yeolkeot

[yeolkeot]

( @consilian for ahyeon! )

kihyun you shouldn’t do this.

“kihyun you shouldn’t do this.” he’s mocking her, it’s small and it’s high pitched but it echoes down the halls.

kihyun can’t do this he’s a ravenclaw. kihyun’s a punk he wouldn’t dare. he just sits at his desk and keeps his head in his books.

first of all, false. he’s really playing with his console behind his book. second of all, he would dare and he will dare and they’re going to eat their words. he would’ve bet on papers for an entire month but he doesn’t need idiots to write his papers and he’d rather not attempt a hex and deal with the professors again. his hex skills could use some work. some, he’s still a fucking genius. and he’s not a wuss. which is why he’s heading to the haunted hallows. he would’ve headed to moaning myrtle’s bathroom but the girls keep screaming and he’d - rather not.

so he heads to the hallows. the closed off section where they’d found blood writing again last week and a severed limb petrified. yep. he’s not scared and he’s also not sure why ahyeon’s with him.

“why are you here if you’re going to tell me how much of a bad idea this is. we’re literally almost there i’m obviously not listening to you.” he is. because she’s carrying the camera for proof ( since of course everyone else is too scared to tag along and see him do it ). ah that’s why she’s with him.

“if you’re so scared, go back. we have a test in hexes tomorrow I know you didn’t study for.” did he promise to study with her? he can’t remember. he does remember the shortcut to the hallows though and he’s powering through.

[yeolkeot]

( kihyun + winter! )

hummmmm kihyun hates the winter. and he hates summer. he’s usually very grumpy during the season and keeps to himself. he won’t lash out as much as usual he caves in more. he hates being cold so he’s always on edge during winter time as well as always bundled up.

he has black hair for the season yes. he’s gaining muscle mass but a few weeks of lessened eating has made him lose some of his baby fat.

he cooks soup a lot during the time and usually makes enough to last a week and a half. he’s especially good at making soups for the winter time.

kihyun hates doing anything during the winter, he hibernates a lot and sleeps for the most part. if not his winter is spent at end of the year art shows and galleries with his parents and he usually spends christmas with them but this year he’s planning not to. all previous years were spent with his parents and he actually doesn’t hate the time but he struggled with it as a kid. he either loved all the attention or felt like it wasn’t genuine. he has an on and off relationship with christmas.

[yeolkeot]

consilian:

@yeolkeot.

the thing is, hyunwoo doesn’t always claim to understand what surrounds him. life gets tough and he can’t complain if he wants to keep his sanity (and his life) but there’s something equally important about remembering where you come from.

kihyun’s a difficult kid to understand, sometimes. but he must have his reasons and hyunwoo doesn’t tend to pry. simply accepts him as he comes and goes, watches from a distance (sometimes from up close) and forms his own opinion. there’s nothing wrong about the kid kicking and pushing and clawing, he thinks. maybe it’s his own way of leaving a mark on this world, maybe he just needs an outlet.

who’s he to judge when he doesn’t know it any better?

( sms: 007 ) did we say we’d meet up at 8 or 9? ( sms: 007 ) if it was 8, i need a rain check. i’m running into some issues.

downstairs, there’s someone waiting for him to hurry and finish the job. someone complains about hyunwoo being tardy, someone else tells them to shut up. he’s the best money can buy so let him work. except, loyalty comes at a cost that nobody’s willing to pay and if hyunwoo doesn’t know it any better, now he’d say he almost does.

maybe kihyun won’t wait, maybe he will. only time will tell.

kihyun’s blowing off energy when he gets the message. in the slow way, with a lollipop between his lips and his shoulders braced against a wall.

he hasn’t counted how long he’s been here but he’s been here a while. he’s lost track of time, his fingers ache, red stains the ends of the lollipop. his lips stain purple. he’s liked grape recently. he thinks he’s changing. he thinks that the people groaning and writhing on the floor are a sign of that. he thinks bruised rather than busted are a little better.

