jeneru

TW: Slight language. You were the song stuck in my head Every song that I ever loved Playing again and again and again You hated this. You hated feeling this. Ears still hidden within your headphones, with Sam Smith reminding you about the hardships of unrequited love, you pushed the glass door with a frustrated huff. It's already the middle of the week, and for the longest time you could recall, you had never been enthusiastic about the weekend, or skipping work - which you almost opted for today - - until recently. The moment you've reached your cube, Hanji was already sitting on your chair, wearing a grin that made you question how on ear

It was your face that he first saw when he opened his eyes. The way your eyes softened and your lips curved into a smile as relief washed away your worried expression, had somehow alleviated the remorse he felt from the last expedition. When he noticed your distress as your gaze linger at the stump where his right arm had been while you change his bandages, he assured you that it was just a small price he had paid -     for the soldiers he had led into the titans’ mouths,     for the innocent lives that perished in his search for the truth,     for seeing your face again. And when he felt both of your hands wrap protectively around

You are nervous. No. It’s more like, you are thrilled. You place the bills on the counter, making sure to avoid eye contact with the cashier, as she place the clothes you purchased inside the paper bag. "Is there anything else that you’d like to add ma’am?" The cashier asked as she hand you the paper bag along with your change. "No thanks." You politely replied, almost snatching the items from her as you turn your heels to head to the nearby fitting room. After putting on the clothes you’ve bought, you took another turn in front of the mirror, making sure that the attire you’ve picked is convincing enough.

How dare you... walking into my thoughts... and starting conversations... . . . ...in my head. . . . Perhaps I should tell you that. . . . But  n o t   today.  

TW: slight language You wonder why this had suddenly been so difficult. You have been staring at the digits flashed on your screen for a while now, the cold damp cloth slipping steadily from the side of your forehead as your brows furrow, pondering on your excuse for not showing up for today's practice. You wait until the screen faded into your reflection and pressed the home button gingerly. The screen glowed to life, notifications stacked one after another, blocking the irked face that was your wallpaper. 5 missed calls 10 messages 3 social account notifications. You hold back a chuckle, noting how all of them came from just a single

Track 1:Summer Break You lay on your couch sipping your ice cold blue lemonade, Adventure Time currently on the TV as you enjoy your first morning of freedom. "Freedom." You softly spoke to yourself, letting it sink in your thoughts. Yes. There’s no other word to describe it. Freedom from buzzkill professors. Freedom from bugging classmates. Freedom from late night homeworks and a series of what seemed like never ending exams. You are currently choosing on whether to spend it by visiting your relatives abroad or by staying and doing a summer job. Your father, who heads one of the largest research institute in the country, has actuall

TW: unintended self harm  I never knew daylight could be so violent His head is throbbing, eyes struggling from the blur that resulted from an earlier concussion. He pushes some stray strands off, now clumped and sticky, from which, he no longer cares to know. Not far from his left, the door shakes in frustration, an anguished cry echoing from the other side, followed by a loud thud - - and another... and another. He bites his lip, eyes squeezing shut so hard his lids now hurt as shaky hands block the awful sound. In an attempt to save what was left of his nerves he t

S t a y  w i t h  m e . Amidst the somnolent haze he manages to take hold of your hand, wary fingers slowly curling around your own. You hold him tighter, confirming your presence, lest he might slip further. F u r t h e r   a  w  a  y    f r o m  y o u . A contented exhale. A sigh of relief. And you watch him finally retreat, finding comfort in his light snores cutting through the deafening silence of the room. He will do it again. And again. Until he can do it   n o  m o r e. And you will hold on to him. No matter what it takes. Even if he lets go. Y o u  w i l l  n o t . Still.

He'll purposely avoid your gaze, albeit noting that small smile forming on your lips as he skims the hologram display - - the digits that mattered the most and that shade that is your   h u e. You continue to stare from your side, purposely distracting him, the tip of your forefinger alternatively drawing circles and tapping the back of his free hand until he's finally done. The wall of data flickers and eventually fades, his eyes meeting yours in its wake. "Still clear?" You rather teased, despite knowing how it doesn't amuse him. " All clear." And your then restless finger now finds itself stuck, along with the rest - helplessly inter

Monotony For you, this state is more like a sickness. - yet incurable. You have grown tired of dealing with this shit with each passing day. Home. School. Home. The truth is you really don't mind this mundane existence. You really don't mind at all. Even if it cease. Your phone vibrates against your pocket, urging you to check your messages - most of which you neglect to read, save a few. Brows furrow at the familiar sender, along with a familiar message you no longer bother to understand at all.   "I'm sorry [y/n], but I won't be returning until next week. Work's been really hectic. Have already wired your allowance. Take care