Waters of Freedom
Title: Waters of Freedom
Pairing(s): HanChul, slight!KangTeuk
Genre(s): Angst, romance
Length: 2460 words
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Resentment. Anger. Insecurity. Defiance. The four words that describe Heechul’s life in a nutshell. All in Heechul’s POV.
Inspiration(s): I recalled a story I read a long time ago, probably from my English textbook.
```
I loved riding the waves and deftly maneuvering my anorexic excuse for a boat around the sea of rage. It was the only time that I felt in control of my life, free from physical boundaries and free from the chains of reality. I especially loved it when the waters were angry and full of spite because I felt that I could relate to them, because sometimes the suffocating anger I had against the world was just overwhelming. There were days when I felt as if I could go around the globe and punch every single living being in the stomach three times over. But then I paddle away from the shore, and I remember how I actually managed to keep sane all this time. Because out there, out on the sea, I could relieve myself of the resentment of being rejected from the school basketball team, the pity looks I got from people walking on the streets, and underestimation I got from my peers. Out there, I could forget about all the times I heard somebody say “Oh, poor POOR Heechul”.
Clenching my teeth, I dragged the paddle through the viscous waters with a vengeance, arms tensing so much my tendons felt on the verge on snapping, paddle bending backwards so severely they were on the brink of breaking in half. The irate sea shoved me back and forth on my kayak, giving me the hostility that I needed and craved. I fought, I resisted, I battled. I conquered every single wave that came at me. I defeated every stray tide that wanted to make me capsize. I glared at the stormy seas, a defiant glint in my hate-filled eyes. “Bring it on,” I stage-whispered, fury oozing out of my system, converting itself into the exhilarating strength that I never felt anywhere else. A wave, dangerously larger than the ones before, conjured itself up at the horizon as if to taunt me, and I went for the kill without hesitation.
Resentment. Anger. Insecurity. Defiance. The four words that described my life in a nutshell.
Drenched in sweat (or was it just the salt water?), my head turned towards the beach where my parents were waiting. Even from a distance I could tell that they were no less than jumpy. Leeteuk had a cellphone gripped in his trembling hands, ready to call 911 if my upper body disappeared at any time during my offshore excursion. Kangin, on the other hand, looked exponentially less worried but there was a reason he always brought along my “spare kayak” equipped with a first-aid kit; I did not believe his oh it’s just in case I decide to paddle around shit.
It was not like I did not appreciate their concern over my safety-not a bit of it! I just hated the fact that I needed their concern. I hated the fact that they had every reason to fear for my wellbeing. It made me feel guilty, and seriously, that was just goddamn annoying. Sometimes I wished that I was never born so as to save them the anxiety and worry that they felt for me. It was difficult living with myself when conscious of the knowledge that I was the reason why they were so nervous and fretful every single breathing minute of the day. They did not deserve that. They were my parents, my dearest parents, and they deserved a child that would make them proud. Not me. Anything but me, the failure, the weakling, the mistake, the nothing.
That was another reason why I kayaked: it made me feel independent and strong, something I knew that I would never truly be. Not in this life.
I caught a flash of movement from the corner of my eye and I twisted myself around, narrowly dodging a windsurfer who was evidently out of control. His sails were open to its fullest, a bad idea on a stormy day when the wind was strong enough to overturn a whole ship. “Watch it!” I shouted, watching in horror as the young man crashed into the sharp rocks nearby, toppling over into the water and not resurfacing. My nimble arms paddled towards the stray sail, where the boy was coughing and doing his best to keep his nose above the surface. I reached down and pulled him up, roughly dragging him onto the back of my kayak. I waited until he stopped hacking before berating him like a livid schoolteacher. “What the hell do you think you were doing out there?”
The man looked at me with helpless eyes. His lips were blue and quivering.
“Fine, don’t answer me,” I muttered, gathering up his sails and board while still maintaining my balance. “You have to be careful, though. If you had hit your head on those rocks, I would not have been able to help you!”
He nodded, evidently ashamed of himself.
I took the liberty to look at him for a moment, and I registered that he was an athletic looking man around my own age with dark hair to match his eyes. My eyes trailed towards his long legs and I pursed my lips. “Care to hold your stuff?” I deadpanned. “I’ll paddle us back.”
