Work Text:
Happy halloween, Kim dokja
“They say the dead come back to life on a day called halloween, Kim dokja.”
“But I guess you won’t be one of them.”
He said softly as he leaned against a painting of Kim dokja, Kim dokja was known as the ugly king, but in his eyes,
He looked like the kind of dream,
That wouldn’t leave you even after the Sun shined.
His eyes were soft, like dusk before the stars appear — the quiet hour before the world exhales.
A nose and a chin were resolute, the kind that wouldn’t tremble, even if his heart did.
His smile.. It could’ve lid up a dark, and empty room, with just one smile of his.
Kim dokja was beautiful, but not in many eyes.
“You’re not a ghost of halloween,
And you aren’t alone either.”
“So, come back just like you always do,”
“Kim dokja.”