{ Only I Didn't Know
381 words | pg
- super junior + snsd ; tiffany-centric / tiffany + siwon
un-betaed.
She stares, and stares until she sees nothing worth recognizing; white dots dance across a black canvas, her eyes absorbing nothing. Her hands move, though there is no feeling in her fingers. Only the cold and numbness seep into her pores, the silences soothing her aching mind.
She wonders why she isn’t dead yet.
The doctor continues to ask questions; how is she? She has no idea. So she just nods her head from side to side, or up and down, the occasional ‘yes’ or ‘no’ escaping her lips; she watches as he jots down some notes, but she doesn’t care. Not anymore.
Tiffany’s not sure when it all started, or how. She knows why, but the thought still frightens her and sometimes she sees his face haunting her dreams, taunting her and blaming her.
The dress they have given her makes her itch, but she doesn’t bother scratching it; her mind is elsewhere. Her safe haven is staring out the window, watching the breeze sway the leaves and blades of grass. It’s then that she realizes that it’s almost fall, and for a moment she feels a sense of dread, but it disappears all too quickly.
She smiles at nothing in particular as she shifts herself on the bed, face looking up at the ceiling, loose limbs draped on the bed and hair fanned out on the stark white pillow.
The entire room is the same shade of white as the pillow, sheets, and door. Tiffany doesn’t remember why she’s here, but it must be because that she isn’t considered normal anymore, and she’s okay with that.
No one visits her in her hospital room, though being alone doesn’t bring her the feeling of loneliness, nor does it make her want to go insane.
She’s mostly preoccupied with thinking, or not thinking, of Siwon, and how he was her everything; she misses him, but she won’t ever admit it.
Chocolate brown eyes roam about the room, not a thing catches her attention so she goes back to staring at the ceiling, counting all the regrets she has accumulated over the years.
Tears fall down her cheeks, though she can’t recall the thought that caused them.
I start to feel a little hurt because of a wound that can’t heal itself.
a/n: this was inspired by a thought I was having in the middle of my ap us history test (darn you inspiration!!! must you come at terrible times?!) so I jotted the idea on a piece of paper after I finished my test. inspired by iu's only the story I didn't know :)
- super junior + snsd ; tiffany-centric / tiffany + siwon
un-betaed.
She stares, and stares until she sees nothing worth recognizing; white dots dance across a black canvas, her eyes absorbing nothing. Her hands move, though there is no feeling in her fingers. Only the cold and numbness seep into her pores, the silences soothing her aching mind.
She wonders why she isn’t dead yet.
The doctor continues to ask questions; how is she? She has no idea. So she just nods her head from side to side, or up and down, the occasional ‘yes’ or ‘no’ escaping her lips; she watches as he jots down some notes, but she doesn’t care. Not anymore.
Tiffany’s not sure when it all started, or how. She knows why, but the thought still frightens her and sometimes she sees his face haunting her dreams, taunting her and blaming her.
The dress they have given her makes her itch, but she doesn’t bother scratching it; her mind is elsewhere. Her safe haven is staring out the window, watching the breeze sway the leaves and blades of grass. It’s then that she realizes that it’s almost fall, and for a moment she feels a sense of dread, but it disappears all too quickly.
She smiles at nothing in particular as she shifts herself on the bed, face looking up at the ceiling, loose limbs draped on the bed and hair fanned out on the stark white pillow.
The entire room is the same shade of white as the pillow, sheets, and door. Tiffany doesn’t remember why she’s here, but it must be because that she isn’t considered normal anymore, and she’s okay with that.
No one visits her in her hospital room, though being alone doesn’t bring her the feeling of loneliness, nor does it make her want to go insane.
She’s mostly preoccupied with thinking, or not thinking, of Siwon, and how he was her everything; she misses him, but she won’t ever admit it.
Chocolate brown eyes roam about the room, not a thing catches her attention so she goes back to staring at the ceiling, counting all the regrets she has accumulated over the years.
Tears fall down her cheeks, though she can’t recall the thought that caused them.
I start to feel a little hurt because of a wound that can’t heal itself.
a/n: this was inspired by a thought I was having in the middle of my ap us history test (darn you inspiration!!! must you come at terrible times?!) so I jotted the idea on a piece of paper after I finished my test. inspired by iu's only the story I didn't know :)