The man nodded with downcast eyes, still wordless as he held his sail and board.
“You’re a quiet one,” I remarked absentmindedly as I moved against the tide. “Can’t you talk?”
He drearily nodded again, looking exactly like one of those cartoon characters with a raincloud over his head.
“Aren’t you going to?” I asked with a thick coat of sarcasm. Seriously, after going through the trouble of pulling him out of the rocks, the least he could do was answer my questions.
The man opened his mouth and then closed it. Uncertainty was written across his face as his Adam’s apple twitched. “I’m Han Geng,” he settled on saying, voice so soft and so gentle, a stark contrast to the waves that I was fighting against. “I’m from China.”
“Pfft,” I scoffed, voice relaxing. “Whatever.”
A wave knocked me sideways and I was plunged into the freezing waters, upside down. The icy temperatures bit into my skin, but I managed to remain calm. ‘Okay, don’t panic,’ I thought to myself, eyes squeezed shut in concentration. ‘You know how to get out of this.’ Just a twist of the back and I was upright again, taking in the first breath I could. I awkwardly looked back at Han Geng, whose skin had turned six sickly shades whiter, mouth open like a codfish. Sighing, I resisted the urge to roll my eyes at the pathetic sight. “It took me by surprise, that’s all. Now hold on.”
Han Geng bit his lower lip but did just as he was told. I turned away and almost had to bite back a growl at his easy submissiveness. He would not have thought twice about disobeying me if he knew what I was. Nobody took somebody like me seriously, at least if they were everyday normal citizens of a thriving society. My arm mechanically started rotating the paddle so that we had forward momentum.
From a distance, I could already see Kangin struggling to keep a hysterical Leeteuk from dialing the ambulance. I could tell that they were yelling about me, and that their voices were becoming increasingly louder and more desperate. It was a normal occurrence in the household, having them turn against each other because of their differing approaches to child nurturing. Leeteuk would always try to make things easier and less frustrating for me, while Kangin believed that I would be normal if I was treated normally; Leeteuk thought Kangin was asking for too much, and Kangin thought his wife was being too easy. It was heartbreaking to see them quarrel like that, shouting out profanities and screaming out insults. They were the sweetest couple back in their younger days, but that beautiful image was ruined when I turned fourteen-when they started to realize that there were some things that they just could not compromise.
“Your parents?” Han Geng inquired timidly.
I gripped my paddle tighter. “Yah. Got a problem?”
The Chinese man blinked in confusion. “No. But they are fighting.”
I made a huge splash with my paddle, almost snapping right then and there. “Don’t you dare talk about them like they are lunatics!”
“I wasn’t,” he defended sincerely. “I-I noticed that they just seem so worried about you, that’s all.”
“Why wouldn’t they be worried about me?” I barked. “They love me. You would be worried about somebody you loved, too, wouldn’t you?”
Han Geng flinched and ducked his head down.
We landed on the shore several uncomfortable silence-filled minutes later where we were bombarded by my overprotective parents. Leeteuk ran up towards me and started fussing over every joint and limb I never knew I had, while an unimpressed Kangin soundlessly helped Han Geng drag his stuff onto the beach. Most people (particularly those who were already older than eighteen) would have been slightly irritated or at least annoyed at having their parents embarrass them in such a degrading manner. They would have attempted lame nonsensical excuses or chewed on their lips or gritted their teeth, all the while flushing increasingly redder in the face from self-consciousness. I did nothing of the sort (because really, how could my dearest parents ever be embarrassing when they were only showing that they cared?) and just sat there in my kayak, unmoving.
“Oh my goodness, dear, are you sure you are alright?” Leeteuk asked for the millionth time, pressing his finger on my forehead to check my temperature.
I was about to snap at him, to tell him to shut the hell up and to keep his hands to himself, but all of the annoyance I felt melted away once I saw how concerned my mother was for me; instead I managed to squeeze out a fond smile for the effeminate man who loved me all too much. “Yah. I’m alright. Just tired.”
“Would you like to go home?” Kangin asked casually.
