waiting for the white dress girl (shortfic)
WAITING FOR THE WHITE DRESS GIRL
shortfic, 1,464 words, G
jaenana, angst
A/N: this hasn't been beta-ed lol and since i'm no english native - forgive my little mistakes? /puppy face/ well, this is a little gift for my shipper soulmate mi ♥ sorry if it sucks! it's kind of random and i don't explain much, buuuut i do hope it's enjoyable hahaha.
waiting for devil leave's her soul
waiting for her lover dry her own tears
Jaejoong loves Nana.
It is somewhat a platonic love, rooted in all things one-sided. She leaves her apartment everyday at 8:43 a.m., and Jaejoong likes the way the morning sun reflects on her chocolate brown hair. He also enjoys the way she walks; right leg, left leg, skip all the lines on the concrete. She hardly ever smiles, but he doesn't mind. He does not smile that much himself (but he could, if she would smile too). There are not many things he knows about Nana, but what he does know, he treasures. She takes her dog for a walk at 7:45 p.m. every day, does her laundry on Fridays around 5 p.m., and often goes to her friend’s house to eat together (a friend for whom she saves her few smiles). Jaejoong is always around when she comes out of her apartment, and he prefers to think it is only destiny.
_____________________________________
Jaejoong talks to Nana for the first time on a very cold January morning.
He doesn’t look at his watch, but he remembers that the last time he checked it was 8:55 a.m. It was somewhat a vague encounter, still very rooted in all things one-sided. He walks up her street when she comes out of a store, and their arms touch. She looks at him for a second; Jaejoong gets lost in her eyes for an eternity.
“Excuse me-”
“I’m sorry-”
Nana leaves without looking back. Jaejoong stares at her, counting all the lines she skips on the concrete sidewalk. 27, until she disappears. Jaejoong decides he likes the way the steam comes out of her lips, too. He keeps his smile under control.
_____________________________________
Jaejoong talks to Nana again on a rainy Wednesday afternoon.
This time he checks his watch, because he doesn’t want to forget. 3:03 p.m. He thinks it might really be destiny after all. Nana offers him to share her umbrella, while Jaejoong stands in the pouring water.
“Where are you going?”
“To the subway station.”
“Great, I’m walking there myself.”
Jaejoong walks beside her, and counts all the lines she skips on the sidewalk as they walk. 58, then they descend the stairs to the underground trains. She doesn’t smile at him; he doesn’t mind. She watches the screen of her phone, Jaejoongs watches her hair flying around whenever a train passes. They wait together and they don’t speak. Jaejoong doesn’t mind, again. As her train comes up to the station, she walks carelessly away from him. Before the train starts moving, she turns and waves at him, phone to her ear and a smile. Jaejoong waves back and smiles, too. He thinks she’s fairly normal - like him.
When the train leaves, he makes his way out of the station.
_____________________________________
Jaejoong still loves Nana, and he looks at the picture within her file.
It is somewhat a platonic love, but he is fine with that. He looks down to her street just in time, as Nana leaves her house to walk her dog. 7:45 p.m. sharp. Another thing he loves about her: she is never late. Jaejoong just stares at her, while she slowly descends her street. She does not see him, but he doesn’t mind. Nana skips 18 lines on the concrete that day. Nana doesn’t realize there’s a red dot on her chest.
_____________________________________
Jaejoong doesn’t see Nana that day. There are days she disappears. He gets slightly apathetic when she does so and smiles even less or not at all. All he has left is his phone and the calls he receives whenever she’s away. He feels like he misses her, but he doesn’t mind. He knows she will be there the next day.
_____________________________________
The third time they exchange words is the last one. Jaejoong doesn’t need to look over his shoulder to know she is there. His heartbreak is one-sided. There is a cold object touching the back of his neck. He knows that’s the farther she can reach. He likes the way she holds the gun.
“Are you going to shoot me?”
“If I don’t, you’ll do it first.”
“I wouldn’t hurt you even if I could.”
“You’re a bad liar.”
Jaejoong turns to face her and thinks the white in her dress fits her well. She isn’t stepping on any lines too, her feet carefully ajar on the concrete. He smiles at the thought. Nana doesn’t, Jaejoong doesn’t care.
“I really love you.”
“You don’t know me.”
