𝐌𝐀𝐅𝐈𝐀 𝐕𝐄𝐈𝐍𝐒┃❝ some souls are stiched from sorrow long before they even breath ❞
❛
𝖻𝗈𝗋𝗇 𝗈𝖿 𝘄𝗿𝗲𝗰𝗸𝗮𝗴𝗲, 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗍𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗇 𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗇,
𝗁𝖺𝗅𝖿 𝖺 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗍𝖻𝖾𝖺𝗍, 𝗁𝖺𝗅𝖿 𝖺 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗶𝗻.
𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝘁𝗲𝗮𝗿𝘀 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗄𝗒 𝗐𝗂�...
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𝐄𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐏𝐀𝐒𝐓 ❛ the homecoming of silence ❜
𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐒𝐀𝐘 returning home is like opening a wound that never healed — sometimes it bleeds again, sometimes it scars over stronger, and sometimes, you learn to live with the ache.
a white ribbed turtleneck sweater hugged her figure beneath a black oversized bomber jacket, its silver zipper gleaming under the daylight.
side pockets rested casually against her frame, lending a blend of warmth and attitude.
below, a black pleated mini skirt swayed gently with each step she took. her (h/c) hair was neatly tied in a braided ponytail, strands secured perfectly, not a single one out of place.
the outfit complimented her gracefully, enhancing the quiet confidence she carried.
her (e/c) eyes, calm and unreadable, flickered toward her sister who stood beside her, practically glowing with joy as she looked out over the sprawling city skyline before them.
seoul.
they had arrived.
after years spent away — whether in pursuit of healing, escape, or denial — they were back in the city where everything began and, perhaps, where everything shattered.
y/n stood still for a moment, letting the chilled air of seoul wash over her.
the familiar scent of the city — street food, distant traffic, and faint floral perfumes — filled her lungs.
her lips curled upward slightly, just barely, into a small smile against her (s/c) skin.
fleeting, but sincere.
yuwon, on the other hand, was already on cloud nine.
the older girl’s joy was impossible to miss.
her gray high-waisted trousers flowed with elegance, every seam pressed to perfection.
her oversized light blue blouse, with puffed sleeves and a relaxed collar, danced slightly in the breeze.
she looked like she could twirl in the middle of the sidewalk without a care in the world.
yuwon had always loved seoul.
from the very start, she never wanted to leave.
this city held her memories, her laughter, her dreams. the departure had never been her choice, but a sacrifice she made out of love for her younger sister.
because she loved y/n.
undeniably.
painfully.
y/n, back then, hadn’t been herself.
she had shattered the moment their father left, scattered like pieces of broken glass across a tile floor.
leaving was her attempt to protect herself — to find something, anything, that felt whole.