My thin shoulders shrugged. “I’ll cut my kayaking session short today.” ‘Thanks to Mr. Mute,’ I decided not to add.
He nodded understandingly and exchanged a glance with his wife. “We’ll be back.”
I pressed my lips together. As my parents scurried off, I heard tentative footsteps approaching from behind me.
“A-Aren’t you getting out?” Han Geng asked a bit hesitantly, stopping right in front of me, still in my kayak. “Your parents are going.”
My eyes drooped. “In a bit.”
A perplexed expression appeared on his face as he held out a shaky hand. “Need help?”
My most hated phrase. “I don’t need your help,” I hissed scathingly.
Kangin came into sight, pushing a wheelchair towards the two of us. The confused look on Han Geng’s face molded into one of shock and comprehension as my father gently lifted my thin form onto the blasted apparatus of incarceration. I took one last glance at the boy I saved before Kangin pushed me through the heavy sand, away from the waters of freedom, towards the Toyota and its ensuing captivity.
“Wait!”
My father’s head snapped around, but mine was stubbornly facing forward where my mother was wringing his hands in unease. Han Geng jogged towards us and gulped nervously, and Kangin took it as a sign that he wanted to speak to me alone.
“What do you want?” I gritted out, voice dripping with menace.
He held out his cellphone. “Can I have your number?”
I huffed. “I don’t need your pity.”
“I’m not giving you any,” he replied steadily. “I honestly just want your number.”
I lifted my gaze. “Well, you’re not getting it, creeper!” I riposted before steering myself away from him. After a few rotations, however, my wheels were too deep into the wet sand that I was unable to move forward any longer. I let my hands fall onto my hand in defeat, eyes welling up with angry tears. Another indication of my weakness on land.
“Please…?”
“I was crippled when I was fourteen. Car accident. Happy?”
“No,” he shook his head. “What’s your name?”
“Heechul,” I breathed out, doing my best to keep my voice unwavering. “My name is Heechul.”
Han Geng silently repeated it and held out his cellphone again. “Please, Heechul?”
I looked up through glassy eyes and saw something akin to sincerity in that soft-spoken boy’s eyes. Then I shifted my gaze towards my parents waiting near the all-too-familiar silver car. With a sigh, I snatched the phone and quickly punched in some buttons. “Happy?”
He nodded shyly.
“You know, I might have given you a fake number,” I spat maliciously. “So don’t celebrate too soon.”
Han Geng was surprisingly unfazed, deciding to ignore my retort by pushing my wheelchair towards my parents.
I tried slapping his hands away. “What are you doing?! I told you that I didn’t need your help!”
He disregarded my words and dodged my feeble blows, a shadow of a smile painting his lips as he wheeled me towards my bemused parents.
```
“You idiot!” I screeched as the lean figure balancing on his kayak once again bumped (more like crashed) into a stray rock. “Paddle, dammit!”
“Right or left?”
I rolled my eyes. “What do you think, stupid?!”
“Left?”
“NO!”
“Right?”
My expression all but screamed unimpressed. “Han Geng, how are you EVER going to learn how to ride the waves if you can’t even steer properly?!”
His eyes were tired and pleading. “Give me a break!” the Chinese man whined. “It’s my second day, alright?”
I sighed sharply. “Yah, well, I don’t want my boyfriend to be a water-crippled bastard!”
“Who are you calling crippled?!” he snarled exasperatedly, maladroitly navigating the hollow wood into another rock. “You’re the one in the goddamn wheelchair!”
I laughed, eyes sparkling with mischief as I splashed icy water into my boyfriend’s face. “I love you, too, Geng!” I joked merrily while he spluttered in indignation.
That was where I belonged, where my physical inability did not matter, where I was finally the same as everybody else. It no longer mattered that I was rejected from the school basketball team since I realized that it was their loss they did not appreciate my athletic talent. The pity looks I got from people walking on the streets did not bother me anymore either; they were all just closed-minded bastards who thought they had it better. Even the underestimation I got from my peers went unnoticed: having Han Geng’s eternal respect was enough.
Out there on the waters of freedom, I was Heechul The Invincible.
Resentment. Anger. Insecurity. Defiance. The four words that ceased to hurt me any longer.
