Of course, knowing me, there has to be angst in this. I cannot live without it. And guys, for those of you are afraid, yes Mi Nyu does make it out in the end. I just can't let her die. She's like, my favourite character—her portrayal is just wonderful. So yes, while people may get injured...not will ever really die, you know?

je t'aime
no matter how breaths you take
you still couldn't breathe

Crash.

A shattered glass vase, priceless, hand-crafted and beautiful when placed on it's podium in the morning light. Shards of broken crystal and glinting glass lay on the floor, winking up at his stunned face. Sharp pain ebbed on his hands, but he could only stare at the floor in wonder and horror.

Then, a shrill scream.

"Hwang Tae Kyung! What did you do to my vase?"

Oh god, his mother was angry.

A little boy, no more than seven, turned around with his eyes wide fearfully. He was rarely spoken to, and never addressed so harshly before by that familiar voice—the voice that he recognized as his mother's. He could hear the furious clapping of her heels, and he remembered hastily that it was the vase that she oh-so-lovingly crooned over whenever she walked past it; it was, after all, given to her by one of her past loves.

And he had destroyed it. (By accident, of course, but why would his mother believe him?)

Hurriedly, he stood up—slipping on the floor slightly—and turned on his heel, running in the other direction. He hid in the nearest closet, the one that was used for maid supplies. He heard his mother swear and knew that she was drunk. He closed his eyes deeply and tried to settle the shaken, rattled feeling inside of him. Tried to keep his hands from sweating and mixing in with the blood that crept down his arm, the result of falling on glass.

He felt the pain. He felt how his chest squeezed uncomfortably, almost like someone was gripping it so hard that it was terrifying to just even try to breathe. His breath came in short, shallow gasps; his eyes wide, for the closet was dark and he was bleeding and he couldn't see a thing. Night blind. Completely dark.

"Hwang Tae Kyung!"

Don't find me, don't find me, don't find me...

He thought he loved his mother, but day by day it was getting harder to force himself to believe that. Slowly, prickles of hot liquid behind his eyes trickled out of the corners, falling to the ground while he sobbed quietly in the corner of the maid's closet. He swore to himself that he would not love, that he would not make himself capable of loving.

Crash.

He had only taken his eyes off her for a second.

She was trying to get him to come with her to some place—some stupid place—and he had run after her, telling her that he didn't want to go. After all, it was dark out and you could barely see the stars. The only thing that let him see her face was the brightly shining lights of Seoul that never turned off. His phone rang—once, twice. He had taken it out of his pocket and checked the caller ID: Mo Hwa Ran.

Then he heard the scream. And he looked up. And he felt his world stop.

"NO!"

He had only gotten a glimpse of her wide, shocked eyes before she was sent to the floor, sprawling. Before he felt his fingers and body and blood become numb, noise of Seoul's busy town turning into white fuzz in his ears. He couldn't process anything. Why? Because Go Mi Nyu was on the dark, gritty pavement of the road, her hair flopping over her face, lying down in a blood of her own blood.

He barely heard what the driver said; rather, it was some girl with him that he had not even noticed. The first moment he was able to move, he rushed to her side. Heart beating thousand miles a minute. No. No. No. No no no no no no no

there's too much blood oh god

[minyuminyuminyuminyu]

"Wake up," his voice, choked with too much emotion, whispered feebly from his lips. He was knelt down beside her, just a moment's away from actually touching her. He heard something shudder and groan, and for a moment, he was scared. Frightened. He felt the world shift at it's hinges.

"Tae...Kyung..."

He had gathered her body in his arms. Cold, red, and pale, that's what she was. He heard people around them—buzzing, noise, too much noise, too much too much too much—dark red liquid seeped out the side, and he felt something in him drop. It felt very much like his heart. He felt as thought it was too hard to try to breathe.

Carefully, he placed his hand on her side, and took in a shuddering breath when he felt the tender skin of a large, gaping wound. Mi Nyu had cried out in pain and he felt than iron fist over his lungs once more.

"Tae...Kyung...tell you...s'mthin'..."

Inexplicably, he felt something hot and sudden prickle behind his eyes

too much too much too much stop it she's bleeding too much

[minyuminyuminyu-]

and he couldn't stop the onslaught.

"Don't talk," he had screamed, nearly yelled in frustration, his emotions pouring out like a broken dam and river. All those feelings that he had locked away and sealed, opened just like that. Just like that. "Don't talk, you idiot you're going to die—oh god why wasn't I paying attention to you—don't go don't go don't go mi nyu don't you dare leave me—"

stop it stop it somebody get her help stop it

[miyuminyuminyuiloveyoudon'tleavememinyu-]

Weakly, she had smiled, the light from her eyes steadily fading. "Love you...so much..."

Behind him, he heard the blaring sounds of sirens. But to him, the world had already ended the moment he looked away and allowed himself to love.

.:.

fin.
12.2.11