19

5.

NOVEMBER EIGHTH, NINETEEN NINETY SEVEN. WENZHOU, CHINA.

REGULAR.

For Hyunjin, this was normal. This was regular.

There was this stifling ambiance, articulately interspersed with a tense and unforgiving continuum, rising, stirring, and essentially, never entirely leaving the presence of the aura. Even in the midst of dusk, when Hyunjin's feet, perpetually residing to lie feathers as he advanced, always tending to flee, always prepared to run, the apprehension would return, and he could feel a hysteria bore holes into his frigid stature.

Fire scorches his abdomine, expeditious in it's insicion, no remorse, no remorse, and he wants to cry, oh, how he wants to he held. He wants to scream, yell, express his exuberant distraught-

Oh, but it burns.

It burns, and exasperation piques his throat, clawing until blood emerges from neck, through his bones, passed his arteries, staining with a wicked sort of glister, to his arms, aiming his wrists-

Where thorns already lacerate cells of epedermis.

It's choking. It's choking. Oh, he's going to die-

Let me die.

Let me down slowly-

A mumble. Mayhaps, a whisper - And he was back in bed, all the that of left immense vehemence and sentiment drained to a mere shell, a bystander to his own incessant sequel.

It was was all but beyond gradually discomforting, at the least, constricting Hyunjin with his own inner yearn to have a stable and rather considerable relationship with his guardian, with his father, but the ordained façade Hyunjin monoplized had to be frequently upheld, however being so, so immensely remote, well, it was draining, to the point where during the nights he would crumble, silently mourning for that exclusive enamoured void he never received, curling into himself, beige sheets clutched into hands that held drops of the ocean.

He only had himself.

"Our next target," Jiangeun began, that iniquitously manifested tone heaved, impeccable in it's prognostication and monotonous draw. His father lifted from his lap stacks of documents lined with grim.

"Will be in Zhengzhou."

Hyunjin aquired the information, any mere nanoparticle of inclination to feel, to love, to attach, mercilessly intoxicating his mind like they Er Guo Tou that taints his blood or the Maotai lingering till the sun arose, being pushed away to prevent any further connection. For in a world like Hyunjin's, feelings aren't a possibility.

His father had always told him, don't get attatched; Nothing lasts forever.

Although, Hyunjin would be beyond lying if he had said he'd never fallen for someone.