Heartbeat ❦ (1)
I failed my smut writing, so I'm going to write fluff until I get my confidence back T^T This is an old story I wrote halfway last year… I’ve decided to rewrite and post it :) Inspired by the manga Dolls by Yumiko Kawahara (the concept of the plant dolls) and this photo of Kyuhyun :D The story is a little confusing but you'll gradually understand it with the next part ^^ If you spot any grammatical errors, please tell me. I get horribly confused with tenses lol
Heartbeat ❦ | G
Kyuhyun/Ryeowook
Nurture me with your love and affection. Please never leave me.
My eyes are closed as I pretend to sleep soundly while you watch over me sleep from the side of the bed. You love watching me sleep, so I let you a little while longer before you leave.
You will stroke my head lovingly and steal kisses from my unmoving lips secretly, laughing to yourself softly every time. You taste lightly of honey and strawberries, just like the scrumptious, fluffy pancakes you make for me.
I love you, Kyuhyun-ah, you whisper into my ear softly. You wish me the same every day, with a bright smile you think I don’t see. It makes my heart flutter hearing you utter those words so sweetly every time. My mind naturally replies with ‘I love you, too, Ryeowook.’
The door shuts quietly when you leave, every morning at nine sharp. It has only been twelve days, but I remember every detail of your mundane routines already. Your alarm rings at a quarter past seven; while the coffee maker runs, you brush your teeth and shower. Breakfast varies between English and American, but you will always have your toast with strawberry jam. The scent of crispy bacon and scrambled eggs you made today was in the air as they drifted out the open window.
There is a tinge of pain in my heart each time I hear the lock catch and your fading footsteps outside. Loneliness shrouds over me once more, and I long for your presence again. I curl my body closer to myself underneath the thick quilt, seeking for your lingering warmth in these sheets to soothe my fear. I hide beneath these covers until you return in the evening. Some days, you don’t return until morning (I dread those days the most).
At one twenty-nine in the afternoon, the boy next door wakes up at last (he is the other human I know besides you). He is the very opposite of you, as I have come to know. He doesn’t have a regular routine at all-he wakes up at different hours of days, whenever he wants to, sometimes even as late as two in the afternoon. He prefers tea to coffee. He doesn’t cook, but he always mentions about instant cup noodles.
He seems to be an uninteresting person at first, but I found out quickly that he possesses something I’m terribly envious of: his voice-the voice that you love the most.
He must be an aspiring musician because he spends most of his time singing and composing music. Listening to him sing is your favourite thing to do. You have never told me, but I noticed it from the way your eyes light up at the sound of his voice, and you smile a very special smile when you listen to him sing through the solid wall that separates us from him. On bad days, you fall asleep in my arms with a smile listening to the boy next door sing.
It’s heartbreaking, but I cannot offer you such happiness like he does-I have no voice of my own. When I part my lips to speak, there is no sound. I know you are saddened by this, but you have said nothing. Your gentle smiles at me are all beautiful and affectionate, but I wish that I had a voice to sing to you, and to make you smile the way he does. Most of all, I wish I had a voice to tell you that I love you, too.
Two hours afterwards, he is ready to leave the apartment, his keys jingling as he unlocks his door and steps outside. I find myself wondering about how he looks like. Perhaps he is tall, has pale skin and dark hair like mine. Maybe he is like you; petite but beautiful altogether.
The sound of familiar footsteps ascending the stairs breaks my thoughts and my heart leaps excitedly. You are home early today. A wide smile naturally forms over my mouth at the thought of you. I almost fell in my rush to run to you.
“Hello, Ryeowook-sshi.” I hear him greet you outside; his voice is deep and unforgettable. I almost forgot about him. I press my ears to the smooth wooden surface of the door.
“Hello,” you greet him back awhile later, and I know you’re stunned. I imagine the incredible smile on your face as you bow back politely to him. This is the first time I have heard you conversing with him. It’s a rare opportunity.
I wonder if he makes your heart quake like you do to mine. Do I make you feel the same way when you’re here with me?
The lock clicks into the place, and he's all set to go. “Hope to see you around more often,” he tells you friendlily. “Goodbye, Ryeowook-sshi.” The conversation is short and simple, but I know how pleased you are to see him, to talk to him.