he said he’d wait and he did. he’s impatient so he killed time. waiting for hyunwoo always means waiting in interesting places, hanging in old places. the ones that burn in the back of his head, sometimes home and sometimes hostile. sometimes that’s the same thing and he can’t tell the difference. sometimes he thinks the burn is the closest he is to home and he’s too built of fire to escape the flame. that’s fine. because the burn doesn’t hurt. it does sting, because it’s been a while since he’s actually been in a brawl. but he didn’t cut his knuckles and there’s only a little blood and his blood simmers down.

picking his phone from his pocket hurts, and there’s a quiet his as his fingers close around it.

he said he’d wait. and he was.

( sms: thing 1 ) hyung. 8. it’s 9:30. ( sms: thing 1 ) i really want this tattoo and they won’t do me if you’re not there, fucker at the desk thinks I’m a high schooler. ( sms: thing 1 ) but i’m also facing a situation right now so maybe I can wait. ( sms: thing 1 ) bring me ice though please. and coffee it’s cold. oh and a chocopie. ( sms: thing 1 ) is it like a pressing issue - need me to come by?

he’d said he’d silence the burn and he hasn’t.

[yeolkeot]

00.

“i see you’re back.” says the vulture. “not for you,” a dead body talks. drags words. “but you’re back, are you ready.” the vulture grins. the body holds dreams close. a smile, friends. “yes.” “good, let’s begin.” the vulture picks. pulls. lays out the unwanted. the body endures. like this, resurrection remains ironically sacrificial. he will resurrect, if not for the body, for the dreams.

[yeolkeot]

People give me advice like I’m an idiot with no self awareness, but the truth is, I know what I need to do. But that doesn’t make it any easier.

[yeolkeot]

[yeolkeot]

run.

( @clementide )

four. four times he’s tried this. four times he’s failed. and kihyun has never been so accepting of failure, so ready to know it and listen to it and bow his head to it. but he has, and he’s accepted with clammy hands and worried lips. he’s bitten them enough, bitten them raw and then chastised himself. sometimes in her voice, never in his mother’s and sometimes in his own.

he hasn’t been using his voice much these days. hasn’t been yelling like he should, hasn’t been talking like he should. part of it is because he doesn’t have any of his games at haeri’s hideout, just the occasional handheld. and that’s okay. because he yelled the first few days, yelled and screamed and went raw. those were done after a few days of echoes and pointlessness. he’d scratched it all dry and still felt the ache, the wretch every few seconds.

so he scribbled, and scribbled and scribbled. scribbled his solace into paper after the walls weren’t enough. and as it began to look like her, he began to follow it. seep-ridden, nightmare living. he followed. four times he’d walked near her door, around. sleep-ridden, nightmare-driven. he’d walked and retreated and walked and retreated and walked and and and. he made it. he made it to the door and he’s holding the sketchbook close, shoulders low and curled in, hair wild and full. he holds it and the only reason he doesn’t fail a fifth time is because this time, the door opens without a knock. and he’s startled. and it shows.

[yeolkeot]

reparations.

( @consilian )

Dear Ms. Ahyeon,

I apologize for the time it took to get back to you. I told Kihyun to discuss the situation with you but it appears he had some things to attend to. To put it simply, I wanted to apologize for the grading I gave you on your presentation. I had no idea of the circumstances surrounding your project and your partnership with Kihyun. He’s come to me and apologize and spoken about the duties he neglected, which I must say is surprising given what I’ve heard about him from other teacher. Anyway, I have decided to scrap the grade, if you’d like to send me the presentation again with just your contribution I will gladly grade it fairly. Or if you’d like me to give you makeup small assignment to replace the grade that is acceptable. Once again I apologize, I did not realize the situation you were in. Kihyun has already stopped by my office and spoken to me but if you’d like to discuss in person that is acceptable. I hope your semester ended well, please let me know so I can adjust the grades before they become final!

