cuerpo, llenándole el pecho y expandiéndose por sus dedos hasta llegar a los pies.

pero la sensación deja tras de sí un hilo oscuro, feo y ominoso que todavía sujeta su corazón palpitante en una mordaza. como lo hace la magia oscura.

sin querer dejarte ir, esta magia prohibida hunde sus dientes profundamente en ti, tomando y tomando. primero tu calor, tu felicidad. y luego tu alma. la magia prohibida siempre exige su precio.

cuando levanta la vista, descubre que el cuervo sigue observándola atentamente. se obliga a soltar su capa arrugada del agarre de sus dedos helados, se forza sacudir la cabeza y seguir con lo suyo.

cuanto antes termine de recoger la mandrágora, antes podrá volver a su cabaña y pasar este tiempo desagradable debajo de sus mantas, con una taza de té caliente entre las manos.

pero mientras lo hace, no puede evitar la incómoda sensación de que, en algún momento en el que no está mirándolo, el cuervo se acerca cada vez un poco más, llevando consigo esa pizca de magia oscura.

｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡ [ おしゃれ ] .ᐟ

arya sigue quejándose del clima mientras arranca los raíces de mandrágora. todavía no ha anochecido, pero debido a las nubes oscuras que tiñen el mundo de un gris pasajera, la tarde parece haberse convertido en una noche prematura. el aire huele a tierra mojada y hierbas trituradas.

ocasionales ráfagas de viento hacen crujir las ramas torcidas sobre su cabeza, y el sonido la vuelve hipersensible a todo lo que la rodea. a lo lejos, vida se ha devuelto al bosque que susurra otra vez con sus sonidos propios, pero su atención se mantiene en él.

el cuervo no deja de seguirla. la observa con un ojo atento, calculador. al principio, arya lo ignora, pero cada vez que se mueve, el ave la imita, batiendo sus alas y aterrizando un poco más cerca.

su presencia inquietante le devuelve la sensación de calor abandonando sus dedos y hace que el corazón se le acelere. estar tan cerca de la magia oscura hace que el sudor frío le cubra la frente, y sus manos tiemblan.

durante su búsqueda, arya presta demasiada atención al cuervo, esperando — deseando — que deja de seguirla. el aroma de la magia oscura aún es denso en el aire, y arya reflexiona sobre lo potente que debe de ser el hechizo para que ella, una bruja con apenas unos mínimos fragmentos de magia, se vea tan envuelta en sus garras. si fuera una bruja más poderosa, le obstruiría las fosas nasales y la haría ahogarse con su propio aliento.

¿ha sido maldito el cuervo? ¿ha incursionado en magia prohibida la propia bestia, de algún modo? o, ¿podría haber sido utilizado para poderosos rituales que involucren magia oscura?

sus pensamientos la ponen aún más en alerta y el instinto le grita que este no es un cuervo cualquiera. actúa como una sombra, moviéndose justo cuando ella no lo mira.

arya se humedece los labios. está cierta de que este comportamiento no es normal para un cuervo, y su ansiedad crece aun más.

el frío ha empapado su vestido verde oscuro y su capa negra, pegándolos incómodamente a sus piernas. el dobladillo de ambos ya está sucio de barro. unos mechones de pelo blanco suelto se le adhieren a la frente y cuando los aparta con una mano aún manchada de tierra, deja una fina huella oscura en su piel clara.

luchando con su ropa húmeda y el pelo revuelto, casi no se da cuenta del cuervo moviéndose otra vez. alza el vuelo con un crujido de alas y, en un instante, aterriza aún más cerca.

arya se detiene bruscamente y se gira, intentando atraparlo en el acto. pero él se queda inmóvil como una estatura, sus garras hundidas en un colchón de hojas caídas. la observa con esos ojos oscuros y extrañamente inteligentes, su silueta recortada contra la bruma del bosque.

la sensación pesada vuelve a su pecho, hebras invisibles de magia oscura rodeándola. se le corta la respiración, pero se niega a sucumbir a la ansiedad que le acelera el pulso.

arya le habla al cuervo de nuevo: ❝ya te lo dije; si esperas que te ofrezca algo, más vale que busques en otro sitio.❞

el cuervo no reacciona al principio. luego, inclina la cabeza y deja escapar un graznido suave, casi burlón. arya entrecierra los ojos, pero la impresión es clara. la ha entendido.

se aleja, sacudiendo la cabeza, pero la sensación de ser observada se intensifica. abraza su capa con más fuerza cuando el viento regresa con otra ráfaga helada, despeinándole el cabello largo.

de repente, otro cuervo canta en la distancia, pero su grito suena distorsionado, antinatural. el cuervo que la sigue no le responde con un graznido suyo. arya se estremece, pero decide ignorarlo junto con el olor atascado de la magia que rodea al ave.

en cambio, se arrodilla con rapidez para arrancar otra raíz de mandrágora, y entonces lo siente — un movimiento tras ella de nuevo, pero esta vez demasiado rápido y fluido para un pájaro. se gira en el acto.

el cuervo ya no está donde debería estar.

antes lo había visto aterrizar sobre una rama alta, contemplándola desde las sombras. ahora se encuentra a unos pocos metros de distancia, sobre un tocón nudoso y seco, como si siempre hubiera estado allí.

la forma en la que la observa le eriza la piel.

arya deja escapar un suspiro tembloroso y susurra: ❝definitivamente no eres un cuervo normal.❞

el ave chasquea el pico con suavidad, pareciendo casi divertido. si fuera humano, arya sé que eso sería una risa entre dientes.

arrancando la última raíz de mandrágora, arya la mete en la cesta sin molestarse en limpiarla. sus pisadas resuenan en la tierra mojada, quebrando ramas a su paso, apurándose en dirección de su cabaña.

｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡ [ おしゃれ ] .ᐟ

cuando arya sale tambaleándose del bosque y sus zapatos mojados tocan el crujiente porche de madera de su pequeña cabaña, el cuervo ya la espera, posado sobre la barandilla, inmóvil, como una estatura oscura tallada en el metal.

un suspiro se le escapa, lento y resignado, y la sensación incómoda de magia oscura la envuelve de nuevo, colándose bajo su piel. el ave la mira con esos ojos de tinta, tan insondables que parecen pozos sin fondo. bajo esa mirada, algo se remueve dentro de ella — un sentimiento que le cale más hondo que la lluvia que empapa sus ropas. su pulso se acelera, y un escalofrío le recorre la columna.

querría convencerse de que es simple magia instintiva — una bruja, un animal, un vínculo naciente — y atrae lo salvaje y lo extraño, aunque todavía sigue siendo débil. pero la forma en que el cuervo la mira no tiene nada de instinto. es juicio. es conciencia. es una pregunta silenciosa que ella no sabe cómo responder.

aun así, no dice nada. finge indiferencia ante el ave, aunque la sensación de ser leída como un libro abierto no la abandona ni por un segundo, y los ominosos rastros de magia oscura siguen flotando invisiblemente en el aire, aferrados al cuervo.

arya abre la puerta y entra sin mirar atrás, con el corazón golpeándole en el pecho como si intentara escapar. el calor de la cabaña la recibe con brazos abiertos, pero no logre ahuyentar el escalofrío que todavía le recorre la espalda.

se despoja de la capa mojada, colgándolo en la percha en el pasillo con manos temblorosas y camina hacia la sala más recóndita — su santuario, su frustración constante. su sala de hechizos.

allí, la mesa la espera con su caos habitual — frascos vacíos, páginas arrugadas, hierbas marchitas y restos de pociones que nunca funcionan. toda la habitación parece la secuela de un desastre, pero para arya es un caos organizado. aunque parezca lo contrario, cada vial y cada raíz tienen su lugar respectivo.

deposita la cesta con cuidado, como si contuviera corazones aún latiendo, y empieza a limpiar las raíces de mandrágora — diez en total — con un esmero casi reverencial. cada una parece tener su propio pulso oculto, como si respiraran en la palma de su mano. las frota lentamente, retirando la tierra que las cubre como si desvistiera antiguos secretos, y las va colocando con delicadeza sobre una rejilla metálica al lado del lavabo, donde el vapor de la tarde lluviosa empaña el aire.

cuando termina y la cesta queda vacía, sale al pasillo con la intención de prepararse un té que calentará su cuerpo aún tembloroso desde adentro. pero justo al girarse hacia la cocina, un escalofrío le recorre la espalda.

la piel se le eriza como si un hilo invisible le hubiese rozado. y vuelve esa presión conocida en el pecho: sorda, densa, innegable.

el cuervo sigue allí.

al otro lado del cristal, sobre el alféizar, negro como un hueco de una palabra no dicha. negro como una sombra de la muerte.

no se mueve. no parpadea.

solo la mira.

y sus ojos... hay algo en esos ojos que no debería estar. algo que observa con una paciencia demasiado humana.

algo que sabe.

y lo que sabe, arya aún no está lista para entenderlo.

se obliga a apartar la vista.

camina hacia la cocina con pasos contenidos, buscando entre sus frascos de vidrio hierbas que le devolverán el alma al cuerpo: menta fuerte, raíz de valeriana, una pizca de ajenjo.

las deja caer en el agua hirviente, pero la sensación no se disipa. es como si el cuervo hubiera entrado con ella, y su presencia ahora respirara en las paredes. como si llenara cada rincón con su sombra.

nunca antes un animal salvaje había mostrado interés en ella. no así. no con esa... intensidad y paciencia que parecen un preludio.

y lo peor es que ni siquiera ha empezado.

la mañana siguiente, cuando baja a la cocina, lo encuentra dentro. posado sobre la encimera como una sombra encarnada. tan inmóvil que parece tallado en obsidiana. pero no.

está vivo. y la mira.

arya se queda quieta, su aliento suspendido como una hoja entre dos estaciones. los hilos de magia oscura han entrado con él, pero arya ya apenas se da cuenta de la sensación envolviéndo su piel.

sus ojos se deslizan del cuervo a la ventana abierta detrás de él. y comprende. ha encontrado la grieta.

claro.

él ladea la cabeza con la calma de alquien quien ya ha ganado. sus garras raspan la madera con lentitud, como si escribiera un nombre que solo él conoce.

❝no. absolutamente no.❞ la voz de arya rompe el silencio como cristal rajado. suena más frágil de lo que quisiera.

le hace un gesto con la mano, firme.

el cuervo no se mueve.

❝tú vives afuera.❞ insiste, cruzándose de brazos, fruciendo el ceño como una barrera. pero él sigue impasible. como si las palabras no le tocaran.

arya se acerca, agitando las manos, casi rozándolo. solo entonces, por fin, despliega las alas. el viento que levanta huele a la tierra antigua y a pesadillas no realizadas. vuele hacia la ventana.

arya lo sigue con pasos tensos y cierra tras él. echa el cerrojo una, dos, tres veces, hasta asegurarse de que ni el aire pase. pero el cuervo no se va. se posa de nuevo en el alféizar, a centímetros apenas del vidrio, y la observa. sin pestañear. como si esperara algo.

como si la frontera entre lo salvaje y lo doméstico se hubiese roto sin remedio. como si un umbral invisible se hubiera cruzado.

y el hechizo, si lo hay, ya estuviera hecho.

｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡ [ おしゃれ ] .ᐟ

la mañana llega más gris que las anteriores, envuelta en una neblina densa que se filtra apenas por las cortinas de lino. la luz del amanecer se arrastra por el suelo de madera como si temiera ser vista. como si también ella sientiera que algo se ha instalado donde no debe.

el cuarto permanece en penumbra, cálido todavía por el aliento de los sueños. las sábanas — negras, bordadas a mano, con olor a lavanda — se arrugan bajo el cuerpo de arya, que se remueve, aún atrapada entre el sueño y el despertar.

su mirada cae sobre la almohada del otro lado de la cama y entonces lo nota.

una única pluma negra.

perfecta. brillante. inquietantemente suave contra la seda de la almohada.

se incorpora de golpe. el corazón se le trepa a la garganta con dedos fríos. su respiración se le rompe en mil fragmentos. sus ojos recorren el dormitorio con un instinto que no ha aprendido, pero que siempre ha tenido.

las cortinas se agitan apenas. el aire está quieto. todo está igual.

excepto por él. la figura oscura la espera en el alféizar como la parca.

el cuervo.

dentro.

otra vez.

sus garras no suenan. no deja sombra al posarse. pero está allí, tan real como el escalofrío que le trepa por la espalda.

arya lo observa como si fuera una alucinación materializada, una pesadilla que ha aprendido el camino de su cama.

❝¿qué... qué parte de 'afuera' no entiendes?❞ pregunta, incrédula, llevándose una mano a la frente, como para comprobar que aún está entera.

se levanta con pasos lentos, su largo camisón negro bailando alrededor de sus pies como el aliento de un fantasma, con tirantes que se deslizan de un hombro y bordados antiguos en el dobladillo. la tela se le pega a la piel con el frío del amanecer. el suelo de piedra le roba el calor de los pies.

y aun así, lo que más la estremece es esa mirada. el cuervo la contempla con la tranquilidad de quien ha dormido allí toda la noche. como si el cuarto fuera suyo y ella lo estuviera invadiendo.

❝vale, bien. estoy oficialmente aterrada.❞ dice, cruzándose de brazoscon gesto resignado. ❝esto ya no es gracioso.❞

le hace un gesto con la mano, tajante. el cuervo ni parpadea.

se acerca y lo empuja con dos dedos. muy suavemente al primero.

nada. el cuervo no se mueve ni un centímetro.

❝¿en serio?❞ frunce el ceño, y esta vez le da un empujón con la palma entera. más firme. pero el ave sigue impasible. como si el mundo no pudiera moverlo.

arya retrocede un paso. ❝o esto es una obsesión enfermiza en la que un animal se ha enamorado de una bruja, o...❞ lo mira de reojo. ❝... o eres mi familiar.❞

el cuervo ladea la cabeza, muy despacio. como si le diera la razón.

arya abre la boca. la cierra. luego la vuelve de abrir. ❝¿eso es un 'sí'? ¿me estás dando la razón?❞

silencio. el tipo de silencio que no es vacío, sino expectante.

ella suspira profundamente.

❝vale. si vamos a hacer todo esto,❞ dice, señalando con un dedo vago el cuarto, ellos dos, la situación — la locura en general, ❝y vamos a compartir la casa — a regañadientes por mi parte —, necesitas un nombre. no soporto visitas sin nombre.❞

cruza los brazos, pensativa. ❝¿plumón? no... suena como a cojín. ¿tenebris? demasiado drama...

❝¿molesto? a ver... adecuado, pero no.❞

nada. arya lo intenta de nuevo. ❝¿qué tal algo real? ¿cornelio? o quizás... ¿fernando el primero de los insufribles?❞

el cuervo bosteza. literalmente.

arya lo observa con expresión de absoluta incredulidad.

❝perfecto. un ave con actitud. justo lo que me faltaba.❞ se da la vuelta con un giro de túnica fantasmal.

❝¿sabes qué? no. si no quieres un nombre, te vas. familiar o no.❞

camina hacia la estantería, descalza, el camisón ondeando alrededor de sus tobillos. saca un tomo enorme de hechizos, encuadernado en cuero agrietado y bordes dorados. se vuelve hacia él como el que prepara un exorcismo.

❝fuera. fuera de mi habitación, paloma gigante con complejo de sombra.❞ intenta empujarlo con el libro, pero el cuervo no cede ni un centímetro.

❝¡eres la criatura más terca, arrogante y absolutamente insufrible que he tenido la desgracia de cono—❞

❝lo mismo digo.❞

el chillido que arya suelta no parece humano. es agudo. cortante. más emoción que sonido.

le lanza el libro sin pensar.

el cuervo se mueve un paso a la derecha, casi aburrido, como quien se aparta de la lluvia. el tomo pasa de largo y se estrella contra la pared, dejando una grieta visible.

el cuervo suspira.

❝vaya. qué grosera.❞

｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡ [ おしゃれ ] .ᐟ

@ ‎hwangspages : todos los derechos reservados. no repostear, traducir, copiar, ni rehacer.

[hwangspages]

⚝.⋆☾⋆⁺ ALAS DEL DEMONIO ˒˒ 황현진

❝ ᴇɴ ᴇʟ ǫᴜᴇ 𓈓 cuando arya, una bruja joven con apenas un rastro de magia a su nombre, conoce a un cuervo con una lengua peligrosamente afilada, no le da importancia a ayudarle...

hasta que él empieza a hablar en acertijos y promesas de maldiciones, demonios y poder olvidado. porque este cuervo no es una criatura común : es un príncipe demonio, atrapado en esta forma emplumada por una maldición, condenado a vagar entre mundos hasta que alguien suficientemente valiente — o imprudente — lo libere.

movida por la curiosidad, arya se ve arrastrada a un mundo de rituales prohibidos, magia demoníaca y tratos sarcásticos con un cuervo que parece demasiado hábil para meterse bajo su piel.

ᴘ ‎⸝⸝⸝ 스트레이 키즈 príncipe demonio! hwang hyunjin x bruja! arya raven ɢ ‎⸝⸝⸝ fantasía, romance 𓂃⊹` ⋮ magia oscura, rituales prohibidos, sangre, maldiciones, pactos demoníacos ── .✦ ( 𝓂. list ) 𓂃✷⋆⸜ [ 3.4K ] ⋆˚࿔╰› 𝓅laylist ⸝⸝

inspirado por / para los fans de one dark window, kingdom of the wicked, the witcher.

□□□□□□ 0% complete

EL AUGURIO NEGRO ⚝.⋆☾⋆⁺ ( capítulo uno ) 𓂃✷⋆⸜ [ 3.4K ]

LA MALDICIÓN EMPLUMADA ⚝.⋆☾⋆⁺ ( capítulo dos ) 𓂃✷⋆⸜ [ en breve . . . .ᐟ ]

── .⋆ ˙⟡ volver al 𝓂asterlist

todas las fechas, lugares, eventos y personajes son fictiosos. la representación de hyunjin y la de su comportamiento en la historia no intentan reflejar en ningún modo su personalidad real. sus acciones y características personales han sido ajustadas para encajar con la narrativa de la historia. ten en cuenta que nada de esto es real ni pretende reflejar la realidad.

｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡ [ おしゃれ ] .ᐟ

@ hwangspages : todos los derechos reservados. no repostear, traducir ni rehacer en ninguna otra forma. mis obras no representan de manera precisa a los ídolos y no deben ser interpretadas como tal.

[hwangspages]

A 𝒲ORLD OF 𝒟REAMS ˒˒ 이희승 [ ──˖.✦ the final illusion, chapter one ]

❝ ɪɴ ᴡʜɪcʜ 𓈓 the town is alive with whispers and excitement as an enigmatic carnival arrives, cloaked in mystery and promises of wonder under the darkness of the night. its velvet tents beckon the curious and the bold, the banners fluttering in the glimmering starlight. sowon, swept up by the eager anticipation, steps into the heart of the carnival and is welcomed by the haunting beauty of its world. performances are whispered to be unlike anything seen before — illusions spun from shadows and secrets, each act more enchanting than the last.

ᴘ ‎⸝⸝⸝ 엔하이픈 illusionist! lee heeseung x choi sowon ɢ ‎⸝⸝⸝ fantasy, romance 𓂃⊹` ⋮ dark themes, magic, fear, manipulation by magic, feat. enhypen members ── .✦ ( 𝓂.list ) ˖ ⟢ ‧₊˚ ⋅ back to 𝓈eries ℴverview 𓂃✷⋆⸜ [ 7.4K ] ⋆˚࿔╰› 𝓅laylist ⸝⸝

｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡ [ おしゃれ ] .ᐟ

❝SORROW CLUNG TO HIM, THICK AND SUFFOCATING, LIKE AN ENDLESS OCEAN SWALLOWING HIS SOUL.

every note he had sung still echoed in his veins, intensifying the immense grief that had become his life's tether. he didn't feel the cool night air, nor did he acknowledge the hum of the distant crowd — there was only a deep, unsurmountable ache settled firmly in his heart and soul.

on his shoulders he carried the unbearable weight of a thousand love stories turned to crumbling tragedies. each word sung and note plucked lingered in his chest like shards of glass, making him bleed silently.

joy was a distant memory, hazy and unreachable. sunoo remembered the warmth he used to feel when happiness spread through his chest like a light blanket, but that was a long time ago. now, the feeling was only in his memory, buried deep in his mind. remote, blurred and inaccessible, it stabbed at the edges of his consciousness.

sorrow was, and always will be, his only companion — a melody he couldn't avoid, a song he didn't know how to stop singing.

｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡ [ おしゃれ ] .ᐟ

1843, MOKCHEON [ 목천 ]. THREE YEARS EARLIER

❝THE TOWN IS BUZZING WITH ENERGY AS SOWON PUSHES THROUGH THE COBBLED STREETS, WORDS OF THE ARRIVAL OF A MYSTERIOUS CARNIVAL REACHING HER EARS. the merchants and their customers talk about its sudden overnight appearance and the air of a mysterious and dark silence surrounding the place.

i'm tellin' ya, the thing appeared out of nowhere. nothin' and, boom. overnight. it's weird is what it is.

but imma go anyway, the poster's some fine work, ya saw it?

as if with the help of magic, the posters appeared out of thin air, too, spread throughout the entirety of mokcheon. not even those working deep into the night have seen them being hanged on carts with goods, house walls or tree trunks.

sowon frowns, sidestepping a merchant already well into his cups, even though it's still early in the day. he wobbles on his feet and almost steps on a small boy who manages to avoid him by sheer luck alone. she tugs on the collar of her high-necked dress, already feeling the suffocating heat the day will bring.

there's a small crowd of people gathered around the notice board at the lantern square when sowon arrives. she comes to stand at the edge next to mina, the innkeeper's young daughter. when she sees her, mina gives her a small smile and hides her hands into her skirts. sowon returns the kindness with an upward tilt of her lips and turns toward the board, looking for a specific poster.

there it is, right at the very center. almost as black as night, its letters glimmer with an otherworldly glow, as though they were spun from silver starlight. the lettering is intricate and serpentine, each curve like a whispered promise of something forbidden. anticipation bubbling in her veins, sowon reads the words.

