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dbsk_flashficTitle: Good Morning, Silhouette
Author:![[profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
glass_dress
Word Count: 288
Concrit: Criticism makes me cry...be gentle!
Pairing: YunJae
Summary: And he forgets that he only needs one cup now.
Author's Note: My first flashfic here! Nice to meet everyone. :D One thing!...I've no idea on how to fix my font! :[
Blue bath robe, black slippers; Jae enjoys wearing his fluffy slip-ons with Yunho’s robe. He pulls up the collar of it and nestles in the scent that’s fading with the days but ever lingers in his mind, in his heart.
In this empty house, doused in sunlight but with no one to shine on, one can hear the soft footsteps coming down those carpeted stairs; careful, counted footsteps. The sleep is far from his eyes now, last night’s dream a cast away memory and the smile that slept on his face faltered with every conquered step he took until he reached the kitchen.
“Yunho….?” Careful, counted hope as he holds his breath and holds it dearly before he makes his way around the corner.
Every morning there’s a grunt of acknowledgment, the smell of brewed coffee, and the rustle of newspaper. When Jae walks in, every morning, he sways into place behind his beloved, kisses the nape of his neck and whispers a smiling, “Good morning.”
Today, there are no sounds, no one to kiss and wraps longing arms about. And Jae remembers with a shuddering intake of breath that Yunho is dead and all that remains in this kitchen are the coffee mug and an untouched newspaper dated seven months and twenty days ago.
Jae drags his feet – careless, uncounted steps – to the cupboard and pulls out a mug, any mug, with his stumbling, blind hand. He shuffles to the counter and sets the mug before him, under his chin, where a tear has been slipping past his eye and cheek, down the side of his lip and falls into the pit of the cup.
“Good morning…”
He frowns and drinks his teardrop.
Author:
glass_dressWord Count: 288
Concrit: Criticism makes me cry...be gentle!
Pairing: YunJae
Summary: And he forgets that he only needs one cup now.
Author's Note: My first flashfic here! Nice to meet everyone. :D One thing!...I've no idea on how to fix my font! :[
Blue bath robe, black slippers; Jae enjoys wearing his fluffy slip-ons with Yunho’s robe. He pulls up the collar of it and nestles in the scent that’s fading with the days but ever lingers in his mind, in his heart.
In this empty house, doused in sunlight but with no one to shine on, one can hear the soft footsteps coming down those carpeted stairs; careful, counted footsteps. The sleep is far from his eyes now, last night’s dream a cast away memory and the smile that slept on his face faltered with every conquered step he took until he reached the kitchen.
“Yunho….?” Careful, counted hope as he holds his breath and holds it dearly before he makes his way around the corner.
Every morning there’s a grunt of acknowledgment, the smell of brewed coffee, and the rustle of newspaper. When Jae walks in, every morning, he sways into place behind his beloved, kisses the nape of his neck and whispers a smiling, “Good morning.”
Today, there are no sounds, no one to kiss and wraps longing arms about. And Jae remembers with a shuddering intake of breath that Yunho is dead and all that remains in this kitchen are the coffee mug and an untouched newspaper dated seven months and twenty days ago.
Jae drags his feet – careless, uncounted steps – to the cupboard and pulls out a mug, any mug, with his stumbling, blind hand. He shuffles to the counter and sets the mug before him, under his chin, where a tear has been slipping past his eye and cheek, down the side of his lip and falls into the pit of the cup.
“Good morning…”
He frowns and drinks his teardrop.
no subject
Date: 2008-06-16 11:39 pm (UTC)*runs off to cry forever