“The name you use is Nana, you hardly ever smiles, you have a Yorkshire, you like sugarless coffee, you grew up in a shelter home, you suffer from OCD and a borderline personality, you have killed thirteen people in the past few months, and you keep some of their clothes - which you wash on Fridays, sharply at 5 p.m. And despite all that, I’m in love with you.”
Jaejoong feels the gun being pressed harder on his temple. Nana is on the tip of her toes. They are at the top of the building from where he watches her every day, and Jaejoong likes the way her hair sits around her shoulders on that windless night. The night lights from the city taint her face with dark shadows. She falters, silent. Jaejoong waits. He almost doesn’t mind that she looks so sad.
“If you love me like you say you do - would you let me go? You are a cop, aren’t you? If you’re in love with me, let me go!"
Jaejoong hears the click of the hammer, but he doesn’t mind. He looks at her feet as she tries to keep herself on her tiptoes as hard as she can. He breathes the air of the night slowly, enjoying the last few moments he has left.
“You’re stepping on a line.”
“What-“
It takes less than five seconds. He watches as she looks down at her own feet. She is not stepping on any lines. It takes another second for him to pull the gun from her hand. Her eyes grow wide and he thinks, for a brief millisecond, that even in fear she is beautiful. Jaejoong pulls the trigger. Nana falls back; her body hits the concrete floor in slow motion in his eyes. He hears his heart shattering in his ears.
Nana lays there, her eyes look at him. She looks small and disheveled, and Jaejoong knees beside her. She clutches the skin where the bullet made a hole. Her blood is red and hot and stains her dress. Jaejoong tries his best not to mind.
“Why-”
“Why?”
“Why do you love me? I’m- I’m a monster.”
Jaejoong holds her hand tightly and she shivers, but her hand clutches his just as tight. She waits for her answers as she holds to her own life. Jaejoong blinks and is surprised when his vision is blurred by tears. Nana smiles. Her smile is tainted with the red blood she coughs. He tries to think of a reason, anything, but nothing comes to his mind. Nothing but one thing.
“I don’t mind.”
She doesn’t last long enough to hear him, though. But she still has the smile on her lips. Jaejoong closes her eyes, but he doesn’t pray, because he doesn’t know how to. He gets back to his feet again, his knees hurt when he does so. Jaejoong walks slowly to the building’s stone balustrade. He makes the call he needs to make. He wonders if dying even hurts. He doesn’t mind.
shortfic, 1,464 words, G
jaenana, angst
A/N: this hasn't been beta-ed lol and since i'm no english native - forgive my little mistakes? /puppy face/ well, this is a little gift for my shipper soulmate mi ♥ sorry if it sucks! it's kind of random and i don't explain much, buuuut i do hope it's enjoyable hahaha.
waiting for devil leave's her soul
waiting for her lover dry her own tears
Jaejoong loves Nana.
It is somewhat a platonic love, rooted in all things one-sided. She leaves her apartment everyday at 8:43 a.m., and Jaejoong likes the way the morning sun reflects on her chocolate brown hair. He also enjoys the way she walks; right leg, left leg, skip all the lines on the concrete. She hardly ever smiles, but he doesn't mind. He does not smile that much himself (but he could, if she would smile too). There are not many things he knows about Nana, but what he does know, he treasures. She takes her dog for a walk at 7:45 p.m. every day, does her laundry on Fridays around 5 p.m., and often goes to her friend’s house to eat together (a friend for whom she saves her few smiles). Jaejoong is always around when she comes out of her apartment, and he prefers to think it is only destiny.
_____________________________________
Jaejoong talks to Nana for the first time on a very cold January morning.
He doesn’t look at his watch, but he remembers that the last time he checked it was 8:55 a.m. It was somewhat a vague encounter, still very rooted in all things one-sided. He walks up her street when she comes out of a store, and their arms touch. She looks at him for a second; Jaejoong gets lost in her eyes for an eternity.
“Excuse me-”
“I’m sorry-”
Nana leaves without looking back. Jaejoong stares at her, counting all the lines she skips on the concrete sidewalk. 27, until she disappears. Jaejoong decides he likes the way the steam comes out of her lips, too. He keeps his smile under control.
_____________________________________
Jaejoong talks to Nana again on a rainy Wednesday afternoon.
This time he checks his watch, because he doesn’t want to forget. 3:03 p.m. He thinks it might really be destiny after all. Nana offers him to share her umbrella, while Jaejoong stands in the pouring water.
“Where are you going?”
“To the subway station.”
“Great, I’m walking there myself.”
