heonynchans | (no subject)

Jisun doesn’t remember when her wings faded.

They say wings to a sylph is like a second heart to a human, an indication of everything from their energy level to their emotional mood. Jisun is no stranger to the sylphes who return to their cloud home with sad, ashen wings that no longer glimmer in the sunlight and flutter in the winds. The fairies who sold their soul for a human who broke their heart. The fickle creatures who only take, yet never give. Jisun despises the whole lot of them.

But then again, there was always a thin line between love and hate.

Jisun remembers one human, a beautiful girl who spent more time gazing up at the sky than anything on the ground. Jisun remembers the hot summer days the girl spent lying on the wild green grass patches near Jisun’s cloud, skin tinting red from the sun’s harsh rays. Jisun would always debate giving her cover from the sun, deeming humans cruel enough to deserve any harm that comes to them. She’d relent when the girl starts to fan herself from the heat, pulling out her worn, old sketchbook to draw whatever it is she had in mind. Jisun’s cloud seemed to have had a mind of its own, staying rooted against the wind to block the sun from harassing the poor human girl. Her watercolour paints dance across the page in swift, bold strokes and Jisun always had to resist the urge to peek at the drawing. She’s heard tales of the human mind and the vivid depictions of beautiful landscapes they’d conjure. Jisun had always dreamt of seeing them in person, but that would require her to give up her cloud and be bound to Earth until her lover let her go home.

And really, Jisun is too proud to let her wings lose its glitter.

About three years after the girl first started to paint, she had completely disappeared. Jisun remembers staring at the vacant spot, not realizing how much of her time was spent staring at the girl who resembled summer rain. The autumn months would roll around too early for Jisun’s taste, dashing away her hopes that a beautiful smile would greet her mornings again. That fall was spent in dark shades of blue, deep navy strokes that drowned Jisun under. She fell that fall, her cloud too heavy with an emotion she couldn’t quite place as she fell to Earth in small, short droplets. Jisun remembers watching as the world blurred and wondered if this was what the broken sylphs felt when they had to return to their clouds. Her wings no longer glimmered in the sunlight, too withered to perk up like before and all she can think is to curse that beautiful girl. The girl who spent summer days colouring the hills with vibrant green now coloured Jisun’s world in brown shades, and she probably never even knew.

Jisun landed in a burgundy forest, streaks of red and orange reminding her of just how dull her brown and black wings were. She hated love, hated how it snuck up to her without her even noticing, only to leave a vacuum when she left. Droplets of her tears from above dampened the world into deep gray, an ugly shade Jisun never wished to be the cause of. Storms were the result of anger, and anger brought no one any good. But here she was, crying and cursing the world. She thought of staring at the summer girl and her bright smile that could light the world, thought of listening to her faint humming on days Jisun could fly a little lower to watch her paint, thought of being able to just learn of her name. Jisun curled into a ball, hugging her knees to her chest as she felt the tears slowly pour out amidst the anger. The forest ground is wet and sticky, a cold slime that stuck to Jisun’s skin with a ferocious tenacity, no longer the soft blanket of her cloud and it finally settles in.

She sold her soul to a human.

And that human probably doesn’t even know she existed.

Jiwon feels her chest tighten with every heavy breath she took. The fall shower outside is beautiful, a soft shade of gray that drenched everything in sight. The hospital lights are harsh and unforgiving in her eyes, too bright for her closing eyes. She can hear the faint sound of doctors rushing and crying in the background, faintly registering that she’s dying.

“Megan, you can’t go!” Hayoung cries, broken and desperate and Jiwon doesn’t even register it. She feels oddly light, as if all the years she spent dreaming and painting the skies were finally settling in, carrying Jiwon to a sky above the one she always knew. Her parents always teased her she was more in love with the clouds than with other people. There’s an urban legend Hayoung used to tell her, about cloud fairies who watched over people when they were alive. According to Hayoung, some even live amongst the human world, binding their souls to the humans they love and only returning once the human breaks the sylphs’ heart. Jiwon wonders how many of the fairies ever saw her, giving it all for the fairies in hopes of healing the wounds on the fairy’s hearts because of her fellow human’s rash actions. Hayoung tells her fairies love to see paintings from a ground view, something they can never see. They especially loved sunny days, Hayoung says. Jiwon doesn’t know why she believes her.

So when Jiwon closes her eyes for the last time, the sound of raindrops outside resembling crying, she can’t help but think about the cloud fairies again, wondering which one is broken today. The storm has been raging for three days, according to what Jiwon last heard. A scar that runs deep, she thinks, and Jiwon can only wish she’ll find that fairy in her next life. This time, she won’t let the fairy cry. Hayoung told her love is about giving someone your whole existence.

And Jiwon was nothing but in love with the sky.

“At first place, with the most votes and becoming the center of Idol School’s first graduating class is…”

Jisun’s heart is going to beat out of its cage. She’s praying, knuckles turning white from clutching too hard. She risks a peek at the podium, eyes fluttering over to Jiwon who’s just as nervous. They’ve been persisting through the show together for so long and all Jisun can think of seeing Jiwon on that podium is how she must get there too. For her best friend.

(She ignores the squeeze in her heart that wishes for a little more, but it’s like what Saerom always tells her, you can’t take leaps without baby steps.)

“...Roh Jisun! Congratulations!”

The crowd is deafening. The tears on her cheeks are all too real and there’s so many emotions. She feels the world drowning her in screams and it’s so overwhelming and—

(Her feet move before she does, although the hand pulling her to the podium is also blissful. She registers it as Gyuri’s, who still hasn’t made it and she feels so terrible but it’s okay for now. She can’t expect all of her best friends to make it, can she?)

—Jiwon is smiling at her. Jisun feels like flying. Like a cloud that’s soaring through the sky and finally she can smile. Finally she can smile because Jiwon is smiling too, crying and smiling as she helps Jisun to her spot and Jisun feels elated. Like a million butterflies has been released. She can feel her wings spread out as she steps into the spotlight of her dreams, boosted by the people she loves and who loves her. At the center of it all is Park Jiwon, who’s beaming at her like she’s the brightest star in the sky and Jisun can’t help but feel her face brighten up.

Jiwon would have nothing but Jisun’s entire existence.