[DRABBLE] Measure. Weigh. Respond. React. (Jaejoong/Changmin; non-pairing if you want)
Short drabbles thought up...while in the bathroom.
Don't ask.
Changmin
Calculates.
He calculates.
Every word, every sigh, every lopsided grin and every sharp-witted answer because each response, each action, must be carefully weighed and evaluated. Analysed and judged and the appropriate reaction given.
If he was the only thing/person/object/artist/idol/whore/youngest/profit-machine that would make sense in this Mad Hatter's world he fell into years ago, then so be it.
and so what if he calculates and calculates and sometimes gets the numbers wrong and he'd feel the blind rage swelling into a monster worthy of herculean-slaying that he'd have to lock himself up and destroy everything else but everyone else---
Jaejoong
Calculates.
He calculates.
But he doesn't. Every gesture, every laugh, every shy smile hidden behind a hand was what he deemed the most appropriate response to ensure that people would love him the most, would remember him the most, was done with such speed and precision and unthinking reflex that it was the opposite side of calculative and met it on its way back home.
They had to love him and they had to show him because how would he know then? He didn't want to be left behind, didn't want to be ignored; wasn't he perfect enough already?
and so he (doesn't) calculates and calculates and sometimes gets the numbers wrong and he'd feel the despair strangling his every breath and he'd inhale like a drowning man, the cigarette burning too fast and thinks if i change this will they love me more and tries to find a new mask that would fit but they're all the wrong size and--
-Ctrl+Shift+Delete-
Comments are ♥
Don't ask.
Changmin
Calculates.
He calculates.
Every word, every sigh, every lopsided grin and every sharp-witted answer because each response, each action, must be carefully weighed and evaluated. Analysed and judged and the appropriate reaction given.
If he was the only thing/person/object/artist/idol/whore/youngest/profit-machine that would make sense in this Mad Hatter's world he fell into years ago, then so be it.
and so what if he calculates and calculates and sometimes gets the numbers wrong and he'd feel the blind rage swelling into a monster worthy of herculean-slaying that he'd have to lock himself up and destroy everything else but everyone else---
Jaejoong
Calculates.
He calculates.
But he doesn't. Every gesture, every laugh, every shy smile hidden behind a hand was what he deemed the most appropriate response to ensure that people would love him the most, would remember him the most, was done with such speed and precision and unthinking reflex that it was the opposite side of calculative and met it on its way back home.
They had to love him and they had to show him because how would he know then? He didn't want to be left behind, didn't want to be ignored; wasn't he perfect enough already?
and so he (doesn't) calculates and calculates and sometimes gets the numbers wrong and he'd feel the despair strangling his every breath and he'd inhale like a drowning man, the cigarette burning too fast and thinks if i change this will they love me more and tries to find a new mask that would fit but they're all the wrong size and--
-Ctrl+Shift+Delete-
Comments are ♥