#clementide

[jaiette]

maritime mother and magical moppet ✨🐠🦌

[haruusari]

운명 따위 없다는 걸 알고있지만,

he had seen her, first, in january.

the exhibit had been lame and yoonjung had ditched him last minute for a date that promised to end in sex, rather than shared cigarettes in haru’s shitty studio apartment. he hadn’t blamed her. a part of him had been in the middle of wishing he had chosen sex over the exhibit, too (christ, it had been boring) -- when he saw her.

he saw her.

(he would draw her, days later. paint her, sketch her, mold her. a face frozen in shock. soft hair, pale thighs, pink knees. flowers in her arms. a sculpture in front of her that meant nothing, because she was the most breathtaking piece of art in that entire gallery that night. nabi, you came! haru remembered hearing a voice greet her. but how could you do this to me? he had listened to her cry in the stairwell.)

he sees her, again, tonight.

like fate. like a vision. 

she’s alone and she isn’t crying, and she’s all the more beautiful for it. but haru knows he ought to walk away. haru knows there’s no such thing as fate. haru knows --

“are you here with anyone?” he asks, despite himself. motions at the empty seat beside her. lets his gaze drop briefly to her wet mouth. her glass is almost empty. “is this seat taken?”

@clementide

[provlematic]

5/24: dusk.

@clementide

on those rusty 6th street apartment walls across the block, you see the new york city’s own blue named 4am, daybreak. 

the city’s asleep but the gleam in your eyes still brightens our tiny one-room (ours? ours. anything mine is yours.) they look like they’re about to spill a whole past-life story about how you held the sky in your eyes, chest, and then in your pale set of hands before you met me. you wear that amaranthine color on your lips religiously since the day i told you you look breathtaking in it. so you still do, even when i can’t see them under the dim moonlight. then you’re autumn itself with the baltic amber scent of a handmade candle you bought somewhere on 26th street.

-aiden. -hm? -sometimes, i wish i met you somewhere else. -huh. like where– seoul? -maybe, yeah.

then maybe i wouldn’t feel so up in the air every time i’m looking at you like this. i blink at your sudden confession and wonder if it’s okay to interpret them the way i did. then i intuitively, tactfully, turn a blind eye.

this is to say—that i am the most cowardly person in this eventide; yet you still reload the pistol for me to shoot in the dark.

-...sol, are you homesick?

no, aiden—i feel just fine, here with you.

dusk, (dawn & before-sunset). | @clementide

[whitelai]

@clementide​

it’s been hell of a night.

or at least that’s what he speculates, with this hotel-room spectacle in his current range: disarray of clothes on the floor, bunch of half-burnt cigarette butts (mindfully placed in the ashtray, at least,) unknown liquid patches still damp and drying on the carpet (he prays to satan that those are just spilt alcohol,) and some girl lying next to him on the bed, still asleep and sound.

shit, shit, shit.

when he finds himself shirtless, he immediately flutters the bedspread up to check if the bottom half of his clothing are still intact. thank fucking god. then he exhales a relieved breath of whatever he’s been doubting himself of, his finger tracing along his forehead to mind the ringing headache.

“what the fuck? what the fuck.”

is all he can muster up in a stage-whisper, hands now on sides of his head as he takes another glance at this sleeping beauty on the right. it takes him no more than a single filter of his thought process before he bends down, brushing her unkempt strokes of hair away to take a better look at who the hell she is. it’s almost embarrassing when her eyes suddenly flutter open (might he add, the most spine-chilling moment of his life–) and has him hold back an unseemly yelp before jolting back with a grimace. a grimace of disbelief.

here’s the thing: he’s never really ended up unconscious in the middle of his stealing-sprees, and for once is really, really taken aback. or at least that’s his excuse to his broken disposition of a oh-so-cavalier swinger, taking in the fact that she’s the same girl that basically drugged him last night.

and there goes his self-pride. girls were there to use, not fuck.

god damn it, july.

“...don’t fuckin’ tell me–”

[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.

