For what is the tenderest, the most ardent of all passions is born always with sorrow, for what lover does not sigh, what lover does not grieve in his first days of passion, thinking that he is not loved mutually?
- Nikolay Karamzin
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The ends of Zhenya's fingertips are white, almost matching his skin color. How come it doesn't hurt?
TaekJoo doesn't know whenever he should be more concerned about his strange question or the fact that his squeeze doesn't hurt.
But then again, everything Zhenya has done so far, was nothing but strange.
"What?" He replied back. That seemed to only egnite Zhenya more. With the other hand that was free, Zhenya touched his forehead, his expression remained poker. His demeanor was strange and it creeped him out. Yevgeny gets these moments whenever he is around this damn korean.
His mind is a maze, with no way out, cluthing his fist. His body language spoke for him. TaekJoo could swear he saw... Confusion? Those eyes off his hold secrets no one could decipher. Only he himself.
"Spitting a flame at a place where you shouldn't. Are you doing this on purpose?"
The sun has long gone hanged on the cloudy sky. Trees crowns were leaning in the rythm of the wind. The snow did not melt, nor it stayed its shape from the night.
Yet again, out if melancholy feeling, earning, or perhaps sadness, a song began. This time, it was not the one TaekJoo knew like the back of his hand.
In amidst the loud rustling of frozen leaves underneath their feet, they didn't hear or even register.
Never had Zhenya tried restraining himself. Why on earth would he? Hamsters eat their own kin, when they get hungry, or feel a thread.
So why should he? He is not any different from a simple animal.
Never he limited himself of doing something he wanted. It is what he wanted after all. What the others have to do, is to obey. Give in to him.
Why was it so hard now? What was it he even wanted? Did he want to know? Fór Zhenya it was a foreign, unpleasant feeling. His jaw tightened, almost wanting to break in his teeth from anger.
Not wanting to let go, holding on until his fingertips turn white, depicts the strong will of wanting to hold on to it. Regardless of the strenght, TaekJoo was not hurting. Instead, it was Zhenya
YOU ARE READING
"ZAIKA"
FanficThough it seems his past got swept under the rug, he could not be more wrong. What happens when the person who still haunts him to this day, finds his whereabouts? That one being the one and only Psikh Bogdanov.
