the étude of life
Title: the étude of life
Author: ajin
Pairing: Junhyung/Hyunseung
Rating: PG-15
Genre: AU, Romance, Angst
Word Count: 1,196
Summary: How Junhyung learns the ways of the world or how Hyunseung opens his eyes.
Author's Note of Doom: This is completely the fault of "Norwegian Wood" (the movie). Ever since I saw it, I have been wanting to write one particular scene. Once I got my hands on the soundtrack yesterday, it all fell into place. If you listen to it while reading this fic, you will probably be able to understand it better.
Written also with izon-no-niwa in mind. I will try to stick to this ship for as long as I can <3
He can’t help but stare. As always. It’s a never-ending game. Older even than time itself.
Milky white skin. Looks so soft to touch. Lips slightly parted. Were pink but now look chapped. Like a fog spread itself around. Cold breath coming out in the form of smoky clouds. Floating. Disappearing into thin air. Eyes casted down. Looking up. Up and down. Lips quivering. A sigh.
“It just wouldn’t work.”
All the snow around. Wherever he looks, it’s completely white. Still and silent. Splashes of white falling down. Softly reaching the ground. Laying a blanket. He’s frozen inside and it’s not because it’s cold outside. White mountains with dry, yellow grass. Trembling, shivering in the wind. He’s reminded of deserts or oceans bound by ice. It’s freezing the right atrium. Unyielding flames stroking the pulmonary veins. Needles driving into the valves. As if someone was trying to grab his heart and squeeze its fragile life out.
“You’re right.”
Our worlds are way too far.
Earth comes to a halt. Minutes colliding with seconds and pushing hours to the sides. It’s almost palpable. Tick. Tack. Tick. Tack. Before the world starts ticking again, he gets up.
There are awkward introductions made by mutual friends and forced handshakes. Sweaty palms and gleaming eyes. He swears they should have been green because they reminded him too much of cat’s eyes. Sharp eyelashes that were threatening to stab. He thought he was overreacting but the impression might have been just right.
“Hyunseung.”
He feels the room move with the music. The beat is fast. He even doesn’t notice the mirrors around. There’s only one person he sees now. Trying to meld with the melody and grab the notes. Makes the meaning of life seem so easy to find at that one moment. Like he needs just to blink. Just to close his eyes. He’s a permanent decoration. Stuck to the walls and not worth a glance.
I really want to give you a sincere smile.
“Why do you think stars are in the sky?”
“Why? Would you like them to be on the ground?”
“They would illuminate everything from underneath, then. Never really wanted them to be there but that would look so nice.”
“I think they fit in the sky just right.”
“But you can’t touch them if they’re in the sky.”
“Why would you want to touch the stars? They would stop being so beautiful if you could just grab them whenever you wished to. They would become like flowers. They’re pretty but every now and then I have enough of them.”
“And all the girls say you’re so romantic. They all must be blind. You’re too practical.”
“No. Beautiful things are better when you watch them from afar.”
Do you want to watch me from afar?
All the giggles. He feels like he’s being assaulted by fakeness. It’s overbearing. Sticky, pink lip gloss. Black, pointy lines. Eager hands. It’s not normal that he wants to get out but he does. Oh, how he does.
He curls the fingers tightly into her shirt. Kisses. Lets his hands slide down. It’s as if he’s on autopilot. He doesn’t even need to think to do it right. Somehow he’s disgusted. With himself. But even more with the people around because everything looks like it’s made of oil which was burned last week with fries on a pan.
“Hey, have you ever been in love?”
“…”
“Is that a yes?”
“No, I have not.”
“Is there someone you like?”
“I don’t know. It’s hard to tell if you have no idea what love feels like.”
“I guess you’re right.”
There are heavy clouds gathering over his head and clouding his mind. The world is such an unfair place. Although he knows it’s not, he’s just being selfish, he just wants fairy tales to be true and he wants all that he wishes for to materialize.
They walk in silence. The words are almost unnecessary when it’s just two of them. The air they breathe is like a secret language. Each exhale and inhale. Longer and shorter. Words and sentences and questions and exclamations. He sighs.
Accidental brush of fingers in a coffee shop. Accelerating heartbeat. Pulse way too high. Pupils dilate. Breath gets scarce. Soft whispers sending goose bumps.
When they talk about nothing at all, he just wishes to frame the moment. Wants to paint the way his eyes sparkle. Wants to capture it on a photograph. Wants to write songs about. And it’s all those fleeting moments that make him realize.
“Wanna play a game?”
“What kind?”
“Have you ever broken anyone’s heart?”
“Why? Do you want to make a bet?”