Sincerely,

Professor Sang, phd. SNU

[yeolkeot]

hands 👋

@clementide

the body knows of a few kind of rejections.

by shame. by memory. by blood. kihyun’s is no exception.

it knows of viruses and knows how to spit everything bad bad bad out even if it has to wreck itself. kihyun has a habit of treating himself rather ugly. roughly too. swallowing the pain and the blood, holding it and letting it settle jagged into his veins until they become one. him, pain and anything that can hurt him. he takes it all, the hits, the fits, the break and the wear. he takes it to prove something to himself. if he can take it nothing can hurt worse, no one can hurt him worse. it’s a dirty practice but it’s no longer routine it’s a function. he’s been absorbing the pain of the world since it decided innocence was too nice a gift to give him. 

he’ll rise with blood in his mouth and wear it with pride. and he won’t ask for anything different. he’s tasted what he deserve and he accepts it. fights it but only because he likes that taste better, blood and victory.

so now when someone raises a hand at hand he can raise one back, he can’t recoil he strikes. he takes before anything else can take from him. he takes and takes and acts like bruises say strength. acts bigger than big and the biggest of all is the one standing on top, the one always ready to fight back.

when he doesn’t - he thinks something is wrong. 

he still feels the rejection, like a million wrongs ringing in his body but he doesn’t move. he’s not scared because he knows fear. he’s not angry because he knows anger. he’s confused, visibly confused. he remembers recoiling like second nature, remembers moving from fights he can’t win and remembers squashing his body in corners. 

what he’s not used to and what he doesn’t remember is a welcoming. the warm that melts all edges and blurs. he doesn’t remember anything being gentle with him, around him. everything around kihyun is jagged, a threat until proven otherwise. he lives like this and when his vision gets obstructed he’s confused, wondering.

jieun is, welcoming in every aspect. jieun is the kind of nice he tries to convince people he isn’t. that’s fine because jieun is jieun and kihyun is kihyun. nice as she is, kind as she is, he doesn’t think that kind of gentleness bleeds on. it radiates but it can’t bleed. 

so when she takes his hand the first time he pulls back. kihyun knows he’s all anger and knows he can’t do anything about it, but he knows how his anger is and he knows it consumes. he recoils, like he’s used to doing and stays beside her.

the second time is subtle. this time he doesn’t go blind, this time the blur is in specks. it’s when her hand hovers by his, touching every so often and jumping every other second. the’re walking, talking, about things that seems meaningless each time fingers brush. but he keeps talking and they keep walking and he sticks as close to the warmth as possible.

they don’t talk about the first time and he doesn’t bring it up. remains shameless and sheepish at the same time. contradicts and confuses his wants and needs. but it’s jieun. so he doesn’t worry.

the third time, blood surfaces. in his ears, cheeks, neck. pools subtle and painless and he’s only got the cold of the night to mask it. it happens when he stands on a rooftop and she stands beside him. when he makes promises not to get into trouble again, when his fists have done all they can to prove that he can’t be held, can’t be cared for. when he’s too tired to put effort into a lie.

he’s got his face stuffed in the sweater, planted on top of the roof ledge. it’s dark. it’s freezing. and it’s everything that jieun isn’t. this is where the wants and the needs start to come together. one second she’s pressed against his shoulder, nudging him and coaxing him. the only one who says his name like he’s a person. and he keens leaning over to everything he remembers about jieun. the warmth and the joy, the calm and the wish. to be all that even though he knows he can’t.

for the moment it’s silent, as it always is after he’s spent his fists dry. and then she’s taking his hand in hers and it’s calm. 

he hears the night. the winds blowing against old laundry. faint planes across the sky. people wandering too late at night. and her words breaking close enough to his psyche for him to hear.

kihyun can, spit, cover and roll in all the blood and bruises he wants. he can try red as pinks and purples as blues. he can do it all he wants and use it as his form of calm and quiet. nothing will ever beat jieun’s, and that’s why he sticks closer, closes his hand in hers.

and never takes it out.

he knows rejections like he knows pain. knows it like his own body owns it. but he knows jieun like the first welcoming and the first savior. and he welcomes, and he clings.

