Young Gods

# stars .

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YOUNG GODS
by legilimens
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( i'm the king and you're the queen and we will stumble through heaven. )

Smoke clears, a poisonous gas that fills her senses- clouding her mind with euphoria, indecision, dizziness, familiarity- that slowly crawls to her system like a virus catching it's willing prey, and she sees him.

The lights flicker, colours dancing- random, in different hues, unrelenting, disturbing, violent- across the dance floor, and his eyes catches the sight of her.

They fall in love; two people visibly in ruins with their addiction and it's enthralling in so many ways that none's the wiser to even start on figuring it out.

( if there's a light in the end, it's just the sun in your eyes. )

It is way too complicated: her position stands at the end of the cliff and his life is in shams.

She wonders if letting go is the most plausible way to stop it all, to cut off her frustrations and go back to the life she once had.

He thinks that he's way too tired for this, asking his friends' opinions about what they would feel if he ever abandon them.

Both their answers remains unaccomplished, but, as his hand tugs on her hair and her nails digs on his skin, both looking- searching- for ways to relieve their desperation, it didn't matter.

Just as long as they can stay together.

( i know you wanna go to heaven, but you're human tonight. )

They hide and no one knows.

They fuck- hard, fast, with passion, sweaty, excruciating- and nobody would even dare ask where the both of them had gone to.

It is on those fleeting moments that each felt free, and still, it doesn't matter.

She would still cry that night and he would still be trapped once he gets back.

( drowning my thoughts out with the sounds )

"I think I love you."

She laughs, head tipping sideways as the ends of her hair dips down the water. "You can't be serious."

He shakes his head, fingers deftly tracing down her arm, leaving trail of droplets to ghost against her pale skin.

With a frown, she regards him again, eyes filled with questions and insecurity and uncertainty whilst he stares back. "Since when?" she whispers softly after a few more seconds, the swell of her breasts peeking under the surface.

He ignores her nakedness, of course, lost in the erratic strum of his heart that's beating against the palm of her hand. "Ever since I first saw you- the real you."

( and they're running, running, running )

Her mask only slips when she's settled inside her van, fingers raking her hair and face flushed- her dull eyes watching the scene outside as people scream for her name; for the person that is covering her real identity, for the person who keeps up her stance even when she's crumbling inside- even when the one hiding under the façade, that is Jung Soojung, is falling apart.

... and so does he.

( and we'll be running, running, running again )

It is better off hidden because people would never understand; they will judge, they will point fingers, they would say what they would want to say and- fuck, why should it matter?

As long as her taste and scent lingers, the phantom slide of her legs against his, entwined in his sheets, succumbs him, that's what matters.

No pretenses.

Not Kai of Exo, nor Krystal of f(x).

Just Kim Jongin and Jung Soojung.

( we'll be running, running, running )