⟪ — xiangjia & islander ⟜ choi seunghyun & hwang tiffany. ⟫

@xiangjia It was wrong. He'd never claimed that it wasn't. The recent developments in his life for the past few months were exquisite to say the least. At first he promised himself that he'd simply reap the benefits of his new 'inner circle' without becoming too involved. But the old maxim that he who has begun has the deed half done was all too true. At an increasing pace, it was becoming harder and harder to hide the evidence of his usual late night extravaganzas, and frankly, he was starting to put less and less into even making an effort to do so. At first, his conscience had bugged him whenever he ignored her calls or told a lie, but at some certain point, it all became part of a regular routine that the both of them had grown acquainted with, with one side more satisfied than the other.

In his own defense, he'd be home comparatively early tonight. It was two or so hours after midnight and were it not for the periodic notifications he received on his phone, alerting him that there indeed was another world, another obligation, another woman whom he had vowed to love waiting for him, his estimated time of arrival would have been significantly later. Actually, not even that statement was completely accurate anymore. Quite often lately, he’d flat out ignore her concerns and inquiries about his whereabouts and reasons for absence. In their entire relationship, they’d always granted each other trust and patience, but it didn’t take a genius to realize that it was only natural that even hers would run out very soon; after all, she was always quick to catch onto things. Soon he expected greater confrontations and although he was confident in his abilities to appease her anxieties when worst got to worst, he’d have to moderate himself. Precisely the reason that he was getting himself home at a more acceptable hour.

Punching in the combination to their door, he entered the premises of the home slowly and quietly. Was she still up? Was she waiting for him? He had a hard time deciding which version of her he’d rather deal with. The softer, worried type always incited overwhelming guilt in him, much to his distaste. He didn’t need someone else to help him understand that what he was doing was wrong. He knew that fact well enough on his own; he simply proceeded regardless. The stressed, more confrontational version of her incited frustration and sometimes even anger in him. But with whatever means it took, whether it be force or flattery, he simply wanted to keep her from doing one thing – to try to find out more about what exactly was going on. But then again, the faint scent of intoxicating alcohol on his breath, the haze in his dark eyes, and the traces of other women’s perfume on his being didn’t make it too hard to figure out the general gists of the what occurred during his absences. There would be no more excuses for business trips or college reunions anymore. But he didn’t want her prying about his business.

Slipping off his shoes, he let out as audible sigh as he stepped into the house, letting his slightly hazy vision adjust to the darkness. Secretly he hoped she was asleep by now and the end of his night would be nothing harder than to slip into bed next to her. He knew it was selfish, how easily he wanted to keep her at his side while at the same time pursuing everything else he wanted for himself. Perhaps he knew it - and would abuse it - that she loved him too much. As for his own convictions, not even he was sure anymore. Love? Did loved ones treat each other in the way he was treating her? And yet why did he refuse to stop himself?

@islander “The one time that I wanted to actually believe in you…”

Tiffany found herself whispering pessimistically, while doing her best in holding back the tears that were threatening to fall. She promised herself that she wouldn’t cry anymore… She promised herself that she would finally confront him weeks ago about his behavior – but… that never happened. Resentment, denial, sadness, and love – she had felt it all for him at this very moment.

But where was the criminal himself?

He was late. Again. She couldn’t even begin to count how many weeks he’s been putting up this act, or maybe even months – but all she knew was that he broke his promise, again. Despite everything the both of them have been through, or the years they put into their relationship – when their wedding rings had wrapped around both of their fingers, and they muttered the loving words of, “I do.” -- Why did he pick that as the turning point to start acting up? It started with a few lies here and there, some she could detect – while others had eventually proven how wrong he was weeks later. He was getting slick and brilliant at it, until she caught on and learned the ropes of how this, “I’ll see you soon honey,” bull would go. For someone that was always going on and on about justice, why was he treating her this way? What had she done to deserve this type of treatment anyway? She was a hard, working and devoted woman. She helped paid the bills, she helped made sure he had a hot meal and bath ready for him whenever he came home… Hell, even the days where she felt unpleasant, she would smile for him – and make sure he was alright. But he was pushing it all away… and more importantly, he was pushing her away.

He was driving her insane...

Making her insecure…

All of these experiences that he promised he would never put her through; she was juggling with them all one by one. Alone. And that was the worse thing he could have done to her. “I’ll never leave you alone, I’m here for you.” But those words had sounded like a bunch of bull right now. It was as if everything he’s been saying to her was part of some master plan to keep her from running away from him. Because as much as she despised the way he was treating her, she knew deep inside of her heart… she would never leave this man. She loved him. She had loved him so much that it was starting to hurt. “I can save this marriage, I can save us.” She had told herself the moment she noticed the way he was changing, leisurely. And it wasn’t for the better.

With her fingertips gripping the wine glass that was keeping her stable, she used her free hand to push back her black, loose locks – gazing over at the mirror that had reflected her disheveled form. The black, silky robe had clung to her body rather loosely – revealing the gown she had underneath. A change she had decided to make today – in hopes that he would love it, or even notice it. A new hairstyle had felt like a fresher start, or something entertaining to try at the moment. But she came home to yet another /empty/ household. There was another note, and another gift that he left in hopes of making everything better. And when her smile would eventually fade, and the text messages she would send to him – and she’d never get a response back until hours later, would let her know that tonight, would be another night she’ll spend alone. The only difference was the fact that she popped open one of their wine bottles, not even caring about how messy the countertops in the kitchen might have appeared to be. The only thing she could wrap her mind around was 1 - how he lied to her, 2 - the woman's number she found in his coat pocket, and 3 - how miserable she must have looked in front of her parents, and her friends. As he was slowly changing himself, she notice that she was starting to lose the sincerity that had always came from her heart... She was becoming rather dull these days, and she didn't like it. It wasn't her. It wasn't the Fany that everyone knew.

"Where are you?"