Beauty Of Paris
beauty of paris
~ 1041 w, pg (yoona/changmin)
au!paris.
a/n: to be honest, I don't know what this is but suddenly just got hit with a bunny plot and wrote this in an hour while listening to nancy sinatra. anyway, enjoy and I hope this is not too bad.
the end
Bullet stuck in his back, Shim Changmin stumbled ahead to his end on a Paris street. In his last moments, he still wasn’t less of a coward enough not to run. When he finally gave up, stop and drop to the ground, he noticed the little things he’d never paid attention to before in his short two weeks in this city. He noticed how they all seem to take in all the beautiful things with open arms and ignore the ugly, fallen, mishap lives of his so easily as they all walked down the street. Then there was her - oh, what a beauty she was, cruel but beautiful nevertheless.
She was the first to reach him, her heels cladded feet poking at his legs and as she stared down at him blankly, he couldn’t help but wonder if she’s been running after him all this time. Her eyes wandered to his hand, noticing the ticket in his hand and Changmin chuckled to himself, thinking of the 10 euro he wasted on the ballet show.
The girl didn’t cry but of course, she didn’t. She’s always been tough, tougher than he ever was. And it’s funny really because he can recall how many times he had declared his love for her and how she never said it back but he failed to recall her name. Maybe she had never told him her name, none of that mattered anymore.
“De quelle couleur sont tes yeux?”
He’s dead, Yoona took a sharp intake of breath then turned to the detective, “What did he say?”
“His French is hard to understand but I think he said ‘C'est vraiment de ta faute’”
the middle
She was still so young, so full of energy, so wonderfully inquisitive and still so unfulfilled with life. Yoona carefully thought it through - what she was gaining and what she was losing, the pros and the cons. Then she felt panic stricken, when the thought appeared in her head and travel straight through her heart. She stare at the headline, printed in bold, font 72 - Police Killer On The Loose, still uncaptured. Yoona wondered how she could ignore it so easily until now. A decision was made.
What’s wrong with you now? there was no suspicion in his eyes, only the light of adoration in his eyes he masked so well with the careless exterior.
How foolish? She thought to herself with the shake of the head as she offered him a comforting smile. What a fool, what a woodened headed fool. Yoona almost pitied him, almost. The man - no, merely a boy who prided over the delusion he had made up for himself, thinking, imagining he could understand every little movements in her head. No, he could not understand her and right now, at this very moment as they stare back at each other in the manner they had done the very first day, does she think they have been anything more but a mere stranger.
What made you shoot the police man? she asked him bluntly, the question that she had been meaning to ask since she had read the newspaper last evening. Not that it matters, now that we’re making a run out of Paris today, she continued abruptly when his face fell.
Curious, aren’t you? there was something close to fear in his voice, something she’d learn he had been bottling up for some time in his young life. I got caught, the man was going to arrest me. What could I have done? Wait for him to call the whole city to watch?
The easy way out, as always, Yoona thought to herself and wonder why she’s not afraid of him. Shouldn’t she be frightened in the very least? He had killed a man after all, a stranger but still, a man. Shouldn’t that thought terrify her? But it doesn’t, her initial reaction was ‘so this was why he was in Paris’ and a grimaced. She asked him yet another question, curiosity getting the best out of her, But why didn’t you just run? The car you stole was working perfectly fine, wasn’t it?
Vulnerableness clouded over his eyes. The button froze between his two fingers, his gaze glued to the ground. Yoona saw it, she could almost hear it - she’s right, I could have drove away, why didn’t I? He had always been easy to read, she grinned to herself and picked up another dress from her bed, folding it carefully.
There - the answer was clear in his eyes, he was scared.
Later when the clock strikes twelve, she put on her best summer dress and made up some excuse of getting coffee from down the street. It wasn’t entirely a lie, she did stop for a cup of coffee, instead of two and phoned the police, giving them his locations, selling him out.
I love a coward, she discovered seconds later then called him.
the start
She doesn't know his name is Changmin, yet.
Red, she called him because of his flashy choice of neck wear. And blue, so he called her, convinced her eyes were blue as the sea.
Yoona doesn't know his name is Changmin; she only knew that his French is lousy and he’s got himself convinced he’s tough as a nail. He’s not, she could tell he wasn’t but she didn’t burst his bubble, she goes with the whole act of his, finding it amusing and pitiful at the same time.
What do you do? She asked in the most polite manner, ordering drinks for him when it was apparent that no one could understand his thick accent.
Professional robber. Yoona laughed, her grin is bright. She didn't believe him then, she will have to later. What are you doing in Paris?
Yoona doesn’t tell him the truth, of course. No, she said something equally scandalous - If you’re a professional robber, I’m a jewel thief, she announced proudly.
