Mapping things out; SHINee drabbles; PG-13; 1670 words

Apr 30, 2011 18:29

Title: Mapping things out

Rating: PG-13

Pairing/Focus: Several

Summary: And we play it slow and steady, first with fingerprints on shoulders and slow lingering touches. A different tone in our voices, the way you say my name, the letters dragging on, the way no one else can do it.

A few SHINee drabbles I regurgitated out while listening to songs from Seabear, the Ghost that carried us away album.

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Nonchalance, 2min, PG, 233 word drabble (Taemin’s POV)

I thought I saw your face in a map, your eyes searching mine but I was wrong, because when I looked again, you’re gone. I find myself watching to see if you’re there at every street corner, but somewhere in my mind I know you won’t be there. And I don’t really hurt when I find a stranger instead of you perched on your favorite spot, I don’t quite show accusation in my eyes when it meets his, but I’m filled with this emptiness (I tell myself it’s nonchalance) that spreads across for the next few days. Then I’m fine again, and I’ll make my way along, not shuffling, not dragging my feet, but walking at a monotonous pace that’s neither fast or slow, till I’m reminded again of your existence.
But this time when I think I see you, I manage to convince myself it’s my imagination, that I’m hallucinating. I really think it’s you but I still walk on by, fingers taut against the sides of my thighs. But when you clutch my hand, pulling me back, I know it’s you but I still don’t turn because… What if it isn’t?

Then you tell me that you’re never going away. You tell me that this time, you’re staying.

And the tears trickle slowly down my cheeks, salty and bittersweet.

Because you know that despite my nonchalance, I had never stopped hoping.

-

These tiny things, Jongkey, PG, 300 word drabble (Jonghyun’s POV)

I miss you, even when you’re around. Our fingers graze each other, my breath caught in my throat for less than a second and you’re gone, drifting away like a slight summer breeze, the kind I think I can almost taste on the tip of my tongue. And in a chaotic crowd our eyes shift, pass each other and you continue to stare though I look away quickly, fixing my gaze on anything but you, anything but those depths that will reveal me.

It’s been a year since I first saw you at the party, hand grasping a beer bottle, face flushed and shirt crumpled. You give me a polite smile, but I return it with a smile that means more. So much more.

I’ll let you make the starting move, I’ll wait for you to give me a sign that it’s anything but what normal people would do, though we’re stretching the boundaries, etched over our knuckles. And we play it slow and steady, first with fingerprints on shoulders and slow lingering touches. A different tone in our voices, the way you say my name, the letters dragging on, the way no one else can do it.

I love the way you say my name, so don’t ever stop, from the first moment we learn how to call each other till we learn how to bid farewell. And you whisper my name unhurriedly, like you’re testing it, like you’d like to know if it works, if I respond to it.

I do, and things just slowly fall into place after that.

And we start small, with these tiny things people like to rush by, to overlook, and to skip.

But we won’t. We’ll take our time, to explore each other, bit by bit.

So we don’t miss a thing.

-

Library, Minkey, PG-13, 398 word drabble (Key’s POV)

That day I fell down the stairs, you almost pass me by but something propelled you to stop in your tracks and turn back. And you help me up, not a word, not a sound, not a sigh. Nothing. It was as unexpected as the day you turned back in the hallway to grin at me, or at least I think you did. We’ve known each other for so long, since the day you made me scrape my knee on the pavement, the day you tugged my hair till the roots were almost yanked out taunting me with a nickname too childish for me to utter. It was so long ago, ten, fifteen years. You made me feel helpless and so vulnerable against the downfalls I came across since then. I managed to get across with the lie that I could be strong and firm, that I could stand up for myself though you manage to convince me otherwise, again and again.

It’s been a long time since. You left and I’ve grown, I’ve forgotten. (Another lie.) I’m living like a dream. Setbacks pushed to the back of my head, little compliments replaying before my eyes. I choose to turn my life into something more intelligent, something more straightforward and free of the pain of rejection. I concentrate on what’s important to me, what makes me feel like I’ve done a little something I can be proud of.