Jaejoong walks beside her, and counts all the lines she skips on the sidewalk as they walk. 58, then they descend the stairs to the underground trains. She doesn’t smile at him; he doesn’t mind. She watches the screen of her phone, Jaejoongs watches her hair flying around whenever a train passes. They wait together and they don’t speak. Jaejoong doesn’t mind, again. As her train comes up to the station, she walks carelessly away from him. Before the train starts moving, she turns and waves at him, phone to her ear and a smile. Jaejoong waves back and smiles, too. He thinks she’s fairly normal - like him.
When the train leaves, he makes his way out of the station.
_____________________________________
Jaejoong still loves Nana, and he looks at the picture within her file.
It is somewhat a platonic love, but he is fine with that. He looks down to her street just in time, as Nana leaves her house to walk her dog. 7:45 p.m. sharp. Another thing he loves about her: she is never late. Jaejoong just stares at her, while she slowly descends her street. She does not see him, but he doesn’t mind. Nana skips 18 lines on the concrete that day. Nana doesn’t realize there’s a red dot on her chest.
_____________________________________
Jaejoong doesn’t see Nana that day. There are days she disappears. He gets slightly apathetic when she does so and smiles even less or not at all. All he has left is his phone and the calls he receives whenever she’s away. He feels like he misses her, but he doesn’t mind. He knows she will be there the next day.
_____________________________________
The third time they exchange words is the last one. Jaejoong doesn’t need to look over his shoulder to know she is there. His heartbreak is one-sided. There is a cold object touching the back of his neck. He knows that’s the farther she can reach. He likes the way she holds the gun.
“Are you going to shoot me?”
“If I don’t, you’ll do it first.”
“I wouldn’t hurt you even if I could.”
“You’re a bad liar.”
Jaejoong turns to face her and thinks the white in her dress fits her well. She isn’t stepping on any lines too, her feet carefully ajar on the concrete. He smiles at the thought. Nana doesn’t, Jaejoong doesn’t care.
“I really love you.”
“You don’t know me.”
“The name you use is Nana, you hardly ever smiles, you have a Yorkshire, you like sugarless coffee, you grew up in a shelter home, you suffer from OCD and a borderline personality, you have killed thirteen people in the past few months, and you keep some of their clothes - which you wash on Fridays, sharply at 5 p.m. And despite all that, I’m in love with you.”
Jaejoong feels the gun being pressed harder on his temple. Nana is on the tip of her toes. They are at the top of the building from where he watches her every day, and Jaejoong likes the way her hair sits around her shoulders on that windless night. The night lights from the city taint her face with dark shadows. She falters, silent. Jaejoong waits. He almost doesn’t mind that she looks so sad.
“If you love me like you say you do - would you let me go? You are a cop, aren’t you? If you’re in love with me, let me go!"
Jaejoong hears the click of the hammer, but he doesn’t mind. He looks at her feet as she tries to keep herself on her tiptoes as hard as she can. He breathes the air of the night slowly, enjoying the last few moments he has left.
“You’re stepping on a line.”
“What-“
It takes less than five seconds. He watches as she looks down at her own feet. She is not stepping on any lines. It takes another second for him to pull the gun from her hand. Her eyes grow wide and he thinks, for a brief millisecond, that even in fear she is beautiful. Jaejoong pulls the trigger. Nana falls back; her body hits the concrete floor in slow motion in his eyes. He hears his heart shattering in his ears.
Nana lays there, her eyes look at him. She looks small and disheveled, and Jaejoong knees beside her. She clutches the skin where the bullet made a hole. Her blood is red and hot and stains her dress. Jaejoong tries his best not to mind.
“Why-”
“Why?”
“Why do you love me? I’m- I’m a monster.”
Jaejoong holds her hand tightly and she shivers, but her hand clutches his just as tight. She waits for her answers as she holds to her own life. Jaejoong blinks and is surprised when his vision is blurred by tears. Nana smiles. Her smile is tainted with the red blood she coughs. He tries to think of a reason, anything, but nothing comes to his mind. Nothing but one thing.
“I don’t mind.”
She doesn’t last long enough to hear him, though. But she still has the smile on her lips. Jaejoong closes her eyes, but he doesn’t pray, because he doesn’t know how to. He gets back to his feet again, his knees hurt when he does so. Jaejoong walks slowly to the building’s stone balustrade. He makes the call he needs to make. He wonders if dying even hurts. He doesn’t mind.