[yeolkeot]

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[yeolkeot]

end of the line, @yeolkeot​.

they all had their hopes placed onto her and yet selfish as she was, she sought to escape the illusionary chains that bound her. it was him. he who does not care about human lives. he sneered and filled himself with disdain, letting grudges consume him. he did it all so willingly. he talks of a love to offer, but she was nothing more than a pawn. her salvation was elsewhere, until it all goes wrong.

there is one important flaw to her that is easy to accept. she is a hypocrite. she is pure lies and illusions. she ignores any sign of sustainable judgement. the moment her cover is blown, she runs. she is fast, she can hide in her shadows, she can turn her own trail into deception. it made sense why this is her power. it is the manifestation of her soul. she only knew violence but held on to the idea of peace. she only knew cruelty, but held on to the idea of heroism. she is too stubborn, believing in things when everything around her tells her otherwise.

but this time, she runs with the motivation to chase what has haunted her for decades. she knew no stronger foe. adam’s semblance was to pierce through aura. all her hits and blade beams, he can simply store and have it backfired on her, bypassing her aura for one big attack. she’s seen it herself and replicated the skill itself for her own benefit. the passive force field she can create can only stop damage, not pain. her wounds can heal, but not in a snap. she casts herself on a rule; no logical thought or speech until one of them is dead. this was her last stand, whether she wins or lose. if there was anyone who needed to see her gone, it was him.

his frame, the details of his face, and his figure turns into a glowing red from a distance. she feels her chest sting at the sight of him. he offers her words, but she didn’t arrive to have her walls broken down. she makes her first strike in thoughtless anger. “what you want isn’t possible. you cannot die.” she hated him for speaking the truth. he knew all the ways to tick her off, and even being apart for so long, he knew what her agenda was. yet, she doesn’t stop. “i understand. all i ever wanted was you. i wanted to light the fires of revolution with you.”

“lies!” she strikes on and on in a tantrum, each beat smashing onto his sword and making it glow brighter. “fight back, you bastard!” thus, the first time he listens to her without any protests. he charges back, sending her katana away and disarming in one blow. all the colors around them becomes drained. everything turns red and black. rose petals float in the air and then they fall, shrinking and wilting. he stops midway, trapping arabella under his weight. “just kill me.” she begs, finally sparing him a softened gaze, eyes watering, prepared to bequeath him as she steps into a place of darkness.

“you ought to remember, i made it my mission to destroy everything you love and ever loved.” alarmed, her eyes shift in urgency and in a blink of an eye, a searing pain in her chest hits her like a bullet. blood gushes out and covers her while her hand desperately attempts to press down his wound. “no… no, no, no… no…” his skin grows cold yet his expression shows he remained unfazed until his last breath. the night ends with arabella soaked in his blood and her tears.

she bemoans how he continues to hurt her to the very end and the next morning, she paces around in what she’s made into her lair with his weapon in her hand. all she’s left with was memories. all she ever knew was gone. through mourning, she sets out to clear her mind but a stranger takes the worst of times, halting her steps as he goads her on, speaking of bringing her down. for the sake of his friends. “kihyun” was the only thing that registers and it catches her attention for a split second. then her mind shifts once again. if he could do as he says, she wouldn’t complain.

the jaded warrior doesn’t flinch at one punch, another and still she doesn’t budge. he goes for a third, and a fourth, and adam’s words resonate in her mind. it is impossible. it feels impossible. she cannot be killed, not by this weak human being, not by anyone she knew. adam was her only hope but now he’s gone, too. she stands unprovoked, but there was still a chance. it was but a selfish act once again, but she was running dry on ideas. she couldn’t take it anymore. she intercepts an attack of this stranger, walking forward and him taking steps back until they were on the streets. with all the witnesses around, she severs his arm without a moment of hesitance.

the gasps come in unison. she looks around to see everyone looking at her, some dialing numbers on their phones, others screaming in horror. it was a deed that cannot be undone. she flees, just like she’s always done when trouble arises, even though she’s set on a purpose. back to the place she calls home, she sits solemnly, waiting for the expected visit and it doesn’t take long.