“Maybe…”
“You might be the expert in breaking hearts but I really don’t think you should treat it as a game.”
“Afraid that I would go for yours?”
“No, I’m scared that you would hurt yourself in the end.”
He goes in circles in the aisle. Frustrated at how words are slipping him and melting into puddles at his feet. He’s convinced that everyone is against him. His family, friends, god. There are too many smiles he’s not responsible for and too many moments spent apart. It’s never enough.
She looks at him likes he’s a stranger all of the sudden. Lets him kiss her. Kisses back but there’s so much stiffness. He doesn’t understand why they decide to have sex. Unpoetic.
He thinks she might have known him better than anyone else. It’s too late though. His heart has been changed and flew in the sky with the white petals floating around. And somehow, somehow he feels guilty. Not that he stays to hold her in his arms.
He leans forward. It’s all in slow motion. Mostly because he’s so terrified. Even if he has done it thousands of times, his heart acts like a caged bird. Wings desperately flapping about.
They spend what feels like centuries being still. He is hold captive by the cat’s eyes.
When he moves again, it suddenly feels so rushed. Maybe because everything is spinning around him. A rollercoaster all over. His head is light. Just a soft touch.
He entangles his fingers in the silky hair. Their noses almost brush. He hasn’t even realized that one of his hands was digging into his hip. As if he needs something concrete to actually stand up. The temperature is steadily going up and up. And now he’s desperate because he kisses back. The stabbing eyelashes flutter shut. Their mingling breaths. He drowns in it. His sanity gone with the speed of light.
It feels like a heavy weight has been placed on his back. The snow tickles his eyelids. Makes his eyes blink too much. It’s almost ironic how well the scenery fits. He would normally laugh.
He wanted to trust him. Wanted to let him crush his walls. He took a step forward but it’s seems it’s never enough. It’s not how it should be though. Because his heart is constricted like someone tied it tightly with a rope. His hands are trembling and if it all has happened differently…He would normally cry.
“Junhyung, it just wouldn’t work.”
“You’re right.”
I won.
All my titles are intentional so here it goes (as said by the almighty wikipedia):
Étude (a French word meaning study), is an instrumental musical composition, most commonly of considerable difficulty, usually designed to provide practice material for perfecting a particular technical skill.
And just a hint. The last paragraph is written from a different POV ;p
Author: ajin
Pairing: Junhyung/Hyunseung
Rating: PG-15
Genre: AU, Romance, Angst
Word Count: 1,196
Summary: How Junhyung learns the ways of the world or how Hyunseung opens his eyes.
Author's Note of Doom: This is completely the fault of "Norwegian Wood" (the movie). Ever since I saw it, I have been wanting to write one particular scene. Once I got my hands on the soundtrack yesterday, it all fell into place. If you listen to it while reading this fic, you will probably be able to understand it better.
Written also with izon-no-niwa in mind. I will try to stick to this ship for as long as I can <3
He can’t help but stare. As always. It’s a never-ending game. Older even than time itself.
Milky white skin. Looks so soft to touch. Lips slightly parted. Were pink but now look chapped. Like a fog spread itself around. Cold breath coming out in the form of smoky clouds. Floating. Disappearing into thin air. Eyes casted down. Looking up. Up and down. Lips quivering. A sigh.
“It just wouldn’t work.”
All the snow around. Wherever he looks, it’s completely white. Still and silent. Splashes of white falling down. Softly reaching the ground. Laying a blanket. He’s frozen inside and it’s not because it’s cold outside. White mountains with dry, yellow grass. Trembling, shivering in the wind. He’s reminded of deserts or oceans bound by ice. It’s freezing the right atrium. Unyielding flames stroking the pulmonary veins. Needles driving into the valves. As if someone was trying to grab his heart and squeeze its fragile life out.
“You’re right.”
Our worlds are way too far.
Earth comes to a halt. Minutes colliding with seconds and pushing hours to the sides. It’s almost palpable. Tick. Tack. Tick. Tack. Before the world starts ticking again, he gets up.
There are awkward introductions made by mutual friends and forced handshakes. Sweaty palms and gleaming eyes. He swears they should have been green because they reminded him too much of cat’s eyes. Sharp eyelashes that were threatening to stab. He thought he was overreacting but the impression might have been just right.
“Hyunseung.”
He feels the room move with the music. The beat is fast. He even doesn’t notice the mirrors around. There’s only one person he sees now. Trying to meld with the melody and grab the notes. Makes the meaning of life seem so easy to find at that one moment. Like he needs just to blink. Just to close his eyes. He’s a permanent decoration. Stuck to the walls and not worth a glance.