❝𝒲elcome to

ℰ𝒾𝒹ℴ𝓁ℴ𝓃'𝓈 ℳ𝒾r𝒶𝑔ℯ

where both your daydreams and nightmares come to life, and even your heart's deepest desires and fears come true.❞

the poster lists the performances, but they reveal nothing — only titles and names as cryptic as the promise written above them. each title pulls at her curiosity, like a door half-open, daring her to step inside.

beneath the last line, as if scribbled as an afterthought, is one more word. midnight.

the people around her engage in hushed conversations about the mysterious poster, their words reaching sowon's ears as indistinct murmurs. she catches fragments like strange, mysterious, and probably a ruse. yet when the invitation is extended, they all agree to attend.

sowon isn't surprised. townsfolk in this part of the world are naturally curious, always eager to peer into others' lives. a mysterious carnival is exactly the kind of intrigue that captures their imagination and sets their minds racing.

the remaining hours before the clock strikes midnight pass in a blur. people rush through the streets, haggling with merchants over swaths of fabric while wanderers occasionally pilfer apples from distracted sellers. but as darkness falls and night claims its dominion, everyone is inexorably drawn to the town's outskirts.

the carnival has appeared just outside of the mistveil forest, leaving the people shaking and refusing to look directly into the woods, as if something unseen might stare back.

tales of spirits guarding the forest and shadowy figures that snatch babes away have circulated in mokcheon for centuries. though their main purpose is to keep children from wandering and they're best dismissed, the people still cling to these old stories, fearful of the dark and the hidden things that might lie just out of sight. living in a town that is shrouded in perpetual twilight, the folk are nothing if not superstitious.

the ancient trees, with their twisted limbs, stand like silent sentinels behind the carnival tents. their rustling leaves whisper with every gust of wind, adding to the stillness that hovers in the air. there is no music emanating from within the carnival grounds — not a single note. all is quiet except for the idle chatter of people waiting to go inside, their nervous laughter and excited voices a sharp contrast to the heavy silence that lingers in the creeping shadows of the forest.

sowon clutches her purse tightly, feeling the coins inside gather into her palm through the fabric of the handbag and her thin gloves. it's not much, but she hopes it will be enough to grant her entry. she glances at seojin, who stands beside her and bounces on her heels with an energy that contrasts her own cautious stillness.

she's wearing a black gown kissed with strokes of fire — deep crimson embroidery curling along the corset, hints of smoldering orange hidden in the layered fabric of her skirts. her sleeves are sheer, a whisper of gauzy black tulle. at her waist, a thin golden chain glints under the carnival glow, a subtle but striking accent.

she does not blend into the darkness like sowon does with her black skirts. like a flickering ember against the night, she stands in contrast to sowon's gown of shadow and moonlight. her dress flows in layered waves of black and ashen grey, the skirts cascading in soft, whispering folds and gently brushing the ground. the bodice clings to her form, adorned with intricate lace and beaded embroidery that catches the light like scattered stardust.

the neckline dips in an elegant curve, showing her collarbones through the sheer lace on top. long lace gloves extend past her elbows, seamlessly blending into the dark elegance of her sleeves.

her hair flows freely down her back in long black tresses, reaching the small of her back.

❝can you feel that?❞ her best friend grins, eyes sparkling in the dim light. she wiggles her eyebrows at sowon. ❝the excitement in the air. i bet this carnival's full of more than just performances.❞

sowon shifts, glancing at the dark trees behind the tents. they seem to groan in the light breeze of the night. ❝i've heard rumors about places like this. strange things happen sometimes.❞

❝rumors?❞ seojin laughs, blowing her hair away from her forehead. ❝trust me, sowon, it's going to be amazing. and if anyone tries to eat us, i'll fight 'em with my purse.❞

to further emphasize her point, she swats her handbag through the air. sowon can't help but smile at seojin's warm boldness, though a small knot tightens in her stomach. ❝i hope we won't need to fight anything off,❞ she mutters, more to herself than to seojin.

❝hmm... something about this place? feels like it's hiding more than just performers,❞ she looks around, but her grin doesn't falter. sowon can feel her anticipation as much as she feels her own. ❝i bet there's a little magic in the air.❞ she winks, nudging sowon with her elbow.

once at the entrance, sowon notices the same poster that was pinned to the main notice board in the center of the square. she scans the elegant penmanship again, her eyes snagging on the titles of each performance. she has only a second to wonder what they might entail when seojin tugs her through the gates by her elbow, muttering about finding good sitting spots.

sowon doesn't have a choice but to follow, her friend leading her through the walked path and toward one of the tents. she barely registers they did not pay for tickets at the entrance.

suddenly, the air shifts. a chill prickles at the back of sowon's neck, and her free hand rises instinctively to rub the cold skin. her gaze sweeps across the crowd, catching fragments of gasps and whispered exclamations. laughter mingles with sighs of delight as wide-eyed onlookers marvel at the sights around them. she turns toward her friend —

and then she sees him.

a man, standing at the entrance of one of the tents. his coat flutters faintly in the wind, the fabric dark as shadows and tailored to perfection. the flap curls around his legs, but it's his eyes that ensnare her. locked onto hers — intense, piercing, and deep enough to drown in, they hold her gaze with a force that sends a chill down her spine.

sowon stumbles, breath hitching at the sheer force of his gaze, a strange sensation curling in her chest.

his face is hauntingly perfect, bathed in moonlight that sharpens each elegant feature. he looks like a figure pulled from an ancient portrait — painted with a quiet intensity and sharp, deliberate strokes.

the corner of his lips curls, and a shudder snakes its way up her spine. he seems otherworldly, caught between reality and something just beyond it.

❝sowon?❞ seojin's voice pulls her back, breaking the spell. she tears her gaze from the man and turns to her friend, who's watching her with furrowed brows.

❝there's a—❞ she spins back toward the tent, but the man is gone. the entrance of the tent flutters innocently in the wind, empty.

she blinks, confused. seojin looks at her expectantly.

❝i... never mind. let's go.❞ grabbing her friend's elbow, she steers them toward the biggest tent, following the crowd, her heartbeat loud in her ears.

they weave through the growing crowd, the air humming with a strange energy and voices blending into a low buzz of excitement. lanterns sway in the breeze, their dim light flickering across the rows of tents that seem to stretch in every direction.

sowon and seojin reach the largest tent, a looming structure of dark fabric stitched with silver patterns that shift under the light. a line has already formed at the entrance, guests speaking in hushed tones, eyes wide with expectation.

sowon feels it again — that same prickle at the back of her neck. her gaze flickers across the crowd, but the man from earlier is nowhere to be seen. still, his vivid image lingers in her mind — sharp, hauntingly beautiful, and just a little too unreal.

the flap of the tent is opened, and the crowd presses forward. sowon steps inside with seojin on her heels, breath catching as the heavy darkness swallows her whole. she can barely make out the seats standing in her way, and she carefully tugs seojin forward, to the very front. spotting just two empty seats in the middle of the third row, she tugs at seojin's arm.

once seated, sowon becomes aware of her cold hands clutched in her purse. she shares a nervous smile with her friend, who gives her a wink.

for a few long moments, everything is still. then, a spotlight flashes onto the center of the stage, illuminating a figure dressed in an immaculate coat of midnight black with hints of silver. the audience quietens.

his features are all sharp angles — high cheekbones and a strong jaw, framed by raven-dark hair that seems perfectly tousled.

his smile is dangerously charming and lopsided, his eyes glinting with mischief. his voice rings out, smooth and commanding, cutting through the heavy silence.

❝ladies and gentlemen, dreamers and wanderers...❞ he begins, taking a deliberate step forward. ❝welcome to eidolon's mirage, where nothing is as it seems, and everything you see is merely a shadow of what lies beyond.❞

suddenly, another figure steps onto the stage from behind the curtain, dressed in the same dark coat with silver linings. his steps are sure and charged with energy. he stops next to the other man, hands clasped in front of them, and for a breathless moment, they stand at equal height and build, as if they're the same person.

the newcomer suddenly swings his arm at his colleague, and it all happens in a blink. where he should have hit him straight across the face, his hand passes through him instead, leaving only smoke in its wake. with an elegant flourish, the dark fumes dissipate, revealing the man standing on the podium alone.

the audience gasps, and the man speaks in the same voice as his illusion. ❝tonight, you will witness magic, illusion, and the beauty of the impossible. but beware...❞ the corners of his lips tug upward, and the flicker of his devilish smile seems as dangerous as a trap cloaked beneath velvet words. ❝every wonder has its cost, and every illusion names its price.❞

the ringmaster — if that's truly who he is — walks to the edge of the stage, letting his obsidian eyes run over the audience. nobody dares breathe as he scans the crowd with his hungry gaze.

❝the night is young, and so are your dreams. shall we begin?❞ he speaks with measured confidence that leaves no room for doubt or objection. sowon feels goosebumps raise along her arms at the sheer intensity of him.

the lights pointed at him suddenly turn off, plunging them into darkness. some gasp, others let out quiet shrieks. sowon meets seojin's hand on her armrest and grips her fingers in her own.

❝from the depths of darkness, shadows come alive. what you will see is not light's absence — but its secret reflection.❞ the ringmaster's voice now echoes from all directions, wrapping around them like silk around steel — smooth, yet sharp enough to cut. ❝be careful where you step, for the shadows have been waiting... and they are oh-so-hungry.❞

as the last word fades into silence, the spotlight shines on the stage anew where a man is now standing, tall and dark.

the trickster, sowon remembers from the poster, his nickname written just below the title of the first performance — his performance. phantom's rhapsody.

his hair falls around his face in white strands that turn to black as they reach his forehead, as if dipped in ink. his skin glows in the white light, silver and pale. despite his mysterious appearance, his features are soft and graceful. there's a youthful sharpness to him, like a blade not yet dulled by time.

the air seems to hold its breath. slowly, the shadows around the stage come alive. they begin writhing and twisting, bleeding into the center like ink spilled on parchment. they ripple and swell, curling around him, swallowing every light until the entire tent becomes a sea of blackness once again.

and then, he expels them from the heart of the blackness, letting the light in again. he manipulates the shadows as living entities — slithering tendrils that dance around the stage, forming shapes and figures.

he moves around the stage with a fluid grace, each step agile. the shadows coil around his ankles as he walks, climbing like ivy before they break away, following his command. they reshape themselves into flickering beasts — creatures with four eyes and two mouths, monsters with hunched backs and teeth as sharp as blades.

sowon hears strangled sounds from the audience as horror settles into their skin. her heart beats wildly against her ribcage as she watches the shadows snap their smoky jaws and rake their long claws through the air.

the man's body becomes the center of the inky storm as he spins shadows into threads and then unravels them just as quickly. he moves like liquid shadow himself — a flash of dark eyes and a smirk one moment, and then he's gone, disappearing behind his shadows.

the darkness clings to him like an old friend before he forces it to collapse at his feet, leaving only thin tendrils floating in the air and through his slightly tousled hair. his face is expressionless when he turns back to the crowd.

❝shadows whisper secrets we're not meant to know. but tonight, we'll share a few.❞ his voice is deep when the words slither past his lips, rumbling through the tent. in a blink, he sends his shadows into the audience.

wild and screeching, as if let off a leash, they crawl out toward the crowd, ruffling their hair and clothes, sniffing the air. searching, they still for a breathless moment, and then, suddenly, they shift again, coming together into one liquid tendril.

for a moment, everything is quiet. then screams erupt as the shadows take on familiar shapes. a gaping void with no escape subtly turns into a dark figure with hollow eyes as soon as it receives horrified screams of terror.

the shadows shift, forming into the deepest fears hidden within each member of the crowd for all to see. they morph into something different for everyone — fragments of nightmares they try to bury deep inside their souls.

the shadows swell and blend together, stretching across the tent. their forms lurk at the edge of sowon's vision — always moving, never caught.

sowon's breath catches in her throat as the shadows twist into something she recognizes — a memory she thought long forgotten. but there it looms, more real than ever, her best friend's voice calling out for her in the darkness of the forest over and over again as she can't find her way back home.

her heart beats wildly as she stiffens in her seat, eyes wide. she turns back to the stage and finds the trickster's eyes already on her. his lips curl into a faint smirk as he watches her reaction.

with a snap of his fingers, the shadows unravel one final time, swirling into a cyclone that consumes the stage.

when the darkness dissipates, it's replaced by something entirely different — a rush of heat and light as a fire bursts into life at the edge of the stage. the shadows twirl and curl around the flames, blending in with the hot fire.

the trickster is nowhere to be found, gone with his shadows. in his place stands a shorter man, the flames reflected in his eyes that burn like coals — alive with a spark of passion and recklessness. his skin glows as if the sun itself kissed it, golden and warm.

❝fire and ice, water and storm... a symphony of elements at his fingertips. the magician bends the wild and the unruly, weaving chaos into harmony.❞ the ringmaster's voice rings out again, and sowon presses her hand against her chest. the heat radiates out toward the audience, warming their skin, coaxing beads of sweat to form on their brows. sowon feels her hands, previously clammy with cold sweat, quickly warming up.

❝but the elements, untamed and restless, are twice as dangerous as they are fleeting. even the gentlest flame can burn, and even the calmest of waters can drown.❞

the magician's hair is the color of honey, wild and warm. his grin is a flash of white heat — bright and radiant. reckless. impossible to resist.

the air hums with energy and the flames crackle and hiss as they jump into his hands and lick at his fingertips. they curl into spirals that dance in midair as he steps closer to the edge of the stage, his eyes glinting with mischief. he lets out a quiet chuckle, gathering the flames closer. he laughs like a wildfire, unstoppable and consuming.

the fire swirls around him, illuminating his face in a golden glow. the bright tendrils stretch along his arms, engulfing him in heat, but he doesn't so much as blink. he dances with the fire like an old lover — playful and daring, never quite getting burned.

his smile is still fixed in place when he twirls his fingers again, gathering the flames into one big ball in his hands.

then, with a flick of his wrist, they twist and stretch, morphing into shimmering tendrils of water that coil around him and spin through the air. the droplets catch the light, sparkling like a thousand tiny stars.

❝isn't it strange,❞ the magician's voice cuts through the sound of the rushing water, words slow and deliberate. his accent gives them a lulling tone. ❝how easily one thing becomes another? fire turns to water, destruction into life.❞

he waves his hand, sending the water into the air. it shoots out into a spiral above him before freezing in midair. the warmth disappears from the air with the flames and the tent fills with a sudden chill as the air crackles with frost. people in the crowd rub their hands together to ward off the sudden cold, their breaths coming out in white puffs.

the frozen spiral suddenly shatters into a cloud of ice crystals, each flake drifting gently down and settling over the audience, onto their hair or the tops of their shoulders.

the audience reacts, gasps filling the frigid air, as snowflakes begin to fall from the top of the tent. some reach out, catching them on their palms, marveling at the icy touch. sowon also stretches her hand out, and one flake lands on her chiffon-covered palm, perfect and beautiful. and real, melting into her glove a few seconds later.

sowon looks up as the magician steps back into the shadows, his lips curling into a satisfied smile. the crowd's eyes follow the falling snowflakes upward, where a figure emerges from the darkness.

there, suspended on a thin rope above them, is none other than the aerialist. the crowd cries out, but his movements are fluid and effortless as he steps onto the line, walking with perfect balance. the snow catches in his black hair, glistening like starlight. the strands pale under the white of the ice and snowflakes, catching the light like spun frost.

he gazes down at the audience with an elegant smile. the sharp lines of his face glint in the light, as if he were carved from ice itself. his features are cold beauty, like a marble statue — perfect and distant.

❝he dances with the winter wind, a phantom in the snow. his every step leaves frost in the air, and his every breath shapes the storm. icy winds and snow obey his every whim, and the sky bends to his will, but beware — the higher the aerialist soars, the colder the world becomes.❞

the ringmaster's voice accompanies the aerialist as he walks across the high ropes like a ghost, effortless and untouchable. his movements are precise and sharp, yet there's a touch of gentleness in them. much like touching a china or porcelain — it, too, breaks with the barest of careless touches.

his feet are light as he skips along the rope, reaching the end without a single stumble. a silver-edged grace, every motion deliberate yet weightless.

when he walks to hover over the audience again, he spins and twists midair, weaving trails of frost that shimmer under the lights. the rope sways beneath him, but his balance never falters. his movements are deliberate and graceful.

the snow falls heavier now, swirling around him as the air crackles with cold, icy magic. then, with a flick of his wrist, an ice bridge forms beneath his feet — a narrow, crystalline path stretching across the tent. transparent with the barest hue of fading blue and pale white, it sparkles in the dim light. fragile and beautiful. the audience's breath catches in their throats.

they watch in awe as he runs across the bridge, his footsteps light and quick. but just as he reaches the center, cracks spiderweb through the ice. he freezes and, for a heartbeat, everything is still.

then, the bridge shatters beneath him.

gasps and screams fill the tent as the aerialist plunges toward the stage below. he, however, remains calm and collected, elegant even in his fall.

next to sowon, seojin jumps up from her seat, her hands clasped together in front of her chest. her eyes are wide as they follow the aerialist's quick descent and inevitable fall.

but before he can hit the ground, the swirling snow catches him, holding him in midair. he hovers for a moment, suspended in the storm of ice and snow, before descending in a slow spiral. when his feet touch the frosty stage, the ice spreads from his boots and envelops the podium. in less than a blink, the stage becomes a glinting ice that glows a faint blue.

his boots have also frozen, the ice reshaping them into skates with sharp, shimmering blades. with a graceful turn, the aerialist begins to dance across the stage, skating in wide arcs and tight spins. his movements are fluid, a perfect blend of strength and elegance. frost blooms in patters beneath his skates, creating intricate designs of frozen mist and melting snowflakes that vanish as quickly as they appear.

as he spins one last time, the ice begins to thaw. it trickles down the stage in droplets before hissing and turning into smoke. a thick mist rises from the stage, curling around his feet and obscuring the frozen surface.

imperceptibly at first, the air grows warmer and the frost melts into puddles of dark water. from somewhere in the fog, a hauntingly beautiful voice begins to sing.

the melody is soft at first, almost like a lullaby, but it carries a deep ache that makes the audience shiver.

❝listen closely, dear dreamers... can you hear it?❞ the ringmaster's charismatic voice fills their ears again, this time quieter and full of an emotion more sorrowful than before.

❝a voice calls for you from the depths — a song of incomprehensible beauty, sharp sorrow, and depthless longing.❞ the mist thickens, swirling across the stage until it resembles a dark pond, rippling as if something stirs beneath the surface.

❝but remember: once you listen, you may never be the same again.❞

the voice grows louder, the sorrow in it palpable, and a figure steps out of the mist. his features are soft yet otherworldly, delicate like glass but hiding something ancient. his presence feels ethereal, like something too vast for this small world. with skin almost translucent under the dim lights and glowing faintly like sea foam kissed by starlight, he steps out of the shadows. his bare feet barely make a sound on the stage as he walks, his movements slow and filled with emotion.

the mist follows him, wrapping around his ankles like a living thing. with every note, the audience becomes more and more entranced. his voice is hypnotic as he uses it to reach the audience's hearts and fill them with depthless sorrow and sadness. his siren-like eyes seem to hold the ocean's depth, their gaze both a lure and a warning.

there's something fragile about him, as if a single touch could shatter the magic he holds. yet none dare move, his voice holding them in trance.

he smoothly transitions from one song to the next, and smoky figures rise from the mist, their forms flickering like shadows on water. they act out the story of his song — lovers drowning in the sea, sailors lost to the depths of the ocean, and creatures of the deep calling out with sorrowful cries.

for a moment, it's as if the tent itself has transformed into an endless, vast and misty sea. a tear falls from sowon's eye and cascades down her pale cheek, her brows furrowing at the sheer amount of raw pain the siren's song holds.

his voice dips into a hauntingly low note, and the shadowy figures writhe and twist before dissipating into the air, leaving only mist behind. his final notes push desperation and longing into people's hearts before all becomes silent. for a heartbeat too long, he stands unmoving on the stage, his bright hair catching enough light to shimmer faintly. then he turns, disappearing into the fog as quietly as he arrived.

yet the mist lingers, swirling around the stage like restless ghosts. ever so slowly, it begins to thicken and darken, shifting from a dark, watery blue to a deep green.

the air grows heavy, almost suffocating, as the mist twists into the shapes of towering trees, their shadows stretching across the tent walls. thick vines curl up from the ground, creeping toward the edges of the stage.

the transformation is swift, almost dizzying — one moment it's a still lagoon, the next it's a dense, living jungle with insects chirping and flying around.

the audience stirs in their seats, the illusion so vivid that it feels like the tent itself has vanished into the wild.

❝thread carefully, now, my friends.❞ the ringmaster's voice cuts through the humid air, a sly smile audible in his words, ❝wilderness breathes here, untamed and eternal. and for where there are beasts, there is always hunger.❞

the jungle grows darker, the shadows deepening. a low growl echoes from the depths of the mist. then another. and another.

the performer steps out of the shadows, his big eyes glinting like a predator's, his movements smooth and controlled. his tousled hair, unruly and thick, gives him a feral charm that is accompanied by a wild smile. the grin is a dangerous promise, quick and fleeting, like a knife drawn and sheathed in a single heartbeat.

his presence hums with raw energy, like a storm barely contained beneath his skin. there's a rough edge to his beauty — a nature's work, not man's design.

❝smoke and shadow obey his call, but even the beast tamer must never let his guard slip.❞

he doesn't rush — he stalks across the stage, his every step deliberate. he raises a hand, and the shadows obey.

a tiger forms beside him, its body made of smoke and shadows, eyes glowing a fierce gold. the beast prowls around him, its tail swishing and teeth bared. another shadow takes shape to his right — a panther, sleek and deadly.

the beasts circle their master, their growls low and threatening. with a commanding flick of his wrist, they leap into the air and tear into each other. they slash at one another with their teeth and paws before the beast tamer twists his wrist again, commanding them to step away. they come to circle him once again, joined by more shadowy predators. a jaguar, a jungle cat, a white tiger, a leopard, animals from all over the globe round him up, snapping their jaws at him. they dance with him, moving in perfect sync as he spins and weaves through the jungle of shadows.

the audience's eyes are wide, watching the scene unblinking. the scent of earth and rain clings to the tent, like air before a rumbling storm. the beasts snarl and snap at each other, growing restless around the performer. hungrier. they close in on him with each passing moment.

but he doesn't seem to notice; focusing instead on threading through the jungle. his eyes, burn like molten amber, sharp and untamed. full of intensity and challenge.

he makes the beasts step out, bringing them closer to the audience. they prowl at the edges of the stage, growling at the crowd, and the performance grows darker.

suddenly, they paw through the thick jungle moss, quickly gathering around their master with a new boldness. he keeps flicking his wrist and snapping his fingers, but this time, the beasts refuse to listen.

he slows, his eyes narrowing as the shadow beasts' teeth glint under the lights, sharp and bared. the beast tamer looks around, panic settling into his features at last when he notices himself surrounded by his own creations.

before he has the time to set his eyes on the white tiger in front of him, it lunges at him, jaws open wide.

he yelps, covering his head with his hands.

the audience screams.

sowon jumps from her seat, followed by her friend.

but before the beast can reach him, it explodes into a burst of purple light and blackness, the illusion shattered.

the beast tamer looks up in time to see another man step onto the stage. the air crackles with energy, and the jungle falls silent.

he moves with confidence, his dark coat brushing the floor as his boots sink into the soft moss. his eyes gleam in the dim light, sharp and unyielding.

the audience sits frozen in their seats, captivated by the scene. sowon stares at the man, breath caught in her throat. her mind reels.

it's him. the man from before.

her heart thuds painfully as she takes in every detail of him — his tall, imposing figure, the confident way he moves, the dark, stormy eyes that seem to hold a thousand secrets.

her world seems to shrink around him, her pulse quickening.

even this close, his features are striking — sharp, yet elegantly refined. his cheekbones curve high and proud, casting faint shadows under the lights. his jawline is a cut of marble, strong and defined, leading to lips that seem carved with purpose — a mouth that promises both danger and delight.

his eyes are perhaps the most unsettling of all. deep-set and dark, they hold an uncanny stillness, drawing the crowd in with their quiet power. they glimmer faintly, as if hiding secrets far too old for this world.

his hair falls in dark waves, brushing just past his eyebrows, catching the light with a silken sheen.

when his eyes find hers, his gaze doesn't just meet hers — it devours her, peeling her apart piece by piece in a single, breathless moment.

his presence feels timeless and mysterious and almost tangible, the weight of it pressing against sowon's chest. he is as haunting as he is perfect, a being made entirely of moonlight and shadows.

｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡ [ おしゃれ ] .ᐟ

the crowd gasps as the tiger's massive paw hovers just inches from jungwon's face, but heeseung doesn't flinch. it's all part of the act.

jungwon knows exactly what he's doing. his beasts might seem feral and untamed, but they bow to his will — at least when he's performing. the price for that control always comes later, in the shadows of the carnival, gnawing at each of them piece by piece.

heeseung snaps his fingers, and the tiger vanishes in a cloud of smoke, leaving behind nothing but a trace of violet shadow curling at jungwon's feet. the rest of the beasts ripple and fade into curling shadows by the tamer's command a moment later.

the audience explodes into applause, the tent ringing with shouts of wonder and delight.

heeseung doesn't hear them. his eyes are already searching the crowd, gliding past bright faces and clapping hands. his pulse slows, the noise fading to a dull hum in the back of his mind. until—

there.

a woman in the third row, quietly watching, her face partially hidden in shadow. he almost misses her, but then the darkness shifts, the light catching her dark, straight hair and turning it to silk. her skin is soft and pale like porcelain, a stark contrast to the cold, eerie glow of the carnival lights.

she isn't clapping. her hands are clasped in front of her, fingers curled around her purse just enough to hint at tension. her expression is unreadable, but her eyes—

her eyes are something else entirely. a storm brews in them, dark and deep, with flickers of distant stars. they hold him captive, like the air has been pulled too tight, bending around her until nothing else exists.

time stumbles, falters, stops.

and in that suspended breath, something sharp and dangerous clicks into place. for the first time in what feels like an eternity, heeseung feels... something. an emotion stirring in his chest, undoubtedly.

before tonight, heeseung has never seen her, but he feels like he recognizes her. like he's been waiting for her. searching for her, without even realizing it, until this exact moment when she appeared and made the rest of the world feel suddenly, intolerably dull.

the woman next to her with her hair lifted in an intricate updo, her friend, perhaps, leans in, whispering something in her ear. the woman turns slightly, revealing the soft curve of her jaw and the delicate sweep of her collarbone beneath the sheer lace of her dress. there's an old-world elegance about her, the kind you'd find in forgotten portraits hanging in dust-filled galleries. one he hasn't seen in years.

heeseung's pulse thrums, slow and steady.

❝what is real, and what is only a trick of the eye?❞ jay's voice cuts through the air, pulling him back. ❝step into the dreamscape, where reality fractures like glass and illusions breathe with a life of their own. our illusionist will pull at the edges of your mind, bend your senses, and leave you questioning what lies beyond the veil. he will lead you through visions too beautiful to be real... and too vivid to forget. but remember — once you've seen his world, you may never want to return to your own.❞

heeseung steps forward, easily slipping into the spotlight. he can feel her eyes on him, and the weight of her gaze sets something alive under his skin.

he bows slightly, his lips curving into a faint smirk.

let's see if i can keep your attention, beautiful.

with a quick snap of his fingers, heeseung makes jungwon disappear. the audience react, but he lifts his hand again, and the air shivers.

it begins with a thread — thin and silver, spinning into existence from nothing. it loops and twirls in midair before splitting into two, then four, weaving itself into an intricate web. the tent fades around them, swallowed by darkness, until only the glowing threads remain.

heeseung twists his wrist, and the threads burst into stars, scattering across a midnight sky that stretches endlessly above them. the air smells of magic and stardust, the ground beneath their feet soft like clouds.

the stars pulse once, twice, and then begin to move.

a pair of lovers takes shape in the sky, their bodies shimmering silver, their movements graceful and slow. they dance across the heavens, their hands barely close enough to touch, their eyes locked in a gaze heavy with longing.

heeseung doesn't care for their suffering, even if he's the one causing it. he watches the woman in the third row. her lips part on a soft intake of breath.

the lovers dissolve into a cascade of petals, each one glowing faintly as it drifts downward. the audience catches them in their palms and crushes them with their fingers, but the rest of them gently land at their feet. they bloom into flowers — roses, irises, wild poppies — all in shades of moonlight and violet shadow.

for her, he creates a rose lily — beautiful and mesmerizing like her, glowing a faint lilac and illuminating her glassy complexion. her watches her pluck the flower and gingerly hold it in her hand.

the petals lift again, spiraling upward and weaving into a ship with silver sails. it crests a wave of stars, tilting dangerously before vanishing into the depths and getting replaced by sirens. they swim through the sea of stars, their tails swishing back and forth with powerful movements.

the audience gasps.

heeseung doesn't care.

he spins the illusion further, faster. flames ignite in midair, forming the wings of a phoenix and swallowing the screeching sirens. its feathers ripple with heat, glowing purple and silver, as it bursts into flight, trailing sparks behind it. it circles the tent once, twice, before exploding into a thousand tiny lights that rain gently down on the audience.

each light lands softly, clinging to the edges of their clothing, their hair, their skin before fading away.

the lights dim for a heartbeat, enough for the audience to believe the show has ended. applause fills the tent, wild and eager — but heeseung's not done yet. he doesn't move, and the clapping fades.

he stretches the silence just long enough for curiosity to settle in, for the air to hum with anticipation. he feels it like static licking at his skin, charging the space between him and the girl with eyes holding the stars.

he lifts his hand again. the tent vanishes into twilight.

a soft breeze stirs, carrying the scent of rain-soaked earth and wildflowers. the ground beneath their feet becomes a meadow bathed in silver moonlight, every blade of grass shimmering faintly. fireflies flicker in the distance, their light soft and golden, like whispers of forgotten wishes, until they disappear into the fog holding the edges of the vision.

then, from somewhere deep within the illusion, music begins to play — a melody slow and haunting, much like sunoo's. but this one is a lullaby sung by the wind.

at the center of the meadow, a figure appears — a girl made of light and shadow, her short hair flowing like ink in water. she dances barefoot, her movements fluid and dreamlike, her every step leaving glowing flowers in her wake. her face is veiled, her identity hidden, yet there's something achingly familiar in the way she moves, something intimate and bittersweet.

heeseung barely breathes as he watches his vision take shape.

the girl raises her arms, and the sky above them shifts, stars spiraling into new constellations. they burn brighter, hotter, until they break apart like shattering glass, raining fragments down onto the meadow. each fragment becomes a memory — images suspended in midair, flickering like ghostly lanterns.

the audience watches in rapture as the memories come to life. a child chasing a butterfly through a golden field. lovers meeting under the boughs of an ancient tree. siblings running around and playing tag. a lone figure standing on a cliff's edge, eyes on the horizon, longing for something just out of reach.

the dancing girl spins faster, and her complexion begins to change. she grows taller, her short hair replaced by long, flowing tresses, and her bright child's dress replaced by the elegance of dark gowns with intricate, elaborate stitching. slowly, the girl turns into a woman.

the memories swirl around her, fragments merging and breaking apart again in an endless cycle. her body flickers, her edges blurring as if she, too, is just another fleeting dream.

the music swells, rising into something almost unbearably beautiful.

the woman falters. she turns toward heeseung — or perhaps toward the audience, her eyes wide, unspoken words trembling on her lips. two faces staring at him, one still familiar and one achingly unforgettable, each from a different reality.

then, like a candle snuffed out by the wind, she's gone.

the meadow dissolves into stardust, swirling upward into a spiral of light before fading into darkness. the audience is left in silence, their breaths caught, their hearts suspended somewhere between awe and grief.

heeseung lowers his hand. for a moment, no one moves, the scent of magic thick in the air.

jay's voice rings out, loud and clear: ❝and so, the curtain falls, and the night returns to its quiet secrets.❞ the applause begins again — slow at first, then roaring, a wave of sound that crashes against the tent walls. people rise to their feet, shouting, clapping, eyes still shining with the afterglow of the illusion.

heeseung barely registers any of it.

she's still watching him.

and for the first time in what feels like forever, heeseung feels... alive.

❝you have seen wonders, touched dreams, and walked a path among shadows. but remember, dear dreamers... magic is a fickle thing. it lingers — if only for a heartbeat, or in the fading breath — and then vanishes into the night.❞

he steps back into the shadows, his heart pounding against his ribs with adrenaline.

and just like that, in one single evening, for the first time in decades, he's lost.

from behind his back, jay's voice fills the tent one last time tonight, closing the show. ❝may your dreams be full of heartbreaking nightmares and mouth-opening wonders. we'll be waiting, until we meet again beneath the stars.❞

｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡ [ おしゃれ ] .ᐟ

[hwangspages]

⋆.☘︎˚ ݁˖ 𝒪NCE 𝒰PON A 𝒯WIST

❝ɪɴ ᴡʜɪcʜ 𓈓 some stories end in happily ever after. others seem destined to — until they don't.

what if one small action, one fleeting choice, could rewrite the fate of a fairytale or turn a beloved classic on its head? step into a world where the familiar takes an unexpected turn, and nothing unfolds quite as it was meant to.

■□□□□□□□□□ 10% complete

⭑𓂃 .☘︎ ݁˖ back to 𝓂asterlist

｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡ [ おしゃれ ] .ᐟ

𝒞INDERELLA ˒˒ 이희승 ❝ʙᴜᴛ 𓈓 she never makes it to the ball.

ᴘ ‎⸝⸝⸝ 엔하이픈 prince! lee heeseung x cinderella! choi sowon ɢ ‎⸝⸝⸝ fantasy, romance 𓂃⊹` ⋮ mention of blood, betrayal, dark magic 𓂃✷⋆⸜ [ 7K ]

THE ℒITTLE ℳERMAID ˒˒ 황현진 ❝ʙᴜᴛ 𓈓 she is not a mermaid. instead, she's a siren.

ᴘ ‎⸝⸝⸝ prince! hwang hyunjin x siren! arya raven ɢ ‎⸝⸝⸝ fantasy, suggestive 𓂃✷⋆⸜ [ coming soon . . . .ᐟ ]

𝒮LEEPING ℬEAUTY ˒˒ 양정원 ❝ʙᴜᴛ 𓈓 the curse is not broken with a true love’s kiss. it is transmitted to them.

ᴘ ‎⸝⸝⸝ prince! yang jungwon x sleeping beauty! cheon sooin ɢ ‎⸝⸝⸝ fantasy 𓂃✷⋆⸜ [ coming soon . . . .ᐟ ]

ℒITTLE ℛED ℛIDING ℋOOD ˒˒ 명재현 ❝ʙᴜᴛ 𓈓 the wolf catches her before she can make it to grandma's house.

ᴘ ‎⸝⸝⸝ wolf! myung jaehyun x red riding hood! maeve rhodes ɢ ‎⸝⸝⸝ fantasy, dark 𓂃✷⋆⸜ [ coming soon . . . .ᐟ ]

THE ℱROG 𝒫RINCE ˒˒ 황현진 ❝ʙᴜᴛ 𓈓 he's cursed to die, so he avoids his fate by turning into a frog. to be able to shift back into his human form, his savior must first find a way to break the curse.

ᴘ ‎⸝⸝⸝ prince naveen! hwang hyunjin x tiana! arya raven ɢ ‎⸝⸝⸝ fantasy, romance 𓂃✷⋆⸜ [ coming soon . . . .ᐟ ]

ℬEAUTY AND THE ℬEAST ˒˒ 차은우 ❝ʙᴜᴛ 𓈓 the beast turns into his human form at dusk. the problem is that if he's seen and recognized before his curse is broken, he'll die.

ᴘ ‎⸝⸝⸝ beast! cha eunwoo x belle! kang sihyun ɢ ‎⸝⸝⸝ fantasy, romance 𓂃✷⋆⸜ [ coming soon . . . .ᐟ ]

ℱRANKENSTEIN ˒˒ 한태산 ❝ʙᴜᴛ 𓈓 instead of just any monster, he makes a female monster for himself.

ᴘ ‎⸝⸝⸝ viktor frankenstein! han taesan x frankenstein's monster! baek sua ɢ ‎⸝⸝⸝ science fiction, gothic, horror 𓂃✷⋆⸜ [ coming soon . . . .ᐟ ]

ℛOMEO AND 𝒥ULIET ˒˒ 황현진 ❝ʙᴜᴛ 𓈓 they're forbidden to marry each other, and when romeo can't have juliet, he decides no one can.

ᴘ ‎⸝⸝⸝ romeo! hwang hyunjin x juliet! arya raven ɢ ‎⸝⸝⸝ romance, tragedy 𓂃✷⋆⸜ [ coming soon . . . .ᐟ ]

𝒟RACULA ˒˒ 최범규, 이희승 ❝ʙᴜᴛ 𓈓 he turns out to be falsely accused of crimes he did not commit.

ᴘ ‎⸝⸝⸝ dracula! choi beomgyu, dracula! lee heeseung x song harin / choi sowon ɢ ‎⸝⸝⸝ horror 𓂃✷⋆⸜ [ coming soon . . . .ᐟ ]

THE 𝒢REAT 𝒢ATSBY ˒˒ 명재현 ❝ʙᴜᴛ 𓈓 it's not actually the great gatsby.

ᴘ ‎⸝⸝⸝ great gatsby! myung jaehyun x maeve rhodes ɢ ‎⸝⸝⸝ tragedy 𓂃✷⋆⸜ [ coming soon . . . .ᐟ ]

｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡ [ おしゃれ ] .ᐟ

@ hwangspages : all rights reserved. do not repost, translate or remake. my works are in no way an accurate representation of the idols and should not be taken as such.

[hwangspages]

CINDERELLA ˒˒ 이희승

❝ ɪɴ ᴡʜɪcʜ 𓈓 she never makes it to the ball.

ᴘ ‎⸝⸝⸝ 엔하이픈 prince! lee heeseung x cinderella! choi sowon ɢ ‎⸝⸝⸝ fantasy, romance 𓂃⊹` ⋮ mention of blood, betrayal, dark magic ── .✦ ( 𝓂. list ) 𓂃✷⋆⸜ [ 7K ]

｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡ [ おしゃれ ] .ᐟ

❝THE CLOCK CHIMES EIGHT AS SOWON TIGHTENS THE RIBBON OF HER GOWN. her heart races with excitement and nerves from all the possibilities hidden in the night — tonight, for the first time in years, she isn’t just a servant to her stepmother’s whims. tonight, she is someone new, someone unrecognizable, someone worthy of a prince.

the thought sends a thrill down her spine, though it's quickly tempered by a sliver of doubt. what if they see through her charade? what if even the fairy godmother's help is not enough to hide her from the evil creatures that have become the members of her family?

shaking the thought away, she pulls the glass slippers from their velvet pouch, slipping them on one foot at a time. her grey-blue gown sparkles in the soft lamplight inside the enchanted coach. the work of magic, the godmother had said. ❝you’ll dazzle them all.❞

and she desperately wanted to believe it.

the coach suddenly stops, and sowon startles to realize they have arrived at the castle. letting herself get swallowed by her thoughts and preoccupations, she hasn't been paying attention to the road, not noticing the rough path being replaced by smooth cobblestones.

taking a deep breath, she opens the glittering door and pokes her head out of the enchanted pumpkin. she let herself soak in the enormous castle and the gardens surrounding the premise before focusing on the task of carefully setting her foot in the glass slipper on the first step.

she's already halfway out the door, her wild heart set on the ball, when she hears the groan.

it's faint, almost swallowed by the rustle of leaves in the evening breeze, but the sound is unmistakable — a voice. sowon freezes, one hand clutching the edge of her magical skirts, the other gripping the doorframe. the world outside of the palace lanterns' glow seem impossibly dark and she struggles to peer into the distance where she heard the sound coming from.

a chill runs down her spine when she hears another cry. she hovers on the top of the stairs, torn between living the fairytale she's eagerly anticipating and feeding her curiosity sprinkled with mild worry. finally, after what feels like a large number of long seconds of absolute quiet, she makes her decision, stepping down the ladder.

sowon takes in the grandiosity of the castle with its lights dimmed to set the tone of the evening. only a few lanterns bob along the gravel path in the breeze. if it weren't for the magical glow of her enchanted pumpkin coach, she would be swallowed by the edges of darkness until reaching the first lantern a few meters away. she takes a few light steps in her new slippers, putting the sturdy crystal heels to the test. she lets out a breath when she hears no cracking beneath her weight.

sowon reaches the first light. she turns to see her coach still patiently waiting behind her back. the horse makes an annoyed sound as if labeling her decision as reckless.

her stomach twists as she steps off the path and into the dark.

holding her skirts, she makes her way around the outer gardens of the castle toward where she heard the voice coming from. her hands tremble, and for the first time this evening, she curses herself for her foolishness. who is she to roam around the castle in the dark?

chastising herself, she almost doesn't notice the form slumped between groomed bushes at the beginning of the garden maze. sowon gasps when it rustles around on the perfectly trimmed grass before stilling once again.

her heart beats wildly in her chest as she notices an arm peeking from beneath the voluminous robes. she hurries toward the figure, hands in her skirts, when she notices dark spots on the palace-worthy clothes. her eyes bulge and she lets out a quiet curse under her breath. the dark spots are, among caked dirt and freshly-looking mud, traces of blood. long streaks interwoven with splashes that go almost all the way to the hem. only then does sowon realize the arm is also bloodied from palm to elbow.

❝hello?❞ she calls out, but her voice is trembling, unsure. the person, now she can see it's a young man with dark tousled hair, lets out another weak groan. he lifts his head from the wet grass enough to mutter ❝help, please,❞ in a faint voice.

panic settling onto her chest, she stumbles forward, dropping to her knees beside the man. the wet grass dampens the fine fabric of her skirts, but sowon barely notices as her shoulder's suddenly grabbed at by a hand. his grip is stronger than an injured man's should be, and his wild eyes make eye contact with hers.

❝they... they're coming.❞ his voice is hoarse, but the words hit her like a hammer to the chest. she freezes in place.

❝what?❞

❝they're coming..❞ he repeats, and undiluted fear tightens sowon's throat as he continues. ❝the ball... they'll kill you. they'll kill all of you❞

her blood runs cold. his dark half-lidded gaze tries to find hers again, but his head lolls to the side as he chokes on a cough. sowon grasps his shoulder firmly, forcing him to retain his focus. ❝who? what are you talking about? who will kill me?❞

the young man gasps softly in an attempt to form another word, but his labored breathing hitches and his eyes flutter shut.

❝no..❞ sowon's heart races as she roughly shakes his shoulder, her panic reaching its peak. ❝who will kill me?❞ she demands, and his head slightly tilts back, lips parting to release a shallow breath.

❝the crown... is cursed.❞ his words are slurred, faint and barely audible. he breathes out another sigh before his head rolls to the side again. his body slackens in sowon's grip as he slips into unconsciousness.

her world tilts as she stares at the young man. the crown is cursed? kill her? who? who would want to kill her? she's nobody.

they'll kill you all.

who? her family? or could he be talking about someone else?

her hands tremble as they slip from his shoulders and he falls out of from her hold and onto the wet grass. none of this makes sense. but the blood soaking his clothes — as well as her own now — and the desperation in his voice, it's all too real.

she glances back toward the castle where the faint sound of music and laughter spills through the cracks in the door, then back at the man lying in front of her. if he's right and somebody wants to kill people, wouldn't that also encompass the rest of the ball attendants? could everyone in that grand room be in danger?

sowon's head spins. the night she's spent weeks dreaming about has taken a sudden turn she never would have expected. even if she wanted to pretend otherwise, she can't leave an injured man lying in the middle of the royal gardens, bloodied and dirty and broken.

❝you can't stay here,❞ she mutters to him as much as to herself. gripping his uninjured arm, she tries to hoist him up. he's heavier that sowon expects, and her arms buckle as she stumbles to her feet, dragging him upright. she grits her teeth at the strain of trying to support all his weight.

❝come on,❞ she says breathlessly, ❝we'll figure this out.❞

with one of his arms slung over her shoulder and her arm around his waist, she half-drags half-carries him back toward the castle gates where, fortunately, her coach still awaits.

reaching the door, she shifts his weight enough to open it and heave him inside. he groans softly as she lets him stumble into one of the seats, but he doesn't wake. his head slumps against the velvet interior as she awkwardly arranges his limbs and the rest of him in order to better fit into the seat.

slamming the door shut behind her, she announces to the driver to bring her back home. as the carriage jolts into the motion, she glances down at the stranger again. even though the light inside the carriage is not the best, it offers her better vision than the darkness of the gardens.

looking at him, she feels as if she were seeing him for the first time. a shiver runs down her spine when she takes in his fair pale skin, the high cheekbones gently curving into a smooth jawline, his high, refined nose that gives him an air of quiet sophistication and the thick lashes resting against his cheeks as his eyes remain closed. the soft curve of his pale lips seems to contrast with the angular precision of his features. together with his naturally arched brows, his face has a sharp yet balanced structure that seems effortlessly regal.

blood smudges her fingers where she's touched him, and the faint iron smell of it fills the small space. sowon's heart is still racing and her thoughts are tangled in fear and confusion. the ball, the glittering gowns, the prince — all of that feels like a lifetime away now. she pointedly looks at her blue dress now spotted with the man's blood.

leaning back in her seat, sowon rests her trembling hands on her lap as she watches the stranger's chest rise and fall in shallow, uneven breaths.

｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡ [ おしゃれ ] .ᐟ

as hard as it is hauling the man into the attic that has been deemed as her room, sowon still finds it harder to tear her gaze off his pale face once she wipes the dirt and blood off this skin with a damp towel. even paler than he normally should be, she finds him mesmerizing.

but it's only when she discards the cloth that she sees the tear in his clothing. her hand stills, breath catching as she notices the glimmer of fresh crimson against the fabric. her fingers work quickly, undoing the buttons holding the shirt closed and peeling it back to reveal the long gash beneath.

a sword wound. deep, vicious, and spanning all the way from his right shoulder to the top of the right side of his ribs. she presses a hand over her mouth, swallowing down the gasp that has worked its way up her throat. what kind of life does this man live, and what has he done to earn this horrendous wound?

reaching for the towel she used to wipe his face clean, sowon soaks up the blood with trempling hands. she frantically searches her room for anything she can use to stop the bleeding, her eyes landing on her sewing kit.

it's meant for repairing old gowns, not mending people, but nevertheless, she works swiftly. once his skin is sealed, she binds the wound with scraps of clean cloth from one of her old underskirts.

she checks the man's breathing again and holds her palm against his forehead only to find no trace of a fever. her spine curls on itself from relief.

her fingers ache from effort and nerves by the time she finishes. exhausted, sowon slumps to the ground beside the bed he's resting in — a bed that's more straw and creaking wood than comfort. leaning against the frame, she stretches her legs in front of her and allows herself to take a deep breath. the adrenaline has left her light-headed.

her head falls back, her eyelids fluttering closed. she doesn't even notice drifting off before the sound of rustling jerks her awake. her eyes snap open and she angles her body to face the bed. the stranger is sitting upright, his sharp eyes piercing through the dim light of the attic. even disoriented and possibly barely conscious, he holds a commanding presence that makes the small room feel even smaller.

❝you're awake,❞ she says, her voice hoarse.

he spares her a glance before noting his open shirt and the makeshift bandage peeking from underneath. he tenderly traces his palm down his chest. ❝you—❞

❝yes,❞ she stands quickly and brushes her dirty skirts off. ❝you owe me an explanation. what happened out there? who did—❞ she vaguely gestures at his chest ❝that? and...❞ her voice lowers as unease creeps back into her chest. ❝why did you say someone wants to kill me?❞

the man stares at her for a long moment, his expression unreadable. the weight of his silence presses down on them almost unbearably.

❝because... it's true.❞ he says simply, his voice steady despite the gravity of the situation.

❝what do you mean?❞

he tilts his head, studying her with an intensity that makes her feel both exposed and scrutinized. it reminds her of the sharp gaze of her step-mother and sowon shifts her weight on her heels.

❝do you know who i am?❞

she shakes her head. ❝should i?❞

❝i'm the prince.❞

the room seems to sway for a moment before sowon lets out a hollow, incredulous laugh. ❝no, you're not.❞

but he doesn't flinch. doesn't laugh. his gaze remains locked on hers, unwavering. sowon's laugh dies down.

❝i am.❞ he says firmly. ❝and that's why you're in danger. anyone could have seen you helping me. if they find you, you'll die. they'll make sure of it.❞

her breath hitches. ❝who? why would they want me dead? i'm.. i'm just a servant.❞

the prince — if that's truly who he is — leans forward, his expression darkening as shadows carve hollows into his face. ❝because i was already supposed to be dead when you found me. i was dying, and you saved me.❞ he brushes an invisible speck of dust off his shoulder. ❝for which i'm grateful, of course.❞

sowon's head spins. she stares at the prince, studying him and how he hisses when the stitches tug at his skin as he tries to get out of her bed.

❝where are we?❞ he asks, looking around.

❝this is my room.❞ sowon says, her cheeks heating. the prince must find it messy and suffocating, but it's all she's got. expecting a biting remark, she's surprised at the noncommittal hum that leaves his lips.

❝you sew...?❞ he poses it as a question, even when the answer is painstakingly obvious and surrounding him. threads, needles, fabrics and half-finished dresses are strewn all over the room.

ignoring his inquiry for obvious reasons, she forms a question of her own. ❝so... what happened before i found you?❞ his sharp eyes move to rest on her, and she awkwardly adds your highness as an afterthought.

at first, it looks like he might withhold the information. he sighs and runs his hand over his face, maybe asking himself the same. in the end, his voice is softer than it was before when he speaks. ❝i was ambushed. i was going to the ball, but i was attacked by a group of men.❞

he halts, and sowon's brows furrow. a group of random men attacking a prince? it seems highely unlikely to sowon, considering how any act against the crown gets punished by death or prison sentence.

❝a few of them looked like mercenaries, soldiers.❞ he continues with a haunted look in his eyes, possibly reliving the memory. ❝and one of them was the prince of the eirodon kingdom.❞

sowon’s breath catches in her throat. ❝the prince of the neighboring kingdom?❞ she whispers, disbelief threading through her words. ❝why… why would he attack you?❞

the prince exhales loudly, his jaw tightening. his gaze flickers toward the floor. ❝because he wants what i have. or rather, he doesn't want me to have it.❞ he says, bitterness seeping into his tone.

sowon swallows hard, her fingers brushing against the soft fabric of her skirts. ❝but... he's a prince. a king-in-waiting, just like you. why would he—❞

❝because it's not just about the throne,❞ he cuts her off, voice low and edged with frustration. his eyes meet hers again, and the flicker of vulnerability makes her eager to hear his next words. ❝it's all about power. my father refused to join forces with them years ago. he refused to give in to their demands, and eirodon's now making us pay. if they can't control us, they'll make us disappear. one less kingdom to guard your back from. and with my father ill...❞ the royal line would end with him. sowon stares at the prince, the pieces of his story clicking into place. it's not just about the ball, nor the throne — the survival of the kingdom itself is at stake. and the prince is the linchpin holding it all together.

she hesitates before speaking. ❝so... he wants to kill you so the kingdom collapses?❞

a humorless laugh escapes him. ❝something like that. or he wants to replace me.❞

❝replace you?❞

leaning back slightly, the prince's gaze darkens. ❝magic,❞ he says simply, the word carrying the weight of something dangerous. ❝he used magic. that's why i didn't see it coming. the ambush, it wasn't just swords and fists — there was also something else.❞ he says, hand lifting to gesture vaguely at the space around them.

sowon's lips part in shock as a realization hits her. ❝but then... the ball. who's at the ball right now?❞

❝i am.❞

her eyebrows knit together in confusion, but his words fly through her mind again. the limits of magic are next to unreachable. there's almost no way of knowing where it ends.

❝you don't mean...❞

❝the prince everyone at the ball is calling me is an impostor. he looks like me, speaks like me. but he's not me. he's the crown prince of eirodon.❞

sowon's heart races as the enormity of his words sinks in. ❝but how — is that even possible?❞

❝yes,❞ he confirms grimly. ❝with dark magic. it's forbidden, and more often than not requires a huge sacrifice, but that doesn't stop people from using it.❞

the very idea of dark magic — the kind whispered about in hushed tones — makes sowon's skin crawl. it feels like something out of a nightmare. but now, it's not just a bad dream. it's real.

❝so... what are you going to do? how can you stop him?❞

his head falls in his hands, and for the first time since he woke up, sowon sees cracks appear in his princely façade. ❝i don't know yet.❞ he admits, his voice barely above a whisper.

just as the words leave his mouth, the sound of a distant bell echoes through the room. the clock strikes midnight, the thuds sharp and commanding. one. two. three. each chime reverberates through the tiny room.

before sowon can react, a shimmering light dances across her vision. her breath catches as the fabric of her gown begins to ripple and face, the soft glow that has once enveloped her dissolving into thin air. the ethereal gown has been wearing vanishes, leaving her in a simple pink dress of her own making — one she spent weeks sewing and originally planned to wear to the ball.

her glass slippers crumble to sparkling dust, the unraveling of magic leaving her barefoot.

the sudden transformation steals her words, leaving her frozen in place as the final toll of the clock echoes and fades into silence. the room feels different now, heavier as though the magic brightening it has fled.

heeseung's head cocks to the side, his wide eyes taking in her form now standing across the room in a completely different dress than she did a few moments ago.

❝what just happened?❞ he asks, his tone a mix of confusion and alarm. his whole body has gone rigid.

sowon's cheeks flush as she stares down at her plain dress. ❝i—i don't know,❞ she stammers. ❝it's midnight... the magic must have worn off.❞

❝magic? what magic?❞

her gaze flits nervously to him, unsure whether to trust him with the truth. but there's no hiding it now, and he trusted her with his truth, too. ❝my dress,❞ she begins, ❝and the slippers. they were a gift... from a fairy godmother.❞

the prince's eyes narrow, his mind clearly reeling. ❝a fairy godmother?❞ he repeats, incredulous. ❝she gave you a dress and glass slippers? with magic?❞

❝yes.❞ she says, nodding hesitantly. ❝she appeared out of nowhere, just before the ball. she told me she'd help me...❞

his gaze lingers on her, calculating, as if piecing together a puzzle. then, he lets out a humourless laugh, rubbing a hand over his face. he moves to stand, but his wound keeps him pinned to the mattress. ❝of course,❞ he mutters under his breath. ❝it's always magic. magic works on anything. even on itself.❞

❝what do you mean?❞

he looks back at her, his expression sharpening with resolve. ❝your fairy godmother,❞ he starts slowly, testing the words. making a plan on the spot. ❝she's powerful enough to do this—❞ he gestures at her—❝which means she might be powerful enough to undo what my impostor did.❞

her breath catches as the implication sinks in. ❝you want me to ask her for help?❞

❝yes,❞ he agrees firmly. ❝if she can create gowns and glass slippers with magic, then maybe she can help us stop him. she might know how to break the spell he used.❞

sowon bites her lip, hesitating. ❝but i don't know how to find her,❞ she admits, her voice tinged with worry. ❝she just... appeared. and then disappeared right after.❞

❝then we'll figure out how to bring her back,❞ the prince says with determination. ❝you said she helped you when you needed her to. maybe she'll come back if you need her again.❞

sowon's mind swirls with doubt, but when she looks at him, she notices in his eyes what wasn't there before — a spark of hope. he truly believes there might be a chance, no matter how slim, that they've just found another ally.

she takes a deep breath, nodding. ❝alright, i'll try.❞

｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡ [ おしゃれ ] .ᐟ

❝she came when i needed her... but maybe if i just call her, she'll hear me and come again.❞ sowon suggests, anxiously biting at her fingernail.

the prince folds his arms, skepticism etched in his features. ❝you think that'll work?❞

❝do you have a better idea, your highness?❞ sowon scowls at him, throwing his status right in his face.

❝fine. go ahead.❞ he grumbles and gestures forward.

sowon steps out further into the garden, leaving the prince a few paces behind her. she breathes in the night air and feels the cool breeze on her skin. she suggested they try their luck out here, since the garden is where the fairy godmother appeared to her the first time a few hours ago. and sowon now desperately hopes she'll appear again.

❝fairy godmother?❞ she calls out, her voice hesitant. clearing her throat, she wills herself to sound more stable.❝can you hear me? i need your help!❞

she listens to the sounds of the garden, straining her ears for any sign of the magical fairy. the rustle of her dress, or the sound of her soft heels sinking into the grass. but there's only silence. nothing happens.

she looks back at the prince, catching his gaze. he looks doubtful, as if trying to hide his frustration. ❝maybe she's not real after all.❞ he mutters.

sowon's frown only deepens. ❝she's real.❞ she says sharply, ❝i know what i saw, and you saw it too.❞ she gestures at herself, hinting at the transformation of her dress.

the prince sighs wearily, and sowon sees the weight on his shoulders slump a little harder upon him. ❝maybe we should try offering her something?❞

❝like what?❞

❝i don't know... mybe a scrap of your dress?❞ her head drops at his words, looking down at herself. her heart starts aching at the thought of ruining not only what she's worked so hard on for the past weeks, but also the last tangible memory she has of her mother. her fingers tangle in the fabric, gripping it and feeling its texture smooth over her knuckles.

she lifts her gaze to find the prince already looking at her, gauging her reaction. his eyes are tired, and his hand is pressed to the wound on his chest, his form slightly slumped. he's desperate.

taking a deep breath in through her nose, sowon nods her head once. ❝okay,❞ it pains her to say it, but she already promised the prince she would help him. she couldn't back off now, not even from ruining the only thing that has ever really belonged to her.

❝wait.❞ the prince's voice comes as she's already fisting the hem of her dress, preparing to tear it off. she lifts her eyes to watch him again, one brow etched in confusion. ❝tell me about the first time she appeared again.❞

his features have become gentle, and he's taken a step toward her, now standing only about two meters away. the prince's eyes convey what he possibly didn't dare say as he watches her fingers curled in her dress, and sowon knows that he understands. maybe he saw it in her face or in her trembling fingers, but he knows that she doesn't want to damage the garment. and even though he may not understand why, he understands that she doesn't want to.

sowon slowly unclenches the fabric, her heart warming. she offers the prince a faint smile, but he breaks her gaze almost instantly, turning his face to the side and clearing his throat.

❝well, she came to me when i was alone, here in the garden. it was before the ball, and i was anxious. don't get me wrong, i was excited to go to the ball and possibly see the prince — see you, but i was also scared. afraid my stepmother and her daughters would recognize me...❞ she trails off, composing herself. she won't talk about them tonight, too. ❝anyways, i was about to leave after giving myself some words of confidence when she appeared. i don't know when or how, i just know that she wasn't there before and then she was, a second later.❞

the prince listens to every word, subtly nodding as they spill out of her mouth. his eyes trail over her face, tracing the shadow of crimson on her cheeks in the dim light of the moon.

❝what if she doesn't come this time?❞ sowon says quietly, her eyes falling to the grass beneath their feet. she sees the prince's shoes shuffle closer to hers.

❝she'll come.❞ he says after a pause. sowon notices the certaintly in his voice and gives him a questioning look. he hesitates for a moment, but then continues, ❝she came because you needed her. and now we need her more than ever. if she truly is real, she'll come. i know she will.❞

she watches hope dance in his dark eyes, color rising to her cheeks. her eyelashes flutter and her lips part at his determination.

just as sowon starts fumbling for a reply, a soft, glowing light begins to emanate from the night air to her left. they both freeze as it grows brighter and the familiar figure of the fairy godmother materializes before them, cloaked in shimmering silver.

❝my dear, summoning me so late at night?❞ her eyes row over sowon before catching on the prince standing next to her, standing unmoving and speechless. ❝and with a prince in tow, no less.❞

sowon's face lights up, a grin forming on her lips. ❝you came!❞ she exclaims, relief filling her voice.

the godmother offers her a warm smile in return. ❝of course i came. you've always had a knack for finding yourself in the most... curious of situations.❞

❝you're real..❞ the prince stammers, finally finding his voice.

the godmother's eyes land on him again. she takes him in, waving her wand at him. ❝and you're rather quick to state the obvious, your highness.❞ she says smoothly, but it's evident from her voice that she's amused. turning to sowon again, she takes her hands in and prompts her for the reason behind the summon.

sowon explains the situation in a rush, stumbling over her words in her urgency. the prince fills in the gaps in her story with a calmer voice, taking on the part about his doppelganger and the threat he poses.

the fairy godmother listens patiently, her expression growing more serious as the story progresses.

❝he... he's pretending to be the prince.❞ sowon adds, fear evident in her voice.

❝he's using magic to make himself look like me. and he's successfully deceived everyone — my father, the court, the entire kingdom. we need to stop him before it's too late and he thinks of a way to get to the king...❞ he doesn't elaborate. and he doesn't have to; both sowon and the fairy godmother understand his grave implication. their eyes widen in unison.

the godmother nods slowly, ❝a doppelganger spell. a very powerful one. and very dangerous. but not impossible to break.❞

the prince steps forward for the first time in a while, his tone urgent, ❝can you stop him? can you undo it?❞

she appears thoughtful. ❝the illusion can be dissolved, but it won't be easy. such magic requires a tether — a source of strength that keeps it from vanishing. if we can find that tether and sever it, the illusion will fall apart.❞

❝a tether?❞ sowon repeats.

❝yes. something that connects the spell to the caster — an object, a memory, even a person. we'll need to find it and destroy it.❞

the prince exchanges a look with sowon, both of them realizing the enormity and difficulty of accomplishing such a feat. it's a sobering clarity, but neither of them can back out now.

❝but there are risks, as you can imagine. the prince of eirodon will not take kindly to being unmasked and exposed.❞

❝i don't care about the risks. we need to stop him, no matter what it takes.❞

the fairy godmother smiles a knowing smile, offering him a small nod of approval. ❝spoken like a true prince. perhaps there's still hope for you yet.❞ the prince's eyebrows draw together, but she gives no further explanation.

she works her wand, spinning it in circles and figure eights while muttering a spell under her breath. after a while, a faint thread of sparkling blue light begins unraveling from the tip of her wand, weaving through the night and out of sight. another two strands of the same light appear and spin toward sowon and the prince. the gasp simultaneously as the two threads pierce their chests like needles.

but nothing happens. sowon feels no pain nor discomfort, and neither does the prince, by the looks of it. the fairy godmother stops twirling her wand, and the threads dissolve into the air.

❝now you'll be able to find the tether more easily.❞ she announces into the quiet, and sowon and the prince both stare at her.

❝but... how?❞

❝you'll feel the spell once you get closer to it and the impostor prince. for the magic to work, the tether and the tethered cannot be far from each other.❞ sowon sees the prince nod his head with a renewed vigor. ❝you should look for it now, while the ball is still ongoing so you can use it as a distraction. summon me again once you find the tether, and i'll help you break the spell.❞

｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡ [ おしゃれ ] .ᐟ

sowon rights the hood over her head so it's not falling over her eyes. her heart pounds in her chest as she glances at the grand, imposing castle. it stands bright in the darkness of the night, looming over them like their hasty plan.

the prince stands next to her, just as quiet, watching the patrol of guards as they huddle together, share a hearty laugh, and get back to their respective positions. his hood also rests on top of his head, hiding his distinctive features. one good look at his face, and their plan is over before it can even truly begin.

sowon presses her hand against her chest to catch her breath and calm her racing heart. her thoughts speed ahead of her. what am i doing, sneaking into the castle with the prince? foolist girl.

as if reading her mind, the prince nudges her with his elbow. ❝the guards will rotate soon. that's our cue.❞ he speaks in hushed tone, his warmth seeping into her skin where their shoulders touch. unable to respond, sowon offers him a nod. ❝we'll use the servants' entrance and split up once we're inside. but until then, don't leave my side.❞

a few more minutes pass before the guards leave their posts and the prince moves forward, muttering a quiet ❝follow me.❞ dashing after him with her heart in her throat, sowon tries to distract herself by going over the plan again.

luckily, no servants are in sight once they get inside the castle, passing the entrance and heading through the kitchens. she follows after the prince, the eerily quiet halls and corridors becoming an endless maze of similar-looking and hardly distinguishable passages. but soon enough, she hears music coming from the grand ball room, and she knows they must be getting close.

they hide behind columns and curtains, narrowly avoiding guards and servants who might recognize the prince's face. when it seems like they're almost in the ball room, the prince takes a sudden turn, leaving the soft echoes of vibrant music behind them. sowon has no time to admire the paintings adorning the palace walls or the enormous chandeliers hanging from the ceiling.

he takes them up the stairs at the end of the hallway and once they reach the second floor, he stops and turns to sowon. before she can blink, he grabs her by the arm and thrusts her into a dark room, closing the door behind them. he's panting when he turns back to her, and his hair has fallen over his forehead in unruly strands.

❝this is where we split up.❞ he says, voice no louder than a whisper. as if he doesn't trust their surroundings, even with the door separating them from the rest of the castle.

❝are you sure it's a good idea? what if—❞ she starts, uncertain, but he cuts her off.

❝i'll be fine. my quarters are on this floor. start looking for the tether here; it's most likely to be somewhere around here.❞ he grabs her shoulders gently, ❝you'll feel it once you get close. trust yourself.❞

sowon swallows her nerves, nodding. she focuses on the magic inside her that alerts her to the tether's presence — and surely, its pull is stronger than it has been outside the castle. the tether must be close.

❝what are you going to do?❞

even in the dark, the prince's eyes shine with determination. ❝find the few people i can still trust. we'll corner him when the time comes.❞ he hesitates for a moment. it's obvious he wants to say something more, but the words get stuck in his throat. what he lets sowon hear in the end is gentler than she expects. ❝be careful, okay?❞

❝you, too, your highness.❞

his eyes shine with something unspoken. ❝heeseung... my name is heeseung.❞ he says quietly. sowon's eyes search his face, finding a soft look in his eyes. heeseung. ❝i'm trusting you, sowon.❞

with that, he tugs the hood further over his eyes and disappears out of the room. when sowon steps out, she sees him already descending the stairs, his steps hurried but careful, his gait bearing no sign of the injury he still sports on his chest beneath the dark cloak. the injury that could have been fatal had she not found him a few hours ago.

turning around to face the long corridor and the endless amount of rooms it leads to, sowon begins to wonder just how she'll be able to find something that can be as small as a needle. but before she can dwell too long on the thought, she feels the magic in her chest again, tugging her forward. she stumbles down the carpeted hall, the sensation strange and unsettling.

but she lets it guide her as she passes door after door, the thread becoming stronger and stronger with each step she takes.

the room she finally steps in is lavishly decorated. with its ornate furniture, a large desk, and enormous shelves of books and artifacts, it looks like a private study room. the prince's or the king's, it's hard to tell.

the air feels heavy, almost suffocating, as she looks over the room, her eyes snagging on objects that could potentially be the tether. but the pull in her chest tells her none of those are imbued with magic, so she moves further into the room in.

the first thing she notices when she steps around the desk is the huge leather chair sitting in the corner. and the giant mirror beside it. the pull of the magical thread inside her becomes almost unbearable.

this has to be it.

she approaches the mirror carefully, sidestepping the dark chair. her fingers tremble as she reaches out to touch its surface. the glass ripples like water beneath her fingertips, and a chill runs down her spine. her hood falls from her head, exposing her face.

❝fairy godmother... i need your help.❞

she materializes behind sowon in a soft glow of light, wand in hand, her expression serene but serious. immediately, her gaze lands on the mirror, its magic seeping the air out of the room.

❝well done, dear. you've found the tether.❞ she confirms, and relief washes over sowon. even though the magic led her to it with confidence, it's still reassuring to hear the certainty in her voice.

