#𝒚𝒐𝒖. 𝒋𝒐𝒌𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒐 𝒎𝒚 𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒆𝒚. 𝒄𝒍𝒚𝒅𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒎𝒚 𝒃𝒐𝒏𝒏𝒊𝒆. ── quinn & taiyang.

[uroborosymphony]

   Flamingos.

   2023, May. Ara's reminiscence of a gentle past, of love and friendship with @velvetineblue and @ofgentleresolve.

I was in his arms that day, in the evening, in the smallness of my college dorm room. Not the palace of my dreams yet I cannot prevent myself from smiling at the thought of these small yet somehow warm walls. I believe I've never truly been at home before meeting him, hence every single corner of earth we ever shared became Home, he is my Home. His fingers were running down the skin of my exposed shoulders, arms and palms as he was adoring every single inch of it, tender. It was in the late June, the windows open on a gentle night, a gentle breeze. He was smelling of summer and gasoline, after he left the boys behind, them causing havoc in the south of the city while he was here, giving me a little piece of the heaven he was. How was your day. He questionned, in a voice that was made of honey, deep and calming and loving and caring. My days were easily influenced by my swings, of moods and needs and rages and angers, even back in the days I was a little unstable like that. Hard to handle, not truly liked by many. It was harder to carry however, as I was lacking the maturity to simply let it go, let it flow, to consider myself above childish quarrels and wars, ones I was even starting against the other students looking down on me the way they do. Often I was getting disciplined, which was multiplying my hunger for more battles. I did not want anybody to control me, anybody to tell me what to do. You will be a brillant doctor Jung, but that attitude will cost you a lot. Would say one of these professors who liked my story, admired the fact I was from a dirty side of the road yet was fighting for a better life, wanted to help me.

"Tai. I think I have... a friend?"

My words came out as a confused confession, the type that comes in a gigglish voice, the type a young girl would make at the simple thought of finally connecting with someone in a hostile environment. I had friends, more or less, Taiyang's became mine, adopting me in their tribe, respecting me as his woman, his new sidekick for life, the one they would whistle him about when he would kiss me on his motorcycle. The young girls at the orphanage I was keeping an eye on, they were my friends as well, in a way, or perhaps little sisters under my care. I did not truly have a friend of my own, a friend to link arms with, a friend to share a melting ice cream with under the August sun, until I met her. "Mmmm, should I be a little jealous here?" He joked, catching the giddy smile on my lips, his index finger pushing my chin up as I was looking at him above my shoulder, my head pressed against his chest. I laughed out loud, the crescents of my eyes slowly folding. "Don't be silly," I said, perhaps a little enable to control this innocent joy of mine slipping through my grin. "But yeah, maybe you should," I replied with on a teasing tone causing him to laugh as well and lovingly bite a piece of my ear.

"Her name is Annie."

Her name was Annie. A girl from abroad. Our paths crossed a little early in the year and kept on crossing over and over again until we sit side by side, on the daily, down the library's outdoor stairs. A transfer student always attracts the attention, like a prey, regular students being the predators seeking new faces, new blood and new companionships. I never truly understood that, this need for something new, something fresh, something different like a source of entertainment and routine escapism. Perhaps I am a flamingo then, a creature that mates for life. I do believe there will only be a few presences in my life, a few ones I give a place to in my intimacy, in my heart, in my life, just them. Them, I wouldn't need more. My eyes crossing Taiyang's in 2013, I knew I loved him in all my lifetimes, has died and would die all over again for him as the universes will keep on bringing us back together. Hearing Annie's voice in 2018, I knew I wanted her to be my friend and that she would always be, no matter the countries, no matter the years that later would come in between us. I happened to be surprisingly shy during our first conversations with her. The type of shyness that screamed how much I wanted to ask her to perhaps go shopping with me, ane share a bubble tea in the grass while talking about little nothings. He smiled when I tell him all that, that type of warm smile I bask into, that type of warm smile that he always gives me. I feel a little silly, being a grown enough woman asking him if it's strange to give one of my bracelets to Annie on the day she will go back to America. He presses a kiss against my temple, he calls me lovely. The way he adores me makes him believe everyone else would adore me just as much. Perhaps what was the most foreign to me was this feeling, this feeling of belonging, this feeling of letting your guards down when finally, finally, you find the ones to make you smile, the ones to make you feel safe like I've never felt safe before, when finally, you find your flamingos.