Pairing(s): HanChul, slight!KangTeuk
Genre(s): Angst, romance
Length: 2460 words
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Resentment. Anger. Insecurity. Defiance. The four words that describe Heechul’s life in a nutshell. All in Heechul’s POV.
Inspiration(s): I recalled a story I read a long time ago, probably from my English textbook.
```
I loved riding the waves and deftly maneuvering my anorexic excuse for a boat around the sea of rage. It was the only time that I felt in control of my life, free from physical boundaries and free from the chains of reality. I especially loved it when the waters were angry and full of spite because I felt that I could relate to them, because sometimes the suffocating anger I had against the world was just overwhelming. There were days when I felt as if I could go around the globe and punch every single living being in the stomach three times over. But then I paddle away from the shore, and I remember how I actually managed to keep sane all this time. Because out there, out on the sea, I could relieve myself of the resentment of being rejected from the school basketball team, the pity looks I got from people walking on the streets, and underestimation I got from my peers. Out there, I could forget about all the times I heard somebody say “Oh, poor POOR Heechul”.
Clenching my teeth, I dragged the paddle through the viscous waters with a vengeance, arms tensing so much my tendons felt on the verge on snapping, paddle bending backwards so severely they were on the brink of breaking in half. The irate sea shoved me back and forth on my kayak, giving me the hostility that I needed and craved. I fought, I resisted, I battled. I conquered every single wave that came at me. I defeated every stray tide that wanted to make me capsize. I glared at the stormy seas, a defiant glint in my hate-filled eyes. “Bring it on,” I stage-whispered, fury oozing out of my system, converting itself into the exhilarating strength that I never felt anywhere else. A wave, dangerously larger than the ones before, conjured itself up at the horizon as if to taunt me, and I went for the kill without hesitation.
Resentment. Anger. Insecurity. Defiance. The four words that described my life in a nutshell.
Drenched in sweat (or was it just the salt water?), my head turned towards the beach where my parents were waiting. Even from a distance I could tell that they were no less than jumpy. Leeteuk had a cellphone gripped in his trembling hands, ready to call 911 if my upper body disappeared at any time during my offshore excursion. Kangin, on the other hand, looked exponentially less worried but there was a reason he always brought along my “spare kayak” equipped with a first-aid kit; I did not believe his oh it’s just in case I decide to paddle around shit.
It was not like I did not appreciate their concern over my safety-not a bit of it! I just hated the fact that I needed their concern. I hated the fact that they had every reason to fear for my wellbeing. It made me feel guilty, and seriously, that was just goddamn annoying. Sometimes I wished that I was never born so as to save them the anxiety and worry that they felt for me. It was difficult living with myself when conscious of the knowledge that I was the reason why they were so nervous and fretful every single breathing minute of the day. They did not deserve that. They were my parents, my dearest parents, and they deserved a child that would make them proud. Not me. Anything but me, the failure, the weakling, the mistake, the nothing.
That was another reason why I kayaked: it made me feel independent and strong, something I knew that I would never truly be. Not in this life.
I caught a flash of movement from the corner of my eye and I twisted myself around, narrowly dodging a windsurfer who was evidently out of control. His sails were open to its fullest, a bad idea on a stormy day when the wind was strong enough to overturn a whole ship. “Watch it!” I shouted, watching in horror as the young man crashed into the sharp rocks nearby, toppling over into the water and not resurfacing. My nimble arms paddled towards the stray sail, where the boy was coughing and doing his best to keep his nose above the surface. I reached down and pulled him up, roughly dragging him onto the back of my kayak. I waited until he stopped hacking before berating him like a livid schoolteacher. “What the hell do you think you were doing out there?”
The man looked at me with helpless eyes. His lips were blue and quivering.
“Fine, don’t answer me,” I muttered, gathering up his sails and board while still maintaining my balance. “You have to be careful, though. If you had hit your head on those rocks, I would not have been able to help you!”
He nodded, evidently ashamed of himself.
I took the liberty to look at him for a moment, and I registered that he was an athletic looking man around my own age with dark hair to match his eyes. My eyes trailed towards his long legs and I pursed my lips. “Care to hold your stuff?” I deadpanned. “I’ll paddle us back.”