[vlinderknife-blog]

@clementide​ // 2011: daniel wipes red lipstick from his sleeve, rubbing it impatiently while gentle hands nitpick at him back from under the sheets. writing her letters about the taste of peanut butter in a mix of english and awkward hangul lettering and her replying back with little flowers drawn on the edges of each paper. now, she lets her fingers wander over the roses on his arms, tracing the lines, leaving a slight tickle behind. they communicate through eyes more than with their mouths, because jieun is awful at english and daniel’s korean is still just as horrendous. meeting her father had been quite a hassle, considering the angry tones and tense atmosphere he had witnessed. he could even transcribe words like ‘백인’ and ‘안돼’ thrown somewhere in the mix.

jieun disappears for a few weeks, completely unreachable. he feels even more lost in the city than ever before, and then suddenly she stands there, right by his door. she doesn’t even knock, she just calls for him in her stuttering attempt to make his name sound as authentic as possible. daniel prefers her choppy way of saying it, diving his name into three parts which she swallows in every breath. she tastes like marmalade in the morning, and like cheap soju in the evening. now she tastes like a charming yet tangy combination of both. “아버지는?” he announces in with a confused look on his face. jieun just smiles and shakes her head, sits him back onto the bed. “상관없어.” she tells in the most confident voice she can muster. it’s not completely the truth, but true enough.

daniel goes back through the recent vocabulary he’s learned and deems that he’s understood what she’s said. he bites a piece of toast, chews it silently as he hands her a cup of coffee. she looks at him, questioning whatever is in the cup. a sniff, and she places it back onto the table, grabbing his hand instead, playing a game of only fingertips touching. 

“i have to go back to melbourne soon. 조금 후에 다시 ...” the words are slow, articulated in an exaggerated manner. his facial expression changes and time seems to stop. she looks at him with furrowed brows, some type of anger or confusion. “싫어.” a firm no. her hands are now kept to herself, she hides them under the table and corrects her collar as if that’s going to change things. they sit in silence eating breakfast that jieun isn’t used to nor seems to enjoy all that much. this time, he reaches out for her hand, placing a soft kiss on it. it leaves a bleak mark of lipstick behind (barely even red anymore), and her lips barely have any color left from being transferred. he can see her thoughts running wild, trying to make as short sentences as possible to make him understand. a sigh, and admittance of defeat. “빨리 와.”

[bcylost-blog]

// * @clementide

( and he speaks! : ) it’s one of those days. there’s that one crack on the road that is just so damn persistent on tripping you over, a lady that you’ve accidentally bumped into with some serious anger management issues, and a pigeon shit that conveniently falls down, right on your shoulder. just when you think things can’t get any worse, you know? but inwoo can’t really decide which type of a bad-day is less of a mess in terms of normal-type of bad or inwoo-type of bad. ‘cause if you’ve at least read about him, he sees these things that really convinces those around him that he’s mad. mad as in crazy, mad as in a lunatic, and mad as in do-not-approach-this-kid-who-talks-to-nobody!

          so in the morning, he wakes up to his virgin ghost who apparently can’t ascend to heaven (but surprise! he doesn’t even believe in heaven and hell,) because she’s just so full of spite that she’s never been fucked by a dude. and with that, he thinks, what the hell do you want me to do? he ain’t about fucking some she-ghost, and barely manages to brushes her off by striding out of his apartment with a repeated ‘go-away’s’ and a shove at her face. few minutes after, just when he gets his iced americano for the day, he gets a little boo! from a dude who died from construction work. and no, not any kind of construction worker, one that has his head barely hanging onto his neck because a debris from the accident cut off about 3/4 of it. some grotesque shit, i know, and it was enough to have him squish his cup out of a manly shriek, splashing that ice cold drink all over his new shirt. grimy. great.

         after some more annoyed swatting at more ghosts (or to you, the air,) he’s finally walking towards his friend he’s supposed to have the day with. when jieun glances at his soiled shirt, he explains that he got spooked by a ghost — and she laughs it off. a shrug, and he laughs along — because what else can he say? believe-it-or-not, at best. patting down his half-dried shirt in stripes, he clicks his tongue. “yeah dude, and he was like... tellin’ me that he has to scoop his head back up to place it back on his neck every time, some rad shit. anyway — what’s up? any crazy life updates on your side?”

[theoutcall]

had feelings for someone whom you can’t have? guilty. / explainz

I hate you for making me explain this

Okay, so. Minjae has never been in love. Habitually, reflexively, automatically-- he tries to take care of people. He tries to mold himself to fit the tiny cracks people have acquired from their lives. He nurtures. He pleases. He appeases. He tries to fix. That’s what he does, that’s what he’s learned to do, that’s how he’s survived, that’s how he’s always lived. Becoming someone else, being the version people need. 

