( ah... now she remembers why they never got along. they're too alike — too quick to mask their real feelings behind harsh words, meaning well, unable to express it. they're both too closed off; too adamant to keep their problems and issues to themselves, too used to relying on nobody that when push comes to shove they're always alone, always left somewhere behind. who would stop and wait for unwanted children? the world lives on; life continues, passes them by, uncaring of their involvement.
she feels distant from everything, always — right now, though, she's as close to hajun as she's ever been. )
Spoiled... ( she repeats, a little amused. well, nobody's ever spoiled her, so he's got that wrong; she acts like the world owes her something, because it does. isn't it unfair, that she'll never get to experience the same things as other kids? being spoiled? being wanted? being treated well?
the harsh shell she surrounds her heart with is there for a reason: if she doesn't act like everyone owes her something, nobody will ever give her anything. or so she believes, at least.
his hand is warm. her whole body feels frozen cold, skin paler than usual, breaths uneven. but... she can feel the way he slides his palm beneath hers; slow, tender, almost, the warmth of it spreading across her arm. she clings to that heat; reminds herself that there's people, as brief as they are, who wouldn't want her to die just yet. giving up is as easy as closing her eyes and waiting for impact: she remembers the way it felt back home, the seconds that separated her from death, and shivers, fearful.
no... she doesn't want to die. she can't. not yet. )
I guess... I have to stick around, huh? For the prince's forgiveness. ( she smiles, a little sheepish, cold fingers squeezing his hand weakly. the truth is, she needs it — forgiveness. she just let someone die, and though there wasn't much she could do to stop it, it... still feels as if she hasn't done enough. as if she wasn't ready to go far enough to save a life, and it weighs heavy on her shoulders. ) Hey... have you ever... hurt someone? Like... physically. Beat them up, or... something?
[ It comes easier this way. Distant -- needing that separation to keep himself from ever being betrayed again. His heart no longer aches with longing when he thinks of his family; it only ever reminds him of who he can't be anymore. Open, sensitive, and loving. Because the moment he's any of those things he'll be disappointed with the reality that he'll always be alone. ]
Don't call me that. Not unless if you intend to treat me as one.
[ So his tone remains leveled and bitter, hiding the fact that his concern is so evident in his face that he may as well be crying. Hajun wishes for the hour to be over with already, for the sake of rushing her to the infimary and not be here -- holding her hand, keeping her talking, and having to reveal little secrets. ]
... I haven't. [ He speaks honestly, even if he doesn't want to. ] Word would spread and I would undoubtedly lose everything I was building up... so if I have to fight, I'll do it in the dark.
I can't treat you as one when... all you do is insult meeeee... ( she whines, like a child, as if she's not also insulting him in return, but, look, details.
if he wants to be treated as a prince, he should behave as one? except, she wouldn't want that fake, smiley hajun, either. the real him — unmasked by the fifty thousand walls he's built around himself, similar to her. maybe it's selfish of her to want to see a glimpse of it, but... they've already kind of screwed each other in that regard, anyway, haven't they? showing each other things that normally nobody would be allowed to see.)
... ( she pauses for a moment, thoughtful. ) ... and... if you could save someone... would you still refrain... ?
Are you kidding? [ Hajun doesn't mean to, but he laughs; soft and boyish, exhaling as the corners of his mouth lift into a smile. ] You're capable, you just don't want to -- I'm curious, actually, if that's because you like being insulted?
[ The question extends and he pauses, briefly. Considers what to say and how to say it; he wonders how ugly he can be with his response, how honest. ]
There are people I want to hurt. [ -- Inhale, exhale. ] There are people that I want to kill -- and I will. And I'll ensure that they die a painful, miserable death. [ His fingers twitch, wanting to pull away and no longer feel another person as he slowly disarms himself. Allowing Rika a glimpse into another half -- his true half -- that Hajun keeps hidden. ] For the people I care for, too, I might... because I couldn't stand losing anyone else.
( says miss calls people ugly and fat, but listen. she understands, now, the weight of her own words — and how hurtful insults can be, if aimed properly. then again... masochists exist...
well, cannot be her. she wants praise and compliments and adoration, thank you.
she watches him, quiet; feels his hand twitch, as if he's about to pull away, but — he seems to brave through the urge, if only to comfort her. she appreciates it, though it goes unspoken, as she listens to his words — real, determined, in a rare moment of complete honesty. ... yeah, that... makes sense. she doesn't want to lose anyone else, either. she's not good with loss — it consumes her, burns her from the inside out, the ever-bleeding heart too weak to handle it.
if... if it were to prevent it... )
That's... actually really admirable, y'know? The determination it takes for that... I... I couldn't do anything. ( she turns her head to look at the ceiling, lips curving into a deep frown. ) I just... I froze. I panicked. It's my fault.
