jisike

daffodils [paper tulips]

She didn’t know what she was expecting. All schools were the same, no matter where they were. And all teenagers were stupid, no matter where they were.

Misik had forgotten, somehow, how absolutely crazy Daesik and Jisik were, and how she alternately wanted to slit their throats and hug them. She’d also forgotten, though, how well Dosik understood her, and how they sometimes read each other’s minds without realizing so, moving together like the sun and the moon, always in sync with each other. 

Even Dosik was frustrating sometimes, though, and, in this unfamiliar ground, Misik had yet to find her footing. She wandered, through the castle, through the library, the stacks of books, each older than the last. It wasn’t any less crowded, but it was quieter, and that, Misik could appreciate—at least, at this moment, anyways.

She drifted away from the low murmurs, towards the increasingly darker-colored books, prose and poetry surrounded by a layer of dust. And that was when Misik saw him, tucked away between two shelves, asleep. She paused, and blinked, looking at—the bleached hair, the piercings, the face, smooth and unblemished. She thought, in that moment, that if she reached out and touched him, he would be baby-soft, his hair and his skin. 

He was, she continued, before startling, slightly, her fingers sliding against his cheek as she shifted from where she had reached out, unconsciously, squatting down besides him and tracing his cheek—running her hands through his hair—before she even processed it. 

Misik paused, for one second, before drawing her hand back, but it was too late—he woke up, eyes blinking once, twice, blearily out of focus before they sharpened, focusing on Misik. She jerked up, suddenly, rising and taking a couple of steps back—but she didn’t say anything, a lump of something stuck in her throat. 

And he didn’t say anything either, just looked at her, before his mouth twisted, into something between a smile and a smirk, and Misik could feel herself blushing, something tingling up her spine.

She didn’t apologize. She didn’t say anything, as she took a step back, and then another, and then turned, one whirling motion as she steadily made her way back through the shelves of books, back towards the murmuring of people, towards the things she knew, Dosik’s solid reassurance, Jisik’s glittering presence, Daesik’s sour gloom. 

She didn’t think of how soft his cheek had been in that moment. She didn’t think of how she had been so close she could see his body quiver with the breathing. 

She didn’t think about it at all.

vimeo

The trailer for the documentary that I am currently working on.