Roses
Title: Roses
Author: wontonxx
Pairing: Shindong/Shingdong. implied Shindong/ ?
Genre: Angst
Rating: PG
Length: one-shot, about 800 words
Warnings: AU? , OOC
Disclaimer: i own nothing but the plot.
A/N so, I decided my kibum/eeteuk challenge could wait another day. I was feeling up to writing angst It's not that angst..ish though. &it didn't really turn out the way I wanted. Enjoy please =D and excuse any grammer mistakes. I rushed this one.
032. Roses
Not knowing if it’s worth the wait, I waited.
Shindong's heart pounds and his whole body trembles, sounding like a cacophony fresh against his ears. Breathing isn’t difficult, it’s a two step process. But time is rushing by on a never ending green light and breathing only feels harder. Something like having his lungs filled with sand, panting becomes evident.
Wasn’t waiting suppose to make time tick by slower?
Late, but definitely coming. He convinces himself that everything will be fine. She would be here, expectant, excited, and nervous just like he feels.
Hands occupy themselves with the cool wrap of the rose bouquet finding comfort in the smoothness of the ribbon and the soft crinkles of plastic. Petals that bleed crimson, stems that brightens any dull green, scent so crisp scarcely real, all of it everything he saw in dreams of love and romance. He thinks their beautiful just like her and it sends his head spinning with all the possibilities of failure.
Incongruous surrounded by the clean air, casual dressed couples floating around, and sweet laughter of children, he sits fitted in clothes too warm for a summer day and too fancy for a park. He sets the roses besides him, tugs on his sleeves, stretches out the kinks in his body, and settles back down, laying the bundle comfortably in his lap.
It’s different being alone. Alone leaves thoughts for him to ponder on. Too many seconds to disregard jokes and to embrace the seriousness of it all. Alone plays the song of every fly buzzing, every tire screeching, on repeat into his head.
“You know what? You’re a little insane.”
“No, I’m a lot more than a little.”
But being companioned never felt any better. There never was time to think and words come pouring out, unserious and jokingly. Companioned brought everything he didn’t want to hear to life. Like he didn’t already know how out of his mind he was. Couldn’t they just accept him? He had already learned to.
Now, now. It’s really late. The sun is setting and he has already forgotten when he arrived at the park. Maybe when the sun came up, maybe even before that. Yet, he’ll wait, he decides.
“She doesn’t love you, barely even likes you.”
“You don’t know that.”
“….You’re right. I don’t.”
He thinks he probably knew that he would be waiting this long. The long sleeved shirt feels just right for the cold that replaces the sun. He waits.
He waits when the park is deserted, an eerie aura flittering behind in attempt to fill the void. He waits when his mouth becomes dry. He waits when one by one nocturnal creatures wake up and compose another song to his long day's playlist. He waits because as long as he does, he wouldn't have to say he failed.
“She doesn’t like me, huh?”
“You don’t know that.”
“I think I do.”
Wilting, but still as elegant as the moment he brought them. The roses’ petals fall ungracefully, landing around his feet. The thing about roses, once they reached their peak beauty, they begin falling apart. Something like how his love felt.
“Why then?”
“Honestly? I can’t stop myself from wanting to try.”
“You’re hopeless.”
“Not at all. That’s why I’m trying. I’m full of hope.”
He doesn’t know when to give up. It’s not like when his jokes aren’t funny and he can just moves on to the next act. No, it is so entirely different.
This time it’s a person, a person with just as many complex feelings and thoughts as the next. It wouldn’t be fair to categorize her as a joke he could pass up just because he was tired of waiting for a laugh, a reaction.
No it wouldn’t, but did she think of him as anything more than a joke?
“I don’t know whether to think you’re crazy or praise you.”
“We already know I’m crazy, remember? So praise me.”
He is really losing it, truly lost it. The street lights flicker on throughout the park and he is still sits patiently with 12 unrecognizable roses. He fingers the ring in his pocket. The ring, so blissfully unaware of the absence of it should-have-been owner, feels so warm against his icy fingers.
Would love feel that way too?
“Don’t you think it’s time you went home?”
“Will she be there?”
“I’ll be there.”
Shindong doesn’t wonder when he came or where he came from. Just appreciates him, but does wonder how long he would make the man wait like she was making him wait. Deep down in his heart he finds himself hoping it’ll be a short wait.
Roses could only last for so long.
“Do you know how it feels to love someone whose in a rush to throw you away?”
“…no.”
“I know how it feels.“…I waited for that someone tonight.
“Let’s go home.” I promise, you’ll never have to know.
