celestial strings | h.js

one.

Seconds ticked by as you and Jisung stared at each other; him with determination and you with anxiety. He was watching your every move, or at least it seemed like he was observing every churn of your muscles.

It almost felt as if he had already predicted your backup plans and was ready to strike out a solution at any given moment. And if he noticed the way your hands were trembling, he had chosen to give you the time to deal with it instead of butting in.

What could you do, [Name]? You have dealt with so many problems on your own before. You have managed to sneak out of your home and leave the city you once resided in without leaving a single trail. You have managed to create yourself a brand new identity and conceal your magic from plain sight. You have managed to go several years without shelter nor stability over your head.

You got over so many things, including letting the wrong people know your magic and the act of memory erasure, so why did your head suddenly start stumping just because this time, it involved Han Jisung? Why was it hard for you to wipe a small piece of memory this time?

You looked up at him, your eyes wide and glittery as though there were tears of concern withering underneath them. Jisung softened at your vulnerable state and it almost compelled him to drop the matter altogether. But you had thrown him over the edge of a gate and blasted him across his own bedroom, and you have dead parents and no home to go back to.

Nothing that has happened were ordinary things. None of what he heard about you was daily news to him. Not only did he deserve an explanation from you, he would also never forgive himself if he does not take the opportunity to get everything answered.

"I am your friend, [Name]," he whispered, his eyes wide with sincerity.

Right. He is your friend, and just that simple fact made everything so much harder for you to disclose. You were juggling this friendship at the tip of your fingers, uncertainty floating everywhere. The idea of him slipping away was haunting. The idea of your dropping back to where you begin was haunting.

"You can tell me," he persuaded, not stepping over to you yet but simply choosing to use verbal comfort. "I can help you. Let me help you."

You let out a strained noise at the back of your throat. He was talking like you have major problems going on in your life, which you certainly have! You just haven't gotten the time to realize it. As days go by, you have gotten used to how your life has turned out, and the bad became normal to you.

Your dead family, your empty home, the city council, the fear of authority, the pressure of early maturation, the loneliness—they all suddenly started to fill your head up like a storm; twisting and swirling to destroy all that was left inside of you. It was like everything was coming back to you at once, forcing you to remember and to reminisce.

Jisung held back a gasp when you glared at him. Your eyes were teary but no tears fell, and he somehow knew that the anger burning within was not directed at him. He was baffled, for sure. He had never seen you on the verge of tears before. But he was more empathetic than surprised. He wondered how much you have really been through in your past, how much you had to endure on your own and he never knew of.

"Jisung..." You voice was small as you finally spoke, but he heard you and he replied. When you looked at him, you gulped. "I don't know where to start."

Finding the right words to describe your childhood, from its timeline to its tragedies, should be easy since everything had happened for a reason, and one thing led to another. But you did not know where to begin, somehow. Going to the root of all things felt like you trying to make sense of your trauma, but there is never sense in those things. There is only a cause and an end, and you have yet to reach the end.