❝what do we do now?❞

❝i need to sever the tether. once that is done, the illusion will unravel. but be warned — the impostor prince will know. and he will not be happy about it.❞

briefly, sowon thinks about the prince. heeseung. will she lead danger his way once the magic is unraveled? will he be able to defend himself?

she shakes her head almost inperceptibly, her eyes full of determination. he'll have to. ❝do it.❞

without more words, the fairy godmother raises her wand, murmuring an incantation under her breath. her brows furrow in concentration and a beam of light strikes the mirror. the glass shatters, but instead of shards falling on the ground, tendrils of darkness spill out, twisting and writhing in the air. the dark magic. it weaves around the room, tugging books down from the shelves and ruffling the papers on the desk before dissipating into nothingness. the air in the room instantly feels lighter, fresher.

a shockwave ripples through the castle as the spell breaks and the impostor is — hopefully — laid bare at last.

❝you've done well, sowon. now go — see this through the end.❞ the fairy godmother gives her a final, reassuring smile before she vanishes into thin air, taking the faint glow with her. the room darkens with her disappearance.

sowon's heart races as she stumbles into the corridor again. the illusion has only been unmasked a few moments ago, but the castle is already alive with action — she hears distant shouts and hurried footsteps as her feet carry her toward the balcony overlooking the ball room.

the crowd of young ladies in breathtaking dresses, their mothers and fathers, royal guards and court's representatives has gathered around a few figures standing in the middle of the room. at the center, prince heeseung stands tall, his hood down, flanked by a small group of what must be his loyal allies. he points a sword, the tip of the blade pressed against the impostor prince's throat.

with the illusion completely gone, the prince of the eirodon kingdom looks nothing like heeseung — his clothes are the same, but his hair is blond, and his face is twisted in a grimace of cold cruelty. he holds his shoulders high, even now.

sowon hears gasps and murmurs echo through the crowd as they stare and point at who they thought was their crown prince. the king stands up from his throne at the dais, his features arranged into an expression of angered disbelief.

❝it's over. your lies, they end here.❞ heeseung's words carry through the room, loud and clear. ❝you should've made sure i was dead before you left me in the gardens.❞

more gasps and wails fill the ball room and sowon pushes away from the railing, flying down the stairs. the guards at last seize the prince and his loyal mercenaries as she enters the room. they fight and struggle, but they're eventually dragged away in what she supposes is the direction of the prison cells.

heeseung lowers the sword, the tip of the blade now touching the floor. he lets his gaze sweep across the room and once his eyes find sowon, his expression softens. he strides toward her, a smile fixing its way on his lips.❝you did it.❞

she shakes her head. ❝no. we did it.❞ his smile widens, and for a moment, he looks like he wants to embrace her. he doesn't.

instead, he turns to address the room. ❝the impostor has been defeated, but i wouldn't have been able to do so without the help of this woman. the kingdom owes her a debt of gratitude.❞

the crows murmurs in agreement, and sowon flushes under the attention. she wants to tug her hood back over her head, but her fingers are frozen by her sides.

the prince turns back to her, his expression unreadable at first. then a small, teasing smile tugs at his lips.

❝and, as you requested father,❞ he addresses the king, but his eyes never leave hers. so he sees them widen in shock as soon as his next words register. ❝i've finally found a bride.❞

｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡ [ おしゃれ ] .ᐟ

[hwangspages]

──˖.✦ THE ℱINAL 𝐼LLUSION ˒˒ 이희승

❝ ɪɴ ᴡʜɪcʜ 𓈓 reality bends, and illusions come alive.

heeseung, the master illusionist, weaves a world of wonder so vivid it blurs the line between dream and truth — but every spell demands a sacrifice.

the carnival thrives on emotions, feeding on the souls of its performers and audience, but its cost runs deeper than anyone dares to admit.

as heeseung's hollow obsession with the one thing he cannot control spirals into madness, the illusions begin to fracture and chaos rises. the master faces an impossible choice — preserve the wonder he's built, or destroy it together with every last piece of himself. when the curtain falls, who will remain standing?

ᴘ ‎⸝⸝⸝ 엔하이픈 illusionist! lee heeseung x choi sowon ɢ ‎⸝⸝⸝ fantasy, romance 𓂃⊹` ⋮ dark themes, mental health struggles, unhealthy relationships, emotional abuse / coercion, manipulation, obsession, magic ── .✦ ( 𝓂. list ) 𓂃✷⋆⸜ [ 7.7K ] ⋆˚࿔╰› 𝓅laylist ⸝⸝

■■□□□□□□ 25% complete

THE ℒAST 𝒞URTAIN ──˖.✦ ( prologue ) 𓂃✷⋆⸜ [ 0.3K ]

A 𝒲ORLD OF 𝒟REAMS ──˖.✦ ( chapter one ) 𓂃✷⋆⸜ [ 7.4K ]

THE 𝒜LLURE OF 𝒮HADOWS ──˖.✦ ( chapter two ) 𓂃✷⋆⸜ [ coming soon . . . .ᐟ ]

── .⋆ ˙⟡ back to 𝓂asterlist

all the dates, places, events and characters ( except the enhypen members ) are fictional. the idols' behaviors and their portrayal in the story do not reflect their actual personality. their actions and personalities are adjusted in order to fit the narrative of the story. take into account that none of this is real or is supposed to reflect reality.

@ hwangspages : all rights reserved. do not repost, translate or remake. my works are in no way an accurate representation of the idols and should not be taken as such.

[hwangspages]

THE ℒAST 𝒞URTAIN ˒˒ 이희승 [ ──˖.✦ the final illusion, prologue ]

❝ ɪɴ ᴡʜɪcʜ 𓈓 love becomes the greatest illusion of all.

ᴘ ‎⸝⸝⸝ 엔하이픈 illusionist! lee heeseung x choi sowon ɢ ‎⸝⸝⸝ fantasy ── .✦ ( 𝓂. list ) 𓂃✷⋆⸜ [ 0.3K ] ⋆˚࿔╰› 𝓅laylist ⸝⸝

｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡ [ おしゃれ ] .ᐟ

1846, MOKCHEON [ 목천 ].

❝NO ONE WAS LEFT TO WATCH, BUT HE PERFORMED ANYWAY.

the flames danced higher, devouring the carnival's once-grand illusion, the crackling of the fire a cruel mockery of the applause heeseung had once craved. at the edge of the mistveil forest lay the ruins of his dream — a dream built on the sacrifices of his happiness, his joy, and his sorrows. now he stood amidst the chaos of his own making, a man chasing a second dream. but he wasn't a man anymore. just a hollow, unfeeling husk of him.

a laugh tore from his throat, sharp and sudden, bubbling with adrenaline. the shadows of the forest trembled at his back. tears fell like insignificant drops of saltwater onto the devastated and broken vision of all he'd ever cared about. he laughed and laughed, the tears blurring the inferno that consumed everything he had worked so hard for.

at crunching footsteps he looked up. his madman's fit halted. his smile froze, but the tears only quickened, carving hot trails down his cheeks. through blurred vision, he couldn't see her face. he was grateful for it.

she stood a dozen meters away, unreachable and untouched. still, he reached his hand out, grasping at the emptiness, desperate for something solid, something real.

❝i did it for you.❞ he whispered, his voice trembling as he gulped down his tears. then, as if he could no longer hold himself upright, his legs buckled and he collapsed onto his knees, the wreckage searing against him. the heat of the flames licked at his spine, and the putrid stench of smoke filled his lungs. another wave of tears spilled as he coughed.

his voice, faint as a dying amber, was swallowed by the night wind.

❝i did it all for you.❞

｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡ [ おしゃれ ] .ᐟ

[hwangspages]

hi and 𝓌elcome .ᐟ

thank you for taking an interest in my blog and my works and wanting to know more about me and the aforementioned!

── ୭ ˚.⟡ about me .ᐟ

my name is sora, i'm 21 years old, and i'm slowly gaining confidence to actually publish the stories that i write.

english is not my first language, so i'm apologizing now if you come or have come across any mistake in one or more of my works ( you can definitely shoot me a message to correct it! ). i also speak spanish, so all you need to do is request if you'd like to re-read a favorite work of yours translated into this language as well!

i mainly stan stray kids, aespa, txt, enhypen and boy next door, and am a little more than a casual listener of g-idle, katseye and meovv.

i don't take writing requests at the moment, and i write only for idols listed in my masterlist ( which are, as of now, hyunjin, heeseung, jungwon, beomgyu, jaehyun and taesan ). even though i'm also a girl-group stan, i'm not comfortable with writing for them, since i'm straight ( hope you understand! ).

i will also not write smut in any near future. while i'm okay with writing it, i'm still not comfortable with others reading it. i hope you understand.

── .⋆ ˙⟡ about my writing style .ᐟ

my stories are written in what i like to call a 'book format'. even though they're fanfictions about idols, i still like to treat the main characters as any other book author would and give them a specific love interest. that's why you see each idol with a different love interest that reoccurs in each of the their work respectivelly ( hyunjin and arya, heeseung and sowon, beomgyu and harin etc. ). this way, it feels more tangible to me and it's easier to write the stories if i pair them with someone instead of 'you', the notion of a reader.

the majority of my works are written in third pov, meaning i use he, she they instead of i, you, we, as pronouns. i'm more comfortable with writing my stories that way; it feels like giving my characters enough space of their own and not getting too into their head ( if that even makes sense ㅋㅋ ).

this is something not a lot of writers on this site do, as far as i'm aware of, and i'm understand some might find it intriguing while others not so much. if my style is something you don't enjoy or find bothersome, please, i request you to kindly scroll away without leaving any comments.

lastly, i would like to thank you for supporting me in my writing journey. i am truly grateful for each like, comment, or follow.

if you're interested in my other works, you can visit my masterlist and find one that suits your taste! you can also look forward to more exciting stories and series that are coming soon!

@ hwangspages : all rights reserved. do not repost, translate or remake. my works are in no way an accurate representation of the idols and should not be taken as such.

[hwangspages]

HIS SILENCE AGAINST HIS SHARP EDGES ˒˒ 황현진

❝ɪɴ ᴡʜɪcʜ 𓈓 hyunjin's life of a college student moonlighting as a dealer is nothing but sharp edges – fast deals, blurred lines of righteousness and danger around every corner. he has never much questioned the decisions that have defined him, but when his friend's quiet and soft-spoken sister comes seeking what he offers, everything changes. drawn to her calm presence yet desperate to keep her away from his world, hyunjin's life presents him with a choice. in silent understanding and stolen glances, their connection grows – but can someone like him ever offer her anything more than heartbreak and a joint to lessen the pain?

‎ᴘ ⸝⸝⸝ 스트레이 키즈 drug dealer! hwang hyunjin × arya raven ɢ ‎⸝⸝⸝ neutral, angst 𓂃⊹` ⋮ dark and mentally difficult themes ( insecurity, depression, anxiety, feeling like not being enough etc. ), drugs, mention of drug consumption, smoking, language, hyunjin is lovesick, mutual pining, feat. han jisung ( who is a menace, especially to hyunjin, i apologize ) ── .✦ ( 𝓂. list ) 𓂃✷⋆⸜ [ 16.3K ] ⋆˚࿔╰› 𝓅laylist ⸝⸝

｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡ [ おしゃれ ] .ᐟ

❝THE USUAL TONIGHT @ 10?

hyunjin stares at the message, his phone hot in his hand. he blinks at the blaring light of the screen before typing up a quick reply consisting of sure. he sighs, throwing the phone on the couch among the mess encompassing crumpled hoodies, packets of weed and joints, and a bunch of papers with his scribbles in various stages of preservation and finalization, which has all accumulated there in the past week. he grabs the hoodie haphazardly lying on the backrest of the small sofa and throws it over his head.

one look at the clock ticking on the far wall tells him he still has a few minutes to spare, so hyunjin rolls one joint for himself. just to put his mind at ease, he tells himself. holding the rolled paper between his lips, he lights the end and breathes in, dragging the piney smoke into his lungs. he closes his eyes and rests his head against the front of the couch from where he's tumbled on the floor.

behind his closed eyelids, he sees the remnants of a small smile, which is then quickly replaced by hands running through silky dark waves. swearing under his breath, he quickly finishes his smoke and gets up, brushing off his jeans and banishing the visions and the sound of her voice from his head.

picking up one pack of weed and one pack of already rolled joints, he stuffs them both into the big pocket of his hoodie and, tucking his phone into his jeans back pocket, heads out.

｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡ [ おしゃれ ] .ᐟ

firing a message to jisung to let him know he's at his front door, hyunjin lets out a breath and tries to act as normal as is possible for a college student. with his hands in his pockets, the hood over his shaved head and his body rocking on the balls of his feet in the cold night air, he hardly looks like someone out of the ordinary in this neighborhood.

after a few moments, hyunjin checks his phone for a response. he furrows his eyebrows when there's none. pocketing his phone again, he muses whether he should knock or wait a few moments longer. just when he made his decision and lifted his hand against the wood, the door swings open. hyunjin's breath whooshes out of him and he freezes on the spot. his friend's sister stands in front of him in nothing but an oversized graphic t-shirt and thin shorts, her hair perfectly tousled over her shoulders in lazy waves.

❝hi.❞ arya's voice is raspy, as if she has just woken up from a nap. hyunjin blinks and, her hair has grown longer since the last time he saw her. for a single moment, he wonders if there is someone that ran their hands through the waves while she took that nap. shaking those thoughts out of his mind, he clears his throat. ❝your—your brother called me over...❞

hyunjin feels his cheeks heat, and suddenly he's glad for the darkness and the cold temperature of the autumn night. a delicious shiver runs down his spine when arya softly pulls at her bottom lip with her teeth.

❝i know,❞ she starts, jutting her chin out, ❝he asked me to get it for him.❞

involuntarily, hyunjin huffs out a laugh. jisung would never let his little sister get weed for him. hell, he would never have told her he was smoking weed if arya had not walked in on them sitting in the midst of their smoke and sporting joints in their mouths. those months ago and with his mind delightfully numb from the drug, that was the first time hyunjin met his friend's sister ( something jisung has been adamant about not happening because of the.. nature of hyunjin's business ) and even through the haze, he saw her as clearly as if she were an angel standing in front of him. even now he remembers the dark oversized t-shirt and light grey washed jeans she wore and how wildly his heart was beating against his ribcage.

with a smile playing on his lips, hyunjin's voice is a little shaky when he replies: ❝no, he didn't.❞

arya takes a sharp breath, her nostrils flaring and bottom lip deliciously jutting out. she raises her eyebrows at him. ❝how would you know?❞

❝i know because, if everything went according to your brother's plan, the two of us would never have even met.❞ as much as it pains hyunjin to say it, it is the truth.

arya sighs and lightly, almost inperceptibly, slumps against the door in defeat. her hand curls around the bottom hem of her shorts and hyunjin suddenly has the urge to take off his hoodie and cover her bare legs with it. he resists the impulse.

❝fine,❞ she states, crossing her arms over her chest, ❝he didn't.❞

hyunjin cocks his head to the side, his hood slipping from over his forehead and uncovering a patch of his shaved head. arya's eyes travel to it before settling back on his eyes and he can't help but feel bare under her gaze.

a bang suddenly echoes from the house, followed by what hyunjin recognizes as jisung's voice: ❝arya? who are you talking to?❞

❝shit.❞ hyunjin has a second to watch her velvety hair moving as she whips her head toward the dimly-lit staircase behind her before she shuts the door in his face. he stands there for a second, rooted in plae. reeling from what happened and trying... and failing to navigate his heart from his stomach back to where it belongs.

he wonders if she'll open the door again and if she'll grant him another glimpse of her lustrous eyes or rosy cheeks. could she have texted his from her brother's phone? if so, why? does she want to see him? why?

hyunjin's heart gallops in his chest. he swipes his sweaty palms down the front of his jeans and settles on the porch, turning his back toward the door. the packs in his pocket rustle with the movement, and hyunjin becomes hyperaware of the situation. he pulls the hood further over his eyes.

suddenly, the door opens again, but hyunjin refuses to turn around and come face to face with a furious jisung. instinctivelly, he hides further into the comfort of his hoodie.

the pair of bare legs that come into view in his periphery, however, do not belong to jisung. arya plops down next to him, far closer than hyunjin's heart finds acceptable. hardly calmed, it once again begins pounding against his ribcage in a wild rhythm. this close, he catches the vanilla scent of her fragrance and his mind spins with it.

❝do you have it?❞ she speaks after a few moments of silence without looking at him. and suddenly, hyunjin understands. his throat closes when his delirious fantasy that maybe, just maybe, she wanted to see him, is replaced by the eye-opening realization.

he looks at her then, and her profile briefly catches him off-guard before he gets his bearings. ❝i—absolutely not.❞

❝what? why?❞ she turns to look him in the eye, momentarily stunning him. if it was anything else she would be asking of him, he would be incapable of saying no to her. he shifts, slightly turning his body in her direction and taking a deep breath despite her caramel eyes studying him.

❝i'm not selling weed to you, arya.❞

❝why not?❞ she asks again, her eyes searching his face, ❝it's what you do.❞

hyunjin curses under his breath. of course that's what he does.

a gust of wind ruffles her hair and he sees goosebumps raise on her bare arms. he doesn't dare look at her legs and again disregards his urge to wrap her in a warm blanket. ❝yes, but—❞

❝i'll pay you.❞

❝it's not about that.❞

❝hyunjin, please..❞ his stomach flips at the syllables in the form of his name coming out of her mouth.

shit.

the way she says his name.

hyunjin has only ever heard her say his name thrice, but he would give anything to hear her say it again and again until he's sick of it.

he runs his hand under the hood on his head out of habit. and curses internally when he remembers he chopped all his hair off and no longer needs to push it back from his face. he drops the hand on his knee and drags his gaze back to her. he finds her already looking at him with something dangerous that resembles desperation glittering in her eyes.

❝why?❞ it's her turn to look away. she drops her head and fiddles with her fingers in her lap. her hair falls off her shoulder and obscures hyunjin's view of her face. as much as he adores her shiny waves, in this moment he would much rather toss them to the side.

❝i—❞ she starts, but shakes her head, ❝it's complicated.❞

he waits for her to say more, but she doesn't. ❝whatever it is, arya, i'm sure it can be solved without... well, my assistance.❞

❝you don't understand.❞ she says quietly. so quietly hyunjin almost doesn't hear her. but the wind diligently carries her soft voice to his ear, as if it knew how much he cherishes the sound.

no. he doesn't understand because he doesn't know. what she's experiencing is happening in an area of her life he's not privy to.

but in his own way, he does understand. the desperation to escape from it, the choices it pushes one to make. he understands that, and he wishes he didn't.

they sit on the cold porch for a few moments without either of them saying anything. the cool night fills the silence with leaves rustling and crickets chirping. arya turns back to him when another burst of cold wind rattles her bones. he's sure she's barely keeping her teeth from chattering now.

❝so you won't sell me anything?❞

❝no.❞ his voice projects the confidence he doesn't feel.

she just her chin defiantly again, and hyunjin has a second to worry what she'll say next before it's out of her mouth, ❝i'll buy it from someone else then. bet they'll be more forthcoming.❞

his eyes widen, but he sees it in her stare, the determination. she won't back off.

❝shit.❞ he curses, knowing very well other dealers would trip over themselves to sell her anything, especially when she shows up to the deal looking like this. and damn him if he ever let that happen. he may not be the nicest person, but he refuses to let her wander into such dark corners of the city looking to light a joint.

❝shit, arya.❞ he curses again. at her, at himself. at the situation. shaking his head, hyunjin pulls out the pack with ten rolled joints from his pocket. arya's lips part slightly when she realizes she's got him cornered, and she rushes to take her money out of her shorts. fighting another shiver, she thrusts it at him with shaking fingers and stares at him expectantly. her eyes follow his hand when he tucks the cash into his pocket, maybe expecting him to count it first. he doesn't.

❝you have to promise me first,❞ she nods, locking her eyes on his. hyunjin stumbles over his thoughts for a moment, ❝that after i give you this, you won't search for anyone else.❞

❝i promise.❞ she agrees without a moment's hesitation. still unsure of his decision, hyunjin hands her the pack. her fingers brush against his when she gingerly takes it into her hands, and hyunjin feels electricity zap through his veins. he takes the time in which arya stuffs the pack into her shorts to collect himself.

he shoves his hands into his hoodie pocket and clears his throat, ❝if your brother finds out about this, he'll strangle me.❞

❝i won't tell him, i swear.❞ when she looks at him again, now with a small smile tugging at her lips, he sees her nose and cheeks are pink from the cold. his fingers twitch in his hoodie, so he occupies them by clutching the other pack he still has stuffed inside. ❝thank you, hyunjin.❞ she says his name in that soft voice of hers again, and hyunjin's heart skips a beat again.

smiling, she stands up from the porch and rushes back inside, leaving hyunjin at war with himself, pondering whether he has made a good decision. anyhow, it would irrevocably destroy the friendship with jisung were he to find out what he just did. but he reassures himself again, maybe uselessly, that arya would be in a much greater danger has he not given in to her request.

he looks behind his back and only now notices the ridiculous reindeer slippers she wore, tucked to the side of the small welcome! mat in front of the threshold.

｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡ [ おしゃれ ] .ᐟ

the skatepark slowly quietens as the night approaches. more and more skaters head toward the warmth of their homes, leaving the area almost deserted. hyunjin sits at the edge of the ramp, sketchbook in one hand, pencil in the other, and hums a tone to himself. a lit cigarette rests next to him, barely smoked.

he focuses on the stokes he makes on paper, each one deliberate yet somehow coming together to form a messy portrait. the third one of the day as hyunjin desperately tries to materialize his thoughts that always seem to revolve around the same person in these past few days. and they're always accompanied by a pang of guilt, which he does his hardest to ignore.

as if in trance, he perfectly shapes the long wild waves around the caramel eyes that seem to follow him every time he closes his eyes. he knows he will never be able to accurately replicate the arcane look in them, but he tries to, if only to calm his churning mind.

❝i didn't think i'd find you here.❞ her voice tugs him out of focus. for a moment, hyunjin thinks he might have imagined it, but then he looks up and there she stands in front of him, wearing a loose-fitting leather jacket over another oversized t-shirt with black ripped jeans. stupidly, he blinks at the vision. but she doesn't disappear like visions do.

he doesn't say anything, too taken-aback to formulate a response, and arya adds, ❝thought you'd be somewhere.. darker.❞

she watches him quietly clear his throat. ❝somewhere darker? what, like a drug den?❞

❝not what i meant..❞ she subtly shakes her head and hyunjin's insides warm when he sees the ghost of a smile tugging at her mouth. tentatively, she sits down next to him on the ramp, keeping enough distance between them. as if she knew what her presence does to his poor heart. ❝you just... don't seem like a skatepark type of guy.❞

❝guess not every dealer likes hanging out at dens.❞ he chuckles and arya places her hands in her lap. quiet falls on them like a blanket when she doesn't respond.

