༺Masterpiece༻

XXV :: My lady

"Death's that thing we all gotta face,
The finale, the last lap in this race.
It's not the end, just a change of tone,
In the universe's playlist, we're not alone.

Life and death, like buddies in a band,
Jamming together, hand in hand.
Once it's over, dawn after the night
It'll never be the same
Crazy right?"

⊱ ───ஓ๑♡๑ஓ ─── ⊰

Bathed in the golden hues of a sun bidding adieu to the day, she sat alone on the swing, a delicate specter in the haven Cheon Seok had crafted for her—a sanctuary amidst the tumult of an orphanage he built with love's own hands. The gentle creak of the swing echoed the symphony of her solitude.

Her heart, once a melody entwined with the tender strains of Cheon Seok's love, now echoed with the haunting notes of silence. Days stretched into nights, and the absence of his letters, those lifelines that connected their hearts across the battlefield, weighed upon her like the burden of unspoken fears.

The letters she sent, each word a whisper of longing, remained unanswered, lost in the vast expanse that separated them. With every dawn that heralded the birth of hope, she clung to the notion that today, perhaps, his words would find their way to her, bridging the chasm carved by the war.

Yet, the swing cradled her gently, bearing witness to her soliloquy—a tender conversation with the life burgeoning within her womb. The child, a testament to their love, danced to the rhythm of its own existence, a silent witness to the poetry etched in their shared history.

She spoke to the unborn, her words a lullaby woven with the threads of love that bound her to Cheon Seok. "Your father, a hero in a world gripped by shadows, battles a war that echoes louder than the lullabies I sing to you. He paints the sky with bravery, yet the canvas of my heart is daubed with the hues of his absence."

The swing swayed gently, a companion in her solitude, as if trying to cradle her sorrows in its own rhythmic embrace. Each stroke of the breeze whispered secrets of longing, carrying her words to the farthest reaches where her lover might hear.

"He promised to return, and I believe in the echo of that promise carried by the winds. Yet, the letters I send find no refuge in his hands, and the silence between us grows into a chasm I'm afraid to cross."

Her hands rested on the gentle curve of her belly, a sacred vessel that harbored the essence of their love. "You, my sweet one, are the living testament to the love we share. But oh, how my heart aches to hold him in these arms, to share with him the dance of your first steps, to weave a family beneath the tapestry of stars he once promised to lay at our feet."

The swing, a silent witness to the ache within her, swayed as if acknowledging the sacredness of her solitude. In the twilight of the orphanage, where the world outside seemed to dissolve into a dreamscape, she continued her soliloquy—a testament of love suspended between the echoes of hope and the silence that stretched across the battlefield, reaching for a connection that transcended the constraints of war.

⊱ ───ஓ๑♡๑ஓ ─── ⊰

"Mai," I replied again, the name hanging in the air like a secret melody.

But as I uttered the name, Y/n's face twisted into a mixture of confusion and frustration.

"Your what now?" Y/n quipped, her tone laced with a hint of playful jealousy. The banter began, a dance of words fraught with unspoken emotion

"What? What my?"

"You and your 'my' lady on the swing," she retorted, her actions mirroring a simmering discontent.