Dear Victoria
Focus: Victoria-centric, (Song Qian/Han Geng)
Rating: G
Summary: What if love isn't red? The world can lie, you know.
Word count: 333 (<- lol!)
A/N: Just a drabble, I felt like writing about Victoria. Geng snuck into the part about Qian - aka, Chinese!Victoria. Although she's always Chinese. I just, you know, mean her Chinese name when I say that. This is basically me playing with ideas and words, and Victoria's character because I love her.
Dear Victoria
She dreams that red is the color of hearts, but she's never really known herself. Just been told, in biology, and all those other people that say so. So maybe red is the color of love, too. But no one has really pinpointed what the universe always intended its color for love to be.
"Who are humans to try and pick on their own?" she asks, but no one really listens to her. She's just a woman, as some would say. At least she's pretty. At least she can dance, at least she's got a good heart. A good red heart.
Victoria looks good in red, she does. So does Qian, but when you look past the language and setting, the makeup and hair oddly dyed and her leader smiles, they're just the same person. Only Qian is the version that's stripped of fame and left in China to dance in the academy, to smile into a boy's shoulder, a boy who went to the same school. A boy she misses, a man now, a man who's escaped his own monsters. He lives in peace. She loves that boy. Man.
Blood is also red, but this is common fact. Victoria doesn't question it.
But what if love isn't red? What if hearts are orange?
She sneaks around with her own curiosity tucked under her arm, like she's peeking through keyholes or floorboards to see what's hidden. The world can lie, and not by means of the ground underneath her feet, or any trees she'd climb in after dance practice and he would caution her not to scrape anything, and he'd promise to catch her if she ever fell. Hovering at the trunk of the tree like she was made of glass, or thin as paper, that's what he did. She misses that cute, lanky orbiting planet of hers. Those days were Chinese days.
A very red, very beautiful place. China - she opens her eyes and pretends she's home - China is red.
//…
moar femme fic is necessary
time to get ready for prom~ :) i can has pretty orange dress
also: personal f(x) fic challenge theme #4, red!
Rating: G
Summary: What if love isn't red? The world can lie, you know.
Word count: 333 (<- lol!)
A/N: Just a drabble, I felt like writing about Victoria. Geng snuck into the part about Qian - aka, Chinese!Victoria. Although she's always Chinese. I just, you know, mean her Chinese name when I say that. This is basically me playing with ideas and words, and Victoria's character because I love her.
Dear Victoria
She dreams that red is the color of hearts, but she's never really known herself. Just been told, in biology, and all those other people that say so. So maybe red is the color of love, too. But no one has really pinpointed what the universe always intended its color for love to be.
"Who are humans to try and pick on their own?" she asks, but no one really listens to her. She's just a woman, as some would say. At least she's pretty. At least she can dance, at least she's got a good heart. A good red heart.
Victoria looks good in red, she does. So does Qian, but when you look past the language and setting, the makeup and hair oddly dyed and her leader smiles, they're just the same person. Only Qian is the version that's stripped of fame and left in China to dance in the academy, to smile into a boy's shoulder, a boy who went to the same school. A boy she misses, a man now, a man who's escaped his own monsters. He lives in peace. She loves that boy. Man.
Blood is also red, but this is common fact. Victoria doesn't question it.
But what if love isn't red? What if hearts are orange?
She sneaks around with her own curiosity tucked under her arm, like she's peeking through keyholes or floorboards to see what's hidden. The world can lie, and not by means of the ground underneath her feet, or any trees she'd climb in after dance practice and he would caution her not to scrape anything, and he'd promise to catch her if she ever fell. Hovering at the trunk of the tree like she was made of glass, or thin as paper, that's what he did. She misses that cute, lanky orbiting planet of hers. Those days were Chinese days.
A very red, very beautiful place. China - she opens her eyes and pretends she's home - China is red.
//…
moar femme fic is necessary
time to get ready for prom~ :) i can has pretty orange dress
also: personal f(x) fic challenge theme #4, red!