bonne nuit Darling (flashfic challenge #9: jamais su)
title: bonne nuit Darling.
author: pureuda.
words: 487.
concrit: hell yeah :|
summary: yoochun, jaejoong, and the absence of words.
notes: hello, i need to die. and an author tag. ♥
i.
"kind of silly, right?"
or something like that. you said, "it's a little silly right?" something along the lines of "i really don't want this for dinner or that for dinner but…" or maybe "do you know what i will die from? overdose of cough drops." awkwardly, you added, "is this love?" you want to hear laughter, and you have it.
"is it friday?" he asked you. you nodded, a kicked dog, following strangers, hoping for a spark. "remember, there is hope," he said, a solemn tone. "remember that you have a dream," he said. "remember that tomorrow is saturday and you will get to sleep in, right?" He started to laugh and you laughed too, sounding so fake to your ears.
yoochun spoke in invisible tildes, liked subtle grace on his walls, and eloped with justify. he asked you if this frightened you. you said no. he said that it was a joke.
-
ii.
he said to you one morning, "i want to date a girl named yamazaki. just once."
your pen stopped on its own (only because you intended to keep on writing your letter) and you found that your eyebrow was raised. yoochun's eyebrow raised right back at you.
"… would you like her even more if she looked like jeon jihyeon?" you said, forcing down the smile that suddenly wormed its way up your mouth.
"even better," he replied, easily showing his grin.
"or yoon eunhye?"
"you betcha."
"crazy ass," you said.
"or maybe you've gotten to be so crazy that it infected this whole apartment which apparently contains only the both of us?" He batted his eyelashes playfully. "that could be the problem. but no. I don't like yoon eunhye as much. song hyegyo? probably. pr moon geunyeong. or lee yeonhee. or-"
"you flirt."
he laughed. "i only show this side for you."
you both are silent-you because that was possibly the longest conversation you've ever had with him; he because there was almost nothing left to say without making it sound artificial and forced-out.
"… isn't yamazaki a last name?"
"and so?"
you replay his laughter; over and over and over again.
-
iii.
you know it's got to end sooner or later, but you've always been hoping for later. loss is only another empty word on your lips. imagine everything we could do together, except there was nothing. loss is only another eleven-minute short film that you've seen about a million times but can't bear to let it stop. the letter comes on a morning where you miss the bus and spilt milk on the floor but you just don’t care about that anymore.
you look at your bed, and you look at your life.
the letter:
baby, baby, it says, we've got to let go.
"yoochun, yoochun, yoochun," you say into the empty air. park yoochun, who spoke in tildes, liked subtle grace on his walls, and eloped with justify. "park yoochun," you say, "i wasn't ever afraid."
author: pureuda.
words: 487.
concrit: hell yeah :|
summary: yoochun, jaejoong, and the absence of words.
notes: hello, i need to die. and an author tag. ♥
i.
"kind of silly, right?"
or something like that. you said, "it's a little silly right?" something along the lines of "i really don't want this for dinner or that for dinner but…" or maybe "do you know what i will die from? overdose of cough drops." awkwardly, you added, "is this love?" you want to hear laughter, and you have it.
"is it friday?" he asked you. you nodded, a kicked dog, following strangers, hoping for a spark. "remember, there is hope," he said, a solemn tone. "remember that you have a dream," he said. "remember that tomorrow is saturday and you will get to sleep in, right?" He started to laugh and you laughed too, sounding so fake to your ears.
yoochun spoke in invisible tildes, liked subtle grace on his walls, and eloped with justify. he asked you if this frightened you. you said no. he said that it was a joke.
-
ii.
he said to you one morning, "i want to date a girl named yamazaki. just once."
your pen stopped on its own (only because you intended to keep on writing your letter) and you found that your eyebrow was raised. yoochun's eyebrow raised right back at you.
"… would you like her even more if she looked like jeon jihyeon?" you said, forcing down the smile that suddenly wormed its way up your mouth.
"even better," he replied, easily showing his grin.
"or yoon eunhye?"
"you betcha."
"crazy ass," you said.
"or maybe you've gotten to be so crazy that it infected this whole apartment which apparently contains only the both of us?" He batted his eyelashes playfully. "that could be the problem. but no. I don't like yoon eunhye as much. song hyegyo? probably. pr moon geunyeong. or lee yeonhee. or-"
"you flirt."
he laughed. "i only show this side for you."
you both are silent-you because that was possibly the longest conversation you've ever had with him; he because there was almost nothing left to say without making it sound artificial and forced-out.
"… isn't yamazaki a last name?"
"and so?"
you replay his laughter; over and over and over again.
-
iii.
you know it's got to end sooner or later, but you've always been hoping for later. loss is only another empty word on your lips. imagine everything we could do together, except there was nothing. loss is only another eleven-minute short film that you've seen about a million times but can't bear to let it stop. the letter comes on a morning where you miss the bus and spilt milk on the floor but you just don’t care about that anymore.
you look at your bed, and you look at your life.
the letter:
baby, baby, it says, we've got to let go.
"yoochun, yoochun, yoochun," you say into the empty air. park yoochun, who spoke in tildes, liked subtle grace on his walls, and eloped with justify. "park yoochun," you say, "i wasn't ever afraid."