neighborhoodmoonchild

✰☽ moonchild ☾✦

fan of good music and good people; BTS, NCT, Stray Kids, Day6 drabbles and stuff i guess

100 posts

7:07 P.m.

7:07 p.m.

It wasn’t like him.

Not one bit.

Nothing about this makes any sense.

You feel it in your bones; deep down in the depths of your soul.

Something isn’t right.

———

That morning had started with a soft peak of light through the window pane and the sweet press of soft lips curling into loving smiles. It was just as any other morning, waking in the arms of the love of your life.

In all your years, you’d only ever dreamed of finding a love like this. The kind of love that hits you like a freight train when you least expect it and you never recover.

It starts with a fire in your veins that never goes out; fast-paced kisses and long, lingering touches. The kind of love that young novelists fantasize about, writing pages and pages of sultry words and passionate rendezvous until their fingers burn.

Over time it’s in the little things; the crinkle of his eyes when he smiles full force at something silly you’d done or said, the brush of his forehead on yours as he leans close, swaying you back and forth to the music floating through the evening air in your tiny apartment. The kind of love that creates a home inside of your heart, full and warm.

When he found you, it was like being pulled to the other half of your heart; the other half of your soul.

He is your soulmate. And you’re his.

It wasn’t unlike him to leave late in the afternoon to get some work in before dinner.

You’d spent the day mulling around, a lazy one due to the heat that crept in early in the morning.

Summer is your favorite season; warm breezes, cute sundresses, flowers in full bloom, watching him push the sleeves of his white t-shirt high and ring it from him to cool off, the peaks of skin you are already privy to being an even more tantalizing delight when it’s during the most mundane of times.

After spending much too much time laying together under the soft confines of your covers, you’d convinced him to help you tend to your garden out back.

Despite having your whole heart stolen by this man, there was a small piece designated to your love of cultivation. Something about growing and caring for something; giving it life, gave you a rush, a lightness within you that made you smile from ear to ear.

Watching the sweat form on his brow, the way his arm comes up to brush it off, smudging a bit of dirt on his cheek, it’s an art form you admire with your whole being.

When his adorable whining becomes too convincing to ignore, he persuades you inside with a promise of a cold drink and a delicious lunch.

You spend the rest of the day laughing, talking, smiling, kissing, holding his hand. Being with him requires your entirety, and it’s something you always provide him and always will.

Draped across his lap, head resting on the arm of the couch, book in your hands, you relish in the soft run of his fingers through your hair as you read aloud to him. If he could, he’d listen to you forever.

You can feel his gaze on you, and when you flick your eyes from the page up at him, you catch the spark that grows in his irises, his face angelic in its glow as he softly smiles down at you as if you’re his whole world.

Because you are.

When you try to get up, taking note of the time and wondering aloud what you should cook for dinner, he catches you in his arms, snuggling you into his lap as soft giggles escape your lips. He holds you close, skin tickling your own, leaning forward to rub his nose against yours.

His breath is warm on your cheeks, the feeling of his arms around you, fingers tracing against the skin of your bare shoulders exposed by your dress, you feel as if you could stay right here forever.

It’s when he says that he loves you, that he’s going to marry you someday, that a piece you hadn’t even known was inside of you had fallen right into place.

It’s followed by a long, sweet kiss that melts you from the tip of your tongue to your toes.

You don’t want to get up and make dinner now, but it needs to be done, and he reminds you that he’s leaving for the studio for an hour or two.

He gathers his things and kisses you goodbye at the front door and you occupy yourself with making a quaint meal for two.

You hadn’t planned on falling asleep on the couch waiting for him to return.

You didn’t plan on waking up on the couch, same clothes from yesterday, dinner still laid out on the table.

You spent the next few minutes scouring the apartment for your lover, no sign of him coming home in sight. His shoes were not placed in their usual spot by the door. His backpack with his equipment still gone. The sheets of your shared bed untouched.

After that, you spend what feels like hours but is really only 15-20 minutes trying to reach his cell.

No answer.

Calls are made: 911, his friends, his parents, your parents, the studio, his manager, the company.

No one has seen him.

Hours later they tell you his car is still parked in the studio lot, the same place he always parks.

They tell you there was no sign of blood, no struggle, nothing missing. His things all right where he left them; bag opened on the floor by his desk chair, equipment strewn about as he always did. His shoes by the door.

Days, weeks are spent searching. The tears that never leave your eyes stain your cheeks as you go over the events again and again and again.

Nothing new comes up.

More days are spent in your apartment. His friends come to check on you, your parents have made camp in the living room. The door to your room remains locked. The dent of your body in the mattress unfixable by this point.

Everything within you is gone. It disappeared with him. The smile he carefully sculpted into your face no longer exists. The warm blush on your cheeks replaced by a hollow paleness.

An empty shell occupies your once lively body.

Eventually your parents return home. His friends no longer visit. The beautiful life you’d created withers away like the plants in your garden.

Months of search comes up empty.

You are only met with dead ends and ‘I don’t knows.’

It’s a cold case. There is a funeral, but no body. The hope you all once clung to nothing but a distant memory.

He wasn’t coming home.

———

It wasn’t like him.

Not one bit.

None of it makes sense.

It still doesn’t; years later.

You feel it in your bones, deep down into the depths of your soul. You have ever since. An ache that has long since replaced the warmth in your heart.

You’ll feel it for the rest of your life.

————————————————————————————————————————

A/N,

I know this isn’t an update for my Cursed!Seokjin story, but one is coming. I want to apologize for the long wait and being MIA, it’s been a stressful and disheartening few months, and I would like to say that I’m doing better and will be more present, but I don’t want to make any empty promises.

Updates will come when they come.

New stories will come when they come.

I appreciate every single person who can put up with me and my mess through all of this. I truly love you all. And I truly love writing, not only for all of you, but for myself.

I have a few exciting things in the works (at least to me) and will be sharing them when I feel like it. I don’t want to put any more added pressure on myself, even if that means possibly disappointing someone. I know how understanding and caring you all are and I’m truly grateful.

Again, I am truly, 100% sorry for the delays.

Thank you all so much for your support💜

-Moonie🌙

7:07 P.m.

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