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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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐄𝐓 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐅𝐓 ❛ soft smiles, heavy hearts ❜
𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐒, silence isn't the absence of words, but the presence of restraint — a decision not to bleed where no one is willing to bandage.
the first morning of y/n and yuwon's stay in korea came quietly.
pale sunlight filtered through gray curtains, casting long, lazy shadows over the room. the air was cool, still holding onto the last breath of night.
y/n stirred beneath a soft, fluffy blanket, her body cocooned in its warmth.
she blinked at the ceiling for a moment, unmoving, then shifted and sat up. her hand reached for the phone on the bedside table, but her eyes were drawn first to the clock on the wall.
7:34 a.m.
with a sigh, she slid out of bed and shuffled to the bathroom.
warm water splashed against her face, sharp and biting, washing away the remnants of a dream she couldn't quite remember.
she dabbed her face dry with a towel and returned to her room only long enough to grab her phone before heading downstairs.
the kitchen was already occupied.
riza, their mother, stood by the stove with her back turned, hands gently folding slices of bread into sandwiches. the smell of toasted grains and tea lingered in the air.
her ears perked up at the sound of footsteps. she turned, a bright smile blooming on her lips.
"good morning, y/n."
y/n didn't respond. she didn't even glance in her direction.
she walked to the fridge, opened it, and pulled out a chilled can of orange juice — safe, non-dairy. her fingers curled around the cold aluminum, and without another word, she turned and left.
riza watched her go, the corners of her smile faltering.
she didn't cry — she had prepared herself for this — but the silence stung all the same. still, she went back to the sandwiches, lips pressed into a thin line as she cut the crusts off neatly.
upstairs, y/n sat cross-legged on her bed, sipping from the can and scrolling through her phone.
her fingers moved mechanically, her mind barely processing what she saw. once the juice was finished, she tossed the empty into the bin and plugged her phone in to charge, as it was only 12 percent.
routine was her armor.
she headed to the bathroom again, this time for a proper shower. hot water poured over her skin, fogging up the mirror and loosening the tension in her shoulders.