“so we meet again.”

death isn’t kind. arabella knew that. it snatched where it could, taking people who were far too young, far too good, far too deserving of a life. it didn’t pretend to care, it didn’t pretend to distinguish. the hooded vale of death had hung over the world for a long time, always threatening. it had never touched arabella quite so close. she never thought it would be possible. not when she’s given up years ago and she still stays where she is.

they say those who live fully is not afraid of death. yet despite all the centuries, she has not lived fully and she didn’t fear death. she feared not knowing whether the pain she’ll stand through would bring her what she had been ready for. she sees it as a foggy road that she has to pass to finally see the clearing. it is yet another path to walk, but who’s to stay it’ll be her last?

it was selfish of her to put him up to the task. living with the thought of the dead was hard enough, but being responsible for one was another. arabella knew it all too well. she had caused far more deaths than a graveyard can fill.

for treason, for heresy, for witchcraft, for being all that is evil; a capital punishment, this is what she deserves. back in her world, she would have taken a pouring of molten metal onto her, down her throat, into her ears. she would have taken being enclosed within metal contraptions subsequently heated. she would have taken boiling to death. auto-da-fé. everything that was painful. this was to atone for her sins.

lightheaded and feeling like the world is spinning, head throbbing against her skull. cold tendrils embrace her, vision fading, rattling gasps, breaths struggling to slip past bloodied lips. it was a steady progression, but it goes on fast. red with clear blisters, blanching with pressure. she could feel the pain seeping into layers of her skin. then there’s yellow along with discomfort, onto the full-thickness and suddenly the pain disappears. she feels nothing but stiffness. then little by little, it turns black and dry, charred with dark scabs. 

she deserves this.

she screamed her last screams, then like a silent yet faithful companion, she waited until she ebbs into the comforting folds of darkness.

i’m coming, everyone.

lights out. sweet dreams.

[yeolkeot]

050617.

[ instructions: you are to fill this out to the best of your ability. you are held accountable for the truth in the statements you answer. any falsified response results in improper assistance and is detrimental to your progress. if you understand please continue below. ]

Current record ( period gone since last incident such as fire or thinking about it ): eight days. Previous record ( the last period gone before the incident ): idk Item used ( either that triggered the thought or used after the thought ) : spray aerosol, gasoline, lighter. Item / object burned ( or thought about burning ): person. Cause ( whatever triggered the act or thought ): [ words were scratched out ]. Thoughts ( before the incident ): don’t remember Thoughts ( after the incident ): finally. Any pain? none. Any sadness and / or depressive thoughts? zero. Possible prevention ( what could you have done to avoid this incident? ): don’t know Next expected record ( after this incident how long do you expect to go again without another? ): i don’t know and I don’t fucking care Reason? i’m tired Additional comments? im not sorry i’m not sorry i don’t care i feel fine

[yeolkeot]

consilian:

SHE REMAINS UNAWARE OF the demons in his bloodstream pushing and pulling. the bad thing about having a friend like kihyun is that he never accepts help nor does he reach out to others: he shoves all of his demons deep into his heart and lets them stay there, allows for them to be nurtured and makes himself the host of something inexplicable. it can be a painful thing to watch when you can bring yourself to care for a brat like the boy, but at this time of the day, ahyeon figures she does not have the strength to use this to her advantage. she’s still tired, the sleep having been barely blinked away from her eyes.

all she’s saying is that if he can manage to show up in front of her dorm and pretend like nothing has ever happened, then she can go along with his type of reality.

the most blatant difference between her and kihyun lies in their respective personalities: he’s the type who has survived so much that he now thinks about himself first and foremost. it’s a sad way of living for someone like ahyeon who always puts others ahead of herself and this is where they clash: she wants to look out for him but he isn’t letting her. they fight, he disappears, appears again whenever he wants to and they both keep going. repeat. forget. repeat. it’s a vicious circle, really. she’s never sure how he keeps up with it.

