During: haven

Siyeon probably knew this was a bad idea.

With all of her faults practically etched onto her like a tattoo - a saying she cannot revert unless she tries literally ripping her skin off; even if an abundant mass latter of layers she place upon it will not suffice - she's bound to just move on and shed on a new exterior as to what usual people who might have cracked their way towards the unattainable they thought was worth the sow. She's not stupid enough to realize when to actually stop and just jump over the crooked fence that was easy to tackle if not for the worry of tiny splinters, and the vivid image of what's on the other side. Maybe paranoid, but Siyeon never really cared about risks in the first place. The gamble she took, she'll never deny. If only she can deliberately smoke all her ideals away, then maybe dying of lung cancer would have done the finale of the trick she phased as gratification, an entertainment to keep her wheels going on for a long time.

Hilariously enough, she favors standing so still, rooted on the veins of love she was so fragile to, yet the commitment she was willing to give away was scarce and no matter how much she convince herself she did and didn't offer any, there was this nagging mantra going on and on like an untainted, scratchless vinyl, that she did and bestowed far more than she could've imagined.

Her eyes were glued to the ceiling above, a seemingly harmless aerosol wafting from as she exhales the diffused matter in a laggard manner. The lamp ignited her surroundings in comfort fluorescence, making her shadows visible along with the emptiness of her apartment with boxes neatly atop one another at the very corner of her room. It was only a studio type, the smallest of the bunch and Siyeon was satisfied with it, furthering the implementation of a single lass living on her own for the past month she was with another (they weren't really a thing, what was she talking about). Her fridge was basically empty, compared to when it was filled with ingredients whose sole purpose was to bake macaroons, she got accustomed to throughout when one visits. Consumption of regular foods were all replaced with vexing (but safer) vapes. Mind clouded only by her.

She might have given away a part of her too much. More than a piece, a slice and any partiality alive.

"This isn't like you, Siyeon. Please, you've got to think about this"

"You already got guts for telling me what to do when just days ago you were afraid to even approach me, let alone breathe a feat away"

"I know. But that's all in the past now, is it?"

"Just like how these feelings I can no longer turn blind eye to..."

"I'm sorry, Siyeon"

A beat of excruciating but fading pain of understanding.

"No. I should be the one that's sorry"

Siyeon grunted to herself as the memories surged itself forward, crawling to land and regret the choices she had made previously. She retracks her numb