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writetomyheart2015-09-20 05:42 pm
jojibear.livejournal.com) wrote in writetomyheart2015-09-20 05:42 pm
Entry tags:
[Team SONIC]
First word from here.
Follow-up to this.
Follow-up to this.
Somehow, Liyin found herself standing outside Jongdae's study, her fingers curled into the skirt of her dress.
She has had time to think — and plenty of it, too. Shut up in the quiet solitude of her private sitting room, she had done nothing but.
The truth of the matter was that she had no idea how their discussion had escalated to the point that it had. All she knew was that something her husband had said had not sat right with her and she had grown angry as a result; next thing she knew, she had demanded that he leave.
What had they even been talking about in the first place? She could not remember now.
But right now, she was calm, the fire within her having long since burnt itself out.
He had said that he would see her at dinner, but she did not want to wait so long — no, she could not wait so long. Not only had she been filled with an incredible sense of guilt at having been so angry at her husband over seemingly nothing, she did not wish for them to meet just before dinner with the air between them so murky, so heavily tainted.
Which is how she found herself standing in front of his study door, nervously assessing whether or not she should knock.
She should, she decided, so after drawing in a deep breath, she unclenched a fist from around her dress skirt and raised it to the door, ready to knock.
She has had time to think — and plenty of it, too. Shut up in the quiet solitude of her private sitting room, she had done nothing but.
The truth of the matter was that she had no idea how their discussion had escalated to the point that it had. All she knew was that something her husband had said had not sat right with her and she had grown angry as a result; next thing she knew, she had demanded that he leave.
What had they even been talking about in the first place? She could not remember now.
But right now, she was calm, the fire within her having long since burnt itself out.
He had said that he would see her at dinner, but she did not want to wait so long — no, she could not wait so long. Not only had she been filled with an incredible sense of guilt at having been so angry at her husband over seemingly nothing, she did not wish for them to meet just before dinner with the air between them so murky, so heavily tainted.
Which is how she found herself standing in front of his study door, nervously assessing whether or not she should knock.
She should, she decided, so after drawing in a deep breath, she unclenched a fist from around her dress skirt and raised it to the door, ready to knock.
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