[fic] what is there in the end but unspoken words
fic: what is there in the end but unspoken words
fandom: Heirs
words: 766
pairing: Eunsang(/Tan/Young Do)
disclaimers: what the fracking hell I HATE YOU ALL
warnings: flashfic written after mainlining the first 10 episodes, instead of sleeping off this cold
[this is horrible don't read it!]In the end, there are only the unspoken words on her lips.
Maybe it's all that time she has spent in the quiet with her mother (only no, that's not it. because there it is all words words words and they are fluid and part of the body and sometimes she catches herself talking to herself out in the open, under the blue sky, because sound and expression never stop they are always there) so what (other than a broken heart) has made her so quiet?
Because the words she does say don't mean enough.
('Mother worked hard for that money')
(But all it really means is: 'I cried for you and dreamed of you and worked for this money too. I'm right here in the trenches and you are off having a ball in your satin slippers and drinking to forget - how can you forget war? how does the daily grind of battle ever leave your body?')
And that's what she got from her mother - putting too much into one word. Not knowing how to say enough or show enough because
('let's iron it')
(and she really means: 'let's not argue about money and let's be happy and let's both know that I am sad and hungry and you are too tired to stand up straight but let's celebrate one thing just one thing because it's all we have')
('everything looks good on me')
So maybe Tan, with all his silences and his pointed looks - and the jokes he tells to change the subject, to lighten a mood that is so deep and dark no light can penetrate, but still he will try; he will try with the inexhaustible energy of a puppy, clumsy and awkward, bumping into everything in sight and not understanding the words he really says - but maybe he understands the silence the way she does.
Maybe.
Maybe he understands more about her silences than she understands about his, but that's not important right now. Because they aren't speaking the same language anymore.
The difference between a fighter and a survivor is simple - knowing when the battle is over before it begins.
(He never had to learn this; he's always fighting fighting fighting but her life isn't about the battles she chooses - it's about a war she was born into.)
So maybe Young Do, with his loneliness and his anger - and the way he makes her reach for darkness, longing to hit and scratch and fight when normally she would bow and survive another day, but his anger is infectious and she hates him all the more for the way he makes her want to charge in with ax in hand and destroy the foundations of everything that they know; she takes grim satisfaction in egging him on, teasing him, showing her fear so that he will rise to it and manipulate it.
Because.
Because if that darkness is somewhere else, then she can be kind and gentle again. He can be her dark knight and she can sit through the pain and there's the satisfaction, there's no reason for her to lash out, to hit, to spit. She can't anyway.
Might as well enjoy it when someone else can.
If Tan is a puppy, full of an awkward need for approval and love so desperate it makes her teeth ache; then Young Do is a sly cat, batting around at the world in an attempt to hide his wounds by inflicting pain on others.
Tan will come right up to you, put his head in your lap, and beg you to see his scars.
Young Do will bat you around like a ball of string, hoping you never see the wounds they shine.
And what of her wounds.
What of her battle getting up everyday.
Where is the peace and quiet that she so desperately longs for - that she knows now is never coming.
There's no respite for her, the battle keeps raging on around her.
Just as all her dreams shattered around her, she became a dream to someone else.
Isn't that funny? The screaming, crying, desperate girl running down the sidewalk after a broken, empty mirage -- now is a dream so strong in the mind of another she now is expected to carry on the fight for someone else.
You don't become a woman when you lose your dream.
You become a woman when the dream is you and there is nothing left.
What good are words when you are just a shell, carrying around the dreams of a fighter and all you want to do is breathe tomorrow.
fandom: Heirs
words: 766
pairing: Eunsang(/Tan/Young Do)
disclaimers: what the fracking hell I HATE YOU ALL
warnings: flashfic written after mainlining the first 10 episodes, instead of sleeping off this cold
[this is horrible don't read it!]In the end, there are only the unspoken words on her lips.
Maybe it's all that time she has spent in the quiet with her mother (only no, that's not it. because there it is all words words words and they are fluid and part of the body and sometimes she catches herself talking to herself out in the open, under the blue sky, because sound and expression never stop they are always there) so what (other than a broken heart) has made her so quiet?
Because the words she does say don't mean enough.
('Mother worked hard for that money')
(But all it really means is: 'I cried for you and dreamed of you and worked for this money too. I'm right here in the trenches and you are off having a ball in your satin slippers and drinking to forget - how can you forget war? how does the daily grind of battle ever leave your body?')
And that's what she got from her mother - putting too much into one word. Not knowing how to say enough or show enough because
('let's iron it')
(and she really means: 'let's not argue about money and let's be happy and let's both know that I am sad and hungry and you are too tired to stand up straight but let's celebrate one thing just one thing because it's all we have')
('everything looks good on me')
So maybe Tan, with all his silences and his pointed looks - and the jokes he tells to change the subject, to lighten a mood that is so deep and dark no light can penetrate, but still he will try; he will try with the inexhaustible energy of a puppy, clumsy and awkward, bumping into everything in sight and not understanding the words he really says - but maybe he understands the silence the way she does.
Maybe.
Maybe he understands more about her silences than she understands about his, but that's not important right now. Because they aren't speaking the same language anymore.
The difference between a fighter and a survivor is simple - knowing when the battle is over before it begins.
(He never had to learn this; he's always fighting fighting fighting but her life isn't about the battles she chooses - it's about a war she was born into.)
So maybe Young Do, with his loneliness and his anger - and the way he makes her reach for darkness, longing to hit and scratch and fight when normally she would bow and survive another day, but his anger is infectious and she hates him all the more for the way he makes her want to charge in with ax in hand and destroy the foundations of everything that they know; she takes grim satisfaction in egging him on, teasing him, showing her fear so that he will rise to it and manipulate it.
Because.
Because if that darkness is somewhere else, then she can be kind and gentle again. He can be her dark knight and she can sit through the pain and there's the satisfaction, there's no reason for her to lash out, to hit, to spit. She can't anyway.
Might as well enjoy it when someone else can.
If Tan is a puppy, full of an awkward need for approval and love so desperate it makes her teeth ache; then Young Do is a sly cat, batting around at the world in an attempt to hide his wounds by inflicting pain on others.
Tan will come right up to you, put his head in your lap, and beg you to see his scars.
Young Do will bat you around like a ball of string, hoping you never see the wounds they shine.
And what of her wounds.
What of her battle getting up everyday.
Where is the peace and quiet that she so desperately longs for - that she knows now is never coming.
There's no respite for her, the battle keeps raging on around her.
Just as all her dreams shattered around her, she became a dream to someone else.
Isn't that funny? The screaming, crying, desperate girl running down the sidewalk after a broken, empty mirage -- now is a dream so strong in the mind of another she now is expected to carry on the fight for someone else.
You don't become a woman when you lose your dream.
You become a woman when the dream is you and there is nothing left.
What good are words when you are just a shell, carrying around the dreams of a fighter and all you want to do is breathe tomorrow.