He never will find out that she was studying ballet at the art school down the Champs-Élysées street.
p.s. if you're wondering what the two french phrases at the start mean, 'De quelle couleur sont tes yeux?' means 'What color are your eyes?' and 'C'est vraiment de ta faute' in this case, means 'It's all your fault'
~ 1041 w, pg (yoona/changmin)
au!paris.
a/n: to be honest, I don't know what this is but suddenly just got hit with a bunny plot and wrote this in an hour while listening to nancy sinatra. anyway, enjoy and I hope this is not too bad.
the end
Bullet stuck in his back, Shim Changmin stumbled ahead to his end on a Paris street. In his last moments, he still wasn’t less of a coward enough not to run. When he finally gave up, stop and drop to the ground, he noticed the little things he’d never paid attention to before in his short two weeks in this city. He noticed how they all seem to take in all the beautiful things with open arms and ignore the ugly, fallen, mishap lives of his so easily as they all walked down the street. Then there was her - oh, what a beauty she was, cruel but beautiful nevertheless.
She was the first to reach him, her heels cladded feet poking at his legs and as she stared down at him blankly, he couldn’t help but wonder if she’s been running after him all this time. Her eyes wandered to his hand, noticing the ticket in his hand and Changmin chuckled to himself, thinking of the 10 euro he wasted on the ballet show.
The girl didn’t cry but of course, she didn’t. She’s always been tough, tougher than he ever was. And it’s funny really because he can recall how many times he had declared his love for her and how she never said it back but he failed to recall her name. Maybe she had never told him her name, none of that mattered anymore.
“De quelle couleur sont tes yeux?”
He’s dead, Yoona took a sharp intake of breath then turned to the detective, “What did he say?”
“His French is hard to understand but I think he said ‘C'est vraiment de ta faute’”
the middle
She was still so young, so full of energy, so wonderfully inquisitive and still so unfulfilled with life. Yoona carefully thought it through - what she was gaining and what she was losing, the pros and the cons. Then she felt panic stricken, when the thought appeared in her head and travel straight through her heart. She stare at the headline, printed in bold, font 72 - Police Killer On The Loose, still uncaptured. Yoona wondered how she could ignore it so easily until now. A decision was made.
What’s wrong with you now? there was no suspicion in his eyes, only the light of adoration in his eyes he masked so well with the careless exterior.
How foolish? She thought to herself with the shake of the head as she offered him a comforting smile. What a fool, what a woodened headed fool. Yoona almost pitied him, almost. The man - no, merely a boy who prided over the delusion he had made up for himself, thinking, imagining he could understand every little movements in her head. No, he could not understand her and right now, at this very moment as they stare back at each other in the manner they had done the very first day, does she think they have been anything more but a mere stranger.
What made you shoot the police man? she asked him bluntly, the question that she had been meaning to ask since she had read the newspaper last evening. Not that it matters, now that we’re making a run out of Paris today, she continued abruptly when his face fell.
Curious, aren’t you? there was something close to fear in his voice, something she’d learn he had been bottling up for some time in his young life. I got caught, the man was going to arrest me. What could I have done? Wait for him to call the whole city to watch?
The easy way out, as always, Yoona thought to herself and wonder why she’s not afraid of him. Shouldn’t she be frightened in the very least? He had killed a man after all, a stranger but still, a man. Shouldn’t that thought terrify her? But it doesn’t, her initial reaction was ‘so this was why he was in Paris’ and a grimaced. She asked him yet another question, curiosity getting the best out of her, But why didn’t you just run? The car you stole was working perfectly fine, wasn’t it?
Vulnerableness clouded over his eyes. The button froze between his two fingers, his gaze glued to the ground. Yoona saw it, she could almost hear it - she’s right, I could have drove away, why didn’t I? He had always been easy to read, she grinned to herself and picked up another dress from her bed, folding it carefully.
There - the answer was clear in his eyes, he was scared.
Later when the clock strikes twelve, she put on her best summer dress and made up some excuse of getting coffee from down the street. It wasn’t entirely a lie, she did stop for a cup of coffee, instead of two and phoned the police, giving them his locations, selling him out.
I love a coward, she discovered seconds later then called him.
the start
She doesn't know his name is Changmin, yet.
Red, she called him because of his flashy choice of neck wear. And blue, so he called her, convinced her eyes were blue as the sea.
Yoona doesn't know his name is Changmin; she only knew that his French is lousy and he’s got himself convinced he’s tough as a nail. He’s not, she could tell he wasn’t but she didn’t burst his bubble, she goes with the whole act of his, finding it amusing and pitiful at the same time.
What do you do? She asked in the most polite manner, ordering drinks for him when it was apparent that no one could understand his thick accent.
Professional robber. Yoona laughed, her grin is bright. She didn't believe him then, she will have to later. What are you doing in Paris?
Yoona doesn’t tell him the truth, of course. No, she said something equally scandalous - If you’re a professional robber, I’m a jewel thief, she announced proudly.
He never will find out that she was studying ballet at the art school down the Champs-Élysées street.
p.s. if you're wondering what the two french phrases at the start mean, 'De quelle couleur sont tes yeux?' means 'What color are your eyes?' and 'C'est vraiment de ta faute' in this case, means 'It's all your fault'