His mother loved him, but it was suffocating, critical love, and she took care of herself before she took care of anyone else. But Minjae has never witnessed a stable or normal or healthy relationship. He grew up in unstable circumstances & his views on love are very skewed. Not to mention he’s a prostitute & he deals with people who are married, in stable relationships, and still coming to him for sex. what-is-love.mp3

and yet, he’s a romantic. He develops feelings for people very easily. He feels so much about everything and falls into intervals of depression. and yet there’s the part of him that’s very grounded in cynicism even if he wants to be optimistic & is to a degree. he has witnessed terrible things, is the last person you would want to be in a relationship with. and he knows what’s he capable of, that he fucks up, that he has these commitment issues and abnormal view on relationships. 

so he has feelings for someone, and it’s not that he can’t have them. it’s that he won’t try to because every single relationship he’s ever witnessed and been a part of has never lasted. so he simply lives, and accepts what he’s done with his life and the fact he could not even think of bringing someone into that life and expect them to give that much. his mother only ever took, and he’s not his mother. 

[neurites]

“okay, you’re going to have to not touch my ass.”

100+ friends starter sentences / (x)

he’s bordering somewhere between sleep and consciousness, body instinctively seeking warmth when he notes the subtle dip in the mattress. her words are vaguely registered in his lethargic wakefulness, his only response a muffled grunt against bunched up sheets when he feels her eyes boring into him.   

“jungkook.”

grunt.

“i need to study.”

a sigh then, and it sounds a little resentful when he opens his eyes with furrowed brows, downward slant in his lips. she’s on her stomach, propped on elbows, books and utensils arranged in front of her. a quick glance down to where his hand lays curled against her hip confirms he’s trespassed forbidden territory during study sessions. “wasn’t me.” is his nonsensical answer, words slurred; doesn’t remember how his hand got there, anyway. it’s become some sort of a conditioned routine now.“yah.”“–okay.” jungkook says, lie conspicuous in his reply when his hand remains unbudged, impish gaze flitting back to pouting lips when she lets out a huff, clearly frustrated. he bypasses an impending laugh, opts for the shift in atmosphere when it slips into a quiet lull instead. her room, bathed in the subdued glow of a cloudy day, is strangely pacifying; rain a gentle pit-a-pat against the window screen, something akin to the stuttering pulse his veins. this is how it starts, purposeful gaze, muted prickling in the tips of his fingers, and a heated thrum against skin—“–don’t.” she blocks his vision, palm loosely covering his eyes. he laughs this time, gives her a solid two seconds to breathe before he’s rolling her over just as quick, arms a constricting coil as he settles against the soft line of her body. he ignores her half-hearted noise of dissent, a mix between a whine and muffled laugh just beneath his shoulder, peppering closed-mouthed kisses down the side of her face instead; a sloppy descent into the junction of her neck and shoulder as she squirms against his chest.“you’re suffocating me,” she sounds a little short of breath, fingers curling into his shirt.“i know,” jungkook says, only shifting to submerge, to sink a little further against her frame. even like this, bodies so tightly wound together, it’s never been enough -  "just, need five minutes.“

[daerein-blog]

{ @clementide

        “IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII’M,” right now, “coming home, coming home, yeah”  is not the best time to be singing. Daewon would argue that any time is a good time to sing an Ailee song, especially a new single that in his opinion was the best song of 2016. “달려갈게 네게로,” yet here he is, “I’M” belting the lyrics to the song while standing outside the library, “coming home all aloooone,” acting like no one’s going to call him out for his terribly off-key voice. Acting like there are no college students trying to study. Acting like his voice can’t penetrate the windows that may or may not be cracked. Daewon knows earphones make a person sing louder, more obnoxiously but it’s Ailee and he can’t bring himself to care. He’s midway into the end of the chorus, a part where he’s practically perfected the run that she does, “하지만-----” when a yell startles him.

[jaiette]

cailla and clementide ✨🐠🦌

[leefall]

all bbyboo

text memes : closed

anythin for my boo :~) 

Send “✆” for a MORNING text.

[ kkt: 지은누나 ] ⇢ 지금 그ㄱㅔ 중요한게 아니에여ㅑㅇ

[ kkt: 지은누나 ]  ⇢ 저 알람 못 들었어요 30분이나 

[ kkt: 지은누나 ]  ⇢ 나중에 연락할ㄱ께여 잠깐ㅁ나ㅠㅠㅠ

Send “✉” for a text that WASN’T SENT.

[ kkt: 지은누나 ]  ⇢ 아니…. 누나……바나나말고 딸기라니깐여….,,,,

Send “✆” for a RUSHED text.

