post #10

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[fill] yixing/tao | where i'm going you can't save me (4/?)

[anonymous]

“ge?”

the smoke melts away into the night, leaving behind zitao and a cracked cigarette ending its last words with a slow fizz on the gravel.

their first impression of south korea was cold. every morning came a wintry draft that seemed hostile and sharp and just quite very faintly told you to leave before it claimed you.

yixing had shivered. zitao basked in the way the snowflakes sliced across the air, looking up with wondrous curiosity as they seemed to flash and melt in the force of the sun before his eyes, a never-ending blind date of danger meeting death. soon enough, zitao was basking in the way jongin’s fingertips dragged across the back of his palm, drawing out blood and warmth.

blind dates always end the same way.

yixing would like to believe that it was korea who changed zitao, with its hidden alleyways laced with under-the-streetlamp kisses and brick-wall graffiti inked with only the warmth of bodies. korea, dear darling korea with calm mornings and crazed nights, took little zitao in her arms and refused to let him go. instead, zitao had entered their apartment at 2am and shook yixing hard enough to rattle the lights out of his bones. (he can still feel the tremors to this day.)

“hyung.”

“wha--?”

“hyung.”

one syllable but it’s changed so much. the familiar sharp quirk of zitao’s lips was now a rounded, mellower curve, so soft yet yixing had never heard anything that sounded as hostile. he spotted jongin’s familiar slouch against the wall, withdrawn but waiting, always waiting for zitao to turn around and smile.

it was not korea’s fault.