One For Every Year
Title: One For Every Year
Author: omona_shi
Pair: N/A - Original Story
Genre: !angst.
Rating: G
Warnings: Occasional spouts of un-violent violence.
Summary: Merry Christmas. You get that every year. But this time it's different. You hurt a little more.
One For Every Year
An Original Story
You sit out there by yourself, rocking backwards and forwards on that same swing you remember sitting on last year- on exactly the same day, same time.
Some things never change.
No matter how many days or years pass by.
It’s snowing, and your tilt your face upwards with a soft smile stretched on your flawless complexion and allow the flakes to land on your warm skin, melting instantly at the contact.
You know your hands are numb and unresponsive because you’ve been gripping that chilling metal chain of the swing with your bare hands for two hours. But it numbs something else as well. The stabbing pain doesn’t go that deep anymore- it’s almost bearable.
He’s just right there, standing behind and pushing the swing for you and it’s that face that makes you cry. It’s that simple childishness that makes you remember. It’s Christmas, and you know people stare at you strangely as they pass by in their pairs. Of course, you’re just one person in the lonely park, head in hands and something of a half smile- half grimace graces your well-covered features.
In your hallucinations, he would be there, right next to you, calling out that he’s here and there’s this joy you know is fake, but who cares, it’s close enough.
There’s a beep and you pick up your phone to read the message robotically. It’s the same every year- he doesn’t write, he doesn’t speak, and the only thing you’ll ever receive from him is an sms each year on the 25th of December saying:
‘Merry Christmas.’
He won’t let you let go. He’s the happy one, the one who has another girl next to him, spending their Christmas along the Banpo Bridge. You know- that’s what the both of you used to have.
You decide to go home- it’s a little earlier than usual, but this time, you just feel too tired to really stay any longer- not when there are masses of couples holding hands and whisper sweet nothings into each others’ ears right in front of you.
The green beep of your finger-lock alerts you and you step in. The flat in all its glory means nothing to you now no matter how beautifully your couch glows from the snow blown into your living room from your balcony, overlooking the rest of the Gangnam district.
Out of the corner of your eye, there’s a white letter left for you on top of the kitchen table by your maid and you rip it up violently into pieces of unrecognizable confetti when you catch the wedding cake on the card through the cover. All you can do is collapse on the metal stool in a daze and suddenly- to fling your phone at the wall, his annual emotionless greeting still flashing brightly on the screen.
In the end, it’s always you that’s one step behind.
Thank you for reading and commenting! ^^
Author: omona_shi
Pair: N/A - Original Story
Genre: !angst.
Rating: G
Warnings: Occasional spouts of un-violent violence.
Summary: Merry Christmas. You get that every year. But this time it's different. You hurt a little more.
One For Every Year
An Original Story
You sit out there by yourself, rocking backwards and forwards on that same swing you remember sitting on last year- on exactly the same day, same time.
Some things never change.
No matter how many days or years pass by.
It’s snowing, and your tilt your face upwards with a soft smile stretched on your flawless complexion and allow the flakes to land on your warm skin, melting instantly at the contact.
You know your hands are numb and unresponsive because you’ve been gripping that chilling metal chain of the swing with your bare hands for two hours. But it numbs something else as well. The stabbing pain doesn’t go that deep anymore- it’s almost bearable.
He’s just right there, standing behind and pushing the swing for you and it’s that face that makes you cry. It’s that simple childishness that makes you remember. It’s Christmas, and you know people stare at you strangely as they pass by in their pairs. Of course, you’re just one person in the lonely park, head in hands and something of a half smile- half grimace graces your well-covered features.
In your hallucinations, he would be there, right next to you, calling out that he’s here and there’s this joy you know is fake, but who cares, it’s close enough.
There’s a beep and you pick up your phone to read the message robotically. It’s the same every year- he doesn’t write, he doesn’t speak, and the only thing you’ll ever receive from him is an sms each year on the 25th of December saying:
‘Merry Christmas.’
He won’t let you let go. He’s the happy one, the one who has another girl next to him, spending their Christmas along the Banpo Bridge. You know- that’s what the both of you used to have.
You decide to go home- it’s a little earlier than usual, but this time, you just feel too tired to really stay any longer- not when there are masses of couples holding hands and whisper sweet nothings into each others’ ears right in front of you.
The green beep of your finger-lock alerts you and you step in. The flat in all its glory means nothing to you now no matter how beautifully your couch glows from the snow blown into your living room from your balcony, overlooking the rest of the Gangnam district.
Out of the corner of your eye, there’s a white letter left for you on top of the kitchen table by your maid and you rip it up violently into pieces of unrecognizable confetti when you catch the wedding cake on the card through the cover. All you can do is collapse on the metal stool in a daze and suddenly- to fling your phone at the wall, his annual emotionless greeting still flashing brightly on the screen.
In the end, it’s always you that’s one step behind.
Thank you for reading and commenting! ^^