heartbreak warfare
heartbreak warfare.
→ Jonghyun/Kibum; PG-13 / 996 words
love was an ugly creature
love-
kibum never believed in love; love was for the weak and stupid. like a bunch of flowers made of plastic, it’s fake inside and out. just a pretty surface as a bad disguise to cover anything else hidden in what seems to be perfection at its best (oh, those poor blemishes). but kibum wasn’t dumb (he has his high grades to prove it) and to top it all off, he’s stubborn as a fool (he never did change his mind), so it made perfect sense as to why he was like this.
to him, love was for the blind believers; nonexistent. it never did phase him as to why everyone was so worked up about it (“what makes it so special anyway?” he would ask taemin randomly one afternoon, where the red-haired dancer would just laugh and reply cheekily, “it’s for the blind idiots like you who can’t figure something like love out-even if it’s right in front of you.” and kibum would scoff in response, because in all honesty there really was no response to that).
so when he kisses jonghyun the next day after dance practice-maybe to prove a point; he can’t tell-for all the wrong reasons and all the right things, (“don’t think too much about it,” kibum would say and jonghyun would just smirk right back-knowing, “never crossed my mind.”), love was both neither and on his mind. because this was kibum, and kibum never was the type to believe in butterfly kisses and perfect endings; he never heard such a thing.
but it happened again, and kibum can’t tell which is which anymore (lust or adoration; he never did quite make it out right). to him, love was an ugly creature. its venom, as black as the starless night sky, created to kill all hope and other chemicals that override common sense (or at least, that's what he thought). but so was jealousy, and jealousy loves controversy; it always was the stained-bleached hair (of a barbie doll's blonde colour with a touch of an artificial smile; jessica) and pale perfect legs that he dreaded the most. ("you know, i was just talking to her." jonghyun would say, answering the kings and queens of silence; adding nothing but false reassurance to kim kibum's heart. and kibum would reply back with nonsense, "what the fuck are you talking about?" because that was the only thing he could think of at the moment; he really did try).
it seems jealousy also loves company, because love was for the confused; the cadence of a song that keeps going and going, an eternal cycle that corrupts the mind. because it believes and hopes and loves; appears below, above, here, and nowhere. ("jealous?" jonghyun smiles and stumbles up to kibum, raising his hand. "no," he whispers meekly as he finds the floor more interesting than the blonde-haired raccoon he so absently is ignoring. "oh." jonghyun would say as he touches his face and rubs kibum's cheekbones and whispers, "can i kiss you, then?" he doesn't wait for an answer because he already knew; that was kim jonghyun. here, in the dressing room where the stage is just a few meters away and flashing bright lights and an expecting crowd dizzies the body, kim kibum's heart beats).
he will never admit it, though, that he’s finally got it (jonghyun smiles, “you know, i kinda like this.” and kibum, kisses in between each smile and laughs, “yeah, me too”). love was for the fearful (and he was scared), but if kim kibum was asked to write love on his arms (“come on, just once.” jonghyun would ask as he draws dark red hearts on pale white skin, implying more than just appealing illustrations and happy dreams, where kibum would reply, “you’ve already done it, idiot; there’s no point in asking.”), he would gladly do it because to love, is knowing you went too far (“is this okay?” he would say, and kibum would reply with a, “no,” but it didn’t matter). so one night when they were having sex, and jonghyun's arms were wrapped around kibum's hips and he climaxed, kibum swallowed everything he feared because the only thing we have to fear is fear itself; he wasn't that strong.
but kibum never believed in forever; he was still working on it. life was passing by like every departing flight, where sunny beginnings brought miserable endings ("life is a risk, kibum." jonghyun cries hysterically; he was high on more than just adrenaline, "and we're taking chances." kibum could only nod). love was like playing games of tic-tac-toe against himself (somehow, kibum always loses); he tried to empty the ocean with a teacup.
the world was a sinful place; washed with unvoiced tears and inopportune events. it was a constant knot of regrets and pain (jonghyun is angry with frustration, "we can't do this anymore." and kibum would pretend he didn't hear a word, because he doesn't want to. "i'm not gay, kibum.") and it's too bad, because jonghyun was on his mind. and he held kibum's heart in his hands, screaming, break me. so when jonghyun brings jessica back to the dorm one evening, kibum keeps watching the tv. because he was human, and humans can forget.
love was for the heartbreakers and criers. those who play the game knowing that they’ll lose in the end (“you never really win when it comes to love,” jonghyun says one day to kibum, inhaling what seems to be white satin cigarettes hanging from loose lips, “shit happens. and in the end, you’re the only one getting hurt.” kibum thinks jonghyun’s serious this time; he can’t tell if it’s a good or bad thing).
to him, love was like ring around the rosie, a pocket full of posies, ashes. ashes-
(because in the end, they all fall down).
is.
--
Note: Comments&Criticism ♥
Frustration with reality seems to be helping my muse a bit. I feel almost pathetic writing such angsty stuff. I hope I didn't break yours (or my) heart. Do comment! I love you all for reading :') Cookies, anyone?
