Sea / "What's the Difference?"
029. Sea
[Pairing] Shiwon / Sungmin
[Rating] PG
[Genre] Angst
[Word Count] 377
[Author's Note] Sorry it was so short D: and so angsty! But what can I do?
(My Archive!)
“Donghae,” Sungmin said softly to the figure seated beside him. He picked up a handful of sand, slowly letting it filter through his fingers, blowing in the wind as it fell back to the ground. “That’s his name.”
Shiwon nodded, not really sure what to say. “How old?”
Sungmin pursed his lips softly, staring at the sand falling, falling, clinging softly to his fingertips. “Four.” Hardly a reaction, hardly any movement at all; just a small flicker of his eyes from his fingers to the sand, constantly sliding out of his hand. “We were going to name him after you, but she - you know, she likes the sea.”
Of course that’s not what he was going to say - but she doesn’t like you - but Shiwon nodded all the same. He couldn’t expect his ex-lover’s wife to like him, not after knowing that Shiwon was the one to break it off with Sungmin all those years ago. “Yeah.”
“He really liked the sea, so it turned out to be fitting.” More sand falling to the ground, the wind blowing through the grains and through Sungmin’s hair. How Shiwon wanted to desperately to also run his hands through Sungmin’s hair, but he knew this wasn’t the time. Not the time, not the place.
“When is-” He stopped himself short, not knowing if it was the proper time to ask this question. Sungmin looked up at him briefly, not enough time for Shiwon to know what emotion his eyes held, but that look prompted him to continue. “When is the funeral?”
The flow of the sand lessened as Sungmin squeezed his hand tighter. “In three days. Will you be there?”
Shiwon didn’t even have to think about his answer - of course he’d be there. How could he not when he still had all those feelings for Sungmin? When all he’d wanted the past six years since they broke up was to hold Sungmin again? “If you want me there.”
“That’s why I called you.” The flow of sand resumed again. “Of course I want you there.”
“Then I’ll be there.”
The waves of the sea touched their bare feet as the tide came in, and the last of the sand fell from Sungmin’s hand, swept away by the water.
Donghae.
049. "What's the Difference?"
[Pairing] Hankyung / Hankyung
[Rating] PG-13
[Genre] Angst
[Word Count] 477
[Author's Note] Again, sorry for the shortness and the angst, but again, what can I do? D:
You have such a beautiful face.
He smiled as he remembered the words whispered to him all those years ago on the pier, the wind rustling through their hair as they held hands and touched the other’s face, pressing lips together with all the awkwardness of a first kiss. He’d been truly in love back then, truly in love and happy with no worries he could think of. He remembered the tears that ran down his cheeks when he was told ‘I love you,’ the words he’d longed to hear out of that mouth, said just for his ears, no one else’s.
He looked down in his hand and the thin piece of silver resting on his fingertips.
You don’t need makeup, you’re beautiful.
He stared at his disfigured face in the mirror, at the many scars that criss-crossed in ugly patterns across his forehead, down his cheek, over his lips. Some were fully healed and had become slightly raised white lines while others were still red and swollen, still fresh from only a few days ago. Only one side of his face, though. Only the right side had the ugly marks to mar his skin; the left side was still reserved for his love to kiss and caress, though it had been years since that had happened.
He lifted the slim blade in his fingers, resting it against one of the old scars, and pressed deeply as he slid down, a red line of blood following the silver’s descent down his cheeks.
Don’t cover your face, it’s too pretty.
The funeral had taken place a week after they’d moved in together. His love had been in the house alone, sleeping on the bed and forgetting about the cigarette in his hand. He never woke up on the burning bed, and the doctors tried to say he died almost instantaneously, but he wasn’t stupid. He also overheard the doctors whispering to each other, hoping he wouldn’t hear, but he heard them well enough. There’d been accelerant on his body, not accidentally placed.
A tear slipped out of his eye, mingling with the blood, and he thought that nothing had looked more appropriate.
You’re so pretty…
He always wore make-up when he went to the grave, but he never had to worry about smudging it with tears. He never cried in public, not even in front of him or his grave. He couldn’t. What he could do, though, was lay on the grass by the grave and imagine he was laying in his bed, holding hands with his love when they were happy - when he thought they were happy. He would hold the grass in his fingers and pretend it was a hand, feel the wind and pretend it was breath. His love had killed himself, was dead; Hankyung was alive, but was dead, but-
“What’s the difference?”
