One of Junhyung's favorite things was to listen to Kim Hyuna ramble on about her life, about her worries.... about anything as long as she could keep it going, to keep the listener distracted. She was just like therapy; she was here for her friends in any way they needed and Junhyung had seen every part of that. Right how he was still deciding what exactly he needed but it would come to him, or come out of him in whatever way necessary. Junhyung let out a breath and reached over to take her hand, looking at how small it was beneath his bigger one, how much it held beneath it and the weight of everything thrust onto her. Yeah, he felt guilty. He felt bad for taking his own path and leaving the weight of Cube on her shoulders. As much as he had faith in the other groups, Hyuna was the biggest star in that galaxy. For him, though, the move was necessary. He was dying out in Cube and being a traditional idol, as such, was suffocating him. He had to get out. But he wanted Hyuna to always feel assured she had him to rely on if she needed it - for music making, for lyric writing, for a new company, for talking and drinking and bullshit.
"Pancakes," he said, resting his hand on the cool concrete with hers atop - save her from the rough, cold support beam. "I don't think pancakes get enough love." Junhyung looked out across the Han river at the lights and the way they flowed imperfectly across the water. He sort of felt like them - their path intended on a particular place but life was ever-moving and undeniable, so it scattered his intentions everywhere. He let out a big sigh. "What are we doing, Hyuna?"
The question was simple yet messy. The boy sent a hand through his hair and then down his neck, rubbing at the tight muscles. He wasn't playing anymore. Things were messy but things were always messy in his life unless it was work. No wonder he had been spending so much time at the studio lately. It was the only place he could truly let out his feelings properly - unless of course you're counting Hyuna's therapy nights. He felt bad in a way - was he dumping more heaviness onto her? Were his worries over trivial and non-trivial the type of thing that contributed to her stress? Or was it good for her to hear and help and heal? Honestly he never asked because he was scared about the answer. So instead he selfishly moved forward in a way that was delicate and careful, but yet trampling over the growing greenery of steadiness.
"Would it be strange to say I look for you in others?" The confession came out greeted by his swift motion downward, finding solace in her lap, immediately pressing his ear against her thigh and the top of his head between them. Resting, rested. "It's like our friendship is too good. It's too high of a bar for anyone to reach. You're too dynamic, too understanding, too tough and too loving. You're this beacon of hope of what everyone can become - strong, resilient, trusting, brave. And yet in your own way it's humble and vulnerable. You make me feel like the weight of my bullshit will crush you but it doesn't, you never tell me to stop, you're always willing to listen and help. So I subconsciously look for that in other people. It's why, not entirely so, but it's why I can't find that connection. I'm trying.... I've tried, maybe, gotten a little carried away," he ended with a laugh, "but I just find myself seeking out your approval. Is she good? Is she not good? Are you going to stay, are you not going to stay?"
no subject
"Pancakes," he said, resting his hand on the cool concrete with hers atop - save her from the rough, cold support beam. "I don't think pancakes get enough love." Junhyung looked out across the Han river at the lights and the way they flowed imperfectly across the water. He sort of felt like them - their path intended on a particular place but life was ever-moving and undeniable, so it scattered his intentions everywhere. He let out a big sigh. "What are we doing, Hyuna?"
The question was simple yet messy. The boy sent a hand through his hair and then down his neck, rubbing at the tight muscles. He wasn't playing anymore. Things were messy but things were always messy in his life unless it was work. No wonder he had been spending so much time at the studio lately. It was the only place he could truly let out his feelings properly - unless of course you're counting Hyuna's therapy nights. He felt bad in a way - was he dumping more heaviness onto her? Were his worries over trivial and non-trivial the type of thing that contributed to her stress? Or was it good for her to hear and help and heal? Honestly he never asked because he was scared about the answer. So instead he selfishly moved forward in a way that was delicate and careful, but yet trampling over the growing greenery of steadiness.
"Would it be strange to say I look for you in others?" The confession came out greeted by his swift motion downward, finding solace in her lap, immediately pressing his ear against her thigh and the top of his head between them. Resting, rested. "It's like our friendship is too good. It's too high of a bar for anyone to reach. You're too dynamic, too understanding, too tough and too loving. You're this beacon of hope of what everyone can become - strong, resilient, trusting, brave. And yet in your own way it's humble and vulnerable. You make me feel like the weight of my bullshit will crush you but it doesn't, you never tell me to stop, you're always willing to listen and help. So I subconsciously look for that in other people. It's why, not entirely so, but it's why I can't find that connection. I'm trying.... I've tried, maybe, gotten a little carried away," he ended with a laugh, "but I just find myself seeking out your approval. Is she good? Is she not good? Are you going to stay, are you not going to stay?"