Fleeting
As chaotic as the place Min was leaving from, her clothes were folded neatly; blouses first, next to pants, skirts on top and tank tops rolled in with her underwear. How wonderful life would have been if it was as easy to organize as her suitcase. If her problems were as submissive as her clothes.
Min’s dainty eyes trail to her walls, mesh of peaches and cream, a few scotch tape marks from where she had torn down her drawings. The bruise on her lip was healing nicely, a little rough and blotchy but every battle scar must be worn proud. She was free now. There was no way for him to find her and now she wasn’t running away to hide, she was running away to live.
She pats her fringe down even if it wasn’t messy to begin with, flips the lid of her bag close and everything fits just right.
A touch, almost as light as butterfly wings fluttering about her nape, registers on her and before she can spin around, familiar eyes reach her through long lashes. Fei sinks next to her bag on the bed, crosses one long leg over the other, entrancing Min for a moment.
“You’re really leaving.” A notch lower and Fei would’ve sounded as if she were purring.
Min quirks a brow, lifting her bag and placing it on the floor, her only response.
Fei’s legs uncross, brushing against one another before she straightens up and Min is reminded of how they melt into utter softness under her palm, a shimmy of Fei that she can selfishly take with her and Fei would never know.
On their way to the door they step over broken glass, vases sent in as gifts during Min’s wedding when they thought they were sending their gifts to safety. Tarnished furniture, burnt carpets, all a memory worth forgetting-in this house is where they should stay.
Outside the sun is breaking in the horizon, the orange of the sky traitorous as it allows purples and blues to dust over and burn with the light of dusk. It’s beautiful, like humble beginnings-the birth of a life that was once left for dead. Min hauled her bag across the threshold and the light meets her, greets her, hugs her and welcomes her but she’s being halted by a touch that burns familiarity more than anything in the world.
Fei circles frail, boney fingers around Min’s wrist and it works. It always works. Min’s eyes reflect Fei’s features, soft in the light and they don’t say anything because they both know that without so much as a nudge, with just a simple whimper-don’t go tenderly cascading from Fei’s cotton soft lips Min would find humble beginnings elsewhere-where Fei was; where they could be.
However, Fei remains silent and allows her silence to slit her throat and bleed because another common knowledge was that Fei would never say it. She would never hold Min back as much as she was holding her now and she will never be able to give Min more than what she did that very same night Min learned the curves of her body that make her cry out.
Min pulls away with the right amount of pressure, thins her lips out into a smile that’s not too wide to not further tear the bruised cut on her bottom lip. Under the dusk sky there was nothing to hide and Fei stays beneath the doorframe exactly where Min wants her to remain-in the house where things were forgotten.
MasterFicList
-- my first attempt at miss a. comments make me
want to give out free hugs, :3
Min’s dainty eyes trail to her walls, mesh of peaches and cream, a few scotch tape marks from where she had torn down her drawings. The bruise on her lip was healing nicely, a little rough and blotchy but every battle scar must be worn proud. She was free now. There was no way for him to find her and now she wasn’t running away to hide, she was running away to live.
She pats her fringe down even if it wasn’t messy to begin with, flips the lid of her bag close and everything fits just right.
A touch, almost as light as butterfly wings fluttering about her nape, registers on her and before she can spin around, familiar eyes reach her through long lashes. Fei sinks next to her bag on the bed, crosses one long leg over the other, entrancing Min for a moment.
“You’re really leaving.” A notch lower and Fei would’ve sounded as if she were purring.
Min quirks a brow, lifting her bag and placing it on the floor, her only response.
Fei’s legs uncross, brushing against one another before she straightens up and Min is reminded of how they melt into utter softness under her palm, a shimmy of Fei that she can selfishly take with her and Fei would never know.
On their way to the door they step over broken glass, vases sent in as gifts during Min’s wedding when they thought they were sending their gifts to safety. Tarnished furniture, burnt carpets, all a memory worth forgetting-in this house is where they should stay.
Outside the sun is breaking in the horizon, the orange of the sky traitorous as it allows purples and blues to dust over and burn with the light of dusk. It’s beautiful, like humble beginnings-the birth of a life that was once left for dead. Min hauled her bag across the threshold and the light meets her, greets her, hugs her and welcomes her but she’s being halted by a touch that burns familiarity more than anything in the world.
Fei circles frail, boney fingers around Min’s wrist and it works. It always works. Min’s eyes reflect Fei’s features, soft in the light and they don’t say anything because they both know that without so much as a nudge, with just a simple whimper-don’t go tenderly cascading from Fei’s cotton soft lips Min would find humble beginnings elsewhere-where Fei was; where they could be.
However, Fei remains silent and allows her silence to slit her throat and bleed because another common knowledge was that Fei would never say it. She would never hold Min back as much as she was holding her now and she will never be able to give Min more than what she did that very same night Min learned the curves of her body that make her cry out.
Min pulls away with the right amount of pressure, thins her lips out into a smile that’s not too wide to not further tear the bruised cut on her bottom lip. Under the dusk sky there was nothing to hide and Fei stays beneath the doorframe exactly where Min wants her to remain-in the house where things were forgotten.
MasterFicList
-- my first attempt at miss a. comments make me
want to give out free hugs, :3