The man nodded with downcast eyes, still wordless as he held his sail and board.
“You’re a quiet one,” I remarked absentmindedly as I moved against the tide. “Can’t you talk?”
He drearily nodded again, looking exactly like one of those cartoon characters with a raincloud over his head.
“Aren’t you going to?” I asked with a thick coat of sarcasm. Seriously, after going through the trouble of pulling him out of the rocks, the least he could do was answer my questions.
The man opened his mouth and then closed it. Uncertainty was written across his face as his Adam’s apple twitched. “I’m Han Geng,” he settled on saying, voice so soft and so gentle, a stark contrast to the waves that I was fighting against. “I’m from China.”
“Pfft,” I scoffed, voice relaxing. “Whatever.”
A wave knocked me sideways and I was plunged into the freezing waters, upside down. The icy temperatures bit into my skin, but I managed to remain calm. ‘Okay, don’t panic,’ I thought to myself, eyes squeezed shut in concentration. ‘You know how to get out of this.’ Just a twist of the back and I was upright again, taking in the first breath I could. I awkwardly looked back at Han Geng, whose skin had turned six sickly shades whiter, mouth open like a codfish. Sighing, I resisted the urge to roll my eyes at the pathetic sight. “It took me by surprise, that’s all. Now hold on.”
Han Geng bit his lower lip but did just as he was told. I turned away and almost had to bite back a growl at his easy submissiveness. He would not have thought twice about disobeying me if he knew what I was. Nobody took somebody like me seriously, at least if they were everyday normal citizens of a thriving society. My arm mechanically started rotating the paddle so that we had forward momentum.
From a distance, I could already see Kangin struggling to keep a hysterical Leeteuk from dialing the ambulance. I could tell that they were yelling about me, and that their voices were becoming increasingly louder and more desperate. It was a normal occurrence in the household, having them turn against each other because of their differing approaches to child nurturing. Leeteuk would always try to make things easier and less frustrating for me, while Kangin believed that I would be normal if I was treated normally; Leeteuk thought Kangin was asking for too much, and Kangin thought his wife was being too easy. It was heartbreaking to see them quarrel like that, shouting out profanities and screaming out insults. They were the sweetest couple back in their younger days, but that beautiful image was ruined when I turned fourteen-when they started to realize that there were some things that they just could not compromise.
“Your parents?” Han Geng inquired timidly.
I gripped my paddle tighter. “Yah. Got a problem?”
The Chinese man blinked in confusion. “No. But they are fighting.”
I made a huge splash with my paddle, almost snapping right then and there. “Don’t you dare talk about them like they are lunatics!”
“I wasn’t,” he defended sincerely. “I-I noticed that they just seem so worried about you, that’s all.”
“Why wouldn’t they be worried about me?” I barked. “They love me. You would be worried about somebody you loved, too, wouldn’t you?”
Han Geng flinched and ducked his head down.
We landed on the shore several uncomfortable silence-filled minutes later where we were bombarded by my overprotective parents. Leeteuk ran up towards me and started fussing over every joint and limb I never knew I had, while an unimpressed Kangin soundlessly helped Han Geng drag his stuff onto the beach. Most people (particularly those who were already older than eighteen) would have been slightly irritated or at least annoyed at having their parents embarrass them in such a degrading manner. They would have attempted lame nonsensical excuses or chewed on their lips or gritted their teeth, all the while flushing increasingly redder in the face from self-consciousness. I did nothing of the sort (because really, how could my dearest parents ever be embarrassing when they were only showing that they cared?) and just sat there in my kayak, unmoving.
“Oh my goodness, dear, are you sure you are alright?” Leeteuk asked for the millionth time, pressing his finger on my forehead to check my temperature.
I was about to snap at him, to tell him to shut the hell up and to keep his hands to himself, but all of the annoyance I felt melted away once I saw how concerned my mother was for me; instead I managed to squeeze out a fond smile for the effeminate man who loved me all too much. “Yah. I’m alright. Just tired.”
“Would you like to go home?” Kangin asked casually.
