City Lights
- Reads 11
- Votes 0
- Parts 1
Ongoing
Last published Fri, Jul 3, 2015
Man kan ikke finde to ens personer i denne store verden. Ikke engang tvillinger kan være ens. DE kan ligne hinanden. Men inderst inde vil alle have sit helt eget jeg. Ligesom snefnug. Man kan aldrig finde to ens snefnug. Mennesker minder faktisk meget om snefnug. En dag vil man tø op og dø. Men en dag finder man måske en der minder meget om en. En man kan elske. Måske engang imellem hade men inderst inde bare elske. Det er ikke alle der oplever den glæde. Men jeg håber inderst inde jeg finder den perfekte et sted i den store verden.
Følg med i Rachels liv i den såkaldte store verden. Hvor alle hænger med hovedet i skærmen, bliver sure over ingenting, laver larm og drikker sig fulde.
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Every century, the gods play a cruel game. They choose one soul. They make them so beautiful that a single glimpse of their bare face stops hearts... literally. Blood freezes. Breath dies. Bodies fall like flowers in frost. Han Jisung is this year's chosen. For three years he's worn the black veil that hides everything but his terrified eyes. For three years he's watched people he loves drop dead the moment the cloth slips. His little brother was the last. Now Jisung lives like a ghost, whispering apologies to the wind, convinced he is a walking graveyard. Until Lee Minho happens. Minho, the broke firewood seller with a mouth meaner than winter and hands gentler than spring. Minho, who insults everyone but carries old ladies home when it snows. Minho, who hears the rumors ("Don't look at the veiled boy, you'll die!") and answers with a bored, "Then I'll die. Move." He drags Jisung out of the angry mob. Gives him his only robe. Feeds him cold rice without asking for the story first. And when Jisung trembles, "You'll die if you see my face..." Minho just snorts. "좋아. 그럼 같이 죽자. (Fine. Then we'll die together.)" They say only true love can look upon the cursed beauty and live. But Minho doesn't believe in fairy tales. He believes in the way Jisung's fingers shake when he eats. In the way Jisung flinches from every shadow except his. In the way those cinnamon eyes look at him... not with fear, but with something dangerous. Hope. So let the whole city call it a death sentence. Minho's already decided: If loving a cursed boy kills him, he'll make sure it's the slowest, warmest death in history. Because for the first time in three years, Han Jisung wants to live. And for the first time in his entire life, Lee Minho wants to smile.
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