“alright, alright. i’ll take it.” and she does, because its the only motivation she’s had to get out of bed when he asked her to. the cocoa feels warm as it runs down her throat and she grows quiet, looking at him expectantly like he holds the answers to the secrets of the world. the girl with the grey hair wonders what might be going through his head at the moment and why he has decided to show up on this day, of all days. if there’s a reason for his appearance because it’s not like he cares when he goes and she worries about him.

if she is his sister in another life, she’s sure she’d die from all the worry he inflicts upon her.

“where are we going anyway?” she questions, curiosity seeping into her voice the moment she decides to follow him. there’s someting odd about his whole demeanor, like he doesn’t want to be here but knows he has to anyway, as though their friendship’s a duty to him which he has to take care of. she wants to ask him about it but drops it before doing so. it would only lead to a conflict and she’s not awake enough yet to face an irritated kihyun.

“kihyun?” she follows him even when he doesn’t look, tries to hide her fatigue in order to keep the conversation going. “are you listening?”

recently and for reasons unknown to him, people have been transforming around kihyun. like lens finally opened or senses finally spilled and split and all sorts of fucked up. like for some reason he wasn’t seeing too clear and now he’s not seeing at all. because if he were to place someone in his eyes they’d send him to the doctor, he’s looking out a fucking kaleidoscope.

pretty as it sounds it’s actually fucking with his senses.

he’s used to signals in the corners of his mind, the red and the green and the occasional yellow. he’s used to the anger, the stop, go and the yield. he’s used to driving on this road clear and without concern and trusting his body as much as he despises it. but this, this is another level and it began the day someone began to bleed blue and pink. not on the skin, not as deep bruises that he knows better than air itself, but in the air, around them instead of on. soft instead of rough rough and peeled back. for a while the only black and blue he knew was beauty in blisters and now he knows it as beauty in a person.

at that time it was okay. at that time it was one person and he could handle it. not as overwhelming and not as harsh.

it’s not everything at once, as in all around his space, all in the corners of his eyes. nothing as harsh as that. but it’s a little like a light flashing in one part of his vision. blinding but not burning. blinding but confusing and pulling. it doesn’t happen as he’s walking, pulling himself together and willing his steps to remain light. if he steps light he stays light and the grip on his drink remains just that. he doesn’t have his phone to look to, or rather he doesn’t want to, it’s his way of preventing questions that are to come. but the questions will come because it’s ahyeon, it’s always ahyeon. and because it’s ahyeon it’s why for the first time he’s trying to hurry. 

see he’s got all these new senses coming in, from the moment she came downstairs to now. he’s getting bombarded and as if restraint wasn’t hard enough now he’s got this bubble. he could handle the blue from before, he could handle that because he sank into it when there was nothing else. but ahyeon shows up and yeah kihyun hasn’t seen her in a while but he doesn’t really see her this time. all the times he remembers her he doesn’t remember this. 

and this is, the same pink he used to clown, the same pink that’d spark endless and meaningless banter, now stumbles across his vision, attacking with a different ferocity than before. it’s why he walks ahead, too fast and too focused to let her keep up. it’s why he can’t really turn around the moment she asks and why he doesn’t want to. because ahyeon’s not showing the same. it’s not bad, it’s not alerting him, but suddenly he doesn't need to clench his fist around his cup and he doesn’t need to grit his teeth. and that? that’s weird. 

