Illuminate me

Paint my heart a dying red

Sparks, burning away.

§

And I falter at once when your smile lights up the entire room. I can't speak, my words fail every time when it comes to you and no matter how much the silence fills up between the two of us, you know what to do, you always do. Like always, you ask of my day, though you already know of everything I do. Like always, I silently curse at the seventeen feet that separate us as I tell you.

Again, you give me that smile and my words turn hoarse, I feel my chest filled up with things I’d never be able to explain in this lifetime.

You stand the same as always—chin up, shoulders straight—hand firmly on your scabbard, gaze pensive and prepared for any sign of danger. If it weren't for my endless efforts to break down the walls you surround yourself with, I would continue to spend my nights staring at your back view and be the same person hesitant to ever call out your name.

You laugh, your tone mellow and I struggle to not get distracted by the sound. It takes me courage to ask of your day despite it being clockwork to you and me. You're patient as I muster up the words, I avoid your gaze that prompts me to continue, piercing through the dim crimson light of my room and I draw blanks, over and over again.

Why are you so you?

Your day is the same yet so different from the others, you beam a bit more when the Colonel's name leaves your lips, I suppose he was a bit softer on you today (and definitely not because I requested so), you speak of your fellow knights with grimace in your tone because they keep challenging you to pointless fights, you smile and smile and smile, and I try not to get lost in the thoughts of wondering how it would be if I were the cause of that smile.

(I don't see the light twitch of your lips when I laugh at your jokes, I don't see how your eyes soften when I show signs of sleep taking over me.)

“Goodnight, Princess.”

Watching you leave through the wooden doors carved intricately just for me, a step further away, and out of my field of vision.

“Goodnight, Seulgi.” I whisper to the walls of my room, like always.
 

§

Silence; and solitude.

Far away in this picturesque blue, I watch as you sit alone under the sole banyan tree in the courtyard, you look idle at the moment—though I know better. I won’t even bother guessing what goes on in your mind, not when you look so content with the entirety of the world, unbothered by passing time and unrelenting to whatever may come and ripple your seas.

I don’t have the heart to intrude, not when you look finally at peace.

I wonder why.

The Captain whisks you away, the peace fading away from your face and turning stoic, insensitive to what goes on around the little bubble you’ve surrounded yourself with.

Hard-faced Lieutenant Kang Seulgi.

What lies behind the hard-face, who knows.

Perhaps it’s the person who stops every day at the magnolias just to drown in their scent, a wistful smile as your fingers tread across their petals, wanting to steal away one, but never do.

What goes on in your mind, a soundless and swift smile, when you pass by the flowers?

It’s ridiculous, absolutely ridiculous of how I continue to be bound to your very being.

Seconds, days, weeks and months left unfound.

The tree loses its appeal with the lack of your presence. Questions fill up my mind as I drown amongst them, my heart betrays it and I look to the endless blue.

If anyone were to stop me from falling, would it be you?

§

One step closer, three steps back.

Rather defensive than offence.

The Captain appears to be taken aback the moment that you, instead of parrying let the blade strike your armour and in a split second, you twist at his arm.

The grip on his sword slackens, the fear of defeat creeping in his eyes as he writhes out of your hold and raises his sword to fight once again. The art of war, I can only suppose.

Your foe is disarmed after a series of movements I'm left unable to comprehend, a deadly silence hanging in the air with all sights on the broadsword that lies on the ground, gleaming in the sunlight without a care towards the commotion it is yet to cause. The Captain sees an advantage in the situation, his fist aiming straight for your face and elbow for your stomach, you fall with a thud and a cheeky smile on your lips, accepting defeat as the crowd cheers on for the Captain.

A storm brews in this perfect weather, enclosed away from the world never to be known, never to ever unleash its wrath.

Curse this cowardice.

You don't take the hand offered to lift you off the ground, still contemplating in the dirt with your skin sun-kissed, if I could stop time in this moment, I really, really would.

But alas, I cannot, time will move on.

And I, with it.

I spot you at the infirmary soon after, woes to approach or to let it dissolve—hopeless, there's no compulsion for me to when I see a maiden tend to your wounds with a sight ever so painful to see.

I hate that I still think your smile would be the sole cause for the sun to rise and set each day, I still think you're ethereal, I still think you're surreal.

I still think your smile is akin to my entire world, even if it's a smile you'll never show me.

A shine in your eyes.

I shouldn’t be thinking of thoughts like hugging you on cold winter mornings and letting my every sense be engulfed with you, I shouldn’t think of stealing away kisses when no one is watching just to keep me on your mind the entire day, I shouldn’t, I really shouldn’t.

I shouldn’t lose myself in this fantasy of someone like me being with someone like you.

The woman lets her hand graze across your face for a second more than I can bear. Your face dyes pink like an affair no one is supposed to know of after she says something to you, eyes downcast and disbelief taking over your features.

No jealousy, no envy.

I could never be so, not after I know it would be inevitable to fall for your charms if one were to know of you.

(It's a matter of complacent secrecy, it's what the world is never meant to see.)

Three steps backwards, no more front.

The four walls of my room are the only thing that speak volumes to me in the night, stealing me away from your smile ever so blinding, reprimanding me for being lost in this fantasy of mine. Hopeless romantics, hopeless pleas.

My doors remain closed.

Caging my heart from leaping across the room and see you.

Can't you hear it beating for you?

Nineteen.

Crimson red, royal blue.

My dreams are void of bouquets of white flowers kissing my feet.

Ridiculous—or to be more exact, miserable.

§

Don't ask me what it is, absolutely don't.

An undying fire of whatever it is filling me up after a tiring day, ignited by the curls of your smile and the chimes of your laughter, I realize it's inevitable each passing moment, I don't cease it and I know you won't.

(I know what it is, or perha