𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐄𝐄 ✓

04: SALVATION

"Emotion is not a burden; emotion is rather energy. The verity of life is hushed, and its brazen falsehood was always shouting, voicing, and pressing painful questions.
In fact, the death of a dream could be the vehicle through which it acquired a new form, reignited depth, new afflatus, and a gloriously revitalised tint. In other words, the leverage of a certain type of fantasy is such that death does not have to signify closure but rather a philosophical and allegorical leap ahead."

...

"I-I was supposed to be there, Sung," He pointed at the groom, busy with too many Jaishians now, his eyes shimmering with beads of pain ready to make their way.

"And I was supposed to rule Pirropi!" She cackled a sarcastic chuckle, snickering at his miserable self, a true Jaishian.

And Jin felt a rib being broken and plunged out of his chest, surprised at what poison is often hidden in the most glamorous pretence.

He tried to sew a few words to stop her further growing mad. He had to, "Sung, st-"

But she was desperate. "No Kwan, you weren't. And the least you can do is be flattered. I chose you to have my fun, even if for a short time only."

As her words cut through him like a shard of glass, leaving his heart bleeding with pain, Kwan felt like he was losing himself in a tumultuous storm. It was as if she had poured ice-cold water over a raw wound, momentarily numbing the agony before it returned with a fierce vengeance.

The searing anguish crept through his veins, suffusing every fiber of his being with torment. His mind, a battlefield of emotions, struggled to grasp the reality of the situation. It was like trying to hold onto grains of sand slipping through his desperate fingers.

God's cruel irony played out in his mind, the slow unfolding of agony akin to a cosmic joke. The initial shock gave way to a numbing bruise of reality, the mind struggling to make sense of the chaos within. In the fog of confusion, bizarre thoughts took root, fueled by the primal fear of facing the unknown alone.

Unseen fears crept into his heart, casting a long shadow over his fragile state. In the midst of his turmoil, Kwan found himself turning to prayers, a desperate plea for respite from the crushing weight of truth. But in that moment of reckoning, the harsh reality dawned upon him - there was no escaping the painful truth.

Unknown were the trembling fears that made their way right into his heart. After all that had happened till now, Hoseok prayed for anything but a forgery.

But that was the real truth now.

Grief is nothing more than the horizon of love. Love is the light, and grief is its shadow. Grief is the echo of love, which is an opera. It's impossible to have one without the other. However, if you follow your pain, you will eventually return to love, but with a new definition of it.

Kwan couldn't tear her gaze away from her own reflection in the mirror. The woman staring back with eyes filled with unshed tears seemed like a stranger. The once vibrant features now looked worn, marked by the trials of a love gone wrong.

She could feel his eyes on her, but she refused to meet his gaze. The silence between them was heavy, suffocating. His words cut through the stillness like a knife, each syllable dripping with finality.

As he spoke, Kwan felt the last remnants of hope slipping through her fingers like grains of sand. The ship they had painstakingly built together was now sinking, and there was nothing she could do to save it.

"And leave now. We had what we had, and now nothing is there to think of those old things. So, wrap it up and discard it, Kwan!"

She turned on her feet, stepping away from the vulnerable man who had nothing to say, nothing at all. He closed his eyes. The cascade of longing waiting inside was so thick he thought he might drown in it. And he was ready to drown, to reach the bottomless chasm of agony, to douse a little more until the agonies filled his lungs, his heart, his larynx, and nostrils until they pulled him up from the fathom.

He wanted to bleed, to slash his wrist and twist his joints, to crack his neck and die of such agonising pain that nothing held any good hold against those remains.

But then, salvation was too hard to attain...

...

"Gaahhh-yghhh!" He choked, trying to hold back the sob. Obligatory sounds of discomfort and pain echoed through the chamber; no matter how much he tried, he couldn't stop it.

"Let gaa-aahh it s-ss-stop Hy-on ughhhh!" His body was messed up. His heart, once rippling with love, now had an immense feud with sadness spreading over his nerves. He was rotten and lost.

"Hyung... Please!"

Hyon clasped his arms around Hobi. His frantic arches and twitching body were in pain, possessed by heartbreak. Sangji could smell the burning heart. He was taught in such a way that he was born with a heart full of love. And now, as Tae held a panic-stricken boy in his arms, all his wizardry, all his spells, fell to deaf ears. No matter what he did and how, none seemed to work.

"Ughhh ahhhhh!" It ached and nobody could stop it.

Jin had somehow fled their star to make Kwan reach his home. But above all, he was scared, Kwan had been smiling intently, too bright and too painful, and Jin prayed to Jehovah with all his might to let it rain, to break the dam and let it flow. And now, eyeing the man, he ran over to hold him tight, letting Hyon do whatever he could.

He'd tried everything he could think of to make him forget or clear his mind, but even his harp couldn't help. So, he chose one little whim to let him sleep in the slumber of unrest.

He rolled his sleeves and closed his eyes. His fingers played a silent symphony and his lips uttered those forbidden words...

"Laissez-le dormir, jusqu'à l'éternelle agitation..."

(Allow him to sleep until he becomes eternally restless.)

Thrice of the chant and the broken boy fell into the land of unrest.

He fell to his knees, letting his heart out. He howled, he sobbed, he wept. His hyung needed him, and he could be of no help.

"Hyungie..." Muttering the name, against the palm of his hands, his eyes stared at the man intently. Kwan was laying on the bed, his dampened face shimmering against the lowly lit cubicle as Jin pulled the quilt covering the shrinking body.

Kwan was the sunshine of Pirropi, the ball of eternal happiness and transparency. He could cheer up the setting sun and cackle with a smile on the lips of the dead, and now he was nowhere to be found.

Chim sat next to his friend, his hands brushing his locks to calm his unnerved soul.

To say Hyon was broken would be an understatement. Kwan had always been like an elder brother to him, taking care of him, making sure he was fed, making sure he was alive. An orphan was taken under the wing to let him flourish, and now the same man lay broken with nothing but a broken heart.

When Hyon was booted into the woods, a Jaishian by birth, the whole constellation rebuked him; who would take in an unnamed Jaishian? But the fifteen-year-old Kwan took him up against the whole Pirropi, he sheltered him, and gave him a name, 'Hyon' which meant, "All wishes shall be bestowed."

And Sangji, it was born of love, to love.

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Thanks for reading ^^
Yeah, he has been 'Possessed by a heartbreak'.

Painful enough?

♡