“we’re heading to the humanity research department where else?” so he tries to keep everything in check. his words, his task, his vision. all swimming and striking at once. he pokes through his phone once more, breathes and slows down so she can keep up. lets a little bit of whatever color she’s casting seep back into his vision. just a tad.

[yeolkeot]

( @loathism )

kihyun is, well for the most part he’s tired. he’s got aches as victories, all in new and right places and he’s got people trying to take them away. he wants to hold them all in, let them sink and live but everyone keeps pulling them. smiling and telling him it’ll be okay, yanking and yanking until he’s numb. telling him he’ll be fine but he knows he’ll be fine because he’s got the scars to prove it. prove he’s on top and he’s won. she’s gone. but no one listens and he’s got another needle up his arm before he can protest.

that’s when junki speaks. 

and kihyun tries to register this, tries to snap back but he gets one in before it hits.

one in before he’s left a little numb, just listening to junki rave on and lecture. sound like everyone he’s talked to the past few days, all in one. a condensed kind of replay, all affecting him just the same. kihyun’s annoyed, he’s annoyed but he’s tired and he doesn’t have enough in him to speak against it. about how he’s grateful he’s here. about how he doesn’t have as much as people thinks and how whenever he gets it he tries to destroy it. family, friends, life. how he can’t hold onto it like people tell him to. so much he wants to say, explain to everyone who doesn’t listen and he’s tired. tired and he just sighs into the phone, audible and childishly to get his point across.

“hyung, I didn’t ask you to worry about me.” maybe the only thing he can get off his chest isn’t the annoyance but some form of apology. small and in wisps against the phone. from his body, limp and heavy against the sheets. “ ‘m fine. just a few bruises an’ stuff. more than fine alright so just....just chill. ’snot that bad. should be out in a week and a half or something.” even if junki did come they might send him back. they’ve been sending everyone back.

one more drip and they’ll start letting people in. one more jump that’s not much of a jump, more of a numb and people get to see him. when he’s light and not as heavy, when he can’t feel the burn he wants and just the air in his body. they’re trying to press out all the anger is what his mom says.

“all they give is hospital food, save meeeee. can’t feel my arms save meeeeeeee.” what he finally gets out is a little less him and more of what they want. maybe junki will catch on, maybe he won’t. “feel like 20 balloons right now.”

[yeolkeot]

consilian:

THE THING ABOUT DEMANDS IS that they don’t bode well with a person like ahyeon; while usually a kind girl, there’s a line that shouldn’t be crossed. funnily (read: ironically) enough, kihyun is the type of person to frequently cross that line and push ahyeon’s buttons      they work like a pair of uneven siblings and if she’s the one who has learned the hard way to consider someone else’s feelings prior to acting on her gut instinct, then he’s he one who acts before he thinks. perhaps that’s why they can stand being around each other for the most part because if that understanding isn’t there, they’d just be at each other’s throats nonstop. and for those that now think oh, what a sight to behold!     it’s not.

in fact she thinks it’d be much uglier than either of them would be willing to let on. maybe kihyun knows how to hold back when he really needs to but the boy has no filter and gentleness is an adjective which isn’t included in his vocabulary. yes, deep down he isn’t bad but at the same time that doesn’t mean she always feels safe around him, in spite of the fact that they’re friends. is that normal, to be afraid of a friend? to fear what might come because of him being so very unpredictable? she supposes not but it’s how they work. and maybe they push each other a little too often but it’s all done without spite (for the most part).

she’d never bring up a topic that could hurt him, though she isn’t sure he’d even notice.

blinking away the sleep in her eyes, she rolls out of bed in order to step closer to the window so she can look out for the familiar frame of the boy. he looks tired (who wouldn’t at this time of the day, she figures) and a little lost in thoughts, though she isn’t able to place why. so instead of mulling over his actions, as she’s so prone to do, ahyeon simply shrugs her shoulders and makes sure to open the window (she’s sure he’ll notice and stop bombarding her with text messages) before turning around to go to the bathroom in order to prepare herself for whatever adventure he plans to shove her into.