( her heartbeat spikes, body shifting uncomfortably; she wants to turn back time. she wants to do more, but she can't, and it's the worst feeling in the world. )
Calm down. [ He says, thumb brushing over her knuckles. ] You'll strain your throat. The last thing I want is for you to also complain about losing your voice... even though I think most here would prefer not to hear whatever you have to say for a few days.
[ All teasing and insults aside, Hajun deflects. Defending the slow unravel that shows his heart, ugly and full of scars that refuse to heal; he can't, not until he's ensured that the family that drowned him with conditional love receive the brunt force of all his anguish. The years of loneliness, the fact that he was brought into this world only to be abandoned twice -- all the love he's ever received had to be earned. And not an ounce of it was actually genuine.
Perhaps that's why he's readily prepared to destroy it all. Even at the cost of his own body and mind; continuously experiencing his traumas, furthering rendering his body to rotten metal. There's a part of him that doesn't care for the end of himself, so long as he accomplishes his goal... if his body were to be destroyed, his mind lost to his pain, he'd at least die knowing he'd won.
He won. Unloved and unwanted. An unneeded child leaving his mark. ]
You're still a child. [ The morning sun begins to peer behind them through the windows. ] If you were able to instinctively decide that you can kill a person, you'd just lead yourself somewhere no one can reach you. [ Hajun glances behind him, eyes squinting as he's met with the bright light before he rises back up on his feet. ] Plus, it wouldn't be very cute of you.
[ That said, Hajun bends down slightly again to princess carry her. Taking a glance over his jacket that's now drenched in blood; he steadies his expression, ensures that he doesn't look disappointed before he begins his walk towards the nurses office. ]
( she snickers at that, amused, because... well, he's not wrong, but is she gonna do everyone a favor and shut the fuck up? absolutely not.
that said, she remains quiet, listening to her own, calming heartbeat and focusing on the warmth of his touch. his thumb brushes over her knuckles, and she lets her eyelids flutter shut, feeling a moment of peace... for the first time tonight, pretty much. it's hard to think of anything else but the repeating sight of the girl's slit throat, of her desperate cries, of what else she could do to prevent it —
but then hajun speaks, and she feels relief. these words... she can't express it, but hearing them means so much — she's been struggling with this for a long time, now, with the necessity of hurting others to survive, but... he's right. if she were able to just throw her humanity away like this, consequences be damned, she wouldn't be herself anymore. blinking the tears out of her eyes, she wants to tell him how thankful she is, but... finding the right words is hard. instead, she smiles and nods, clearly calmer, arms reaching to wrap around his neck as soon as he picks her up. )
Killing people is not cute? First time I hear that. ( snorting against his shoulder, she glances down at the table set-up, and the bloodied jacket on top of it.
damn... that's gonna cost her and arm and a leg, huh... )
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
she feels distant from everything, always — right now, though, she's as close to hajun as she's ever been. )
Spoiled... ( she repeats, a little amused. well, nobody's ever spoiled her, so he's got that wrong; she acts like the world owes her something, because it does. isn't it unfair, that she'll never get to experience the same things as other kids? being spoiled? being wanted? being treated well?
the harsh shell she surrounds her heart with is there for a reason: if she doesn't act like everyone owes her something, nobody will ever give her anything. or so she believes, at least.
his hand is warm. her whole body feels frozen cold, skin paler than usual, breaths uneven. but... she can feel the way he slides his palm beneath hers; slow, tender, almost, the warmth of it spreading across her arm. she clings to that heat; reminds herself that there's people, as brief as they are, who wouldn't want her to die just yet. giving up is as easy as closing her eyes and waiting for impact: she remembers the way it felt back home, the seconds that separated her from death, and shivers, fearful.
no... she doesn't want to die. she can't. not yet. )
I guess... I have to stick around, huh? For the prince's forgiveness. ( she smiles, a little sheepish, cold fingers squeezing his hand weakly. the truth is, she needs it — forgiveness. she just let someone die, and though there wasn't much she could do to stop it, it... still feels as if she hasn't done enough. as if she wasn't ready to go far enough to save a life, and it weighs heavy on her shoulders. ) Hey... have you ever... hurt someone? Like... physically. Beat them up, or... something?
no subject
Don't call me that. Not unless if you intend to treat me as one.
