LOVE COUNTDOWN is a one-shot writing contest for Valentine's Day, showcasing elegant written pieces by Decelis Academy members and non-members using love songs as February - the month of admiration and love - nears.
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Votes & comments are always we...
The first flutter of my heart and the first falter of it. Sometimes I backtrack and think I would have been better off if it stopped just beating at all. But the ecstasy that came with loving him was so bittersweet, how could I have possibly shut it down by choice?
Even as Yeosang is just a shell looking for another heart to fill his void. Even if his eyes are like a weapon, teasing someone into choosing the dead-end; preying on them until he decides it's time to swallow whole. Even if only a fool would willingly choose to retaliate and take the quick bullet.
I don't regret it.
I agreed to have my heart become the stake to a challenge he calls love. He'd wage a war against me to win, never minding the cracks he caused. I confess to it all. In the end, he will stitch me back together with sweet nothings and a thread. He is great at sewing; at piercing my skin.
Undeniably, there is something sharp about the likeness of Kang Yeosang.
Even as the same sharpness carves up my chest and hollows out my lungs, I am lovesick. Even as the cold of the bullet pierces my skin, I am lovesick. And I don't care; I like how it shimmers if the angle's right. I find comfort in its soft glow and how the metal artillery seems to be created to fit right between his fingers. Created for him to point at my face. I know he finds comfort in it, too.
"I love you." He mutters as his soft fingertips stray across my cheekbone. It makes my heart skip. I love him too. I love him so bad. His eyes are so soft, so gentle. Everything about Yeosang can be gentle, caring, and yet I feel as if I am a bird trapped in a cage. And in between the bars I can see it so clearly. Even as his fingers trace my feathers so pleasantly, I want to belong to myself again. I want to make my own heart skip– I want to be able to fly on my own.
I should know how to, it was natural to me once. So, why can't I? Have I forgotten? Have my wings truly been taken? I built this cage myself. I am the reason why I am unable to fly. "I know." My voice is steady when these uncertain words leave my throat.
From the way my face tilts his way, he knows all battles have been lost. But he tries once more, like the war criminal he truly is. "Do you not love me too?" His voice is small. He tries for my heart once more. It really is only the desperates in us now.
And for the first time he's the one to shimmer beneath faint amber lights. It hurts. I learn there is nothing victorious about winning. It is bitter; I've gained my freedom, yet the metal taste on my tongue remains.
We could have been happy.
I realize, and my heart breaks once more, "You know I do." I manage to say. It's almost like I can hear the chambers of our hearts shatter, leaving him with nothing but a hole bigger than before. My skin is screaming like it has been set ablaze, and there is nothing I can do to extinguish our pain. Not this time. My body scrambles, it truly does; it rushes to create a salt that bites at my cheeks.
"Thensay it to me, please." Everything in me protests at his words. We shouldn't put ourselves through this anymore. If I can't save him, I have to, at least, save myself. "Yeosang..." I sigh. His breath hitches and he attempts to blink the tears in his eyes back, into nothingness. "I love you." He tries desperately. It doesn't work. My own tears try to chip away at my skin, but the stinging sensation doesn't compare to the throbbing in my gut.
He carefully grabs my face and trembles so violently, as if his bones might break. And for a moment I believe they will. His sobs suffocate us one final time and I'm the one to blame. My heart aches for him but my conscience knows better; he must be his own savior from now on. I resign from the job.
As a final goodbye, I allow my pulse to skip at the sight of him. He is so breathtakingly beautiful. "Do you not believe me?" He urges. He is so persistent in trying to prevent me from leaving that I almost give in. I can only gaze at him silently and pity him for being this way. I pity myself for staying this long. But still, I don't think I regret it.
I hope to remember who I first met, not the person he turned out to be.
It's my turn to let my fingers trace along his forehead. I take my time, afraid to forget every detail about him. I graze over the beauty mark that decorates his face and wrap my arms around his torso. My mind quietly prays for the clock to stop ticking and the world to stop spinning. Why couldn't we stay like this?
"Have I not proven enough?" He whispers. Then, suddenly, for a moment, I want to see how his glassy skin harshly cracks beneath my touch, but I decide against it. Instead, I carefully wipe the tears from under his eyes and let him down slowly. He grabs my hand weakly, but it slips away as I stand up.
In this lighting, where I look down on him, and where tears sprout from his eyes so beautifully– "I'll do better, I promise." And at this moment, where he begs me to try appreciate him once more, I am still a lovesick fool.
Kang Yeosang, I hate you. And I cannot help but pray for you to be my forever last, too.