[ kkt: 지은누나 ]  ⇢ 지금 혹시 화장실에 있어요???

[ kkt: 지은누나 ]  ⇢ 아나 이거 빨리 배달하고 가야되는데

[ kkt: 지은누나 ]  ⇢ 뭐 하는거에여 안에서ㅠㅠㅠㅠ

[ kkt: 지은누나 ]  ⇢ 문 앞에다 그냥 두고 간ㄷ요

[ kkt: 지은누나 ]  ⇢ 죽은건 아니길 바랄께요 연락줘요

Send “⁇” for a DRUNK text.

[ kkt: 지은누나 ]  ⇢ ㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅏㅈㄹㄷ

[ kkt: 지은누나 ]  ⇢ 생수병에 갇혀있는 물들…. 너무 불쌍해ㅐ여….

[ kkt: 지은누나 ]  ⇢ 바다 가서 놓아 줘ㅇ ㅑ하지 않을까……..

[ kkt: 지은누나 ]  ⇢ 불쌍ㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠ너무 부ㄹ쌍해

Send “✿” for a SUGGESTIVE text.

[ kkt: 지은누나 ]  ⇢ 누나 배달땜에 이 야밤에 저 부르는거 아니죠?

[ kkt: 지은누나 ]  ⇢ 에이

[ kkt: 지은누나 ]  ⇢ 다 핑계면서

Send “ø” for a LATE NIGHT text.

[ kkt: 지은누나 ]  ⇢ 누나나 얼른 자요

[ kkt: 지은누나 ]  ⇢ 전 또 잠 안오네요

Send “✘” for a HATEFUL text.

[ kkt: 지은누나 ]  ⇢ 어떻게 나랑 태형이랑 헷갈릴수가 있어요

[ kkt: 지은누나 ]  ⇢ 내가 그렇게 범생이같이 생겼나….

Send “#” for a RANDOM text.

[ kkt: 지은누나 ]  ⇢ 사진

[ kkt: 지은누나 ]  ⇢ 할아버지네 놀러왔어요 

[ kkt: 지은누나 ]  ⇢ 강아지 귀엽죠? ㅋㅋ

Send “@” for a SCARED text.

[ kkt: 지은누나 ]  ⇢ 아니 영화가 무서웠던게 아니라

[ kkt: 지은누나 ]  ⇢ 그냥 기분 나쁜정도??

[ kkt: 지은누나 ]  ⇢ 진짜로

[ kkt: 지은누나 ]  ⇢ 그래서 말인데 누나 지금 저랑 카페나 안갈래요

[ kkt: 지은누나 ]  ⇢ 24시간 하는 카페있어여…..

Send “&” for a LOVING text.

[ kkt: 지은누나 ]  ⇢ 음…

[ kkt: 지은누나 ]  ⇢ 맞아요

[ kkt: 지은누나 ]  ⇢ 솔직히 전 누나 밖에 없어요

[ kkt: 지은누나 ]  ⇢ 제 투정 아닌 투정 다 받아주는거 말이에요

[ kkt: 지은누나 ]  ⇢ 고마워요 진짜

Send “%” for a CURIOUS text.

[ kkt: 지은누나 ]  ⇢ ??? 대박

[ kkt: 지은누나 ]  ⇢ 누나 설마 남친 생김??????

Send “ツ” for an EXCITED text.

[ kkt: 지은누나 ]  ⇢ 아니에요

[ kkt: 지은누나 ]  ⇢ 오늘은 제가 밥 살께요 ㅋㅋ 월급 받았어요 것도 보너스로

Send “$” for an ACCIDENTAL text.

[ kkt: 지은누나 ]  ⇢ 꺼져 병신아 너나 쳐 가

[ kkt: 지은누나 ]  ⇢ 이 형이 좀 많이 바쁘다

[ kkt: 지은누나 ]  ⇢ ….헐

[ kkt: 지은누나 ]  ⇢ 죄송해요 잘못보냈어요ㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅈㅅㅈㅅ

Send “♀” for a HEARTBREAKING text.

[ kkt: 지은누나 ]  ⇢ 전 그냥 그 정도인 놈인가봐요

[ kkt: 지은누나 ]  ⇢ 걔가 무슨 잘못이있겠어요

[ kkt: 지은누나 ]  ⇢ 다 내가 못나서 그래요

[ kkt: 지은누나 ]  ⇢ 괜찮아요

[ kkt: 지은누나 ]  ⇢ 걔 때문에 아픈거면 괜찮아요. 

