HIYO.
act i, scene iv —
5: 40 a.m.
the next day.
for the first time in a long while,
silver felt like thing of the past.
all she feels now is gold.
THE SUN gleamed against their backs of tousled fabric and sea foam-smelling hair as they munched on silk-skinned apricots, smiling through sticky gums, legs thrown over the wooden dock to let the rushing crystalline waters below tickle their bare feet. the sweetness of the fruit drips onto bitter hands and begs to stay, but bad outweighs the good no matter how much false hope and white lies try to justify otherwise. fate allowed eden to corrupt, but little did they know that eden had always been corrupt, and roseate-colored apricots would only let corruption be known. lest we forget that eden was heaven struck on earth, look to the right and be reminded of the boy embodied by a million angels ( four wings, two heads, the horror! ) and feel safe in his presence. eat your uneasiness away and blind yourself with the tanginess of eden's gifts.
"my grandmother and i always used to buy a fresh box of apricots on days like these," she this won't last rubs the pad of her thumb against the dense pink fuzz of the fruit, reminiscing the days when love was merely puppy love, before the gods had turned off the earth's light like a switch. "sunny days, yet also clouded gray, when the breeze lets us run freely on sugar highs in her backyard without getting tired."
"a perfect day it sounds like," he hums, wiping the sweetness from his fruity lips. she nods, eyes drifting away into her hands with a sad smile he could only read as being deep in thought. if only he could carry those hands, the angels sigh, her hazy perception of the world, the twisted delusions of the scared little girl ( is it a crime to wish for happiness? ).
"so where are your parents?" he asks. the wind is cool against her skin today, brushing the small hairs on her goose-bumped arm with the sound of his honeydew voice and she smelled bitterness entrapped in the words that wisps from his tongue. she leers a spoken silence that only he who was so close to her could hear, as well as her calm heartbeat that mimicked the sea rippling against their ears.
"they're dead," she mutters in the pause. "i killed them." shut the fuck up she looks down at her clean hands, sticky hands, the redredred bloodredblood on her hands, the memories. oh, the memories! she shakes her head. she sounds like a madwoman. but in his eyes, he understands.
"they ran away." the truth. her voice tumbles over like air, like the rolling clouds whilst the angels weep sadly remembering the times when they could hear it, her voice, oh so clearly. when her voice wasn't air but a hurricane, a natural, beautiful disaster that came with gusto, with the clouds, but not like them.
"i'm sorry," he looks at her, his eyes sharp like razors like the thorns of a red rose cutting into her so she winces, and looks his way. "it wasn't your fault."
"i never know anymore" it was always your FAULT
perhaps if they had met in a different scenario. in another place, another time, another hiyo; an okay hiyo, their silence would have been more comfortable.
perhaps, with an okay hiyo, they wouldn't have met at all.
"how did you meet me?" he asks. the beauty in his voice, more prominent, more evident of his past mistakes and the misery he inducted on himself. the hesitance, the trembling fear curled up in a ball inside his mind where certainly no roses or apricots bloomed. he didn't want to remind hiyo of her dark times, not when she's with him. he wasn't that kind of person.
"how did i meet you? hm," she leans back, resting her arms behind her as her shoulders pique.
"i don't believe in fate, yoongi— but i have a real gut feeling that me meeting you was."
note; ohhhhhhhhh my god i'm so sorry it's been so long since i updated hiyo!!!!!!! school is honestly so stressful and i'm really trying my best to get out of this hiatus i didn't choose to be on, so please hang in there xoxo
