━━ l'amour dans l'arte 🖇 •
I. min yoongi
❝ You really need to
stop putting me in your paintings. ❞ He said, a light smirk on his lips, amusement gleeming behind his eyes.
❝ What? I wasn't- ❞
❝ Save me the theatrics, sweetheart.
I know a liar...
─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ chapter nine ; it's a familiar feeling, having your heart race with each step, your palms sweat, the entire room feeling like it is sinking into nothingness.
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NARA WANTED nothing more than to be in the comfort of her own bed, dozing off. Instead, she's stuck making small conversations with businessmen of high ranking, alongside actors and actresses that she knew, some she didn't.
Events like these always left a bitter taste, memories of what it was like living with a family whose day to day consisted of media image, and extravagant lifestyle - not that Nara wasn't grateful. She always thought of herself as lucky, perhaps more fortunate than others.
Living under a big roof, with food everyday, and having the luxury to pick out clothes without even blinking an eye at the price, she considered herself favored, blessed, but that didn't mean she was happy all the time, or happy at all. Pressure was something she was well accustomed to, but she didn't like it. The thought of having to be the innocent daughter who made no mistake was enough to keep her from truly enjoying her teenage life.
A small slip up, and it would be goodbye dream college. It was like a never ending circle of torture for her. She was held up with a string, being pulled and controlled by a puppeteer. Every move, every slight action was monitored.
But she's always set aside these thoughts, feeling guilty for disliking her life when she had everything, and could get more than everything within a snap of her fingers. Really, she was treading a thin line, being twenty-three and away from her parents control - not that her mother ever stopped keeping an eye on her.
She was all the way in Daegu, yet she had managed to be able to keep up with what Nara's attending to. If the girl skipped a class for a few minutes to grab a cup of coffee, her mother would immediately let her know that she knew what she was doing. It was like a suffocating force to beckon with. It felt like she was stuck in a small box, only really being able to see the dark.
Recently, though, her mother hasn't been in contact. Nara thought, it was most likely because she was living with Taehyung now, and that thought alone made her blood boil in the slightest. She wished her mother trusted her, hoped that she would be able to do the right thing - and it wasn't like she was a problem child. She was far from that, but Taehyung was far from that, too.
He was the trusted one in the family. The one her mother adored since he had popped out of her belly. Nara always looked up to Taehyung, seeing him in such a perfect light.
But as she grew older, she also grew to realise that it was all an act. A mask her brother wore every time he was within proximity of the Kim family. He wasn't a bad person behind the mask, but he did have secrets hidden in his sleeves. It was then, Nara had discovered that nobody was perfect. Not even the dream child that is her brother.
