gone and reached.
g/angst.
key/amber.
oneshot, complete.
624 words for part 1, 1553 words total.
a/n: i tried using blockquote for the first time on livejournal. ^-^
many thanks to lovepeacefx for teaching this noob (ME). blockquote's not working! D:
this is my second collab with lovepeacefx~♥ i liked writing this fic a lot, hahaha. maybe i share celia (lovepeacefx)'s sadist streak, lol. anyway, this fic's posting format's like our last collab. part one's here, and part two's over on lovepeacefx's journal. please comment on both! ♥
part two here.
part one
backpack on his shoulders, he leans against the side of the train, ears stuffed with neon orange earphones. his ipod's volume is turned low. it's just enough to drown out the chitter chatter of the other commuters.
it's been so exhausting. the whole day had been spent rushing from music programmes to variety shows and then back to sm entertainment for dance practice.
he sighs, closing his eyes for a moment. and she enters his thoughts, just like a little creeper, he thinks, smiling to himself. she's so beautiful. all these days he’s working so hard, not only for himself, but for her too.
because she means the world to him, and he wants to make sure he does all he can to protect and provide for her. his little boy, he calls her teasingly. but when he's with her, all he sees are eyelashes that lower when he leans in to kiss her, slim milky legs that hold her tall and confident, small pink lips that pull into the cutest shapes when she laughs.
‘amber,’ he says upon reaching home.
the lights are off. he heads to switch them on. his heart beats fast, like offbeat ticking of broken down clockwork. where’s amber?
‘amber?’ he repeats.
no answer. fear grips him; he starts panicking. he flicks on the lights and starts to rush about looking for her. her name escapes his lips again and again, each time more pleading than before.
he searches all the rooms, but finds no one. he tries again, slowly. in the master bedroom, he notices that the closet has been emptied of her belongings. his eyes widen. she’s gone.
‘amber?’ he says softly.
his eyes graze the emptiness in amber’s half of the closet, a contrast against his piles of clothing sitting in the other half. there’s a note taped on the mirror. he laughs bitterly; he always thought that she read too many romance novels - it makes her do so many clichéd things, like taping notes on the mirror when she leaves him.
key
i can’t stand coming home to an empty apartment after barely seeing your face the whole day. you can’t pick up my calls because you’re filming. you can’t reply my messages because you’re changing for your next performance. when you get home, it’s ‘hey amber’, ‘i love you, goodnight’. i love you too, kibum, but having nearly zero interaction with you eats away at me every day.
don’t worry, i’ll make sure i’m safe wherever i’m going.
xoxo
amber
he runs a finger over her neat handwriting. she’s really gone now.
‘amber …’
hot wet tears fall from his cheeks. he laughs. what a damn ironic joke. she left because he is working too hard for her to be with her. he laughs and laughs and laughs. his hysteria fills the house, eventually morphing into loud, liberated sobs.
maybe she hasn’t left for long. since his life was playing out like a stupid drama episode, maybe she hasn’t left for long, like those female leads. he laughs. it sounds empty, hollowed out but the constant washing of his tears, but a little spark burns in his chest at the thought of that possibility - that he may reach her.
he grabs a thick hooded jacket and runs out, rubbing at the stickiness of dried tears on his cheeks. he gets into the lift and slams hard on the button for the ground floor. when the machinery gives a ‘ding’, he takes a deep breath. and runs.
he goes around all the nearby buildings - looping, turning, going about in circles. on the nth round, he starts slowing down.
maybe she’s really, truly gone. he feels his sadness wash over, and that little spark goes out.
key/amber.
oneshot, complete.
624 words for part 1, 1553 words total.
a/n: i tried using blockquote for the first time on livejournal. ^-^
many thanks to lovepeacefx for teaching this noob (ME). blockquote's not working! D:
this is my second collab with lovepeacefx~♥ i liked writing this fic a lot, hahaha. maybe i share celia (lovepeacefx)'s sadist streak, lol. anyway, this fic's posting format's like our last collab. part one's here, and part two's over on lovepeacefx's journal. please comment on both! ♥
part two here.
part one
backpack on his shoulders, he leans against the side of the train, ears stuffed with neon orange earphones. his ipod's volume is turned low. it's just enough to drown out the chitter chatter of the other commuters.
it's been so exhausting. the whole day had been spent rushing from music programmes to variety shows and then back to sm entertainment for dance practice.
he sighs, closing his eyes for a moment. and she enters his thoughts, just like a little creeper, he thinks, smiling to himself. she's so beautiful. all these days he’s working so hard, not only for himself, but for her too.
because she means the world to him, and he wants to make sure he does all he can to protect and provide for her. his little boy, he calls her teasingly. but when he's with her, all he sees are eyelashes that lower when he leans in to kiss her, slim milky legs that hold her tall and confident, small pink lips that pull into the cutest shapes when she laughs.
‘amber,’ he says upon reaching home.
the lights are off. he heads to switch them on. his heart beats fast, like offbeat ticking of broken down clockwork. where’s amber?
‘amber?’ he repeats.
no answer. fear grips him; he starts panicking. he flicks on the lights and starts to rush about looking for her. her name escapes his lips again and again, each time more pleading than before.
he searches all the rooms, but finds no one. he tries again, slowly. in the master bedroom, he notices that the closet has been emptied of her belongings. his eyes widen. she’s gone.
‘amber?’ he says softly.
his eyes graze the emptiness in amber’s half of the closet, a contrast against his piles of clothing sitting in the other half. there’s a note taped on the mirror. he laughs bitterly; he always thought that she read too many romance novels - it makes her do so many clichéd things, like taping notes on the mirror when she leaves him.
key
i can’t stand coming home to an empty apartment after barely seeing your face the whole day. you can’t pick up my calls because you’re filming. you can’t reply my messages because you’re changing for your next performance. when you get home, it’s ‘hey amber’, ‘i love you, goodnight’. i love you too, kibum, but having nearly zero interaction with you eats away at me every day.
don’t worry, i’ll make sure i’m safe wherever i’m going.
xoxo
amber
he runs a finger over her neat handwriting. she’s really gone now.
‘amber …’
hot wet tears fall from his cheeks. he laughs. what a damn ironic joke. she left because he is working too hard for her to be with her. he laughs and laughs and laughs. his hysteria fills the house, eventually morphing into loud, liberated sobs.
maybe she hasn’t left for long. since his life was playing out like a stupid drama episode, maybe she hasn’t left for long, like those female leads. he laughs. it sounds empty, hollowed out but the constant washing of his tears, but a little spark burns in his chest at the thought of that possibility - that he may reach her.
he grabs a thick hooded jacket and runs out, rubbing at the stickiness of dried tears on his cheeks. he gets into the lift and slams hard on the button for the ground floor. when the machinery gives a ‘ding’, he takes a deep breath. and runs.
he goes around all the nearby buildings - looping, turning, going about in circles. on the nth round, he starts slowing down.
maybe she’s really, truly gone. he feels his sadness wash over, and that little spark goes out.