nineteen.
nineteen.
four hundred and eighty words.
broken clocks and things like now.
Don’t tell anyone, but Seohyun is scared of the future.
Tonight is one of the group’s rare nights off, and the members - (besides Taeyeon, who is never home, even on their so-called nights off because the leader never gets a night off) - are layered on the couch sloppily, their arms and legs overlapping and their bodies contorting in such ways that leave each member wondering where her limbs have gone off too (but it’s a passing thought, one that waves as it exits and ceases to exist). As she twists around to head back to the couch after slipping the thin disk into the DVD player, she smiles softly and takes in the sight of her family: their interactions (predictable to her now), their smiles (brighten her world) and their laughs (music to her ears). Her eyes glance at the digital clock which sits upon the coffee table beside Jessica’s right arm (who sits below a strange mixture of Tiffany and Yuri). There’s something wrong. After a moment, Yoona calls out to her (“Seohyun, it’s starting! C’mere!”) and Seohyun’s eyes break away from the blaring red numbers and turn back to look once more at the overloaded couch. She blinks once, twice, and saves the image forever in her mind. As open arms pull her into the overwhelming heat of eight bodies, she sighs and lets her head fall back onto someone’s shoulder and closes her eyes, a smile splayed gracefully on her face.
They all manage to fall asleep before the movie has ended, and they all manage to wake up late the next morning (“Kookie-oppa, it’s only 6:14-What?! F-fany, get up! Yuri, get up! It’s almost nine! Everybody, off!”). There’s a rush to the bathrooms and bedrooms as people lock doors without mercy (“Sica! I need to change too!”), but Seohyun simply smiles and yawns, her hand covering her mouth as she casually follows Tiffany to their shared bedroom, her gait slow and intentional. As she slips on her right heel, Tiffany notices Seohyun’s complacent behavior and watches as Seohyun buttons the top of her shirt; Tiffany raises an eyebrow.
“What’s wrong with you?”
The question is simple - maybe even a little rough and rude sounding - but Seohyun smiles because she knows that Tiffany knows her too well to ask her a question delicately laced with polite words and unnecessary babble.
“Nothing,” she responds simply, and whistles a happy tune as the subject lies on the ground, rolls over, and promptly dies. She’s happy to have spent more time with her family than initially allowed, happy that they were late and happy that this chance had knocked upon their door. Seohyun doesn’t regret allowing the knowledge of the broken clock (which had been slow two hours and thirty-something minutes) to slip through her fingers like sand.
Don’t tell anyone, but Seohyun wishes for more broken clocks.
four hundred and eighty words.
broken clocks and things like now.
Don’t tell anyone, but Seohyun is scared of the future.
Tonight is one of the group’s rare nights off, and the members - (besides Taeyeon, who is never home, even on their so-called nights off because the leader never gets a night off) - are layered on the couch sloppily, their arms and legs overlapping and their bodies contorting in such ways that leave each member wondering where her limbs have gone off too (but it’s a passing thought, one that waves as it exits and ceases to exist). As she twists around to head back to the couch after slipping the thin disk into the DVD player, she smiles softly and takes in the sight of her family: their interactions (predictable to her now), their smiles (brighten her world) and their laughs (music to her ears). Her eyes glance at the digital clock which sits upon the coffee table beside Jessica’s right arm (who sits below a strange mixture of Tiffany and Yuri). There’s something wrong. After a moment, Yoona calls out to her (“Seohyun, it’s starting! C’mere!”) and Seohyun’s eyes break away from the blaring red numbers and turn back to look once more at the overloaded couch. She blinks once, twice, and saves the image forever in her mind. As open arms pull her into the overwhelming heat of eight bodies, she sighs and lets her head fall back onto someone’s shoulder and closes her eyes, a smile splayed gracefully on her face.
They all manage to fall asleep before the movie has ended, and they all manage to wake up late the next morning (“Kookie-oppa, it’s only 6:14-What?! F-fany, get up! Yuri, get up! It’s almost nine! Everybody, off!”). There’s a rush to the bathrooms and bedrooms as people lock doors without mercy (“Sica! I need to change too!”), but Seohyun simply smiles and yawns, her hand covering her mouth as she casually follows Tiffany to their shared bedroom, her gait slow and intentional. As she slips on her right heel, Tiffany notices Seohyun’s complacent behavior and watches as Seohyun buttons the top of her shirt; Tiffany raises an eyebrow.
“What’s wrong with you?”
The question is simple - maybe even a little rough and rude sounding - but Seohyun smiles because she knows that Tiffany knows her too well to ask her a question delicately laced with polite words and unnecessary babble.
“Nothing,” she responds simply, and whistles a happy tune as the subject lies on the ground, rolls over, and promptly dies. She’s happy to have spent more time with her family than initially allowed, happy that they were late and happy that this chance had knocked upon their door. Seohyun doesn’t regret allowing the knowledge of the broken clock (which had been slow two hours and thirty-something minutes) to slip through her fingers like sand.
Don’t tell anyone, but Seohyun wishes for more broken clocks.