As it almost always happens, she finds herself alone. And, as per usual, she finds herself alone because of a mere habit, a whim. It is much too blatant that the confines of her cozy space is something she most definitely yearns for at any given time of the day, but so it happens that today she would've done anything to get home sooner.
By definition, a birthday is supposed to be a joyous moment in one's life. To her, though she had relished the company and the cacophony it brought for a short while, it equated trouble and fatigue. Thus, after having performed the expected role of the birthday girl, displaying many saccharine smiles and bowing down to her knees so often that her back hurt, the woman found the courage to bail, forsaking the scene of the crime.
Thus, she finds herself alone. But yearning a celebration that is hers and hers only. And for that, she has a cure.
Bottle of vodka and glass in one hand and the side of her lengthy dress in the other, Taeyeon stomps her feet almost spitefully against the stairs leading towards the rooftop. Carelessly, she flings the door open and inhales sharply once the chill hits her. It is supposed to be spring.
The dark coat on her shoulders flies with the breeze and tangles with the brightly colored fabric of her gown. Her hair splays on her face in complete disarray.
The black of her eyes follows a trail north and a sigh escapes her lips once they catch sight of the buzzing stars spilled all over the ink of the night. A genuine curl of her lips. Now that's a proper birthday
The stars are bright- seemingly, for her.
And in a matter of seconds, as she focuses her gaze back on the cold glass in her hands, she catches a glimpse of something that doesn't belong in her picture perfect jubilation. The stars fall off the edge of the world and so does the bottle in her hand. While rushing towards the crouched, shriveling figure, Taeyeon barely registers the fact that no breaking sound comes from the glass hitting the concrete.
A huff.
Apparently, the day might end in a lucky undertone. Not taking into account the man in distress on her rooftop, at night.
Without any regard for her safety or social conduct, pushing past dismay and tremor, she closes the distance and cups the man's face into her cold hands.
"A-are you hurt?" Adrenaline speaks for her with an uneven tone.
It's dark outside, but the stars are bright.
It aids her understand. And understand she does, when she feels the dampness between her fingers.
“Hyuna?”
Yukwon peers up at the woman whose hands feel comparatively much warmer than him. His head keeps slugging forward as if trying to hold off sleep while simultaneously attempting to recognize the face staring back at him. It wouldn’t take before he passed out for a few seconds and when he woke up it was with a heavy gasp. He’s hyperventilating with his eyes shaking and looking around at his surroundings.
“Where am I?” was the first thing he said, his face still trapped between her palms. His eyes widen when he realizes that he doesn’t know the woman in front of him but she has her hands on his face. “N-no. No. No. No.” Every ‘no’ passes his lips like a panicked breath as he tries to pull away from her. His eyes well with tears that slip passed the round of his cheek to the straight edge of his jaw. “Don’t touch me. Don’t touch me. Please.” He’s crying now knowing fairly well that his blood was a blue shimmer on her hands and he’d pray to her beliefs that she didn’t have a cut on her fingers. That’s when he notices that unbroken bottle of alcohol further away and he forces himself up off the ground to reach for it. His legs were barely cooperating when he grabbed it and returned to her. He was quick with the way he opened the bottle and forced her palms open. He pours the liquid on her hands and watches as the blue drains from her hands. His head was starting to spin and his stomach was churning. He slumps to his knees with a place of the bottle down beside him before puking over the edge of the roof.
