Fear | K.th [Editing]

"To Live or to die" [80°]

⚠️TW: MARTYRDOM⚠️

She stares past her feet, pale from being shielded away from the sun, and down at the city. Gulping when she feels her limbs begin to tremble as the wind seamlessly passes through her like she were nothing; a mindless ant working on a planet no bigger than a thumb compared to the rest of the universe.

Her shoulders move back, null eyes landing on the two sleek men as they cautiously approach her from the entry of the apartment. She chuckles derisively, thinking this was the pinnacle of it all; how convenient they come at a time like this.

Her fingers wrapped around the spine of a wine glass, a flavorful Moscato for the evening endeavors. Her slim body adorned in a floral halter dress, wrists decorated with jewelry, and she even had time to do her hair as she awaits her destiny. Lips tinted a pink hue, pressed in a firm line as she tries to hold back her grief for whatever is about to happen between the three.

The evening, for her, stricken with melancholy as she had planned her outfit for tonight, her meal, the nice bath she had drawn, and even finished the book she had been meaning to read for awhile.

They watch her from a few feet away, the way her slender legs move back and forth on the stone ledge. As she tiptoes over the cracks of the marble. She's tipsy, not a care in the world as her arms rise to embrace her surroundings. A small tune plays at her lips as she hums the melody. The sounds of cars passing and honking down below play a part in her symphony. Purples and reds splash behind her eyelids as she performs.

Korain watches her from inside the room, lollipop tucked between his tongue and the side of his cheek. Fingers entwined with the loop holes of his faux leathered bell bottoms on the harsher side of vermilion. Resting his weight on his left leg as he leans against the doorframe. His interest is slightly intrigued with the situation before him, fiddling with the crystal around his neck.

Taehyung's attention remains on the woman carelessly dancing around death like it was an old friend. It was bitter, in a sense, knowing why she dances now, now that the two of them are placed into her final destination. She never dreamed that her life wouldn't continue beyond this point, however, in the back of her mind she had subconsciously been preparing herself to appear unwavering during her last show.

She stops moving about, legs turning to face the two men. Her lips part to sip some more wine, gaze somber. She lowers herself before she's sitting down on the ledge staring back at them. She places the glass down quietly beside her, the wavy curls in her hair bouncing as she shifts.

"I've gotten older," She says distatefully, shaking her head to further her point. "They, they don't want old...they want new bodies. I mean nothing anymore and I have nothing to show for." Her fingers caress her neck and then her arm as if she could feel her skin aging before her.

She's too caught up on the materialistic values of youth and beauty, morals too clogged with the 'have beens' or 'could've's' to be saved now. The woman has made up her mind that this was her only choice. It's terrible, for her to hurt herself by obsessing over what was never meant to last.

She looks out into the city once more over her boney shoulder, taking a deep breath of culmination. "I want to be remembered for who I am, not who I was." It was a weird monologue she had also prepared for this moment, anticipating what she couldn't see, rather, sense. "You've been in love before, haven't you?"

She doesn't expect an answer to her question, her statement going up in the air along with the rest of her words. It was an odd question at that, asking two murderers if they feel emotion—maybe it was to ease her restless mind, perhaps it could relieve her thought of them being mer heartless monsters.