Your cheery voice chimes down the hallway, “Goodbye, Kyuhyun-sshi!”
I love you, Kyuhyun-ah.
Today, I learned that your ‘I love you’s are never truly meant for me. They are for him always.
* * *
Heartbeat ❦ | G
Kyuhyun/Ryeowook
Nurture me with your love and affection. Please never leave me.
My eyes are closed as I pretend to sleep soundly while you watch over me sleep from the side of the bed. You love watching me sleep, so I let you a little while longer before you leave.
You will stroke my head lovingly and steal kisses from my unmoving lips secretly, laughing to yourself softly every time. You taste lightly of honey and strawberries, just like the scrumptious, fluffy pancakes you make for me.
I love you, Kyuhyun-ah, you whisper into my ear softly. You wish me the same every day, with a bright smile you think I don’t see. It makes my heart flutter hearing you utter those words so sweetly every time. My mind naturally replies with ‘I love you, too, Ryeowook.’
The door shuts quietly when you leave, every morning at nine sharp. It has only been twelve days, but I remember every detail of your mundane routines already. Your alarm rings at a quarter past seven; while the coffee maker runs, you brush your teeth and shower. Breakfast varies between English and American, but you will always have your toast with strawberry jam. The scent of crispy bacon and scrambled eggs you made today was in the air as they drifted out the open window.
There is a tinge of pain in my heart each time I hear the lock catch and your fading footsteps outside. Loneliness shrouds over me once more, and I long for your presence again. I curl my body closer to myself underneath the thick quilt, seeking for your lingering warmth in these sheets to soothe my fear. I hide beneath these covers until you return in the evening. Some days, you don’t return until morning (I dread those days the most).
At one twenty-nine in the afternoon, the boy next door wakes up at last (he is the other human I know besides you). He is the very opposite of you, as I have come to know. He doesn’t have a regular routine at all-he wakes up at different hours of days, whenever he wants to, sometimes even as late as two in the afternoon. He prefers tea to coffee. He doesn’t cook, but he always mentions about instant cup noodles.
He seems to be an uninteresting person at first, but I found out quickly that he possesses something I’m terribly envious of: his voice-the voice that you love the most.
He must be an aspiring musician because he spends most of his time singing and composing music. Listening to him sing is your favourite thing to do. You have never told me, but I noticed it from the way your eyes light up at the sound of his voice, and you smile a very special smile when you listen to him sing through the solid wall that separates us from him. On bad days, you fall asleep in my arms with a smile listening to the boy next door sing.
It’s heartbreaking, but I cannot offer you such happiness like he does-I have no voice of my own. When I part my lips to speak, there is no sound. I know you are saddened by this, but you have said nothing. Your gentle smiles at me are all beautiful and affectionate, but I wish that I had a voice to sing to you, and to make you smile the way he does. Most of all, I wish I had a voice to tell you that I love you, too.
Two hours afterwards, he is ready to leave the apartment, his keys jingling as he unlocks his door and steps outside. I find myself wondering about how he looks like. Perhaps he is tall, has pale skin and dark hair like mine. Maybe he is like you; petite but beautiful altogether.
The sound of familiar footsteps ascending the stairs breaks my thoughts and my heart leaps excitedly. You are home early today. A wide smile naturally forms over my mouth at the thought of you. I almost fell in my rush to run to you.
“Hello, Ryeowook-sshi.” I hear him greet you outside; his voice is deep and unforgettable. I almost forgot about him. I press my ears to the smooth wooden surface of the door.
“Hello,” you greet him back awhile later, and I know you’re stunned. I imagine the incredible smile on your face as you bow back politely to him. This is the first time I have heard you conversing with him. It’s a rare opportunity.
I wonder if he makes your heart quake like you do to mine. Do I make you feel the same way when you’re here with me?
The lock clicks into the place, and he's all set to go. “Hope to see you around more often,” he tells you friendlily. “Goodbye, Ryeowook-sshi.” The conversation is short and simple, but I know how pleased you are to see him, to talk to him.
Your cheery voice chimes down the hallway, “Goodbye, Kyuhyun-sshi!”
I love you, Kyuhyun-ah.
Today, I learned that your ‘I love you’s are never truly meant for me. They are for him always.
* * *