[Pairing] Shiwon / Sungmin
[Rating] PG
[Genre] Angst
[Word Count] 377
[Author's Note] Sorry it was so short D: and so angsty! But what can I do?
(My Archive!)
“Donghae,” Sungmin said softly to the figure seated beside him. He picked up a handful of sand, slowly letting it filter through his fingers, blowing in the wind as it fell back to the ground. “That’s his name.”
Shiwon nodded, not really sure what to say. “How old?”
Sungmin pursed his lips softly, staring at the sand falling, falling, clinging softly to his fingertips. “Four.” Hardly a reaction, hardly any movement at all; just a small flicker of his eyes from his fingers to the sand, constantly sliding out of his hand. “We were going to name him after you, but she - you know, she likes the sea.”
Of course that’s not what he was going to say - but she doesn’t like you - but Shiwon nodded all the same. He couldn’t expect his ex-lover’s wife to like him, not after knowing that Shiwon was the one to break it off with Sungmin all those years ago. “Yeah.”
“He really liked the sea, so it turned out to be fitting.” More sand falling to the ground, the wind blowing through the grains and through Sungmin’s hair. How Shiwon wanted to desperately to also run his hands through Sungmin’s hair, but he knew this wasn’t the time. Not the time, not the place.
“When is-” He stopped himself short, not knowing if it was the proper time to ask this question. Sungmin looked up at him briefly, not enough time for Shiwon to know what emotion his eyes held, but that look prompted him to continue. “When is the funeral?”
The flow of the sand lessened as Sungmin squeezed his hand tighter. “In three days. Will you be there?”
Shiwon didn’t even have to think about his answer - of course he’d be there. How could he not when he still had all those feelings for Sungmin? When all he’d wanted the past six years since they broke up was to hold Sungmin again? “If you want me there.”
“That’s why I called you.” The flow of sand resumed again. “Of course I want you there.”
“Then I’ll be there.”
The waves of the sea touched their bare feet as the tide came in, and the last of the sand fell from Sungmin’s hand, swept away by the water.
Donghae.
049. "What's the Difference?"
[Pairing] Hankyung / Hankyung
[Rating] PG-13
[Genre] Angst
[Word Count] 477
[Author's Note] Again, sorry for the shortness and the angst, but again, what can I do? D:
You have such a beautiful face.
He smiled as he remembered the words whispered to him all those years ago on the pier, the wind rustling through their hair as they held hands and touched the other’s face, pressing lips together with all the awkwardness of a first kiss. He’d been truly in love back then, truly in love and happy with no worries he could think of. He remembered the tears that ran down his cheeks when he was told ‘I love you,’ the words he’d longed to hear out of that mouth, said just for his ears, no one else’s.
He looked down in his hand and the thin piece of silver resting on his fingertips.
You don’t need makeup, you’re beautiful.
He stared at his disfigured face in the mirror, at the many scars that criss-crossed in ugly patterns across his forehead, down his cheek, over his lips. Some were fully healed and had become slightly raised white lines while others were still red and swollen, still fresh from only a few days ago. Only one side of his face, though. Only the right side had the ugly marks to mar his skin; the left side was still reserved for his love to kiss and caress, though it had been years since that had happened.
He lifted the slim blade in his fingers, resting it against one of the old scars, and pressed deeply as he slid down, a red line of blood following the silver’s descent down his cheeks.
Don’t cover your face, it’s too pretty.
The funeral had taken place a week after they’d moved in together. His love had been in the house alone, sleeping on the bed and forgetting about the cigarette in his hand. He never woke up on the burning bed, and the doctors tried to say he died almost instantaneously, but he wasn’t stupid. He also overheard the doctors whispering to each other, hoping he wouldn’t hear, but he heard them well enough. There’d been accelerant on his body, not accidentally placed.
A tear slipped out of his eye, mingling with the blood, and he thought that nothing had looked more appropriate.
You’re so pretty…
He always wore make-up when he went to the grave, but he never had to worry about smudging it with tears. He never cried in public, not even in front of him or his grave. He couldn’t. What he could do, though, was lay on the grass by the grave and imagine he was laying in his bed, holding hands with his love when they were happy - when he thought they were happy. He would hold the grass in his fingers and pretend it was a hand, feel the wind and pretend it was breath. His love had killed himself, was dead; Hankyung was alive, but was dead, but-
“What’s the difference?”