“…”
Author: wontonxx
Pairing: Shindong/Shingdong. implied Shindong/ ?
Genre: Angst
Rating: PG
Length: one-shot, about 800 words
Warnings: AU? , OOC
Disclaimer: i own nothing but the plot.
A/N so, I decided my kibum/eeteuk challenge could wait another day. I was feeling up to writing angst It's not that angst..ish though. &it didn't really turn out the way I wanted. Enjoy please =D and excuse any grammer mistakes. I rushed this one.
032. Roses
Not knowing if it’s worth the wait, I waited.
Shindong's heart pounds and his whole body trembles, sounding like a cacophony fresh against his ears. Breathing isn’t difficult, it’s a two step process. But time is rushing by on a never ending green light and breathing only feels harder. Something like having his lungs filled with sand, panting becomes evident.
Wasn’t waiting suppose to make time tick by slower?
Late, but definitely coming. He convinces himself that everything will be fine. She would be here, expectant, excited, and nervous just like he feels.
Hands occupy themselves with the cool wrap of the rose bouquet finding comfort in the smoothness of the ribbon and the soft crinkles of plastic. Petals that bleed crimson, stems that brightens any dull green, scent so crisp scarcely real, all of it everything he saw in dreams of love and romance. He thinks their beautiful just like her and it sends his head spinning with all the possibilities of failure.
Incongruous surrounded by the clean air, casual dressed couples floating around, and sweet laughter of children, he sits fitted in clothes too warm for a summer day and too fancy for a park. He sets the roses besides him, tugs on his sleeves, stretches out the kinks in his body, and settles back down, laying the bundle comfortably in his lap.
It’s different being alone. Alone leaves thoughts for him to ponder on. Too many seconds to disregard jokes and to embrace the seriousness of it all. Alone plays the song of every fly buzzing, every tire screeching, on repeat into his head.
“You know what? You’re a little insane.”
“No, I’m a lot more than a little.”
But being companioned never felt any better. There never was time to think and words come pouring out, unserious and jokingly. Companioned brought everything he didn’t want to hear to life. Like he didn’t already know how out of his mind he was. Couldn’t they just accept him? He had already learned to.
Now, now. It’s really late. The sun is setting and he has already forgotten when he arrived at the park. Maybe when the sun came up, maybe even before that. Yet, he’ll wait, he decides.
“She doesn’t love you, barely even likes you.”
“You don’t know that.”
“….You’re right. I don’t.”
He thinks he probably knew that he would be waiting this long. The long sleeved shirt feels just right for the cold that replaces the sun. He waits.
He waits when the park is deserted, an eerie aura flittering behind in attempt to fill the void. He waits when his mouth becomes dry. He waits when one by one nocturnal creatures wake up and compose another song to his long day's playlist. He waits because as long as he does, he wouldn't have to say he failed.
“She doesn’t like me, huh?”
“You don’t know that.”
“I think I do.”
Wilting, but still as elegant as the moment he brought them. The roses’ petals fall ungracefully, landing around his feet. The thing about roses, once they reached their peak beauty, they begin falling apart. Something like how his love felt.
“Why then?”
“Honestly? I can’t stop myself from wanting to try.”
“You’re hopeless.”
“Not at all. That’s why I’m trying. I’m full of hope.”
He doesn’t know when to give up. It’s not like when his jokes aren’t funny and he can just moves on to the next act. No, it is so entirely different.
This time it’s a person, a person with just as many complex feelings and thoughts as the next. It wouldn’t be fair to categorize her as a joke he could pass up just because he was tired of waiting for a laugh, a reaction.
No it wouldn’t, but did she think of him as anything more than a joke?
“I don’t know whether to think you’re crazy or praise you.”
“We already know I’m crazy, remember? So praise me.”
He is really losing it, truly lost it. The street lights flicker on throughout the park and he is still sits patiently with 12 unrecognizable roses. He fingers the ring in his pocket. The ring, so blissfully unaware of the absence of it should-have-been owner, feels so warm against his icy fingers.
Would love feel that way too?
“Don’t you think it’s time you went home?”
“Will she be there?”
“I’ll be there.”
Shindong doesn’t wonder when he came or where he came from. Just appreciates him, but does wonder how long he would make the man wait like she was making him wait. Deep down in his heart he finds himself hoping it’ll be a short wait.
Roses could only last for so long.
“Do you know how it feels to love someone whose in a rush to throw you away?”
“…no.”
“I know how it feels.“…I waited for that someone tonight.
“Let’s go home.” I promise, you’ll never have to know.
“…”