I really want to give you a sincere smile.
“Why do you think stars are in the sky?”
“Why? Would you like them to be on the ground?”
“They would illuminate everything from underneath, then. Never really wanted them to be there but that would look so nice.”
“I think they fit in the sky just right.”
“But you can’t touch them if they’re in the sky.”
“Why would you want to touch the stars? They would stop being so beautiful if you could just grab them whenever you wished to. They would become like flowers. They’re pretty but every now and then I have enough of them.”
“And all the girls say you’re so romantic. They all must be blind. You’re too practical.”
“No. Beautiful things are better when you watch them from afar.”
Do you want to watch me from afar?
All the giggles. He feels like he’s being assaulted by fakeness. It’s overbearing. Sticky, pink lip gloss. Black, pointy lines. Eager hands. It’s not normal that he wants to get out but he does. Oh, how he does.
He curls the fingers tightly into her shirt. Kisses. Lets his hands slide down. It’s as if he’s on autopilot. He doesn’t even need to think to do it right. Somehow he’s disgusted. With himself. But even more with the people around because everything looks like it’s made of oil which was burned last week with fries on a pan.
“Hey, have you ever been in love?”
“…”
“Is that a yes?”
“No, I have not.”
“Is there someone you like?”
“I don’t know. It’s hard to tell if you have no idea what love feels like.”
“I guess you’re right.”
There are heavy clouds gathering over his head and clouding his mind. The world is such an unfair place. Although he knows it’s not, he’s just being selfish, he just wants fairy tales to be true and he wants all that he wishes for to materialize.
They walk in silence. The words are almost unnecessary when it’s just two of them. The air they breathe is like a secret language. Each exhale and inhale. Longer and shorter. Words and sentences and questions and exclamations. He sighs.
Accidental brush of fingers in a coffee shop. Accelerating heartbeat. Pulse way too high. Pupils dilate. Breath gets scarce. Soft whispers sending goose bumps.
When they talk about nothing at all, he just wishes to frame the moment. Wants to paint the way his eyes sparkle. Wants to capture it on a photograph. Wants to write songs about. And it’s all those fleeting moments that make him realize.
“Wanna play a game?”
“What kind?”
“Have you ever broken anyone’s heart?”
“Why? Do you want to make a bet?”
“Maybe…”
“You might be the expert in breaking hearts but I really don’t think you should treat it as a game.”
“Afraid that I would go for yours?”
“No, I’m scared that you would hurt yourself in the end.”
He goes in circles in the aisle. Frustrated at how words are slipping him and melting into puddles at his feet. He’s convinced that everyone is against him. His family, friends, god. There are too many smiles he’s not responsible for and too many moments spent apart. It’s never enough.
She looks at him likes he’s a stranger all of the sudden. Lets him kiss her. Kisses back but there’s so much stiffness. He doesn’t understand why they decide to have sex. Unpoetic.
He thinks she might have known him better than anyone else. It’s too late though. His heart has been changed and flew in the sky with the white petals floating around. And somehow, somehow he feels guilty. Not that he stays to hold her in his arms.
He leans forward. It’s all in slow motion. Mostly because he’s so terrified. Even if he has done it thousands of times, his heart acts like a caged bird. Wings desperately flapping about.
They spend what feels like centuries being still. He is hold captive by the cat’s eyes.
When he moves again, it suddenly feels so rushed. Maybe because everything is spinning around him. A rollercoaster all over. His head is light. Just a soft touch.
He entangles his fingers in the silky hair. Their noses almost brush. He hasn’t even realized that one of his hands was digging into his hip. As if he needs something concrete to actually stand up. The temperature is steadily going up and up. And now he’s desperate because he kisses back. The stabbing eyelashes flutter shut. Their mingling breaths. He drowns in it. His sanity gone with the speed of light.
It feels like a heavy weight has been placed on his back. The snow tickles his eyelids. Makes his eyes blink too much. It’s almost ironic how well the scenery fits. He would normally laugh.
He wanted to trust him. Wanted to let him crush his walls. He took a step forward but it’s seems it’s never enough. It’s not how it should be though. Because his heart is constricted like someone tied it tightly with a rope. His hands are trembling and if it all has happened differently…He would normally cry.
“Junhyung, it just wouldn’t work.”
“You’re right.”
I won.
All my titles are intentional so here it goes (as said by the almighty wikipedia):
Étude (a French word meaning study), is an instrumental musical composition, most commonly of considerable difficulty, usually designed to provide practice material for perfecting a particular technical skill.
And just a hint. The last paragraph is written from a different POV ;p