Ship/Member: Wonwoo/Jeonghan Major Tags: N/A Additional Tags: minor character death (implied), blood, lies, ambigous ending, some sort of spies/secret agents setting i guess Permission to remix: Yes
I honestly don't know what possessed me. I'm sorry Ki!! ***
The last time Wonwoo let himself want, someone ended up dead.
In his dreams, the blood is still vivid, staining the palms of his hands, dripping out of a wound that he was unable to cauterize, palms uselessly fumbling to apply pressure. In his dreams, there’s always so much red.
The last time Wonwoo let his guard down, a life was taken, and a golden medal was appointed to his chest, a reminder that he destroyed one life to save countless others. If he could go back and change the trade, he would. If he could go back, he would swap the cards, become a traitor. Choose a life on the run and one less life on his conscience.
He’s learned to tighten the cuffs around his heart, leaving it no room to breathe. In his line of work, wanting leads to death. It leads to countless sleepless nights, made of nightmares stained with memories, whirlwinds of reality poisoning his sleep.
Numbing himself with alcohol isn’t the smartest choice, not when the cool liquid going down his throat doesn’t lessen his want, not when all it does is loosen up his tongue. He should know better than to down another drink, and yet.
“You’re still here.” Jeonghan’s voice is soft, suave, a caress on Wonwoo’s heated skin, a nail on the coffin of his heart. “Thought you would be gone to bed by now.”
The last time Wonwoo let himself want, someone ended up dead. Every time Wonwoo stops himself from wanting, a piece of himself dies. It’s an unbalanced trade.
“Can’t sleep,” Wonwoo says, omitting the ghosts that haunt his dreams. Jeonghan just tips his glass in his direction, downing the clear liquid inside it. He smacks his lips against the sour taste of alcohol mixed with soda, and Wonwoo yearns for that mouth, craves its warmth.
Inside his chest, his traitorous heart beats faster when Jeonghan’s hand squeezes his knee, palm resting over the light fabric of his trousers. It’s a gentle gesture. It’s everything that Jeonghan isn’t - warm, soft, comforting.
The last time Wonwoo let himself want, it wasn’t Jeonghan. Now, with fingers cold from condensation and his heartbeat on the tip of his tongue, Wonwoo wonders how it would feel, to let himself fall into the web of lies that Jeonghan has set out for him.
Play pretend, they told him, but his heart must have not heard. The cuffs around it are loosening up, claws ready to devour, bleeding for a love that isn’t real, that would never be so.
Jeonghan smiles and it’s pretty, even if it's fake.
“I think I love you, Yoon Jeonghan,” Wonwoo says, truth slipping out of him with a bitter chuckle.
The pretty grin stays on Jeonghan’s face, his hand stays on Wonwoo’s knee.
“Everybody’s got to love something,” Jeonghan says back, voice unwavering.
In Wonwoo’s dreams, his face takes the place of the dead, bleeding love out of his wound. In reality, Jeonghan just keeps on smiling.
This time, when Wonwoo lets himself want, it's a losing game.
[FILL]: Everybody’s got to love something
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: minor character death (implied), blood, lies, ambigous ending, some sort of spies/secret agents setting i guess
Permission to remix: Yes
I honestly don't know what possessed me. I'm sorry Ki!!
***
The last time Wonwoo let himself want, someone ended up dead.
In his dreams, the blood is still vivid, staining the palms of his hands, dripping out of a wound that he was unable to cauterize, palms uselessly fumbling to apply pressure. In his dreams, there’s always so much red.
The last time Wonwoo let his guard down, a life was taken, and a golden medal was appointed to his chest, a reminder that he destroyed one life to save countless others. If he could go back and change the trade, he would. If he could go back, he would swap the cards, become a traitor. Choose a life on the run and one less life on his conscience.
He’s learned to tighten the cuffs around his heart, leaving it no room to breathe. In his line of work, wanting leads to death. It leads to countless sleepless nights, made of nightmares stained with memories, whirlwinds of reality poisoning his sleep.
Numbing himself with alcohol isn’t the smartest choice, not when the cool liquid going down his throat doesn’t lessen his want, not when all it does is loosen up his tongue. He should know better than to down another drink, and yet.
“You’re still here.” Jeonghan’s voice is soft, suave, a caress on Wonwoo’s heated skin, a nail on the coffin of his heart. “Thought you would be gone to bed by now.”
The last time Wonwoo let himself want, someone ended up dead. Every time Wonwoo stops himself from wanting, a piece of himself dies. It’s an unbalanced trade.
“Can’t sleep,” Wonwoo says, omitting the ghosts that haunt his dreams. Jeonghan just tips his glass in his direction, downing the clear liquid inside it. He smacks his lips against the sour taste of alcohol mixed with soda, and Wonwoo yearns for that mouth, craves its warmth.
Inside his chest, his traitorous heart beats faster when Jeonghan’s hand squeezes his knee, palm resting over the light fabric of his trousers. It’s a gentle gesture. It’s everything that Jeonghan isn’t - warm, soft, comforting.
The last time Wonwoo let himself want, it wasn’t Jeonghan. Now, with fingers cold from condensation and his heartbeat on the tip of his tongue, Wonwoo wonders how it would feel, to let himself fall into the web of lies that Jeonghan has set out for him.
Play pretend, they told him, but his heart must have not heard. The cuffs around it are loosening up, claws ready to devour, bleeding for a love that isn’t real, that would never be so.
Jeonghan smiles and it’s pretty, even if it's fake.
“I think I love you, Yoon Jeonghan,” Wonwoo says, truth slipping out of him with a bitter chuckle.
The pretty grin stays on Jeonghan’s face, his hand stays on Wonwoo’s knee.
“Everybody’s got to love something,” Jeonghan says back, voice unwavering.
In Wonwoo’s dreams, his face takes the place of the dead, bleeding love out of his wound. In reality, Jeonghan just keeps on smiling.
This time, when Wonwoo lets himself want, it's a losing game.