[ So his tone remains leveled and bitter, hiding the fact that his concern is so evident in his face that he may as well be crying. Hajun wishes for the hour to be over with already, for the sake of rushing her to the infimary and not be here -- holding her hand, keeping her talking, and having to reveal little secrets. ]
... I haven't. [ He speaks honestly, even if he doesn't want to. ] Word would spread and I would undoubtedly lose everything I was building up... so if I have to fight, I'll do it in the dark.
no subject
if he wants to be treated as a prince, he should behave as one? except, she wouldn't want that fake, smiley hajun, either. the real him — unmasked by the fifty thousand walls he's built around himself, similar to her. maybe it's selfish of her to want to see a glimpse of it, but... they've already kind of screwed each other in that regard, anyway, haven't they? showing each other things that normally nobody would be allowed to see.)
... ( she pauses for a moment, thoughtful. ) ... and... if you could save someone... would you still refrain... ?
no subject
[ The question extends and he pauses, briefly. Considers what to say and how to say it; he wonders how ugly he can be with his response, how honest. ]
There are people I want to hurt. [ -- Inhale, exhale. ] There are people that I want to kill -- and I will. And I'll ensure that they die a painful, miserable death. [ His fingers twitch, wanting to pull away and no longer feel another person as he slowly disarms himself. Allowing Rika a glimpse into another half -- his true half -- that Hajun keeps hidden. ] For the people I care for, too, I might... because I couldn't stand losing anyone else.
no subject
( says miss calls people ugly and fat, but listen. she understands, now, the weight of her own words — and how hurtful insults can be, if aimed properly. then again... masochists exist...
well, cannot be her. she wants praise and compliments and adoration, thank you.
she watches him, quiet; feels his hand twitch, as if he's about to pull away, but — he seems to brave through the urge, if only to comfort her. she appreciates it, though it goes unspoken, as she listens to his words — real, determined, in a rare moment of complete honesty. ... yeah, that... makes sense. she doesn't want to lose anyone else, either. she's not good with loss — it consumes her, burns her from the inside out, the ever-bleeding heart too weak to handle it.
if... if it were to prevent it... )
That's... actually really admirable, y'know? The determination it takes for that... I... I couldn't do anything. ( she turns her head to look at the ceiling, lips curving into a deep frown. ) I just... I froze. I panicked. It's my fault.
( her heartbeat spikes, body shifting uncomfortably; she wants to turn back time. she wants to do more, but she can't, and it's the worst feeling in the world. )
no subject
[ All teasing and insults aside, Hajun deflects. Defending the slow unravel that shows his heart, ugly and full of scars that refuse to heal; he can't, not until he's ensured that the family that drowned him with conditional love receive the brunt force of all his anguish. The years of loneliness, the fact that he was brought into this world only to be abandoned twice -- all the love he's ever received had to be earned. And not an ounce of it was actually genuine.
Perhaps that's why he's readily prepared to destroy it all. Even at the cost of his own body and mind; continuously experiencing his traumas, furthering rendering his body to rotten metal. There's a part of him that doesn't care for the end of himself, so long as he accomplishes his goal... if his body were to be destroyed, his mind lost to his pain, he'd at least die knowing he'd won.
He won. Unloved and unwanted. An unneeded child leaving his mark. ]
You're still a child. [ The morning sun begins to peer behind them through the windows. ] If you were able to instinctively decide that you can kill a person, you'd just lead yourself somewhere no one can reach you. [ Hajun glances behind him, eyes squinting as he's met with the bright light before he rises back up on his feet. ] Plus, it wouldn't be very cute of you.
[ That said, Hajun bends down slightly again to princess carry her. Taking a glance over his jacket that's now drenched in blood; he steadies his expression, ensures that he doesn't look disappointed before he begins his walk towards the nurses office. ]
no subject
that said, she remains quiet, listening to her own, calming heartbeat and focusing on the warmth of his touch. his thumb brushes over her knuckles, and she lets her eyelids flutter shut, feeling a moment of peace... for the first time tonight, pretty much. it's hard to think of anything else but the repeating sight of the girl's slit throat, of her desperate cries, of what else she could do to prevent it —
but then hajun speaks, and she feels relief. these words... she can't express it, but hearing them means so much — she's been struggling with this for a long time, now, with the necessity of hurting others to survive, but... he's right. if she were able to just throw her humanity away like this, consequences be damned, she wouldn't be herself anymore. blinking the tears out of her eyes, she wants to tell him how thankful she is, but... finding the right words is hard. instead, she smiles and nods, clearly calmer, arms reaching to wrap around his neck as soon as he picks her up. )
Killing people is not cute? First time I hear that. ( snorting against his shoulder, she glances down at the table set-up, and the bloodied jacket on top of it.
damn... that's gonna cost her and arm and a leg, huh... )