Ｂｏｏｋ Ｔｗｏ ｏｆ Ｎｅｏ Ｃｉｔｙ Ｔｒｉｌｏｇｙ
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#1 in DYSTOPIA
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Little Red Riding Hood met the Big Bad Wolf. He came to devour her heart; she came to conquer his soul.
Disclaimer: This story might make you cry pt2 ;-;
"...
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C H A P T E R N I N E
My face fought so many emotions - terrified, hurt, and confused.
Yuta's gaze kept getting more and more intense. I wanted to go back to the bed and cover myself with the blanket just to disappear from his sight. But my body didn't move a muscle.
"Get rid of it," he said, breaking the silence.
"Huh?" my face looked puzzled.
"Whatever voices appear in your head," he breathed, "get rid of it."
Is this supposed to be a way of . . . comforting?
"It's not as easy as it sounds, Notorious One."
He blinked at the nickname. I was expecting him to retort back and spat a way better thought comeback. However, the brunette man just silently occupied the couch sitting near the doorway.
He looked at his shoes - or at least I thought that's where he was looking.
"I had them too," he said to the floor. "Often."
The serenity of his voice caught my attention. I glanced over my shoulder, watching him in such a feeble-looking position.
"People think I'm happy of what I am. That I have a perfect life, perfect parents, perfect everything," he scoffed, as if the people's assumptions about his life was nothing but a terrible joke.
"But it's a jumbled mess, Sooji," he breathed. "My life - is a stupid, fucking mistake."
I wasn't prepared to listen to his story, wasn't prepared for him to open up to me, wasn't prepared to see this part of him.
We were designed and molded to be perfect persons - the Capital's inheritor and their Champion - two beings whose power can control the world.
But we weren't. We, like all the others, were just humans. Two limbs, two eyes, ten fingers, a nose, a mouth--- really, no difference.
But what they had that we will never have: was freedom.
"I hated myself sometimes," he continued on and I can see the definition of the muscles and veins on his arms as they slowly displayed tautness. "No. I can't remember liking myself, really. How could I? When I don't even know myself sometimes."
I was good at deceiving people, but never at comforting them.
My feelings were like a machine --- thoughts and feelings were programmed.
