Jiyoung and Naya; Snippet
Apr. 2nd, 2016 02:17 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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betheairIt’s months, maybe years later before their paths cross again. Jiyoung doesn’t know if she’s allowed to say hi anymore. So she stands to the side, staring at her shoes. The cameras are off and she doesn’t have to be Melody anymore, can’t quite maintain the façade as well as she used to. She’s been at this forever but what else can she do? Being an idol’s been her life for so long that maybe Jiyoung doesn’t even exist anymore.
“How have you been?” Naya’s soft voice asks pulling Jiyoung from her thoughts. She looks up, meeting those familiar eyes that seem to listen to what Jiyoung doesn’t say and wonders what Naya knows, what she’s heard, what she hasn’t.
The situation throws Jiyoung back to their relationship, back to the days of quiet comradery and the dark, gnawing feeling that she could never be enough for Naya, not as she was. She isn’t sure she’s changed since then, either, isn’t sure she could if she wanted. The guilt doesn’t crash down on her like she worried it would; she realizes still feels guilty every day that she wasn’t enough for either of them. That it can’t consume her now because it always has.
That should worry her, alarm her, but Jiyoung’s gotten so used to the emptiness, the sadness and loneliness that she bottles it up and puts it on the shelf with the rest of her worries and doubts, emotions and thoughts. It’s getting crowded now but she won’t dwell on it, the way the shelves bow under the weight of so many things put off and to the side.
“I’m tired,” she says at last, wondering if she’s referring to a physical or emotional state of being, knowing Naya will understand her anyway, hating that she can, needing her to all the same.
“I think you’ve been for a long time,” Naya says, running a sympathetic hand down Jiyoung’s arm before leaning in and giving her cheek a gentle kiss. “Take care of yourself, Jiyoungie.” ‘I’m not there to anymore’ goes unspoken.
“How have you been?” Naya’s soft voice asks pulling Jiyoung from her thoughts. She looks up, meeting those familiar eyes that seem to listen to what Jiyoung doesn’t say and wonders what Naya knows, what she’s heard, what she hasn’t.
The situation throws Jiyoung back to their relationship, back to the days of quiet comradery and the dark, gnawing feeling that she could never be enough for Naya, not as she was. She isn’t sure she’s changed since then, either, isn’t sure she could if she wanted. The guilt doesn’t crash down on her like she worried it would; she realizes still feels guilty every day that she wasn’t enough for either of them. That it can’t consume her now because it always has.
That should worry her, alarm her, but Jiyoung’s gotten so used to the emptiness, the sadness and loneliness that she bottles it up and puts it on the shelf with the rest of her worries and doubts, emotions and thoughts. It’s getting crowded now but she won’t dwell on it, the way the shelves bow under the weight of so many things put off and to the side.
“I’m tired,” she says at last, wondering if she’s referring to a physical or emotional state of being, knowing Naya will understand her anyway, hating that she can, needing her to all the same.
“I think you’ve been for a long time,” Naya says, running a sympathetic hand down Jiyoung’s arm before leaning in and giving her cheek a gentle kiss. “Take care of yourself, Jiyoungie.” ‘I’m not there to anymore’ goes unspoken.