❝what are you doing out this late, anyway?❞

instead of replying, she rummages in the pocket of her jacket. after what feels like minutes, she finally pulls out a familiar-looking pack. gingerly, she places it on the ramp between them, right next to hyunjin's unfinished cigarette. ❝returning something i don't need.❞

hyunjin stares at the pack, dumbfounded. doing a quick count, he confirms for himself that all ten joints sit untouched in the plastic bag. when he looks up, he finds her already looking at him.

❝you didn't...❞

❝no, i didn't.❞

for a moment, he's unable to find words. he breathes out a sigh. the relief that takes over all his senses feels overwhelming, but he refuses to show it. instead, he thinks back to what she said and slightly furrows his brows. ❝why buy it, then?❞

❝impulse. stupidity. desperation. i don't know.❞ arya shrugs and averts her gaze, ❝guess i wanted to feel something.❞

hyunjin ponders her response for a good while before he settles on a quiet, ❝yeah. i get that, i guess.❞

❝do you?❞ she turns to him again, her eyes burning into his like molten copper. ❝is that why you sell it?❞

❝i sell it because it's easy. because it pays the bills and college, and because...❞ hyunjin trails off, fumbling with his words. with whether to say them or not. he takes a moment to think if it's a good idea to say them before he actually says them, ❝because sometimes it feels like the only thing i'm good at.❞

arya tilts her head, studying him. the quiet is deafening to hyunjin's ears before she breaks it with a simple: ❝that's bullshit.❞

❝is it?❞ he snorts, but it's absent of humor.

she notably gestures at the sketchbook still resting opened on his thighs. ❝to me, it doesn't seem like that's the only thing you're good at.❞

he glances down at the half-finished sketch, suddenly self-conscious and wishing he would have just closed the damned notebook right at the start of their conversation instead of admiring her overall complexion. could she recognize her own face staring at her from the page? if so, arya doesn't comment on it and hyunjin decides to carry on as smoothly as possible.

❝drawing's just... something i do. it doesn't mean anything. it's not...❞ he trails off, playing with the rings on his fingers.

❝it means something if it's yours.❞ arya mutters as she leans closer to see the sketch. hyunjin panics. partially because she'll think him a creep if she recognizes herself in the sketch, which is very possible with how intently she's staring at it, and partially because of their sudden proximity that lets him know she's wearing the same vanilla perfume she was wearing that night a few days ago.

taking a deep breath that only drags her alluring scent further down his throat, hyunjin focuses back on the conversation. ❝it doesn't pay the bills, though.❞arya looks like she wants to say something, but he continues, suddenly desperate to get those words out. ❝sometimes i wonder what the hell i'm even doing. like... how i got here. and why. i had so many chances to be normal and i screwed every single one of them.❞

❝normal's overrated.❞ she replies after a beat.

hyunjin scoffs, ❝says who?❞

❝me. you don't have to be normal to be worth something. or to be enough.❞ arya says, and her eyes hold an emotion hyunjin feels too cowardly to decipher.

❝you think i'm enough?❞ without hesitation, she nods, her silky hair bobbing with the motion, and he stares at her, caught off guard. ❝you don't even know me.❞

if hyunjin's words affect her, she doesn't show it. instead, she seems to brush them off like all of his previous concerns and excuses as she shrugs again, ❝maybe not. but i know what it's like to feel like you're not enough. and i know that it's not true, even if it feels like it.❞

arya's gaze briefly falls on hyunjin's lips before returning to his eyes again. she bites her bottom lip, much like she did those few nights ago, and now it's hyunjin's eyes that follow the action.

❝why are you here, arya? really?❞

❝well, i came to return what i shouldn't have taken from you in the first place,❞ she starts, ❝but now i'm here because i think you need someone to remind you that you're more than this.❞ she gestures at the plastic bag and the cigarette laying between them.

❝and what if i don't want to be more? can't be more?❞

❝then i guess you stay here and feel sorry for yourself and what could've been. but that'd be a damn shame.❞ arya stands up and brushes her palms down her legs, dusting off her jeans. hyunjin watches her take a step away from him. and then another. and then he decides he doesn't want her to go.

❝i wanted to be an artist once...❞ he calls after her. his voice is soft and almost desperate and he hates it. but it makes her pause. she stops in her tracks but doesn't turn around to watch him, for which he's glad. ❝i wanted to put my thoughts on paper, paint my emotions, make something that mattered. that's why i went to college..❞ he pauses, voice lowering, ❝but now.. now i don't know who i am anymore.❞

at last, arya twists to look at him, watching his slumped form still sitting on the ramp. her face softens and hyunjin wonders if she'd put him together if he breaks in front of her.

❝it's still not too late to be that person, hyunjin.❞ her voice is like a gentle caress down his spine.

he laughs quietly, the sound bitter and harsh in the night's silence. ❝what if it is? what if i've already thrown it all away?❞

❝then pick it back up. no one's gonna do it for you, but that doesn't mean you can't do it for yourself.❞

｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡ [ おしゃれ ] .ᐟ

even though rain in autumn is common, it still takes hyunjin by surprise. the sky has been a little overcast during the day but there was no indication of a storm. it came suddenly and in heavy sheets, drenching the pavement and blurring the streetlights into hazy golden orbs in a matter of minutes.

hyunjin shoves his hands deeper into his jacket pockets, his sketchbook tucked awkwardly under one arm beneath the jacket. a shiver runs down his spine at the cold drops falling onto his shaved head. spotting a bus stop, he rushes towards it in hopes to wait out the storm before heading back into the suffocating silence of his apartment.

he ducks into the protection of the bus stop, cursing when he takes a look at his absolutely drenched and dirty shoes. but as he gazes up, his breath catches in his throat when he spots her. arya is already looking at him from her seat on the bench, a notebook balanced in her lap, raindrops glistening in her dark hair like tiny diamonds. she smiles at him and her eyes sparkle. ❝and we meet again.❞

he suddenly remembers the bright smile that split her face as she enthusiastically waved at him from a café shop a few days ago, making her friends turn his way. and he remembers how he froze on the street mid-step, stunned that she chose to acknowledge him in public. hyunjin kept his wide eyes on her even as her smile fell and she slowly dropped her hand.

even those he makes deals with choose to act like they don't know him outside of their business, and it doesn't surprise him. his reputation might precede him, even when he doesn't want it to. and that's all right. he can deal with what he's already used to. it's finding himself in situations like these makes him fumble.

even though he could not fathom for the life of him the motive behind her kind gesture, he gave her a small wave back. and just like that, he returned the smile on her face like a magician. and he would be no liar if he said a chamber in his heart lighted up from the brightness of her warm expression.

before hyunjin can stop it, he lets out a quiet chuckle and wipes the rain from his face. ❝that we do.❞

suddenly, her words during their last encounter echo in his head.

it's not too late to be that person, hyunjin.

oh how badly he wants to be that person, a better self, if just for her. instead of telling her so, however, he gestures towards her notebook.

❝you... bring that thing everywhere with you, too?❞ when she looks up, he points at his own sketchbook tucked under his arm. she laughs quietly and returns her gaze to the page.

❝it's a habit, i guess. thoughts come and go. if i don't write them down, i'm afraid i'll lose them.❞

hyunjin ponders that for a minute, leaning against the side of the bus stop. he startles when a raindrop splatters on his forehead and decides to head further under the roof. ❝sound exhausting. having so many thoughts.❞ he says, wiping at his forehead with a damp sleeve, smearing the water all over his face.

❝maybe. but it's worse not to feel anything at all. at least my thoughts keep me company.❞ she looks at him again, and hyunjin awkwardly lets his arm drop. she gestures to his sketchbook, ❝what about you? what do you draw all the time?❞

instinctively, he closes his jacket around the book but his hands let go of the lapels when he tells himself it's just arya. the same arya who has seen one of his most secret drawings of herself and didn't judge him. ❝nothing, really. just lines, shapes... faces. it doesn't mean anything. just keeps my hands busy.❞ catching a breath, he turns back to the street. the rain has eased up a fraction already and it's not lashing down like there's no tomorrow anymore. ❝this view would make a beautiful cityscape.❞

❝you should paint it.❞ he turns to see arya not taking her eyes of her notebook, as if she has mumbled the words under her breath despite maybe not wanting to. even then, he feels as if she's watching him, waiting for him to reply with bated breath.

❝i don't... i'm not that good.❞ hyunjin stammers, then hesitates. he gestures vaguely, partly at himself, partly at the whole world. ❝besides, who would care about what little i have to say on canvas?❞

❝i would.❞ she has paused her scribbling and is now studying him. hyunjin's eyes widen and he startles back a step, but arya continues softly, as if speaking to a spooked animal, ❝i think you have more to say than you give yourself credit for.❞

he runs a hand over his shaved hair. instead of replying, he huffs a sigh. desperate to change topic, he focuses on her notebook again, ❝what are you writing?❞

❝just... thoughts about the rain, mostly.❞ she closes it gently, giving him a secretive smile.

❝thoughts about the rain? really?❞ hyunjin raises a brow and if he didn't know himself, he would say he threw her a teasing glance. but he does, and he knows it's his attempt to keep his cool and pretend to be casual when he feels anything but. his heart is beating in his ears and the butterflies in his stomach are throwing a party.

❝yeah. it makes me think of new beginnings. as in... the rain washes everything clean so it can start over.❞ she shrugs, and pins her gaze on him again. ❝do you ever wish you could start over, hyunjin?❞

❝all the time.❞ he says it quietly, before he can stop himself. unable to take it back, he clears his throat instead and changes the subject again, pointing a finger at her journal, voice lighter, ❝can i see?❞

arya leans back in her seat, resting against the glass of the bus stop. without a word, she hands him the book and hyunjin gingerly takes it in his hands, secretly grateful and amazed at how easily she lets him have possibly her most prized possession. he has a second to wonder about the fact that he has maybe, somehow, earned her trust, before he banishes the thought out of his head.

too complicated. he'll work on the tangle of his emotions and the screams of his thoughts later in the suffocating silence of his messy apartment.

when his fingers brush against hers, he swears he hears arya let out the barest gasp before it's drowned out by the rain.

as gently as he can, hyunjin opens the notebook and is greeted by pages and pages of verses and paragraphs. the first thing he notices, however, is her breathtaking handwriting. she only laughs when he tells her as much, and hyunjin's toes twitch in his soaked shoes at the calming sound. he scans the most recent page and the words she jotted down.

the rain is very calming. even though it's pouring and freezing, i'd still like to stand under it and get drenched. but maybe i'll leave that for summer when it's actually enjoyable. until then, i'll be happy with the smell of fresh beginnings.

❝it's stupid, really. some stuff that i've written... but i try to capture the beauty of the moment and my feelings. they say it's good... when you do that.❞

❝no, it's really good.❞ he shakes his head, thumbing through the filled pages. when he gazes up at her, the look in her eyes disarms him. leaning close, she's looking at him as if she's seeing him for the first time, expecting his reactions. does he look like that each time she gives hope to his dreams and silences the raging storm of his mind? ❝you're really good.❞

she drops her gaze, and hyunjin watches peachy color spread across her cheeks. his lips part and his hands tighten around the journal, as if they wanted to reach out and cup her face in his palms on their own. he lets out a shaky exhale.

suddenly, hyunjin gets the urge leave a trace of himself in her work. taking out his pencil and intentionally ignoring arya's curious eyes back on him, he decides to doodle a small rose in the margins. it's shaky and unbalanced, the lines criss-crossing one another at weird angles, but it's spontaneous, and hyunjin worries his burst of confidence will disappear as soon as it came if he takes time sculpting each petal perfectly. adding finishing touches to his messy drawing, he wonders if she'll be reminded of him each time she opens the notebook on this page. will she trace her fingers over the pencil strokes as her pulse quickens, or will she erase it, whether to have more space to write or just to forget this encounter? forget him?

pocketing his pencil, hyunjin hands her the book, ❝now you'll need to write something about roses in there.❞ arya's gaze switches from the page to him, then to the page again. she doesn't respond, but he takes the small smile lighting her face as a good sign. will she write something about him? would she even mention someone like him on a page full of her tender emotions and memories?

all at once, reality crashes over hyunjin like a sharp and merciless boulder, splitting him open. it's a brutal reminder of the two different worlds they come from. him — sharp-edged and frayed, surviving in the shadows just to make it through another day. and her — soft-spoken and kind-hearted, yearning to bask in the light he's always avoided and thriving in it despite the odds. yet somehow, she ignites a spark within him — a faint, stubborn flicker of the person he once dreamed of becoming, long before the world forced him to surrender to its harsh truths.

but that spark, no matter how warm or persistent, is fleeting. it can never survive in the cold, suffocating dark when he resides.

her world doesn't have space for someone like him — someone who has made his home in the cracks and shadows, who has learned to become numb just to survive. she shines too brightly, and despite his heart telling him otherwise, he knows better than to pull her into the darkness with him and dim her light. the truth is that arya deserves someone who can meet her light with a light of their own, and there is no version of reality where someone like him could ever be deserving of someone like her.

the thought wraps around his mind, cold and suffocating, sinking deeper with every passing second. even if he wanted to change, to be better, what would it matter? the filth of all his previous decisions is already carved into his soul like scars that no amount of time could erase.

every moment hyunjin spends around her feels like both a blessing and a curse. her softness chips away at his carefully constructed walls, leaving him raw and exposed. her kindness only makes him feel the depth of what he's not — and what he could never be.

the best thing he can do for her, he realizes with a sharp intake of breath, is leave. pull away before he does any more harm and his darkness seeps into her life, tainting it.

he doesn't belong in her world, and she doesn't belong in his.

even if part of him selfishly wants to stay and savor the quiet presence of her silence, he knows it's not right. yet, there's a sharp ache in his chest when he stands up from the bench and wordlessly steps back under the relentless rain. a small, desperate part of him wants to cling to her words and the fleeting moments they've shared — the way her voice soothes his frayed nerves or the way her presence feels like a brief reprieve from the chaos of the mess he's gotten himself into, even though she makes color raise to his cheeks and panic grip his heart in a vice grip.

hyunjin desperately wants to believe in her encouragement as much as she believes in him. but, deep inside, a part of him knows that no matter how hard he tries, he'll never be good enough for her and he has to let go before she pulls him closer and becomes more than just a quiet light, a beacon in the foggy distance.

｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡ [ おしゃれ ] .ᐟ

despite his efforts to stay on his own side of the world, hyunjin still keeps seeing arya. maybe he's just become more attuned to her presence and notices her where he hasn't before, even though she was there then, too. or maybe it's some cruel joke of the heavens to play with him and not give his aching heart any reprieve, as if the universe was deliberately making fun of him. mocking him for his lack of courage.

he sees her in the mornings when she's waiting for a bus to university, her cheeks and nose colored from the brisk cold of the autumn weather and her hands stuffed in the pockets of her oversized leather jacket in an attempt to keep them warm. he watches her converse with her friends, smiling and laughing and animatedly explaining herself to them. and he watches as she bounces on the heels of her feet, impatiently waiting for the bus and the warmth it brings with itself.

she doesn't notice him once, though. hyunjin watches her from around the corner of the street, briefly thinking himself some kind of a creep, before her bus arrives, she and her friends get in and he can walk down the empty road.

he also sees her in café shops, in university halls, in parks, in his dreams. however much he tries, she doesn't leave him alone. as much as it tortures hyunjin, he's also grateful for it. her presence, even if it's just in his head, makes the space around him feel calmer and less suffocating. the voices in his head naming his every failure quieten, as if scared of her tender but firm character.

however much he complains about the visions, he cannot doubt that her echoing presence in his head has brought him some semblance of clarity. it has got some elements in his life make sense.

but it has also returned that dim spark into his heart, whispering in his ears about dreams, and he hates it. he hates how often he's replaying her words over and over, dissecting them like a surgeon and musing over them like a philosopher while lying in awake bed, unable to sleep. he hates how many times a day he's considering quitting everything and just starting over, giving himself a chance at new life.

and most of all, he hates how scared he is. scared that, even if he rekindles his passion and determination to make his dreams come true, it could never work. scared that he can never get himself out of his side of the world. scared that he's not strong enough, not smart enough, not quick enough. just not enough.

he thinks about that even as he's walking down the street on market day, weaving between people that stop and stare at every stall. for a brief moment, hyunjin wishes he had their fascination of small, every-day-life delights and occurrences.

with his hands in his pockets, he deftly sidesteps an older couple that abruptly stops to gawk at an exposition of pale ceramic mugs, the wife tugging her husband closer by the crook of his arm.

❝hyunjin! hi!❞ the voice stops him dead in his tracks and he does a double take, sure he's just imagining her sweet voice calling out to him in the middle of the market's buzz. but no, he sees her next to a stall with books, waving at him with her beautiful smile. she has a book in one hand, which she places on the table and steps out into the street.

faster than his brain can comprehend, his feet react, taking him in her direction. with just four big strides he's facing her, staring into her mesmerizing caramel eyes framed by long, thick lashes.

❝hi!❞ she moves to embrace him, wrapping her arms around his middle. hyunjin freezes. a waft of her vanilla perfume reaches his nose, and he gulps down a mouthful of air. he gathers his courage to hug her back but she's already pulling away before he can do so.

❝i didn't think in a million years i'd see you here.❞ she says as she takes the book she previously placed on the table and puts it neatly onto one of the stacks. ❝looking for art supplies?❞

he blinks at her and shrugs. ❝no. just... passing through.❞

❝sure you are.❞ she gives him a cheeky smile, as if they now share an unspoken secret. ❝let me guess, you don't read either?❞

❝what gave it away?❞

she smiles, a small tug of the corners of her lips upward, and walks back to the threshold of the shop. there she kneels in front of several boxes of more books and rummages through one of them. it takes her a while, but she finally finds the one she's been looking for and gets up with a satisfied huff.

❝here.❞ she thrusts the book at his chest. ❝start with this. i promise it's not scary.❞

hyunjin glances down at the book title. the picture of dorian gray by oscar wilde. yeah, definitely not scary. he scratches the back of his head, but takes the book from her hand anyway, albeit reluctantly and after arya's reassurance that oscar wilde nor dorian gray do not, in fact, bite.

❝you really think a guy like me has time for this? for... books?❞

she grins wider. ❝you should make time. everyone deserves a break from reality every once in a while.❞

he's about to protest further, but he notices a figure behind arya. out of the shop steps her brother, his friend and client. jisung. once he notices hyunjin, he sidesteps arya to stand next to her and his eyes darken, even though he dips his head in greeting. hyunjin does the same, and jisung notices the book in his hands. he glances between his sister and him and puts a protective arm over her shoulders.

❝whatcha doin' here, mate?❞ his words are harmless, but they carry a sharp edge he's not sure anyone except him would notice. not even his sister. hyunjin repeats what he told arya a few moments ago, and jisung takes a moment to study him.

right as he's about to say something more to him, though, an older man steps through the threshold of the shop and onto the street. both siblings turn to face him and hyunjin lowers his head in greeting.

❝arya, darling, won't you help me with those boxes? they won't stack themselves up.❞

❝sure, pops.❞

with arya going back to those boxes and hauling multiple books out at once to bring them over to the table, jisung now openly shoots hyunjin a glare. he walks up to him and puts an arm over his shoulder, much like he did moments ago with his sister. however, his grip is stronger as he grabs the back of hyunjin's neck and halfway hauls him to the side.

❝why are you here?❞

hyunjin clenches his jaw. ❝relax, dude. i'm not causing trouble.❞

jisung exhales and meets hyunjin's gaze. there's something wildly assertive in his eyes that makes hyunjin's throat close up. ❝i'm serious, hyunjin. stay away from her. she doesn't need someone like you messing up her life.❞

for hers and his own sake, hyunjin refrains from telling him about the time she bought drugs from him. and even if she didn't use them, she felt the need for them in one moment. he might not belong into her world, but there's something that also doesn't belong in it and has forced its way in either way.

sooner than hyunjin can come up with a reply, arya's there, glaring at her brother from behind his back. gently but firmly, she pries his arm off hyunjin's shoulders. ❝he's not messing anything up. i waved him over and struck up a conversation. let it go, okay?❞

reluctantly, jisung steps back but his eyes never leave hyunjin.

❝i'm sorry about him.❞ arya's eyes are apologetic as she shoos her brother in the way of the table with displayed books. there's now a customer picking through them, probably looking for a specific title he has in mind.

❝would you like to stay for a while? i can make you a coffee or tea, whichever you'd like. i'm sure grandpa would also like to meet you.❞

hyunjin's heart thuds in his chest at her expectant gaze. he wets his lips with his tongue, and arya's eyes follow the action before settling back on his eyes. it takes no more than a second, but hyunjin is alarmingly aware of it.

❝i...❞ he clears his throat, glancing behind her and receiving another nasty glare from jisung. ❝i think i should go. sorry.❞

he quickly turns away and walks down the street with the picture of dorian gray in his hands, before he can see her beautiful face crumble and the pleasant sparkle in her eyes dim.

｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡ [ おしゃれ ] .ᐟ

the library is quiet except for the turning of pages as hyunjin focuses on his sketch. it was already late evening when he came in, hoping the room would be almost empty and no one would witness him giving his dreams a chance, and probably failing spectacularly at it.

for the past two weeks, arya's words have been echoing in hyunjin's head over and over again, her gentle but firm voice repeating those encouraging words in his mind like a mantra.

it's still not too late to be that person, hyunjin.

who would care about what i have to say on canvas? i would.

i think you have more to say than you give yourself credit for.

do you ever wish you could start over, hyunjin? all the time.

before he could think better of it, he grabbed his sketchbook with a pencil from his overflowing nightstand and made his way to the campus library, sitting in the far corner of the room to be as unnoticeable as possible.

he doesn't know if it's just his attempt at trying to prove himself and arya wrong, that he could never be who he once wished to be, or whether it's his attempt to start over and give the possibility of change a chance.

these thoughts come and go as he draws, but hyunjin refuses to delve further into them and look for answers. his other thoughts are already too burdensome to even pay attention to, and tonight he just wants to unwind and feel like the person he could have become had he only a little more courage and a stronger voice.

that is, at least, until someone quietly rumbles a cart full of books down his aisle and stands on their tiptoes to reach the highest shelf. instinctively, hyunjin looks up from his sketch, and his heart jumps in his throat.

arya is reaching for a book sitting on the top shelf, her whole body stretched as much as it would go until she finally gets a good grasp on the book and tugs it down. hyunjin's face heats when he notices the patch of pale skin peeking from her clothing, her side exposed from when she raised her arm. she tugs her top down to cover it as soon as she places the book into the cart. hyunjin breathes out, lowering his head back into his sketchbook as he wishes for her to quickly move on to the next aisle.

but to his dismay, she rummages in the cart and starts pulling out books and placing them on individual shelves. hyunjin's heart rate speeds up as he feels her presence drawing near. if she noticed him, she doesn't show it. hyunjin keeps his head down, hoping to keep it that way.

he himself hardly understands his actions when it comes to arya. as much as he would love spending time with her under any other circumstances, he desperately wishes to avoid her in this lifetime where he has nothing to offer her except another rolled joint.

the fact is, however, that as much as she makes him nervous, gets his palms sweaty and brings color to his cheeks and ears, she also calms him like no one else. she doesn't have to crack her flimsy jokes, throw little teasing comments at him or give him words of reassurance; just her being the way she is gives his unceasing thoughts a brief pause.

hyunjin's heart hammers as he unwillingly realizes what should have been painstakingly obvious weeks ago. as much as he hates to admit it and wishes to use terms like casual infatuation or unreasonable obsession to diagnose himself, he knows they're not the right terms to label what he feels.

because slowly but surely, he's falling in love with her.

with each passing day, the feeling becomes more and more suffocating and his desire to see her and draw out one of her lively laughs or at least coax out one of her disarming smiles wars with his instinct to stay away from her for both of their sakes.

but, as is becoming more and more habitual for him, he stomps down on the thought with all his might in a feeble attempt to prevent it from spreading and growing. instead, he focuses back on the opened sketchbook and the unfinished drawing staring back at him. gripping his pencil tighter in his hand, hyunjin resumes outlining the figure and her thick hair flowing freely down her back, not forgetting adding small details he already knows by heart. like a mischievous sparkle in each eye. or the slight curve of her lips in a cheeky smile.

occasionally, he can't help but glance up and lock his eyes on arya. he tells himself it's for inspiration, and to make sure she's not toppling down with an entire bookshelf. which could be entirely possible, judging by how often she needs to stand on her tip toes to reach the upper shelves.

he studies the gleam of her beautiful dark hair in the dim light of the library and tries to render it into his sketch as best as he can. maybe if he gets every detail of hers perfectly onto paper, his confusing feelings might pour out onto it as well, leaving him hollow once again. and then he would be back to where he's been used to find himself comfortable for years.

❝you've been staring at me for the past twenty minutes. should i start charging you for inspiration?❞ arya speaks without turning around, sliding a book onto the shelf. her voice is light and carries the thread of teasing. she pulls another book from her cart and places it on the shelf.

for a moment, hyunjin startles, his pencil freezing mid-stroke. ❝i— i wasn't—❞ he stammers, cheeks flushing as his wide eyes land on her. he quickly lowers his gaze to the sketchpad in an attempt to regain his focus, but his hand tightens on the pencil.

arya turns around at last and leans against the bookshelf with a small cheeky smirk. ❝relax, picasso. i'm kidding.❞ she crosses her arms against her chest, her curious eyes watching him. in them he also finds a hint of a challenge, as if she's daring him to respond.

❝i wasn't staring.❞ hyunjin mumbles and pointedly looks down at his drawing, but his voice betrays him — it's soft, unsure, and the words are barely audible.

her grin is still in place as she steps closer. ❝if you say so. but whatever you're drawing must be pretty interesting if it's having your eyes flicking up and down so much. ❞ arya says playfully. she leans in then, trying to get a peek at his sketchbook over his shoulder, but he closes it with a snap and instinctively angles it away from her.

however, she's not deterred. she pushes on teasingly, but not unkindly. ❝c'mon, what are you working on? is it a masterpiece? if so, i want to be credited. imagine my name on the label next to your art. woah.❞ she gestures wildly with her hands while talking, and hyunjin feels a flicker of amusement at her exaggerated antics.

❝it's nothing. just... practice.❞ he shakes his head, fingers tightly gripping the edge of the sketchbook.

❝practice, huh? can i see?❞ she takes another step closer and now she's standing directly next to him, and hyunjin freezes. from this close, he scents the sweet aroma of her vanilla perfume again. it spins around him, his head spinning with it.

he panics and his eyes flicker over the library. the lighting in the room is dim, the only glow coming from the few lamps that the remaining students have turned on.

❝it's not finished.❞ he squirms in his seat nervously, ears unceremoniously red.

arya studies him softly, tilting her head. seeming to sense his distress, she ponders her answer for a moment. when she speaks again, it's much more gently, the teasing replaced by something softer. ❝okay. i'll wait until it is then.❞ she takes a step back, giving him space, and hyunjin takes a deep breath. he feels like it's the first one he's taken in a while. her eyes linger on him, like she's trying to puzzle him out.

for a while, there's silence between them. hyunjin worries his bottom lip between his teeth, desperately wanting her to go back to shelving the books. or desperately wanting to come up with a conversation topic that would keep her from leaving.

to his relief, or disappointment, she returns to her book cart and takes another book out, this one a scientific manuscript, and places it on the very bottom shelf. when she doesn't turn to look at him after getting up and instead dives right into the cart again, hyunjin gingerly opens his sketchbook again and picks his discarded pencil from the table. he peers over his brow to make sure she's not watching him, and drags the graphite over the paper.

in the blink of an eye, he becomes immersed in his work, focusing on drawing each line with precision so they come together perfectly to form a soft, feminine figure. he's so focused on his sketch that he doesn't notice arya's eyes flickering back to him every now and then. he barely registers someone sit in the chair next to him. but when he glances up, he finds arya looking at him with her chin propped on her hand. immediately, he turns to a blank page and starts another random sketch with a haphazard line, albeit maybe already too late.

❝you're an interesting one, you know that?❞

hyunjin pauses, his pencil hovering over the page. he doesn't look up. ❝i'm not.❞

❝you sit here sketching, on a friday night, in the quietest corner of the library. you avoid everyone's eyes, and then you won't even let me see what you're working on. sounds pretty interesting to me. mysterious. reserved. girls love that.❞

do you? he wants to ask. instead, he just hums out what he hopes is a response. he focuses back on his drawing and, fuck, is she the only thing he can draw? unnoticed by any other eye but his, he traces the outline of her shining long hair he's starting to bring to life on the page.

❝you're quiet today.❞

briefly, he glances up. ❝i'm always quiet.❞

arya smiles that cheeky smile of hers again, tilting her head slightly. ❝yeah, but today it feels like... like you're too in your head.❞

hyunjin doesn't reply immediately, his attention shifting back to his sketchpad. arya doesn't push him to answer her, letting the silence between them stretch. he scrutinizes the drawing long enough to eventually need to avert his gaze from the page and take one deep breath to collect himself. even without knowing it, she's unknowingly made herself home in so many parts of hyunjin's everyday life and his experiences. her eyes are in the warm coffee he drinks every morning, her waves in between his fingers when he sleeps, and most importantly, her strong and confident presence shows itself in all of his drawings.

❝it's just... i didn't think you'd be here.❞ he eventually stammers out, his cheeks flushing in color again. he's once again grateful for the dim light of the library and hopes arya doesn't notice.

❝why not? i work here.❞

❝it's friday night. also, you're... distracting.❞ finally looking up, he notices her peering at him with a raised brow. she blinks as soon as his words register, taken aback by them. then, a slow grin spreads across her face. she leans closer and hyunjin's breath hitches.

❝am i distracting you? that sounds like a you problem to me.❞ her tone is teasing with a playful edge and hyunjin's lips twitch in an almost-smile. but it falters as soon as it came, and he lowers his gaze to catch sight of her glinting earrings. two stars on each side, one small and the other a fraction bigger.

❝you know...❞ his eyes return to her face, and he curses himself when they stop at her lips before meeting her eyes. by the quiver of the corner of her lips, she has definitely noticed that small motion. ❝you don't have to be so careful around me. i'm not going to break.❞

hyunjin stiffens slightly, his hand tightening around the pencil he has not noticed he's still holding. ❝it's not about you.❞

❝then what is it about?❞ she says, resting her chin on her hand again.

he doesn't answer, afraid of what might come out if he speaks. his jaw tightens together with his hold of the poor pencil which he presses harder against the paper. he nervously bounces his leg beneath the table. arya's hands reach out, her fingers brushing against his wrist to still him. the touch is light, but hyunjin feels it all the way down to his toes.

❝hyunjin.❞ gently, she pries the pencil out of his white-knuckled hand and sets it next to his sketchbook. her voice is soft but firm, pulling his attention back to her. ❝whatever it is, you can tell me.❞

hyunjin stares into her bronze eyes and for a moment, the weight of everything else lifts off his shoulders, just enough for him to breathe. leaving just the two of them. but then the tension creeps back in, breaking the spell, and he shakes his head slightly.

❝you don't understand.❞ he speaks, barely above a whisper.

❝then explain it to me.❞ arya's voice is so stern but also gentle, as if she were softly commanding him to do so. there's also something else in her voice; as if she were desperate to get his answer, to understand him more. the vulnerability of it cuts through the defenses he's been trying to hard to keep up around her.

the air between them grows heavier, and hyunjin leans in slightly, as if drawn to her by some invisible force. arya notices the shift and instead of pulling away, she leans in, too, head tilting just enough to mirror his. hyunjin's unable to take his eyes off hers as the distance shrinks.

he expects the words will catch in his throat, but to his surprise, they make it out and into the silence. they don't exactly explain anything, but they're the only ones hyunjin can think of.

❝your brother..❞ he says so quietly he's sure she cannot hear them, but by the flutter of her lashes and the glint in her eyes, she's heard them as clearly as if he has shouted them.

he thinks she'll roll her eyes at his excuse, or curse him out for being a coward. instead, her mouth twitches as she smiles a lopsided smile. hyunjin blinks once at her reaction and swallows hard.

❝what about him? i'm an adult and i can make my own choices.❞ she doesn't break eye contact as she speaks, only shakes her head a fraction, dismissing the problem of her brother entirely. ❝you don't have to worry about him.❞

his hand trembles beneath her touch on his wrist, but he doesn't pull away. doesn't dare to. instead, he leans in just a fraction more and she mirrors his action. his eyes flicker to her lips again before darting back only to find her looking at his own lips. hyunjin's breath hitches in anticipation as the last sliver of space between them disappears.

for a heartbeat, it feels like time has stopped and it's just the two of them drifting in space, without any burdens or differences weighting them down.

arya's warmth is so close, radiating off her in waves and seeping into his skin throughout his clothes. his pulse races in his ears. her pulls is magnetic, tugging at his core and unraveling the walls he's spent years erecting. in arya's presence, he allows himself to drift out of his shell and accept the possibilities and the what-ifs he otherwise doesn't let himself think of.

he glances at her lips again, pillowy soft and just barely parted.

he wants to. god, how much he wants to. the craving to press his own lips against hers is almost unbearable, shadowing every other thought in his mind. the ache throbs through every fiber of his being, and it's not just about her beauty or personality. it's deeper than that — something that he feels in every beat of his heart and can barely put into words. the way she looks at him like he's not a mess of sharp edges and mistakes, but someone whole. someone who's not just a sum of pathetic things he's done or the shadows he carries, but someone that's worth something.

she makes him feels seen.

and the way she slowly and deliberately leans in as if inviting him into her light makes him forget, for a fleeting moment, why this is wrong.

but the weight of reality creeps back in, as it always does, heavy and suffocating him. she doesn't belong in the mess that is his world, one in which even he can't pretend he isn't drowning.

hyunjin's hands tremble against the table as he fights the urge to close the gap between them. she deserves someone better — someone unbroken, someone who's not pretending not to be the bad guy in everyone's story. not him. never him.

arya is bold, confident, and so full of determination that she practically glows. he's none of those things. he's quiet, wary, reserved, and messy. trapped in the shadows of his own making. she deserves better than to constantly brighten the darkness and scare someone else's shadows away.

he can only ever long for her in the darkness of his room, and that will have to be enough for him.

but still, hyunjin can't move. his resolve is crumbling under the unwavering warmth of her nearness and the careful study of her gaze. if she's afraid of what she might find within him, of the swarming darkness of his soul that even he's scared to closely look at, she doesn't show it, and that terrifies him more than anything else.

he's not sure how much longer he can hold himself before he snaps and acts on the thoughts screaming to close the gap between them and kiss her. every nerve in his body is ready to give in just this once, but he grits his teeth and does what might possibly be the hardest thing he's ever done. he forces the thought down together with all the possibilities of what might have been.

this can't happen. he doesn't know what they are, or what they could become, but he knows it can't last. even if he tried more than ever before, he would eventually ruin it. ruin her.

so just before her lips can reach his, hyunjin shuts his eyes like it's the only way to stop himself and pulls his chair back, the legs loudly scraping on the floor. arya blinks her eyes open and confusion arranges her features into a frown.

❝hyunjin—❞

but he's already standing, snatching his sketchbook and pencil from the table as he cuts her off. ❝i can't.❞ his voice is trembling with want, restraint, and longing. he takes a shaky step back and wobbles on his feet a little. ❝i'm sorry.❞

before she can say anything else, hyunjin rushes out of the library, the door swinging shut behind him, leaving arya with her hand still hovering over where his wrist was. his chest feels tighter than before, and the library feels emptier than before.

｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡ [ おしゃれ ] .ᐟ

the alley stinks of damp concrete and cheap beer, a suffocating reminder of what hyunjin's life looks like. he leans against the cold brick wall as puffs of cigarette smoke leave his lips and tangle with the crisp autumn air. no matter how many times he's done this, nervous and hesitant, tonight doesn't feel right. but for once, it's not the risk of getting caught or the deal going awry that's bothering him — it's the gnawing thought of her and what he almost let happen, or more precisely, what he thankfully made sure didn't happen.

he's mulled over every single one of their actions that evening and how those let them get so close to each other without them realizing it. each night for the past week, he's lied in his bed, wide awake and thinking of what could have been if he gave in and kissed her. or what he could have said or done to avoid the outcome.

his heart still aches at the reminder of her soft lips being so close to claim, but hyunjin stays true to his decision. what almost happened was wrong, no matter how right it felt in that moment.

huffing out another breath, hyunjin checks his phone. the meeting was set, and the buyer's late. taking another long drag of his cigarette, he lets the smoke fill his lungs entirely before expelling it all out in one long exhale. his hand itches in his pocket, fingers curling around his lighter like it might soften his jagged edges.

suddenly, hyunjin hears shoes scuffle over the concrete. multiple pairs of shoes. turning around, he can just about make out the shapes of two guys making their way toward him. one is tall and wiry, built like a lamp post. the other one is a few inches shorter with wider shoulders. they both have their hoods up and their hands stuffed in their pockets.

bouncing his shoulder off the wall he's been leaning against and stubbing the cigarette under his boot, he walks up to the pair. up close, he notices that the first guy is not much taller than him, only beating him by maybe two or three inches.

❝ya got the stuff?❞ he asks, voice low and raspy, like he's trying to make himself sound deeper. ignoring his failed attempt, hyunjin nods once, taking the pack out of his pocket and holding it out for him. his hand twitches toward it, but hyunjin doesn't immediately let go. a faint smirk tugs at the corner of his lips and without further hints, the guy hastily reaches in his pocket and pulls out the requested amount of money. the shorter one watches as they exchange cash and packages from hand to hand, something hyunjin has already done more than a few dozen times. it's muscle memory at this point — hand in the goods, take the cash, and leave before anyone starts asking questions.

he quickly counts the amount, just to be sure, before stuffing it into his pocket, mirroring the taller fellow. as hyunjin's about to turn and leave, he catches sight the shorter guy bumping his shoulder into his companion and throwing him a grin with an eyebrow raise. hyunjin lifts his head and his brows furrow a fraction. are they laughing at him?

the skinny guy looks over hyunjin's shoulder and chuckles. then his gaze settles on hyunjin again, staring him down still with the dangerous glint in his eye.

❝that your girlfriend?❞ he jerks his head behind hyunjin. he glances over his shoulder, and that's when he sees her. his heart plummets like a stone.

arya stands about ten meters away from them, with her neck buried in her collar and her hands in the pockets of her leather jacket. she slowly paces around a lamp post but her eyes flicker back and forth to the trio of them, no doubt closely following the interaction. internally, hyunjin curses her and her confident stupidity.

❝she's pretty. let us have a share, won't ya?❞ one of the guys says, and they both snicker. hyunjin's head snaps back in their direction as panic settles into his bones. the shorter one licks his lips, and hyunjin's face scrunches in mild disgust.

squaring his shoulders, he feigns the confidence he doesn't feel. instinct overrides logic as hyunjin's only thought becomes keeping these two's eyes away from her. he takes a deep breath through his nose, his eyes like hot coals as he glares at them. ❝you're here for the deal, not her. let's not mix things up.❞ his tone is calm and yet unyielding, projecting a tranquility and control he doesn't feel. and as if an afterthought, he adds, ❝she's got nothing to do with this.❞

❝relax, man. just admiring.❞ the shorter one shrugs, with a smirk still plastered on his irritating face.

❝yeah, no harm in looking. or are ya scared she'll trade ya up?❞ the wiry fellow mocks, his grin spreading across his face. hyunjin's jaw tightens in annoyance, but his heart is still beating wildly in his chest.

❝i said, focus on what you came here for. the deal is done. you can leave now.❞ he keeps his voice low and calm but laced with steel. secretly, he's grateful the inner trembling he starts feeling doesn't show in his tone. his gaze hard and unrelenting, the guys hold their hands up in mock surrender.

❝alright, alright. didn't mean to hit a nerve.❞ they start backing off, their greedy gazes once again landing on his arya. hyunjin shoots them another nasty glare and they at last slink away with final snickers. he hears the shorter one with broader shoulders murmur something under his breath, which sounds a lot like so protective and for what, just wanted to play, but he doesn't flinch. he's already turning around, eyes set on arya as he storms toward her.

when she sees him approaching, she straightens and opens her mouth to say something, but hyunjin's already cutting her off, his frustration combined with worry and panic for her bubbling over. he stops abruptly once there's only inches separating them, and arya instinctively steps back, as if taken aback by his sudden proximity. if hyunjin was thinking clearly, he would also be appalled at his courage and his spine would tingle from the force of standing so close to her.

❝what the fuck are you doing here?❞

arya appears completely undeterred by his sudden outburst, crossing her arms over her chest. ❝well, good to see you, too, hyunjin.❞

❝i'm not joking arya. do you have any idea how dangerous this is?❞ he snaps, meaning to run a hand through his hair, but forgetting about his shaved scalp. instead, he simply runs his palms over his head, the thick short hair prickling his skin. angrily, he throws his arms back down by his side. ❝what were you thinking, coming here in the middle of the night?❞

❝i was thinking about you, okay?❞ she snaps back as she leans forward, ❝the day at the library... you just—left. avoided me for days. i didn't know what...❞ she trails off, her voice softening. hyunjin flinches at the indirect mention of their almost-kiss.

❝this isn't about the library.❞ he glances around nervously. his voice drops, almost pleading. ❝you shouldn't be here, arya. go home.❞

she's having none of his preocupations, standing before him with her arms crossed against her chest and a stubborn gleam in her eye. ❝maybe i wouldn't have to be here if you'd actually talk to me instead of disappearing at any minor inconvenience.❞

hyunjin freezes, guilt briefly flickering in his expression before he schools his features back to unreadable. he looks down, his voice barely above a whisper. ❝you don't belong here. in my world.❞

❝and yet, here i am.❞ she spreads her arms wide, gesturing at their surroundings. for a moment, none of them speaks. the tension between them is palpable, both their worlds, their past decisions and their unspoken emotions hanging over their heads like rain clouds.

finally, hyunjin turns away, shaking his head. ❝you need to go. before this gets worse.❞

❝before what gets worse? you're not scaring me off, hyunjin. you're just making it harder to help you!❞ her voice cracks and her brows scrunch up, but she straightens her posture and regains control of her expressions in less than a heartbeat. hyunjin exhales sharply, closing his eyes for a brief moment, fighting an internal battle.

❝who says i want help?❞ his words hurt him as he speaks them, and he knows they find their mark when arya visibly flinches. ❝you wouldn't like what you found if you kept trying anyway.❞

arya's hurt flashes across her face and, in that moment, hyunjin hates himself more than he ever has. more than when he screwed his only chance at normal life up and became who he never thought he would be.

she steps back, still holding his gaze. but hyunjin can see the gleam of unshed tears as they pool in her eyes. arya, however, resilient as always, refuses to let them fall.

❝i don't need to like it. but i'll find it, whether you want me to or not.❞ she walks away with her head down, angrily wiping at her eyes. and hyunjin stands there, washed over with guilt, anger and disappointment — at himself. always at himself.

everything they've slowly been building over the past few weeks, everything that has been blooming between them — their shared thoughts, lingering looks and unspoken trust in each other; hyunjin irrevocably shattered all of it in a single evening. and now he's afraid he'll never be able to put it back together like it once was.

｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡ [ おしゃれ ] .ᐟ

the setting sun stretches its long shadows across the grass and concrete, painting the skatepark in hues of gold and orange and complementing the colors of changing leaves. the faint hum of distant music and the occasional sound of skaters grinding rails fill the air as hyunjin walks down the main path of the park.

he's not sure what has drawn him here — it's more muscle memory than intent, as he spends so many of his nights here either sketching, dealing, or just having a smoke. but as the weather's getting chillier and the nights are getting cold to sit on the ground as he usually does, he's decided to venture out for a stroll sooner, as a way to get some fresh air and make order of his mind.

breathing in the crisp air, hyunjin keeps replaying those few moments that so quickly changed the dynamic of his and arya's relationship — if one can even call it that, in his head over and over again. he doesn't regret what he said, but how he said it. he was scared for arya, frightened even, but he now understands that there were more than a handful of ways he could have delivered his lines that were not so clipped and disdainful toward her.

he keeps seeing her glossed eyes as her tears threatened to escape, and hyunjin's heart breaks again and again each time he remembers how her voice broke. he hurt her, and he's so fucking sorry for it. he wishes he could tell her, but would the words come out exactly like he wants them to when he eventually spoke?

it is moments after that thought when he spots her, as fate would have it, sitting on one of the benches along the main path, the notebook he's held in his hands a few weeks ago balanced on her knees. her pen moves in sharp, eager strokes, pausing every so often as she stares ahead, lost in thought.

he freezes in his tracks about twenty meters from the bench she occupies. she hasn't noticed him yet, her focus entirely on her journal.

in a split second, he thinks about leaving. just turning around and disappearing before she can see him. but something keeps him rooted on the spot when that thought passes through and he considers it. his hands are shoved deep into his pockets to keep his hands away from the biting cold as he wars with himself.

eventually, he decides to step forward tentatively. taking one step after another, he's soon standing in front of the bench. when arya's gaze lifts, it lands on him immediately. her hand stills and for a moment, neither of them moves. she doesn't give him her signature grin he's already gotten used to. she doesn't even offer him a small lift of the corner of her lips, her face remaining completely unreadable.

then she looks back to her notebook without a single word, and hyunjin lowers his head. he knows he doesn't have the right to expect her to treat him like she did before, but her silence is still a punch to the gut.

