Poster Credit; ver-sah-tyle/blogspot.com | Made by; DJ

A Better Time

The belief that one's own view of reality is the only reality is the most dangerous of all delusions.

~ Paul Watzlawick

A rusty pen scratched against old parchment. A figure was bent over the redwood table that had seen too many years. The sides of the room were scaled with books, of all shapes and sizes many of which had been read too many times and were slowly falling to pieces. The carpet was a deep fluffy red decorated with the occasional deep brown rug over top. Couches and a small sitting table were to the far side of the room.

The brown bob of hair didn’t lift when the large doors creaked parallel to the table opened and soft footfall broke the consistent scratching noise.

‘Dongwoon?’ a soft voice whispered. He pen stilled for a moment, before continuing it’s journey over the page again.

‘Dongwoon…’ the voice was sad, to the point of exhaustion, ‘Come to bed, Dongwoon.’

The pen continued to scratch the paper. A page turned. The writing continued. ‘Are the kids asleep?’ he asked, voice scratchy from lack of use.

‘They were asleep four hours ago…’ The voice moved closer, a gentle hand touched his shoulder, ‘Please, all you do is write. What happened to us?’ He didn’t respond, the pen simply moved faster. He’d read it when she was gone, relive the moments again.

If he’d stopped writing for a moment, if he’d taken the time to look up at his wife he would have noticed the tears in her eyes, the thin cheeks and pale complexion that had been missing in the days they’d been in love. Before she’d made a mistake and everything had changed.

Her delicate hand rose, pushing aside a stray tear. Her hands rose to her upper arms, trying to fight away the chill of his mood. Slowly she walked towards the book shelf, her hand rising to brush along the stems of the books.

‘What do you write about?’

An impatient sigh fell from his lips, ‘A better time,’ he grumbled.

She turned, a confused look over her face but she only saw the top of his head. ‘Jinae’s asking about you.’ She finally whispered, not sure what else to talk about.

The pen stalled for a moment at the mention of his daughter before moving again, ‘She has you.’

Her hands balled into fists, small delicate hands that held nails she had gnawed to pieces before entering the room. ‘She misses you,’

‘She’ll survive.’

‘She needs her father!’

The pen slammed to a stop and for the first time that day she met his eyes and wished she hadn’t. They were cold, too cold. Suddenly she felt tiny and insignificant. She shrunk back into the corner.

‘She’s only two,’ she whispered.

Dongwoon stood slowly, hands resting on the table, ‘If you hadn’t cheated on me when you already had our son then maybe I’d care about your bastard daughter.’

Tears sprung to the surface, to that day she still didn’t understand why she’d done it. She loved Dongwoon, still, despite the life they lived together. A life of convenient hate.

‘What about Jinyoung?’ she whispered, ‘He starts kindergarten next week. He wanted you to be there.’

Dongwoon’s face softened. A smile, of sorts, appeared as he thought of his little boy. ‘Jinyoung can have whatever he wants,’ he whispered.

Pain shot through her heart but, unsure what else to do she simply nodded. Dongwoon moved around the desk, not before he shoved the book he’d been writing into a draw. He was going to Jinyoung, she already knew.

He paused at the door but didn’t turn back to her. With a voice she remembered from years previous, the years before she’d broken his heart he whispered, ‘Don’t stay up late and go eat something. You look ill.’

Then he was gone.

She should have left, her head screamed at her to leave but she found herself moving forward. She wanted to read it. Wanted to know what took him away from life, what made him ignore his family. Her hands were shaky when she pulled the draw out, fearful over the slight scrapping sound it made in the suddenly deathly quiet room.

Her hands fumbled with the book, scared to open its tattered surface. She didn’t want to know what went on in his mind but still she flipped it open and began to read.

Right now… I’m writing a happy story that’s in my thoughts but it’s all just a wish... still.

The next few pages were blank.

She runs to me, a smile on her angelic face. Our engagement ring flashed in the sparkling sunlight before she jumped into my arms and I couldn’t stop the smile that beamed over my face. She was perfect. We were perfect.

’14 more days,’ she whispered in my ear and a smile slowly spread over my lips. The wedding preparations had been difficult, more stressful than I’d thought but her smile; her laugh and the way she talked about our ‘big day’ made everything better.

Tears sprung to her eyes again. He was writing memories?

Somehow the candle light makes her more beautiful. We’re convinced the neighbors to look after Jinyoung for the night – finally I had her alone. I wonder if I was smiling too brightly, she looks slightly nervous.

I ask her why but she doesn’t answer me. I’m not worried. I trust her.

‘Is it me?’

She laughs and shakes her head. With a quick glance at me she bites her lip and heaves out a sigh.

‘I wasn’t sure how to tell you, that’s all.’

My brow furrowed, ‘What is it? Do you want another baby?’

She choked on the wine she brought to her lips. Her scared eyes met mine before a smile bloomed over my face.

‘Close.’ She whispered, her hands came up to cover , ‘I’m pregnant!’

‘What?’ she whispered, rereading the page. That was the night he’d found out she’d been cheating on him. It hadn’t ended that way.

7 months pregnant and still beautiful, though she somehow thinks that she’s an ugly walking balloon. I have to disagree; she’s a beautiful walking balloon. The fact that my wife was carrying our second child was still unbelievable.

She flipped through some more pages. Growing desperate and scared.

I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you.

She slammed the book shut, sobs rattling her small frame. He was writing what their life should have been like, what it would have been like if she hadn’t been an idiot.

When the sobs had subsided, when she’d pushed the tears away and found the strength to pick up his pen she found herself opening to the next empty page.

Right now…. I’m writing such a happy story. But it’s all just a wish.

Replies;

myasaiinbBy;
Welcome! :D Thanks for commenting!! :} Haha sorry, most of my songs are a bit angst. I'm sorry if they're a bit too depressing. Thank you~! I'll work hard to make more stories for me.

aniyababo;
Aww, thank you! It's good that you listened to the different songs :} It helps to understand the mood. :O Really? That's awesome haha, I didn't plan that :P Thanks for reading and commenting!!!

BeautyDarkAngel;
:o Sorry haha, I didn't mean to make you sad. (though I'm secretly happy because it means I'm doing a good job) Thank you so much! I still have a lot of work to do though :] Sorry for the late update! I was kinda waiting on the poster :P So it's neat for you guys hahaha.

ketketket;
Thank you!! Haha I'm sure they could be better but thank you!! I'm glad you can feel the emotion~! I tried to make it like that. Ahahaha, thank you~! I've still got a long way to go~ Sorry for the late update hehe, I was waiting on a poster to make it pretty for you guys. :D I hope you enjoyed the update!