Prism - Drabble (Yoosu)
Title: Prism
Author: kayjayloves
Word Count: 200
Pairing: Yoosu
Band: DBSK/THSK/TVXQ
Genre: romance
Rating: G
Warning: none
Disclaimer: Don't own these boys, just my interpretations of them.
Synopsis: That these colors you see/Were picked in advance by some careful hand/with an absolute concept of beauty
Comments: For mimei! it has nothing to do with your prompt, but <3 ^^; Lyrics in synopsis taken from A Scale, A Mirror, and Those Indifferent Clocks by Bright Eyes.
“Imagine,” he tells you once, creating cradles out of your hands - overlap and merge, his fingers laced with yours. “Imagine a world with no colors.”
You laugh, pull a hand away from his; break the bridge he created. “That’s stupid,” you say. There’s no such thing, it’s impossible. He watches you, dark eyes and swirling thoughts, you start to turn away. A trap - you’ve been caught in that stare, those thoughts, too many times to let him take you in again.
You close your eyes.
The outside world fades, the traces of light and hue fading within minutes - until it’s black, black, black against the filter of your eyelids. With your eyes closed, with the outside world (him) shut out, there’s no color.
“Oh.” A hand touches your eyelids, traces the soft skin and the faint dark circles underneath, slow and reverent. A finger slips down your cheek, smearing through the last traces of make-up, leaving you still and waiting; his lips touch against your own.
“Imagine,” he whispers, moments later. “A world with no color.”
Black; but his hands warm and red against your skin, his eyes brown, his voice smooth lavender and his love mixing hues. “I can’t.”
Author: kayjayloves
Word Count: 200
Pairing: Yoosu
Band: DBSK/THSK/TVXQ
Genre: romance
Rating: G
Warning: none
Disclaimer: Don't own these boys, just my interpretations of them.
Synopsis: That these colors you see/Were picked in advance by some careful hand/with an absolute concept of beauty
Comments: For mimei! it has nothing to do with your prompt, but <3 ^^; Lyrics in synopsis taken from A Scale, A Mirror, and Those Indifferent Clocks by Bright Eyes.
“Imagine,” he tells you once, creating cradles out of your hands - overlap and merge, his fingers laced with yours. “Imagine a world with no colors.”
You laugh, pull a hand away from his; break the bridge he created. “That’s stupid,” you say. There’s no such thing, it’s impossible. He watches you, dark eyes and swirling thoughts, you start to turn away. A trap - you’ve been caught in that stare, those thoughts, too many times to let him take you in again.
You close your eyes.
The outside world fades, the traces of light and hue fading within minutes - until it’s black, black, black against the filter of your eyelids. With your eyes closed, with the outside world (him) shut out, there’s no color.
“Oh.” A hand touches your eyelids, traces the soft skin and the faint dark circles underneath, slow and reverent. A finger slips down your cheek, smearing through the last traces of make-up, leaving you still and waiting; his lips touch against your own.
“Imagine,” he whispers, moments later. “A world with no color.”
Black; but his hands warm and red against your skin, his eyes brown, his voice smooth lavender and his love mixing hues. “I can’t.”