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31_days2010-08-31 10:59 pm
in-censors.livejournal.com) wrote in 31_days2010-08-31 10:59 pm
[August 31] [Super Junior] forget-me-not
Title: forget-me-not
Day/Theme: August 31 / the esthetic of lostness
Series: Super Junior
Character/Pairing: Sungmin/Ryeowook
Rating: R
Ryeowook woke up at six am, bone tired and ready to go back to bed, but he thought of Sungmin, and how he needed to make breakfast for Sungmin. It was the least he could do for him, he supposed. Tomorrow, he wouldn't be alive to cook for Sungmin, to hear Sungmin's voice as he parroted the news for the day. Sungmin had nothing to look forward to but lonely mornings in the future, until he could find someone else to love.
Someone else. The thought of it made Ryeowook's heart clench, but it was the last piece of selfishness he could afford for himself, only today.
The past few weeks had seemed insubstantial, distant to Ryeowook’s memory. He’d almost forgotten the smell of Kyuhyun’s blood on his hands, the sweat on his skin that clung to Ryeowook’s shirt, the disbelief in the way Kyuhyun had said his name. He’d forgotten it in the way that resigned people were wont to do, when there was nothing to look forward to in the future. Ryeowook bore his grudges well, but it was useless when he had no idea how to channel his anger to Sungmin. Life was simpler when he didn’t have to think about human frailty and weakness and obsessing over dead and dying men, until it had no meaning in it, only viciousness and hurt.
He’d never forgive Sungmin for the things he’d done, but he’d never spare him the little love he could afford to give. What else did he have to lose, when Sungmin had everything to give up in a matter of days, all for nothing? He’d be the saddest man in the world, before the month was over.
He got out of bed and started to rummage around the kitchen for something to eat. Outside, there were few birds chirping in Seoul, all concrete and artificial foliage, no abundance of flowers that ran wild unless they were across his own skin. He’d pricked Sungmin, once, in all the hurtful ways of the word. He turned on the TV, not paying much attention to the news. A bank robbery here, a kidnapping there. No mention of a boy who’d died for someone else’s selfishness, for someone else’s own ends. Sometimes, the cruelest stories could be found in the most beautiful places, hidden in the country, where no one could hear about it from a mile away. Ryeowook rinsed his hands and stared at the platter of eggs on the table, feeling sick to his stomach, and it was with reluctance that he got up to rouse Sungmin from sleep.
"Wake up," Ryeowook said, shaking Sungmin's shoulders, cold to his touch, and rolling him away from his position, flat on his stomach, "I'm not spending my last day on earth with you sleeping the day away, let's--"
Ryeowook stopped, and stared at Sungmin, where a handful of petals lay wilting on his chest, save for one thing.
A single, blossoming forget-me-not, right next to his heart.
Day/Theme: August 31 / the esthetic of lostness
Series: Super Junior
Character/Pairing: Sungmin/Ryeowook
Rating: R
Ryeowook woke up at six am, bone tired and ready to go back to bed, but he thought of Sungmin, and how he needed to make breakfast for Sungmin. It was the least he could do for him, he supposed. Tomorrow, he wouldn't be alive to cook for Sungmin, to hear Sungmin's voice as he parroted the news for the day. Sungmin had nothing to look forward to but lonely mornings in the future, until he could find someone else to love.
Someone else. The thought of it made Ryeowook's heart clench, but it was the last piece of selfishness he could afford for himself, only today.
The past few weeks had seemed insubstantial, distant to Ryeowook’s memory. He’d almost forgotten the smell of Kyuhyun’s blood on his hands, the sweat on his skin that clung to Ryeowook’s shirt, the disbelief in the way Kyuhyun had said his name. He’d forgotten it in the way that resigned people were wont to do, when there was nothing to look forward to in the future. Ryeowook bore his grudges well, but it was useless when he had no idea how to channel his anger to Sungmin. Life was simpler when he didn’t have to think about human frailty and weakness and obsessing over dead and dying men, until it had no meaning in it, only viciousness and hurt.
He’d never forgive Sungmin for the things he’d done, but he’d never spare him the little love he could afford to give. What else did he have to lose, when Sungmin had everything to give up in a matter of days, all for nothing? He’d be the saddest man in the world, before the month was over.
He got out of bed and started to rummage around the kitchen for something to eat. Outside, there were few birds chirping in Seoul, all concrete and artificial foliage, no abundance of flowers that ran wild unless they were across his own skin. He’d pricked Sungmin, once, in all the hurtful ways of the word. He turned on the TV, not paying much attention to the news. A bank robbery here, a kidnapping there. No mention of a boy who’d died for someone else’s selfishness, for someone else’s own ends. Sometimes, the cruelest stories could be found in the most beautiful places, hidden in the country, where no one could hear about it from a mile away. Ryeowook rinsed his hands and stared at the platter of eggs on the table, feeling sick to his stomach, and it was with reluctance that he got up to rouse Sungmin from sleep.
"Wake up," Ryeowook said, shaking Sungmin's shoulders, cold to his touch, and rolling him away from his position, flat on his stomach, "I'm not spending my last day on earth with you sleeping the day away, let's--"
Ryeowook stopped, and stared at Sungmin, where a handful of petals lay wilting on his chest, save for one thing.
A single, blossoming forget-me-not, right next to his heart.