[uroborosymphony]

My Valentine,

I will, from my veins, write these words of blood to you. How much I love you.

This isn't just love it goes beyond.

Obsession. I'm obsessed with you. With the sound of your voice in the core of my ear, my name rolling on your tongue, your touch down my back and loins, I feel you, deep, carved under my skin. You are my sun. Through years of a past of misery, of struggle and pain, you are my light. And I remember these hopeless nights begging for Gods to see me and they did, they made us find each other.

I often dream of this world, this perfect world we want to build after burning this one to the ground and I can touch it, at the edge of my fingertips dancing down your chest on a silent sunday morning, at the edge of yours dancing down the lines of my neck in the palm of our forbidden heavens, I feel it. Your heart beating for me as your lips lace with mine, I feel them. These unverses we have built together to keep each other safe, I live in them.

Sun to my Moon. Joker to my Quinn. Clyde to my Bonnie.

I would kill for you. I would let the blood pour and pour until there is nothing left but you and I.

Do you rememeber? I will always. Every single moment with you, I remember. Even when my mind is stirred up and down even when madness is watching over me, it's only you I remember.

I adore you. I adore you. I adore you. I adore you. I adore you. I adore you. I adore you. I adore you. I adore you. I adore you. I adore you. I adore you. I adore you. I adore you. I adore you.

I adore you.

I am losing my mind. I know I am. And I will spiral and spiral indefinitely, I will let it happen, I will let it take me whole, I'm not scared. With your arms around me, your soul within mine, I'm fearless.

You are my strength. My World.

You, My Everything.

⠀⠀⠀⠀A letter to @velvetineblue. From Ara.

⠀

[uroborosymphony]

Talk about Tai

"About Taiyang?

You want to watch me getting this giddy, don't you.

Believe it or not, it is to this day the easiest yet the hardest thing for me to do. Easiest as I could talk about him every day, through every breath I take. Hardest as I realize there is so little words can do, the connexion between our soul goes beyond anything one can describe. I cannot remember my life before him, without him, as if I only started existing once our paths crossed again. Again I say, as the moment our eyes connected I could feel it in my bone, I have been living and dying for this man in every single lifetime. His smile, his touch, his voice in my ear, his arms around me : He is my home, he is my family. He makes me grow, he makes me evolve, he make me laugh, he makes me dance, he makes me sing, he makes me cum, fuck he makes me live. I only look at my own reflection through his eyes you know, these eyes filled with so much care and love and gentleness he has for me. There is this good inside of him he pours into the world around him, protection, safety, selflessness, he looks after the ones dear to him, the ones who did not have the chance to be loved and protected. Him and I, we're going to change the world. Into a better place, into the type of place we wished we grew up in. He always speaks of me as this undestroyable warrior goddess he thinks of me as. I feel like my days are numbered, that little by little, my sanity is escaping from my grip and that he is the only reason why I haven't lost it yet. He is my rock. He is my world. I would kill for him."

[uroborosymphony]

"Mmm I do, I do have you, I have all of you." A whisper on her lips, that type of gentle content blissful whisper that rolls ff her tongue anytime his lips land down the porcelain of her neck, any time he keeps her body warmly pressed against his the way he does. No matter where she was, his arms would always be her self place, her heaven. And he makes her laugh at the mention of Santa's naughty list. It was a beautiful sacrifice she always thought, embracing this life as a vigilante with him meant tainting their own hands with blood in order to better the world around them, to step in the dirt for the greater good, a scale on which they were sitting, swinging, playing between a deep seek for justice and a rising thirst for power. "Would you be anywhere else than on that naughty list with me? I feel like that is exactly where I want to keep on watching you using these knives of yours, until it's my turn to show you what I can do with these." An amused tone, a playful, seductive one even as he was now holding the tool and as her finger traveled from his arm to his wrist, as her body was slowly turning here and there, trapped in between his hips and the counter. Mentionning his oh so terrible cooking skills brought another laughter out of her, as she gave him space to perform his art of chopping cabbages and pepperbells, watching from the corner of her eyes while she was taking care of the meat. He indeed cost them a few dinners : a couple times he tried to cook for her back in the days and turned the experience into a disaster - of course she still ate the burnt meals but Oh how did they laugh admitting it was terrible. Pyromanic tendencies - he said. Fire always fascinated her. Whenever her eyes were losing themselves into the flames of candles, or finding both peace and devastation in these summer fires at the other side of the city, the goosebumps, the fever.