Ps. OMG, its 2am. -.-"
→ Jonghyun/Kibum; PG-13 / 996 words
love was an ugly creature
love-
kibum never believed in love; love was for the weak and stupid. like a bunch of flowers made of plastic, it’s fake inside and out. just a pretty surface as a bad disguise to cover anything else hidden in what seems to be perfection at its best (oh, those poor blemishes). but kibum wasn’t dumb (he has his high grades to prove it) and to top it all off, he’s stubborn as a fool (he never did change his mind), so it made perfect sense as to why he was like this.
to him, love was for the blind believers; nonexistent. it never did phase him as to why everyone was so worked up about it (“what makes it so special anyway?” he would ask taemin randomly one afternoon, where the red-haired dancer would just laugh and reply cheekily, “it’s for the blind idiots like you who can’t figure something like love out-even if it’s right in front of you.” and kibum would scoff in response, because in all honesty there really was no response to that).
so when he kisses jonghyun the next day after dance practice-maybe to prove a point; he can’t tell-for all the wrong reasons and all the right things, (“don’t think too much about it,” kibum would say and jonghyun would just smirk right back-knowing, “never crossed my mind.”), love was both neither and on his mind. because this was kibum, and kibum never was the type to believe in butterfly kisses and perfect endings; he never heard such a thing.
but it happened again, and kibum can’t tell which is which anymore (lust or adoration; he never did quite make it out right). to him, love was an ugly creature. its venom, as black as the starless night sky, created to kill all hope and other chemicals that override common sense (or at least, that's what he thought). but so was jealousy, and jealousy loves controversy; it always was the stained-bleached hair (of a barbie doll's blonde colour with a touch of an artificial smile; jessica) and pale perfect legs that he dreaded the most. ("you know, i was just talking to her." jonghyun would say, answering the kings and queens of silence; adding nothing but false reassurance to kim kibum's heart. and kibum would reply back with nonsense, "what the fuck are you talking about?" because that was the only thing he could think of at the moment; he really did try).
it seems jealousy also loves company, because love was for the confused; the cadence of a song that keeps going and going, an eternal cycle that corrupts the mind. because it believes and hopes and loves; appears below, above, here, and nowhere. ("jealous?" jonghyun smiles and stumbles up to kibum, raising his hand. "no," he whispers meekly as he finds the floor more interesting than the blonde-haired raccoon he so absently is ignoring. "oh." jonghyun would say as he touches his face and rubs kibum's cheekbones and whispers, "can i kiss you, then?" he doesn't wait for an answer because he already knew; that was kim jonghyun. here, in the dressing room where the stage is just a few meters away and flashing bright lights and an expecting crowd dizzies the body, kim kibum's heart beats).
he will never admit it, though, that he’s finally got it (jonghyun smiles, “you know, i kinda like this.” and kibum, kisses in between each smile and laughs, “yeah, me too”). love was for the fearful (and he was scared), but if kim kibum was asked to write love on his arms (“come on, just once.” jonghyun would ask as he draws dark red hearts on pale white skin, implying more than just appealing illustrations and happy dreams, where kibum would reply, “you’ve already done it, idiot; there’s no point in asking.”), he would gladly do it because to love, is knowing you went too far (“is this okay?” he would say, and kibum would reply with a, “no,” but it didn’t matter). so one night when they were having sex, and jonghyun's arms were wrapped around kibum's hips and he climaxed, kibum swallowed everything he feared because the only thing we have to fear is fear itself; he wasn't that strong.
but kibum never believed in forever; he was still working on it. life was passing by like every departing flight, where sunny beginnings brought miserable endings ("life is a risk, kibum." jonghyun cries hysterically; he was high on more than just adrenaline, "and we're taking chances." kibum could only nod). love was like playing games of tic-tac-toe against himself (somehow, kibum always loses); he tried to empty the ocean with a teacup.
the world was a sinful place; washed with unvoiced tears and inopportune events. it was a constant knot of regrets and pain (jonghyun is angry with frustration, "we can't do this anymore." and kibum would pretend he didn't hear a word, because he doesn't want to. "i'm not gay, kibum.") and it's too bad, because jonghyun was on his mind. and he held kibum's heart in his hands, screaming, break me. so when jonghyun brings jessica back to the dorm one evening, kibum keeps watching the tv. because he was human, and humans can forget.
love was for the heartbreakers and criers. those who play the game knowing that they’ll lose in the end (“you never really win when it comes to love,” jonghyun says one day to kibum, inhaling what seems to be white satin cigarettes hanging from loose lips, “shit happens. and in the end, you’re the only one getting hurt.” kibum thinks jonghyun’s serious this time; he can’t tell if it’s a good or bad thing).
to him, love was like ring around the rosie, a pocket full of posies, ashes. ashes-
(because in the end, they all fall down).
is.
--
Note: Comments&Criticism ♥
Frustration with reality seems to be helping my muse a bit. I feel almost pathetic writing such angsty stuff. I hope I didn't break yours (or my) heart. Do comment! I love you all for reading :') Cookies, anyone?
Ps. OMG, its 2am. -.-"