[provlematic]

NESW (도착지:너)

이번 생엔 너가 나를 찾았어.

우리가 어디에서 어떻게 존재 하던 우리 둘은 서로를 찾게 돼. (맞아, 우연이 아니야. 우연이라기에 너의 미소는 언제나 한결같고 영원히 머금을수 있는 진정제 같아.) 내가 태어나지 않았을때 부터 널 알고있었던것 같이 넌 그렇게 미소 지어. 알아, 뭔가 조잡하고 엉성한 운명에 대한 이야기 같단걸.

근데 말이야, 넌 초월적인 힘이란걸 믿어?

-응, 넌 안 믿어? -난 잘 모르겠는데. -왜? -그렇다면 우리가 여기서 이러고 있을까. 너무 볼품 없는거 아니야, 우리? -우리가 뭐 어때서?

우리가 뭐 어때서. 그렇게 말하면서 나를 바라보는 너의 눈동자는 잠잠한 밤 아래의 호수 같아. 별들을 담고 있지만 그래도 흔들려서 반영이 흐려. 근데 그 빛 만은 확실해. 넌 여전히 나보다 당당하고 확신에 차 있어. 우리가 어떻게 삶을 살던, 어떻게 하루를 보내던, 딴 사람들이 우리를 어떻게 생각하던 너는 전혀 상관하지 않아. 그러면 난 또 그런 너의 태도에 위로를 받고. 또,

이기적 이게 다시 한번 너를 내 가슴 한 언저리에 담아. (너가 허락한거야, 알지?)

-...그러게, 맞네. 우리가 뭐 어때서. -그래, 맞아. -뭐가 그렇게 뻔뻔하냐, 이지은.

내가 푸스스 웃으니까 너도 웃어. 맞아, 생각 났어. 넌 전에도 그렇게 웃은적이 있어. 근데 어제도 아니고, 작년도 아니고 몇십년전도 아니야. 아마 꿈에서 본것같은데 그것도 확실치 않아. 아마 우주비행궤도 어디선가 본것은 아닐까. 널 이번 생에만 알았다기엔 넌 너무 익숙하고도 아련해. 내가 너의 손을 잡기만 하면 넌 내 옆에서 사라지지는 않을것 같아.

(그러니까 내가 그 손 잡아도, 원망 말아주���.)

-우리 둘중에 하나는 그래야하지 않겠어? 넌 겁쟁이잖아, 겉으로만 단단하고. -...그래, 세상 당당해서 좋겠다, 넌. -응, 좋아. 그러니까 너도 그랬으면 좋겠어.

그래, 이제 알았어. 넌 가만히 있어.

(내가 더 노력할게.)

동서남북(NESW) 어딜가도 도착지는, 너. | @clementide​

[whitelai]

‘stop shaking your legs, yihyun. it’s bad luck.’ @clementide​

past the window, there is a red-faced sunset with a soft stroke lavender. the boy, unmindful, moons about how colors and memories can be intertwined and then engraved in the back of your subconscious. a forgotten woman’s voice passes by like the wind, and promises a revisit.

when he looks down at the girl fast asleep, the jitter of his leg gradually dissipates. her head perched halfway on the edge of his lap, she breathes as if there is no dissonance in the world. as she should, he thinks, but quickly comes to the realization that she is, in fact, sleeping on the epitome of calamity. how would god describe him? a washout? the bane to everyone who shares a word with him? a black sheep with a smidgen of hope, perhaps?

the back of his fingers gingerly kisses her cheeks, mindful of her repose. the soft features of her face are paradoxical to his indelicate hands, and it prompts him to withdraw his fingers. it frustrates him, coming to the realization that his head is buzzing with too many thoughts and unspoken words. his boundless perception of life is now overcast, rowdy with everything about and of her.

“i wish you’d just leave me.” he whispers, too hushed to be heard and made solid. “but i don’t want to see the look on your face when i go, either.”

he paints the scene with blues in her eyes. lai, don’t leave me. she’ll cry, won’t she? she’d probably clench her small fists and throw them at his chest, too. it’s only the most appropriate scene to be played, yet he closes his eyes to shut off the preview. the boy wishes for a plot twist.