( sms: dwarf king ) don’t be a crybaby, i need ten minutes and then i’ll come down. ( sms: dwarf king ) why’re you even waiting outside??? ah i forgot, you pissed off jiyeon the last time you were here. otherwise you could’ve waited inside… where it’s warm. :P

it takes her less than ten minutes to brush her teeth, throw on some clothes and shoes and lock the door behind her, before she finds herself standing in front of the boy in question outside her own dorm, eyes suspiciously eyeing the warm cup he’s almost innocently holding out to her.

“did you spit in there, kihyun? i swear i’ll dump your dead body in a river if you did.”

the thing about this patience is it makes him extremely aware, it’s a pinch that’s too apparent. the pinch to his senses, every move and every motion around him. he’s open and he’s fidgeting in his shoes. it’s not noticeable but he feels it as clear as day. because no matter how much he simmers and stops boiling he’s still got it sitting in and not out and it makes him fidget, not openly but enough for him to scrunch up his face, turn his head at every noise and every person passing. on a college campus people can just pass it off as kihyun being wired, and no one is concerned about wired on what.

and what is it exactly. the adrenaline, the pull, the tug on his insides. sounds like a pretty shitty thing to be wired on.

he tries to keep it at bay though, tries not to look like he’s completely lost his wits, even if this feels weird. the waiting, the controlled movements. how he still hasn’t moved, except for his head lifting to look up at her window. then back at the person exiting the door, then back at his phone. small pricks, sharp and organizing his movements into do’s and don’ts. don’t jump. don’t flinch. don’t turn don’t snap don’t snap do not snap. it’s harder than it seems but easier in practice. 

ahyeon’s figure isn’t much of a comfort and the words appearing on his screen don’t help either. well, they do something more than that. they pull forth exactly what he keeps at bay. it’s not on purpose but this is what they are. a lion trying to stay vegetarian and a gazelle running past it. for whatever reason kihun trying to stay vegetarian and keep from tearing apart all the relationships around him. doesn’t matter if he’s not something as big and menacing as a lion there’s something about the survival technique that resonates more with him than anything else.

ahyeon doesn’t do it on purpose and he doesn’t either. acts like it and says it but that’s not what it is. it’s instinct and if he thought about changing it ( like he thinks now ) he might. so he bites the inside of his cheek. bites and bites and tries to taste blood and keep his lips from yelling what he thinks, doing what it thinks he wants. he’s all restraint and it kills, bores in like chains but it’s better this way.

ahyeon’s joking, joking and pulling without knowing that by the time she appears in front of him he can taste the blood and swallow. swallow pride and venom as he holds the cup out first.

“either you take it or not, it’s nothing against me if you don’t. just I’ll have something to drink and you won’t. anyway let’s go we’ll be late.”

[yeolkeot]

clementide:

( kkt // 기현이♥ ) you’re just biased!! > and everything is prettier when you’re loopy > ㅎㅎ yeah? > okay but don’t regret it later

( kkt // 지은 누나♥) so? - noooooo bc 1 - im not loopy - two! - these docs dnt look pretty to me - no regrts!!!

[yeolkeot]

clementide:

( kkt // 기현이♥ ) have you even seen her before?? ( kkt // 기현이♥ ) i can’t believe you’re high as fuck and still managing to diss his girl ( kkt // 기현이♥ ) ㅋㅋㅋ really amazing, jang kihyun  ( kkt // 기현이♥ ) and really sweet  ( kkt // 기현이♥ ) but tell me more, this is fun

( kkt // 지은 누나♥) yes - i’m not dissng!!!! - i just think he’s acting like he - sn nevr seen you before????????? - tell you what? - welcome 2 the kihyun ask boot h