Aᴄᴄɪᴅᴇɴᴛᴀʟ Mᴇᴇᴛɪɴɢ ☥ Tᴀᴇᴍɪɴ & Nᴀᴇᴜɴ
→ Whenever another informs someone or themselves that the past stays in the past. They forgotten to bring up that no matter what occurs present day or perhaps the future, the past can always reach up to you.
She’s constantly running away from those memories, wanting to start anew and to branch out to the person she was before. The more of a challenge it was, the harder it was to keep herself together. Especially since she fallen into the wrong type of people and situation, risking her life on a daily basis. Even in a new location, somehow certain people can get the word out easily and it led to her escaping their eyes before they snatch her away once again.
Insomnia. Trouble of sleeping, difficulty with her mind shutting down for a few hours. She found herself walking along the pavement, hands digging deep into the pocket of her dark maroon colored coat that was embraced her petite figure warmly. Feet pressed against the concrete pavement, step by step - they were quiet. Silent steps directing herself around the block then back to the hotel where she was currently residing in. Cars were passing by, the lights beaming towards her one moment then the next it seemed to vanish into the night. A trail of footsteps were stepping closer to the girl and from there she felt oddly uneasy. Naeun can hear them, attempting to grasp onto her attention but she didn’t turn her head; the way her heart was beating gradually became faster with every step. She showed no signs of interest towards them, instead she continues to walk but quicker.
They found her but chances are - they wouldn’t necessarily capture her.
Head ducking down, wind blowing carelessly through the air as it hits the woman’s skin; letting it brush along her dark brunette colored hair. Soon enough the tone in the male’s voice began to become a bit thicker, huskier as well - threats tossed towards her if she didn’t stop soon but she didn’t mind nor care. The petite female was used to it by now. This whole chasing and escaping situation was beginning to become a routine when she steps out of the night.
What a beautiful night. What a beautiful world. Except in all the beauty, there was so much foul play. He walked along, laying ground behind himself. He passed faces; done up faces, naked faces, shy faces, bold faces and hiding faces. None of them held much of interest to him. None of them stirred his thoughts away from how they were just faces—were just humans with whom he had no reason for affection. The night breeze touched his black hair, the pale of his neck, and he inhaled cigarette smoke, he inhaled car gas and pollution; the scents of the city, this ironic version of fresh air, but it was okay. It could not harm him, and he walked on, black boots taking him further, hands slid into the pockets of black jeans with decorative zippers going across his thighs, across his legs. Stop.
The word caught in his mind like a fly to a web, and at first the reasons it brought him on edge were the instincts of self-perseverance rather than anything heroic, anything kind and worthy of praise. Threats. They came closer, by every moment passing, closing in from behind, and though his initial reaction had been trying to deduce whether they were after him, he soon realised it was not so, and he twisted his torso casually, enough to glance behind. Brown hair which looked nearly black in the night. Skin so fair it could have nearly rivaled his own. Nearly. The glance behind was quicker than a second, and should not have meant more than a swerve to the right for him; a sidestep to get out of the way. It should not have meant another glance following, as faintly widened eyes snapped onto the young woman, caught on her ducked face, the strands of hair having a life of their own in the wind.
Images, they rushed. Blood, and glass so crushed. Life slipping from his fingers and choices he had never wanted to have the need to make. They flashed before his mind and even though the dead heart within his chest could no longer beat, it felt clenched, as he forgot to breathe. Naeun, his mind whispered to him. Naeun.
Naeun. His gaze left the girl to briefly flicker over the people following her, before he took a sidestep. Except it was not out of the way, in the manner he usually would have. Instead he was moving himself so that as she walked on, he fell into steps with her. “Naeun”, he voiced out, looking towards her with pale eyes. Close as he was now, he was sure. It was her. Alive and breathing, he could not be wrong, not of that face. The one which had haunted his memory the past years, the thought of her death making him rage a war within himself.
renetae reblogged this from archive4selentieun and added:
The adrenaline which flowed in her veins were sweet to his senses, undeniably there; it was difficult to ignore when you...
archive4selentieun reblogged this from renetae and added:
→ Every time the male began to speed up, hearing the tires screech and create friction between the ground she can feel...