“..lai?”

when he starts untangling his knotted thoughts, she chimes in as if she knows the amount of unnecessary contemplations he’s collecting. he doesn’t know if it’s the weather that’s gotten cold altogether too quick, or if it’s just this particular day that’s making him feel like everything will suddenly evanesce. ‘everything’ as in her, and her only.

instead of throwing some casual, browbeating words, he blinks slowly while studying her features. it’s all a sudden impulse mixed with irrational fears when he imagines this exact moment without her warm skin upon his, without her in his sight. he leans down to wrap his arms around her waist, picking her up just slightly to lie his head close to her neck. he hugs her as though there is nothing else to depend on, and it’s only the unvarnished truth.

“don’t leave me, ji.”

but i still hope you will, someday.

[yeolkeot]

( kkt // 🐻 ) ㅠㅠㅠ hi your new hair looks really cute

( @clementide )

( kkt: 😊 )

hi

where are you spying on me from????

come out.

[caerium]

all txts

Send “✆” for a MORNING text. 

[ ✉ → jing 🐣 ] don’t miss your first day because you overslept [ ✉ → jing 🐣 ] and don’t forget to eat breakfast sent at 4:51:40 a.m.

Send “✉” for a text that WASN’T SENT. 

[ ✉ → jing 🐣 ] he wanted to prove himself[ ✉ → jing 🐣 ] I should have said no

Send “☎” for a RUSHED text. 

[ ✉ → jing 🐣 ] theres a naccident on the hghway[ ✉ → jing 🐣 ] ill call u bck

Send “⁇” for a DRUNK text.

[ ✉ → jing 🐣 ] ur fukcing pr etty r u cptins gfff[ ✉ → jing 🐣 ] h e lu vsssss uuuuuusent at 1:23:30 a.m.[ ✉ → jing 🐣 ] delete those texts[ ✉ → jing 🐣 ] jinseok stole my phone last night sent at 9:03:23 a.m.

Send “✿” for a SUGGESTIVE text. 

[ ✉ → jing 🐣 ] you don’t have to return it[ ✉ → jing 🐣 ] I like how my clothes look on you

Send “ø” for a LATE NIGHT text.

[ ✉ → jing 🐣 ] I don’t understand why you would go stand outside in the middle of winter because of a movie premiere[ ✉ → jing 🐣 ] was kang dong won worth getting a cold?sent at 3:01:25 a.m.

Send “✘” for a HATEFUL text.

[ ✉ → jing 🐣 ] you only see me as a replacement don’t you? [ ✉ → jing 🐣 ] forget it, I don’t know why I try

Send “#” for a RANDOM text.

[ ✉ → jing 🐣 ] I think your store bought chocolates may have poisoned my entire squadron [ ✉ → jing 🐣 ] you made it didn’t you

Send “@” for a SCARED text.

[ ✉ → jing 🐣 ] call me sent at 5:34:12 p.m.

[ ✉ → jing 🐣 ] where are you?[ ✉ → jing 🐣 ] we need to talksent at 7:13:35 p.m.

[ ✉ → jing 🐣 ] why aren’t you picking up?sent at 9:20:09 p.m.

[ ✉ → jing 🐣 ] open the doorsent at 11:34:23 p.m.

Send “&” for a LOVING text.

[ ✉ → jing 🐣 ] there’s nothing more I’d rather do than make you smile

Send “%” for a CURIOUS text.

[ ✉ → jing 🐣 ] what do clementine farms even look like?

Send “ツ” for an EXCITED text.

[ ✉ → jing 🐣 ] you probably don’t care but they discovered a new star about two light-years away from us!![ ✉ → jing 🐣 ] do you have any idea what that means??[ ✉ → jing 🐣 ] outside life forms, potential new galaxies!! 

Send “$” for an ACCIDENTAL text.

[ ✉ → jing 🐣 ] will you shut the fuck up?[ ✉ → jing 🐣 ] wait shit[ ✉ → jing 🐣 ] don’t misunderstand, that wasn’t for you[ ✉ → jing 🐣 ] I always wanted to hear the entire life history of kang dong won, really. 

Send “♀” for a HEARTBREAKING text. 

[ ✉ → jing 🐣 ] make sure to keep eating your vegetables[ ✉ → jing 🐣 ] and seriously, stop drinking coffee[ ✉ → jing 🐣 ] you’re turning into an addict[ ✉ → jing 🐣 ] dress more warmly and cover up during the summer[ ✉ → jing 🐣 ] fly home once in a while[ ✉ → jing 🐣 ] I know you can do it, even if I’m not the one flying the plane[ ✉ → jing 🐣 ] get eight hours of sleep daily[ ✉ → jing 🐣 ] I’m proud of yousent at 11:34:12 p.m. NUMBER DEACTIVATED (two minutes ago)