I can’t forget you.

And that’s not the only thing, it’s not the weirdest thing. I’ve long forgotten the things you’ve done, that you managed to completely boggle my brain and play with my feelings, tapping me on the shoulder before running away. It didn’t matter anymore.

I just can’t forget you.

Books piled up in the library, a boundary separating me from the world. I pay no attention to my surroundings, the chatter of people a dim buzzing in the background. Book after book, the wall disintegrating before my eyes and I don’t even sense a thing. And suddenly you’re right beside me and you don’t seem to notice, your eyes narrowed, from word to word, paragraph to paragraph on the yellowed pages of a book someone spilled coffee onto. I probably shouldn’t have stared, shouldn’t have gaped, but it was involuntary. It takes one look, a single sorry, a smile, a five-minute conversation and the pressing of lips together urgently and quickly, my back hard against the metal rim of a bookshelf, to change everything.

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Human, Jongkey, PG-13, 339 word drabble (Key’s POV)

Human skin can be so hard to live in. Sometimes I feel as if I’m made for something more, like I’m not meant to be constrained by the tangibility of being human, of being alive or having the capability of ever being dead. I feel as if I’m meant to just float about the in the wild, weaving about the greenery, listening to the wind. I would give anything to find a way to go far, far away, away from the prying eyes of people that want to know too much, of people that ask too many questions that makes them queasier than if makes me awkward.

It’s difficult to be human, with the jealousy constantly coursing through our veins, with the impulsivity of wanting things for no reason at all. It’s hard to be human, to be real, and to have a reason behind every action. It’s so hard to be human, especially around you.

Because I’m much too human around you, a calumny of a moving being, with the way I just want to press close into you, to see if my body fits into your like I think it does. I really think it should. I’m much too human with the way I just want you as something I get to keep, that I get to bring home. Like a favourite stationary I won’t let anyone use or anyone see, because if they do, they might want to use it. Only you’re much more than a lucky pencil or a treasured eraser. You’re so much more than a blanket generalization. And that’s the problem.

I’m much too greedy, much too careless, much too solid and substantial around you. It’s so hard to be human, when I’m around you.

But it’s okay to be human, because the soaring feeling I get when your arms bumps mine or when you unexpectedly do all the things I hoped you would, it makes being human worthwhile, with all our emotions crashing into a wave of dreams and might-bes that could never be. It’s fine to be as human as possible around you. It’s hard, but it’s okay.

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Do you remember, Ontae, PG, 316 word drabble (Taemin’s POV)

Do you remember what things looked like when you were young? When everything was fresh and clean and untainted. When you felt that if you were to scrape your knee, you wouldn’t bleed, there wouldn’t be a wound, just a patch of sunlight beaming out? As if you were made of star dust, something immortal?

I used to feel that way, and I still do, sometimes. It felt horrible to know that you’d bleed if you fell, that if you lost your life, you won’t have a second try. I was miserable thinking of how my life could no longer be what is was, of taking things lightly, like they didn’t matter, because suddenly, everything mattered, even the little things I didn’t use to really pay attention to, the flurry of butterfly wings in a thunderstorm.

That’s when I meet someone that teaches me that it means something to mean something to someone, that it means something to find that someone means so much to you. That’s when the feeling of being young, the way I looked up at the world and not down returns. I still feel like I’m built of something that can’t be torn down, something stuck to the sky, like a star that will never dim, like I’m made of diamond beneath my skin.

That’s when I’m with you. Everything you do, the way you smile at me, the way your hand just naturally fits over my small palm just makes me feel like things could be the way I was young, the way my worries just slip away into indistinct faded patches no one really cares about.

You make me feel so young and light, liberated, yet so grounded by how your arm firmly holds me close to your chest.

I would feel torn between the land and the sky, but it’s okay, because you’re stuck with me in the middle.

Lyrics from: Various songs by Seabear

!fanfic, pairing: several, rating: pg-13

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