Happiness.
The word; the meaning.
Bright, full of life? Something that warmed the heart and calmed the soul?
Something every human being was supposed to strive and fight for?
A concept.
An abstract idea?
A thought?
A feeling?
Equally accessible and attainable by all?
Definitely not. Some spent their whole life looking for it, never got it. Some didn't have to do anything for it. Some always had it.
What was happiness?
Was it real?
✿✿✿✿
Closing his eyes, he thought over when he was happy the last time.
When their album had come out; he'd been happy.
When he had hugged all his band mates, he had felt it.
And most of all, when he sat with her, he felt it. An overwhelming feeling of warmth, something spreading over his whole being. Soothing, coaxing him into the idea of life. Flowing over his heart like honey, dripping into him.
And with a jolt, he realised.
(Y/N).
Happiness was (Y/N).
The feeling of her hand in his;
the look in her eyes;
the soft pink hues on her cheeks;
the pink of her lips;
and the song of her laugh.
(Y/N) took over the meaning of happiness for him.
YOU ARE READING
Sofa || Young K
Short StoryYou were sitting on that sofa, telling me, "Child it's over." So far, I still miss you here, so far. ||Young K x Reader||