My thin shoulders shrugged. “I’ll cut my kayaking session short today.” ‘Thanks to Mr. Mute,’ I decided not to add.
He nodded understandingly and exchanged a glance with his wife. “We’ll be back.”
I pressed my lips together. As my parents scurried off, I heard tentative footsteps approaching from behind me.
“A-Aren’t you getting out?” Han Geng asked a bit hesitantly, stopping right in front of me, still in my kayak. “Your parents are going.”
My eyes drooped. “In a bit.”
A perplexed expression appeared on his face as he held out a shaky hand. “Need help?”
My most hated phrase. “I don’t need your help,” I hissed scathingly.
Kangin came into sight, pushing a wheelchair towards the two of us. The confused look on Han Geng’s face molded into one of shock and comprehension as my father gently lifted my thin form onto the blasted apparatus of incarceration. I took one last glance at the boy I saved before Kangin pushed me through the heavy sand, away from the waters of freedom, towards the Toyota and its ensuing captivity.
“Wait!”
My father’s head snapped around, but mine was stubbornly facing forward where my mother was wringing his hands in unease. Han Geng jogged towards us and gulped nervously, and Kangin took it as a sign that he wanted to speak to me alone.
“What do you want?” I gritted out, voice dripping with menace.
He held out his cellphone. “Can I have your number?”
I huffed. “I don’t need your pity.”
“I’m not giving you any,” he replied steadily. “I honestly just want your number.”
I lifted my gaze. “Well, you’re not getting it, creeper!” I riposted before steering myself away from him. After a few rotations, however, my wheels were too deep into the wet sand that I was unable to move forward any longer. I let my hands fall onto my hand in defeat, eyes welling up with angry tears. Another indication of my weakness on land.
“Please…?”
“I was crippled when I was fourteen. Car accident. Happy?”
“No,” he shook his head. “What’s your name?”
“Heechul,” I breathed out, doing my best to keep my voice unwavering. “My name is Heechul.”
Han Geng silently repeated it and held out his cellphone again. “Please, Heechul?”
I looked up through glassy eyes and saw something akin to sincerity in that soft-spoken boy’s eyes. Then I shifted my gaze towards my parents waiting near the all-too-familiar silver car. With a sigh, I snatched the phone and quickly punched in some buttons. “Happy?”
He nodded shyly.
“You know, I might have given you a fake number,” I spat maliciously. “So don’t celebrate too soon.”
Han Geng was surprisingly unfazed, deciding to ignore my retort by pushing my wheelchair towards my parents.
I tried slapping his hands away. “What are you doing?! I told you that I didn’t need your help!”
He disregarded my words and dodged my feeble blows, a shadow of a smile painting his lips as he wheeled me towards my bemused parents.
```
“You idiot!” I screeched as the lean figure balancing on his kayak once again bumped (more like crashed) into a stray rock. “Paddle, dammit!”
“Right or left?”
I rolled my eyes. “What do you think, stupid?!”
“Left?”
“NO!”
“Right?”
My expression all but screamed unimpressed. “Han Geng, how are you EVER going to learn how to ride the waves if you can’t even steer properly?!”
His eyes were tired and pleading. “Give me a break!” the Chinese man whined. “It’s my second day, alright?”
I sighed sharply. “Yah, well, I don’t want my boyfriend to be a water-crippled bastard!”
“Who are you calling crippled?!” he snarled exasperatedly, maladroitly navigating the hollow wood into another rock. “You’re the one in the goddamn wheelchair!”
I laughed, eyes sparkling with mischief as I splashed icy water into my boyfriend’s face. “I love you, too, Geng!” I joked merrily while he spluttered in indignation.
That was where I belonged, where my physical inability did not matter, where I was finally the same as everybody else. It no longer mattered that I was rejected from the school basketball team since I realized that it was their loss they did not appreciate my athletic talent. The pity looks I got from people walking on the streets did not bother me anymore either; they were all just closed-minded bastards who thought they had it better. Even the underestimation I got from my peers went unnoticed: having Han Geng’s eternal respect was enough.
Out there on the waters of freedom, I was Heechul The Invincible.
Resentment. Anger. Insecurity. Defiance. The four words that ceased to hurt me any longer.