» orpheus & eurydice

@changgu y. › orpheus。 he barely says two sentences, but she can feel her heart shatter at the anguish in his tone. when she stares straight into his chestnut-colored oculus with her own—luminous with newfound lachryma—she swear she can feel her heartbeat quicken, knees losing power and going week as if she's about to collapse. it's supposed to be one of the happiest moments for her, to finally be able to reunite with her beloved, but all she can muster up the courage to do is stare at him. she feels like she's suffocating. she's not even doing anything—just standing upright in an apron right near the dining area of the suite—but the nostalgic ambiance in the room makes it hard for her to breathe.

in her cognizance, compared to the last time she saw him—back when he had lost her twice—she notices that he looks unhealthy. his cheekbones are more prominent, baby fat long gone, and she wonders if they've been feeding her inamorato properly. his eyes no longer carry the joy of youthfulness, no longer harboring happiness, as they stare blankly at her as if she were another hallucination. once again, her heart aches for him as she feels dolor rush through her veins. and with an unexpected burst of courage, she walks right in front of him before she wraps her arms around his torso tightly, burying her face in his chest as she breaks into sobs to communicate her agony at seeing him so weak, so vulnerable, and so much in sorrow — all because of her.

in between her hiccuped bawls, she manages to wipe her tears away with her sleeves before she brings her arms up from his waist to cup his face in between them ever so gently. as she caresses his cheek with her calloused fingertips, she starts her outburst. "are you eating properly? have you been well? you've grown so thin... my poor husband. i...i made some of your favorites for our reunion. make sure to eat a lot, okay? i want—no, i need—to see you get back that healthy glow. you seem so hollow. i don't like it all. this isn't what i wanted when i asked you to turn around. no, no. you were supposed to be happier, you were supposed to remarry a phenomenal woman and have a loving family with her. how dare you mourn? how dare you make me see you in such a pitiful state?" she stops to take a small breather, biting down on her lower lip before she continues, beauty etched within her very being even as she's sobbing. "do you know how i feel? watching the man i love—the man so almighty, so great, so renowned—dissipate into nothing more than a corpse void of emotion? bastard."

it takes him by breath at first. there's a stutter in the rhythm of his heart, and melancholy takes shape in the steady swell and collapse of his lungs. what feels like paresthesia blooming in the pads of his fingers he knows is actually the overflowing rise of emotions wracking his nerves. like an effervescent drink that flows over, so does all his anguish at once. the door creaking excessively draws him out of his trance for he was so overwhelmed by the figure that stood merely ten feet away from him. all this time apart and yet she still never fails to make him love her once, twice, thrice.

"what are you doing here?" his own words leave him breathless as if even the simplest of actions would drain him completely of energy. no, he realizes what this is. changgu is all too familiar with this–he's so, so used to being the punchline of this cruel joke. a bittersweet smile curves his rosy colored lips; it's another dream again. how could he have expected any different? each time his hopes soar and his chest hammers with anticipation only to be let down by the taunting sound of his own alarm clock reminding him that, no, nahee is forever gone, for all eternity.

"it was nice to see you again," the words are uttered more for himself to soothe the clenching in his chest. if dreams are the closest he can get, he'll take it—any chance, anything. when he closes his eyes he expects to return back to reality with an obnoxious ring blaring right beside him. maybe it really was not meant to be. that morning alarm doesn't sound for him as he had expected. a flurry of emotions take form in him: relief, nostalgia, sorrow, joy, all at once they surround him. it's not a dream—he's ridden with so much anxiousness that the control over his physical movements slips, and suddenly he can't help whatever urges him to draw near her.