Tomorrow is a blur for everyone but not for her. She knows too well that her future is just a repeat of her past. Bloody. Cold. Bruised. That will be her. Will she risk to have that tomorrow again just to treasure the blink of happiness before it w...
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Father said he was well learned, though he had never been schooled. His travels made him know more. He could read people not because he could, but he had to.
- Memory Journal: Traveling Merchants, page 3 –
It's a lie if she says she was never happy. She was. Heavenly so. All the laughs still echo within the chambers of her mind. Their smiles. Their eyes that sparkles with adoration. And those times when they seem to conquer all the challenges and the celebrations that followed. And when they made love under the gaze of the moon and the curious coos of the birds and the rustling of giddy leaves. She had happiness... Impeccable even. However, happiness only stayed when she felt the jolt of joy. It melted and then vanished through time. Fear and hatred in the other hand, stayed and stained the heart. Once it dyed her chest black, it can never go back to the pure whiteness it had been.
Fear and hatred.
Sure, she couldn't remember the hatred, but fear still lingered. Not in the sense so flippant and weak. It harrows and burns unceasingly like the eternal fires of hell.
That's why she still fears. Her body still shudders. Her world is still devoured with its scorching heat. It chars every atom of her being.
She can no longer be helped.
It's as if she's constantly on the cliff and the gust of the wind is inches away from pushing her to fall. Her whole body, rigid, as her gaze down to its bottomless ground. Her toes curling, refusing, yet can't even take a step backwards to save herself. But how to when she knows at her back is another cliff to fall? She's at its frightening peak. Her toes hurt. Her whole body hurts. There's nowhere to go. She can only look forward to the endless cottony clouds that hover. They look like floors, more like futons, whispering promises of her safety if ever she saunters forward. But fear grips her in a haywire.
There is no helping, is there?
And when she looks at the eyes of these men, she feels like she can float and be safe on their arms.
Yet fear chains her.
What to do?
"Jagi..."
"Noona-"
Their voices squeak with confusion and uncertainty. It's as if they feel the fear within her.
"J-..." Her voice fails her. It refuses to scream what her heart harbors. She would have walked away without saying anything, but she can't help but freeze. Especially not with the crease of worry on Jimin's face and the wide wonder on Jungkook's eyes.
The youngest among her soulmate came that noon. He is not on his usual haughty nature. Instead, he is giddy, like a child, as he couldn't contain the happiness that finally she has given chance to their bound. It's quite sad how she can't feel a bit of that happiness. How she wishes she could.
