#44. not eternity; eunhyuk centric
warning: so metaphoric, it hurts. --- here's an actual author's note. this started as something that i just did simply to write, but then i kept eunhyuk in my mind for some reason /biased & here we are. really, it's not meant to be anything & it doesn't make sense. i'm going to call it au!fic though, where eunhyuk is a snow prince, unknown to it until he turned 22. not much plot not any at all. postscript; sorry i've been writing so much these past couple of days.
You twirl and twirl around all by yourself, out of place in the deserted field of frozen over grass and abandoned dreams (so maybe you're not really all that out of place, after all) until you fall, the impact of solid mass with the new snow burying you three inches in. The spiraling feeling didn't last long enough, and you can't help but think that your wings were taken away too soon.
The frozen particles melt when they touch your skin, until your skin is colder still, and it's a nice feeling for all of a span of minutes before the way it feels is close to numb. Being numb, it's nice too, you remember from days when words got twisted around malicious intent and disappointment burned just right, but there are days when you wonder, what's it like to feel alive?, because it's been so long that you've forgotten.
A long exhale of thought and too quick molecules have you staring at the star scattered sky, eyes opened wide for a glimpse of a reason, other than that you were meant to be like this, meant to be alone. The breath escapes you in planned pictures, the air frosting and fogging as you watch, until it's like you're creating and rearranging what used to be a part of yourself.
Footsteps all around you lead you in a circle, the unchanged foot falls of decisions made far too carefree, unthinking to a point that you might as well have been running through life. It's been years upon years since you've been normal, been loved, been yourself, and you miss when you were still able to wake up in the morning to be greeted with a smile.
The thing is, you don't want the eternity that some people spend most of their lifetime craving, searching aimlessly for. You don't want forever youth, because there's a beauty in the way wrinkles are waking proof of memories, because there's no point in remaining ageless when everybody else passes you by.
There's envy and hate and fear in their eyes, resentful of their unnamed imprisonment, every time they look at you, and you don't want that either. You don't want yourself, you don't even want to be loved (it would hurt too much and you can't do that, not after what happened last), it's just that,
you want to be able to feel alive again.
You twirl and twirl around all by yourself, out of place in the deserted field of frozen over grass and abandoned dreams (so maybe you're not really all that out of place, after all) until you fall, the impact of solid mass with the new snow burying you three inches in. The spiraling feeling didn't last long enough, and you can't help but think that your wings were taken away too soon.
The frozen particles melt when they touch your skin, until your skin is colder still, and it's a nice feeling for all of a span of minutes before the way it feels is close to numb. Being numb, it's nice too, you remember from days when words got twisted around malicious intent and disappointment burned just right, but there are days when you wonder, what's it like to feel alive?, because it's been so long that you've forgotten.
A long exhale of thought and too quick molecules have you staring at the star scattered sky, eyes opened wide for a glimpse of a reason, other than that you were meant to be like this, meant to be alone. The breath escapes you in planned pictures, the air frosting and fogging as you watch, until it's like you're creating and rearranging what used to be a part of yourself.
Footsteps all around you lead you in a circle, the unchanged foot falls of decisions made far too carefree, unthinking to a point that you might as well have been running through life. It's been years upon years since you've been normal, been loved, been yourself, and you miss when you were still able to wake up in the morning to be greeted with a smile.
The thing is, you don't want the eternity that some people spend most of their lifetime craving, searching aimlessly for. You don't want forever youth, because there's a beauty in the way wrinkles are waking proof of memories, because there's no point in remaining ageless when everybody else passes you by.
There's envy and hate and fear in their eyes, resentful of their unnamed imprisonment, every time they look at you, and you don't want that either. You don't want yourself, you don't even want to be loved (it would hurt too much and you can't do that, not after what happened last), it's just that,
you want to be able to feel alive again.