The vegetables once cut were colorful, tossed into the pan and crisping into the heat. Ara mixed them with the pre seasoned beef, the sesame and ginger homemade sauce along with a pinch of honey. There it was. The typical smell of their holiday meal, warm and exotic, embalming the coziness of their walls. The living room was adjacent to the open kitchen, a sofa close to a low table facing the television. There was little close to no space yet, after years of living in a confined space, it ended up more comfortable than crowded, her medical books on an old bookshelf they saved from abandonment, secret boxes of trophies from their heists, a little bit of a mess of items and goodies and clothes in the corner. The meal was disposed on the table, the baozi, the bulgogi, the japchae, the dumplings, as their steps lead them to travel from one space to another, placing each dish down the wood, making space for glasses and alcohol and more. His question came as she sat down by his side. Even though he did want to focus on the two of them for the night, the shadows of the changing climate of the underground scene were perpetually dancing above their own. Her eyes were on his features then, the corner of her lips turning into an amused smirk. "Would you still love me if I was a spider? A little shit running around in the streets the way they do? Making a mess? Would you come and lock me up?" She questionned the finger of her tip pushing his chin slightly up, their eyes connecting, joking, playing. His question was one to dive into however, the interaction she shared with Lee. Black Fang. Tai knew her, by heart, he knew how her mind was constantly processing the matter.

"Lee was questionning me about my opinions and my theories about the Spiders, he simply knew I had one. Mmm I always do." She started. "Isn't it odd, I asked him, that this is the third case of small meaningless little gangs, with no origin nor purpose that simply appears out of the shadows to cause ruckus? Before the Spiders, what was it... The Hoods, wasn't it? Small jewerly heists spread through the city until we stop hearing about their existence in a snap. Then followed the Jaguars, ridiculous cases of mobbing that also ceased, vanished out of thin air after being talked about in the media once?" As she was exposing her theory, the lines above her face naturally were frowning and bending as if she was replaying the map she has started drawing inside her own head, like a puzzle she wanted to solve. "Since the scene have gone this messy we don’t hear of the bigger names anymore. What if... what if it was all a distraction, a smoke show? For the entire scene to look away, for the authorities to look away? Something is going on, I can sense it." There was intensity in her eyes, that intensity burning the way her dear flames always do. And the distance is closed in between them, her hands now slipping up to seize his jaw. "We could solve this. I see it, Taiyang. I see it all. What we could do... With more resources. With Black Fang." She said it. The words. The suggestion of an alliance, the suggestion of drowning into what was offered to them. "We could take care of it all. Cleaning. Cleansing the streets while solving what’s behind this masquerade. The new beginning won't just be our new place, my love, it could be us finally changing it all, for real." Although Ara knew it wasn't simply a matter of strategy and business for him, she knew the wound came from deeper regarding his father. And so a silence came in between her words, her eyes, marked with emotion still linked with his. " You're not your father. You hear me? You will never be him, no matter what position you take, what title you accept." Her last words rolled out of the tip of her tongue as her forehead locked with his. She knew that accepting to join Black Fang and associating with them meant sealing him as successor on Seoul’s lands like his father wanted. "You hear me? You will never be him." Her fingertips were now brushing his temples as if her voice became a spell and her eyes called for hypnosis. "You will be better, My Prince, you will be the man he couldn't be for you, for the gang, for the city, for your family. Can you imagine what you could achieve with this power, this influence, with men ready to die under your word? They would follow your voice, our voices, and help us shape the world we want. Harder. Faster. For that we could just play pretend. We're good at that aren't we? Masks on long enough for them to believe we want the same things as they do and then little by little, we could twist it all. It will all play by our rules. Our game."