round 05, challenge two: entry #13
Title: Frightful Designata
Fandom and Pairing: Infinite, Woohyun/L
Rating: G
Word Count: 200
Summary: a lesson in semantics.
Warnings: -
Nothing is said, those five bitter seconds after Myungsoo raises his voice. Woohyun feels the air around him stiffen, plastering his vocal chords together, his thoughts a pitiful amalgamation. The words aren't malicious. They aren't deceitful, or mean. They're normal words, by anybody's standards.
It's about tonality and enunciation. The way the sounds erupt in his ears, rudimentary emotion weaved into each syllable. Myungsoo isn't angry, and he's far from sad. Woohyun hopes there's some happiness lying dormant that he can't quite place. It's like he'd been hypothesising. This is Myungsoo. A level headed presence, the occasional warm embrace and a presidium of self-awareness. Then there's always that fortified noise that keeps Woohyun just half a millimetre from reaching him.
"Why me?" he'd said, unspeakables embedded in his features.
It's obvious, he thinks, that Myungsoo's scared. Of the management. Or of what to do with the knowledge.
And he can't quite remember his opening statement. Neither the words that had brought them tumbling, unprepared and ignorant, into the ring, nor what he's supposed to say next. But both of these, the seeds of confessions and questions and stupid ideas; they go something like 'it's always been you.'
Fandom and Pairing: Infinite, Woohyun/L
Rating: G
Word Count: 200
Summary: a lesson in semantics.
Warnings: -
Nothing is said, those five bitter seconds after Myungsoo raises his voice. Woohyun feels the air around him stiffen, plastering his vocal chords together, his thoughts a pitiful amalgamation. The words aren't malicious. They aren't deceitful, or mean. They're normal words, by anybody's standards.
It's about tonality and enunciation. The way the sounds erupt in his ears, rudimentary emotion weaved into each syllable. Myungsoo isn't angry, and he's far from sad. Woohyun hopes there's some happiness lying dormant that he can't quite place. It's like he'd been hypothesising. This is Myungsoo. A level headed presence, the occasional warm embrace and a presidium of self-awareness. Then there's always that fortified noise that keeps Woohyun just half a millimetre from reaching him.
"Why me?" he'd said, unspeakables embedded in his features.
It's obvious, he thinks, that Myungsoo's scared. Of the management. Or of what to do with the knowledge.
And he can't quite remember his opening statement. Neither the words that had brought them tumbling, unprepared and ignorant, into the ring, nor what he's supposed to say next. But both of these, the seeds of confessions and questions and stupid ideas; they go something like 'it's always been you.'