❝well, are you just going to stand there?❞ he lifts his head up at hearing her voice, neutral, but sharp and pointed.

❝i... didn't mean to interrupt.❞ he awkwardly bounces on the heels of his feet.

she loudly snaps her notebook shut and sets it aside. ❝you didn't.❞ gesturing to the space next to her, she adds, ❝sit, if you want.❞

hyunjin hesitates but eventually takes a seat at the far edge of the bench, keeping a cautious distance between them to accommodate their unspoken tension.

for a while, neither of them says anything. the silence feels heavy as it weights on them like a blanket made of everything unsaid.

❝i'm sorry for how i spoke to you..❞ hyunjin at last breaks the silence, his voice quiet and remorseful as his head hangs low. he refuses to look at her, his eyes fixed on a crack in the pavement. ❝i didn't want to fight with you.❞

arya scoffs. ❝funny. didn't feel that way.❞ she reiterates sharply and her words cut through him like knife through butter. he winces, finally turning to meet her gaze. the first thing he sees in her eyes is hurt, but there's also something else — something resembling betrayal.

❝i was trying to protect you.❞

she raises an eyebrow. ❝by pushing me away?❞

❝by wanting to keep you away from what i do!❞ hyunjin raises his voice, the frustration bubbling to the surface despite his best efforts to keep it down.

arya throws up her hands. ❝but i don't want you to! i've told you before. so why do you still do it? why do you always push me away?❞

❝because i care about you!❞ he argues back, the words registering only after he's already said them. but he can't stop and more pours out of him, ❝i care about you.❞ he repeats, this time more calmly, ❝more than i'm willing to admit. and i want to keep you safe and away from all of this, because...❞ because if something happens to you by a fault of mine, i'll not only lose you, but myself as well.

❝hyunjin...❞ the sound of his name on her lips is quieter than the rustle of the falling leaves.

when he finally looks at her again, arya's expression softens as she takes his confession in. the look in her eyes disarms him. she leans forward slightly, her voice quieter and gentler now. ❝why is it so hard for you to believe that i'm here because i want to be? that i care about you, too?❞

❝nobody cares about me.❞

❝i do.❞

hyunjin's breath hitches and he runs his hand over his head, staring at the ground again. ❝you shouldn't. it'll only get you in trouble.❞

❝maybe it's time for you to stop deciding for me. and, what do you know, maybe i'm looking for trouble.❞ her voice is firm, leaving no place for argument. when he finds her face again, there's a small smile tugging her lips upward, and it takes hyunjin's breath away. a few minutes ago, he didn't feel deserving of it and thought he'd never see it again.

she reaches in the space between them and gingerly holds his hand in hers. ❝i see more than you think i do, hyunjin.❞

hyunjin's breath catches in his throat as she inches closer to him. his mind screams at him to pull away and stop this before it can go any further, replaying over and over again why this is wrong. but his resolve is crumbling, and his heart tells him that this is right with every steady beat. his carefully constructed walls around it are breaking apart under the weight of everything he feels for her.

his other hand twitches at his side, aching to reach for her, tuck her hair behind her ear or hold her closer to him, but he's frozen, caught between his desire and ever-present his fear.

❝arya...❞ hyunjin's voice trembles, but the fight in him is gone, rapidly surrendering to the blazing fire of his heart's making.

their noses brush, and he closes his eyes, breath shaky. for a moment, the world fades away — the park, the skaters, the terrible music echoing from the skating ramps, the topic of danger still lingering between them. it's just her. just his arya. and he wants this more than he's ever wanted anything.

but then his fear claws up his throat to the surface and he pulls back, just the barest inch, but breaking the moment nonetheless. arya blinks, startled by his sudden distance. a milder version of hurt dances in her eyes when she realizes he's done it again, pushed her away once again.

❝hyunjin...❞

❝i can't.❞ he whispers, his expression pained and mirroring hers. but this time, arya doesn't let him get away. she squeezes his hand that she's still holding, and the look of determination returns into her eyes.

❝why not? give me one good reason.❞

hyunjin doesn't want to admit it, but it takes one look into her eyes and he's suddenly letting all the words out of his mouth. ❝because if i let myself have this — have you — i don't think i could stop. and i'm sure i can't give you what you deserve.❞

he expects her to pull away and drop his hand, but her gaze is unwavering. she runs her thumb over his knuckles as her face softens.

❝then stop thinking about what i deserve and for once start thinking about what you deserve, hyunjin.❞

her words hang in the air, heavy with meaning. he looks at her, and something in him shifts, the meaning of them sinking in. he turns his hand palm up and grips her fingers tightly, not wanting to let go. his eyes travel to her lips and he leans in.

the world feels like it's tilting on its axis when hyunjin finally presses his lips against hers. the touch is soft, tentative, yet full of emotions and rawness. a ringing echoes in his head as the years-lasting walls around his heart shatter, leaving him bare and vulnerable before her. for a split second, his mind stills, silenced by the closeness of her — close, but not close enough. the faint scent of her perfume and the cooling air of the skatepark envelope him and for once, he's not running. he's not hiding, nor pretending.

for such a long time, he has convinced himself that arya deserves someone better — someone whose shadows aren't trailing his every step and being a danger to her brightness.

but now, with her hand in his and their lips pressed against each other, he can see another angle he's never allowed himself to explore. the shadows are his to command; they've been with him long enough and have given him a long time to learn how to control them. if it was anyone else, they would overwhelm him, but for arya he'll make sure to hold them at bay, like his old friends and companions that are slowly but surely biding their time.

she leans into him and deepens the kiss.

hyunjin tentatively rests his palm against her chilled cheek, his thumb running over the soft skin. the weight of her faith in him, her trust, washes over him like a tidal wave. it feels so undeserved, so impossibly generous, that it almost makes him pull away again from the sheer amount of emotions he's unable to comprehend bubbling in him.

but arya's fingers ghost over his cheeks and the side of his jaw, settling at the back of his neck. in this moment he knows that he'll do everything to be deserving and feel worthy of her trust, of her softness, of her silence, of her.

arya's touch whispers reassurance into his ear and suddenly, his doubts don't feel so insurmountable. they still linger, of course; they always will, but no more are they loud enough to drown out the frantic beat of his heart under his jacket. a heart that has always been neglected but is now thudding in time with the quiet echo of her words in his mind.

for once start thinking about what you deserve, hyunjin.

for so long, he has believed he doesn't deserve anything at all — no happiness, no second chances, and certainly not someone like her. but now, with her in his arms and her warmth breaking through the coldness he has wrapped himself in, a new thought creeps in.

what if he could become someone that is deserving of her? and not only of her, but of all those things he's never let himself have again after losing them.

he doesn't need to be perfect, nor polished — only better. stronger. more resilient. someone who doesn't just drag himself through shadows but fights his way toward something brighter each day.

the kiss softens, turning slower and more deliberate. still passionate, but also filled with longing and fondness. their mouths move in soft strokes, silently telling a story words can't begin to explain.

tilting her head up with the hand still resting on her cheek and angling her face to better capture her lips, hyunjin realizes something that steals his breath. it's not just arya. it's also her words, her persistence and perseverance that have gotten through to him and have planted a seed in him — an idea, a dangerous spark, that he could be more, not just for her, but for himself, as well.

after all this time, he thought he has buried his desires and passions — his sketchbook left unfinished or filled with frustrated scribbles and torn-out pages, his art supplies collecting dust in the bottom drawer of his drawer, his dreams abandoned.

but they've been waiting for him all this time, their spark not dimming despite how long they've been uncared for.

and for the first time in years, it doesn't feel so impossible to pick them back up.

hyunjin pulls back just enough to catch his breath and presses his forehead against hers. their breaths mingle in the cool air and the new reality stares at them from the glow of the setting sun. his heart hammers against his ribs, but, for the first time, not because of fear. because of hope.

❝i'll get there.❞ he murmurs, voice thick with emotion. his hands tremble as they hold her face and one of her hands close to him, as if afraid she might disappear if he lets go. ❝i'll be better... for you. for... me. i promise.❞

arya's lips curve into a small smile, her hand gently wrapping around his wrist as she tilts her head to meet his gaze. ❝i know you will.❞ she says simply, but the words are filled with a steady stream of confidence and certainty he's seldom been able to muster for himself. ❝and i'll be here.❞

the weight of her words settles over him, but he smiles. he wants to believe her, wants to let himself fully trust this fragile thing they've created together. he wants it so much, but he knows it will still take him a while to get to that point. there are still many obstacles before him, and darkness waiting to creep in at the first sign of weakness. instead, he lets himself appreciate this moment and the feeble hope that's taken root in his soul and makes him feel like he can fight. for her. for himself. for the future that doesn't feel so impossible anymore.

as arya's lips find his again in a kiss that tastes like silent encouragement and unspoken promises, hyunjin lets himself believe. for now, he allows himself to believe that maybe, just maybe, he could be enough.

｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡ [ おしゃれ ] .ᐟ

hyunjin's head whips in the direction of his front door at the sudden knock. he startles, the coffee in the mug in his hand sloshing dangerously close to the edge and spilling. his first thought is trouble. in his world, unexpected visitors rarely bring anything good. but again, he's slowly putting that world behind him now.

cautiously, he pads over to the door, his socks muffling the sound of his footsteps. for a brief moment, he considers not opening it, but the knock comes again — gentler this time, almost hesitant.

when he opens the door, the breath catches in his throat.

arya's standing before him, wrapped in a thick coat and a giant woolen scarf drowning out her neck and chin. a few stubborn snowflakes hold onto her hair, glinting in the dim light. a smile pulls at her lips, her eyes kind and familiar. her pink cheeks from the cold outside warm his heart.

❝hi!❞ she exclaims and shows him another one of her grins, her voice cutting through him like a gentle ripple. in her gloved hands is a box wrapped in christmas paper, and hyunjin's eyes travel to it briefly before meeting her gaze again.

❝arya... what are you.. what are you doing here?❞

she tilts her head slighty, her smile widening just a fraction. ❝what does it look like? i came to see you!❞ he blinks, and before he can protest, arya's already moving past him into his apartment, hanging her coat and scarf on a hanger, getting out of her shoes and yelling a child-like, excited merry christmas!

she always has a way of catching him off guard, especially with her simple, matter-of-fact answers. it leaves him completely disarmed but also oddly comforted at once.

❝you shouldn't...❞ he speaks, closing the door behind him and meeting her in his kitchen. he sees her eyes snag on the copy of the picture of dorian gray laying on the kitchen counter, surely remembering the moment when she gave it to him. ❝it'll be dark outside soon.❞

❝i'm fine.❞ she shrugs and waves a hand once she tears her eyes off the book, dismissing his concerns. ❝besides, i didn't come all this way to get scolded.❞

his lips part to protest but before he can say anything, she's placing the wrapped box on his kitchen island and pushing it toward him. it's not anything fancy — just a regular wrapping paper with a wild pattern, tied with a thin string and a bow at the top. but the care she's put into preparing it is evident, and it warms his heart when he thinks of her sitting on the floor and wrapping up presents.

her smile is cheeky as she pushes it onto his side of the island. ❝this is for you.❞

hyunjin quietly stares at the gift. for him?

his hands hesitate at his sides, unsure whether to take it or push it away. he's unused to receiving attention or anything other that even distantly resembles it. he hasn't gotten a present in years; not even for his birthday.

hyunjin looks at arya, trying to find the meaning behind the gesture in her eyes.

she sighs, slumping her shoulders and rolling her eyes. shaking her head with an amused smile, she puts her hands behind her back. ❝relax, it's not a bomb.❞

hyunjin gives her his best no-shit look, but the corners of his mouth twitch despite himself. ❝what is it?❞

❝open it and you'll see.❞

tugging at the string, he carefully unties the bow at the top and peels the wrapping paper away, revealing the contents inside. his breath hitches when he sees it — a set of brushes and paints, neatly arranged in a small wooden box. the sight of them hits him harder than he expects, the familiar shape of them stirring something deep inside him. they stare back at him, pristine and untouched, waiting to be used in order to bring his visions to life.

❝i just... i thought maybe you could use them. you know, when you're ready.❞

for a long moment, hyunjin doesn't move, doesn't speak. he just watches the utensils, convinced they'll disappear with a puff like a dream if he blinks. the weight of her gesture presses down on him — but not in a bad, burdensome way. it reminds him how fare he's already come in the span of a few short but tiring weeks, and how much further down the path he still has to go.

hyunjin's mind flickers back to the last few months and to the chaotic blur of everything that has happened between them. from the moment she first texted him pretending to be her brother, to all the times she has shown up in places she shouldn't have, stubborn and reckless and always unafraid, and always for him. she wasn't scared to meet him where he was — darkness, shadows, sharp edges and all. she has seen the ugly parts of him as well, especially the ugly ones, and hasn't flinched.

his fingers brush down over the smooth wooden handles of the brushes. he sketches quite often, sure, but he hasn't painted in years — not since he has given up on the boy who once dreamed of creating art that could make people feel something. that boy has been buried under layers of dirt, darkness and guilt, locked away behind walls so high he could not begin to scale them.

but now hyunjin's slowly letting him out again, tentatively allowing him to see the beauty of the world with his big, curious eyes and willing to help him start the slow crawl toward something better.

his gaze shifts to arya, who now has a sheepish smile on her face, her eyes wide and expectant of his reaction. ❝i...❞ his voice is rough with emotions, and he clears his throat, hoping to push them further down as they claw up his throat. ❝thank you.❞

the words feel small compared to the grandness of the gesture and the gratitude swelling in his chest, but they still conjure a big smile on her face.

❝don't thank me. just... use them. if you want. if you're ready.❞ she says softly, fumbling with the bottom hem of her sweater. ❝you still owe me my name on the label, you know.❞ at hyunjin's furrowed brows, she lets out a dramatic gasp, clutching at her heart. ❝don't tell me you forgot! you have to make me a star, hyunjin! the label with a description of me next to your art is waiting for me!❞ she touches the back of her hand to her forehead in a theatrical impression of dizziness. unlike himself, hyunjin barks out an unexpected laugh at her antics. somehow, she always knows exactly what to do to lighten the mood when she's with him.

his grip tightens on the box, his heart swelling. he wants to tell her how much it means, how much she means to him, but the words still stick in his throat when he tries to speak them. another day, then. he'll wait for another day. someday, he's sure he'll finally be able to tell her.

instead if speaking, he looks at her, hoping she can see all of it in his eyes for now — his feelings for her, and his quiet promise that he'll try. for her, himself, and the boy who once used to dream big.

arya's smile softens, and she moves around the kitchen island, coming to stand beside him. ❝i should get going, jisung's waiting for me. i just wanted to drop this off.❞

hyunjin's eyebrows fly up at the mention of her brother. the last time he saw him, he warned hyunjin to stay away from arya so as not to mess her life up. looks like he also underwent some kind of change of heart, and hyunjin's almost entirely sure she has something to do with it. the corner of his lips twitches briefly at the thought, but it's replaced by a slight frown when her words fully register. his chest tightens at the thought of her leaving, but he forces himself to nod.

arya reaches out for his hands still poised over the box, holding them in her own and caressing his knuckles. hyunjin stands starstruck and frozen, unable and unwilling to move. she pushes her weight against him, standing on her tip toes to reach his face and give him a small peck on the cheek. her lips are gone as soon as hyunjin feels them on his skin.

❝remember that i'm always here.❞ she murmurs, giving his hands a final squeeze, and pulls away, leaving hyunjin unmoving in the middle of the room. she walks back into the foyer and quickly puts her shoes and coat back on. she's already reaching for her huge scarf when hyunjin becomes aware of himself and every single nerve in his body once again.

❝arya,❞ he calls out before he can stop himself.

she pauses wrapping the scarf around her neck, glancing back at him with a raised brow. ❝yeah?❞

for a moment, he fumbles with what to say. he starts to thank her for the gift again, but stops himself. his mind scrambles for the right words, something to express even a fraction of what he feels right now. but in the end, all he manages is, ❝be careful.❞

her eyes soften, and she nods. ❝always.❞

with that she's gone, leaving hyunjin with the faint scent of her vanilla perfume and a heart that feels just a little lighter than it has before her visit.

his apartment feels quieter than ever, but it's not the suffocating silence he's grown used to. in its place is a peaceful, steady kind of quiet. a reflection of the person who's brought him to this point.

hyunjin lets his gaze linger on the box and what's inside again. the colors seem to glow under the dim light of winter days, vibrant and alive, ready to be used by him. it's symbolic, in a way — bright colors to represent his new reality and the life that begins anew, on a blank canvas. he's not naïve enough to think the darkness is gone. no, it's still there, lurking at the edges of his consciousness, waiting to pounce and take over at the slightest sign of weakness.

but he's not afraid of it anymore. he's learned that he doesn't have to fight it alone.

for the first time in years, hyunjin allows himself to hope. to believe that maybe, just maybe, he can create something beautiful out of the mess he has been given. make his story beautiful it an ugly, raw and true way of expression.

he will stumble along the way, but this time he will keep going. he'll fight for the future he's only recently started envisioning again, and for the person he wishes to become.

as he picks up one of the brushes and gingerly holds it in his hand, he lets a small smile tug at his lips. arya's words echo in his mind, quiet but insistent.

for once start thinking about what you deserve, hyunjin.

starting now, he will.

｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡ [ おしゃれ ] .ᐟ

[hwangspages]

.ᐟ 𝒸urrent 𝒲𝐼𝒫 𝓁ist 𝒻or 2025 ｡｡｡

뭣도 할 수 없어 그저 𝒷lame 𝑜n 𝓂e, 너와 내 tragedy, tragedy, tragedy 가득해 슬픔이, 슬픔이, 슬픔이, 날 가둬버린 이 scene, 영원 같은 그 sequence stay for me, i can't get used to it 반복돼 잔인하게, 견딜 수가 없게

ONCE UPON A TWIST ( 𝒶 𝓂ultifandom 𝓈eries )

❝ɪɴ ᴡʜɪcʜ 𓈓 some stories end in happily ever after. others seem destined to — until they don't. what if one small action, one fleeting choice, could rewrite the fate of a fairytale or turn a beloved classic on its head? step into a world where the familiar takes an unexpected turn, and nothing unfolds quite as it was meant to.

HIS SILENCE AGAINST HIS SHARP EDGES ( 𝒽wang 𝒽yunjin x 𝒶rya 𝓇aven )

❝ɪɴ ᴡʜɪcʜ 𓈓 hyunjin's life as a college student moonlighting as a dealer is nothing but sharp edges – fast deals, blurred lines of righteousness and danger around every corner. he has never much questioned the decisions that have defined him, but when his friend's quiet and soft-spoken sister comes seeking what he offers, everything changes. drawn to her calm presence yet desperate to keep her away from his world, hyunjin's life presents him with a choice. in silent understanding and stolen glances, their connection grows – but can someone like him ever offer her anything more than heartbreak and a joint to lessen the pain?

THE FINAL ILLUSION ( 𝓁ee 𝒽eeseung x 𝒸hoi 𝓈owon )

❝ɪɴ ᴡʜɪcʜ 𓈓 reality bends, and illusions come alive. heeseung, the master illusionist, weaves a world of wonder so vivid it blurs the line between dream and truth — but every spell demands a sacrifice. the carnival thrives on emotions, feeding on the souls of its performers and audience, but its cost runs deeper than anyone dares to admit. as heeseung's hollow obsession with the one thing he cannot control spirals into madness, the illusions begin to fracture and chaos rises. the master faces an impossible choice — preserve the wonder he's built, or destroy it together with every last piece of himself. when the curtain falls, who will remain standing?

보여, 미소 짓는 너의 환영, 뒷걸음질 치는 달력은 날 더 미치게 해 수많은 추억이 fade and dissolve 누가 좀 멈춰 이 𝑜pening 𝓈equence, no, it's running through my head, 이제서야 난 깨달았어 그림자 속 많은 복선들, 너와 약속한 세계의 끝 ❝𝓉hat's 𝓈o 𝒸liché❞

[hwangspages]

every day and night i'm walking 혼자 걷는 밤은 더 어둡지, 고독하지만 the lone king 칼 뽑아 내 길은 내가 그려 true 노을을 향해, but I'm blue 안 보여 even with the moon

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 ── .✦ 𝓂asterlist .ᐟ

୭˚. 𝒽wang 𝒽yunjin ᵎᵎ

HIS SILENCE AGAINST HIS SHARP EDGES 𓂃✷⋆⸜ [ 16.3K ] ALAS DEL DEMONIO 𓂃✷⋆⸜ [ coming soon . . . .ᐟ ]

`✦ ˑ ִֶָ 𝓁ee 𝒽eeseung 𓂃⊹

THE FINAL ILLUSION 𓂃✷⋆⸜ [ 7.7K ] CINDERELLA 𓂃✷⋆⸜ [ 7K ]

.⟢⭑ 𝓎ang 𝒿ungwon ˖☘︎๋࣭

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⊹₊⟡⋆ 𝒸hoi 𝒷eomgyu ಇ.

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╰⪼  𝓂yung 𝒿aehyun  .ᐟ

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¡!⟢  𝒽an 𝓉aesan  ⋮

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✴︎˚ ⋆ .✦ 𝓂ultifandom 𝓈eries 𝓂asterlist .ᐟ

ONCE UPON A TWIST 𓂃✷⋆⸜ [ 7K ]

[hwangspages]

──★ ˙ 𝓐LL 𝓣HE 𝓦ORLD'S 𝓟AGE ｡｡｡

and we are but scribbled thoughts.

faded baby, 우리에게 주어진 밤이 maybe 하루뿐이라면 𝓌hat 𝒹o 𝓎ou 𝓌ant? 얘기해줘 허락된 한 줄기 너라는 love

𝓂asterlist

you say, ❝𝑔ood 𝓃ight, 𝓂eet 𝓂e 𝓃ext 𝓁ife❞ but where are you now? got me like 달빛 아래 잠시, 허락된 heaven 너를 끌어안을게. a world that never was, for those who 𝓭𝓪𝓻𝓮 to dream it so.

@ hwangspages : all rights reserved. do not repost, translate or remake. theme inspired by @ jjunieworld. my works are in no way an accurate representation of the idols and should not be taken as such.