[exo] if you're with me (then everything's alright)
title: if you're with me (then everything's alright)
pairing: Luhan/Xiumin
word count: 5000w
rating: pg13
summary: Minseok is sleeping beauty and Luhan isn't close to being a prince.
warnings (more like spoiler): [dont click me pls.]character death. dun dun DUN also, did not beta this.
a/n: this definitely isn't what i expected when i planned this out. it was supposed to be cliche like a k-drama, but nahh. a sequel to grayscale.
if you're with me (then everything's alright)
Cold autumn rain pelts the leaf covered gravel. The smell of dried and dead grass isn’t something he appreciates; he’ll rather trade it for something else. He wants to drop everything he has and take a bus across town just to see how rain drops on the pitiful waves as if he hasn’t seen them countless of times.
Rainy strolls on beaches remind him of sweet smiles, coffee dates, and a warm cuddles under the blanket while on another movie marathon.
But today is an entirely different and being whimsical isn’t an appropriate thing. He folds the umbrella, letting the freezing beads of water slip down the back of his neck, his face, and his entire body, soaking him through the fabric of his clothes.
He whispers something inaudible to the air, something along the lines of “i love you.”
Luhan slips his fingers between the spaces of Minseok’s hand. Minseok looks so peaceful, so serene sleeping on the bed and if it weren’t for the neat white bandage across his forehead, the littered scars, and for the machines hooked up to support his life, Minseok looks like he’s taking an afternoon nap.
With the weariness he tries to ignore every passing day, Luhan stands up, still holding Minseok’s hand, to fluff up the teal pillow, praying Minseok wont wake up with a problematic back. But it’s been a few weeks already, and Minseok still hasn’t moved.
There’s a cup of coffee next to Minseok’s bed. Coffee that Luhan mixes every day without fail, exactly the way Minseok likes it in case he finally cracks an eye open, sluggishly greeting him good morning but with a sweet smile on his face.
Sehun comes to visit with him sometimes, just sitting silently in the corner, looking at how Luhan reverently holds onto Minseok’s unmoving hand.
“Are you going back to school?” Sehun asks. It’s been almost a month now, and it’s obvious that he misses the color questions Luhan asks like it’s a goddamn pop quiz worth more than half of your grades. “You’ve missed a lot of your classes. If you skip anymore, you’re not going to pass the semester.”
“Someone’s gotta pay for Minseok’s hospital fees, Sehun.” Luhan musters up a small smile meant to reassure him, but it falters when Sehun doesn’t return it, face drawn into a frown.
“Minseok’s parents are paying the bill.”
“It doesn’t hurt to help, Sehun,” Luhan sighs, a little bite in his words.
Sehun tries to say something, still looking like he’s finding the right words for Luhan. He doesn’t need it right now, tiredly Luhan adds, “Don’t give me that look, Sehun. I’m not going to borrow money from the student loan. You know that thing’s going to haunt me forever. I work at a café, eight hours a day for a higher salary, nothing shady.”
“Just take care of yourself, hyung.”
“I won’t die until I see Minseok up and at ‘em.” There’s no assurance that Minseok will ever be ’up and at ‘em’ but Luhan hopes. Luhan clings onto that less than fifty percent chance that Minseok will wake up, that he’ll live to see another day, just a little longer.
Just a little longer Minseok. Hold on.
Seven am for Luhan means getting out of bed and getting dressed to go to work. A graveyard shift at a nearby convenient store doesn’t come without a toll on Luhan’s body. Functioning six days a week on four hours of sleep doesn’t do anyone good. But Luhan still wakes up without a hitch in his schedule for two years. (Minseok’s been asleep for two years, how did he manage that?)
The café opens at nine, a half an hour walk from the apartment. Luhan doesn’t spend money on bus fare. (He saves that up to pay rent.)
He works a full eight hours at the café cleaning tables, washing dishes, cleaning bathrooms, and all that jazz. Lunch is only an hour, which Luhan splurge his time on browsing through newspapers, looking for other odd jobs he could do on his day off.
He gets off at six in the evening. Sometimes, he has to stay back and help with closing. Luhan hates this, but he can’t argue, lest he might get fired. (They only pay minimum wage, but the tips are nice.)
Luhan learns to love the evenings. The stars don’t shine but the city lights are pretty, in compensation. The colors twinkling and shining on the neon boards as signs light up the night are pretty. Especially when he’s walking to the hospital to visit Minseok, his heart races every time.
He gets to the hospital a little late this time, one of the employees scheduled for closing went on a half-day and Luhan had to help in his stead. So he gets the surprise of his life when he opens the door to Minseok’s room and sees someone sitting beside Minseok. He’s sitting so comfortably, like he’s been there for hours.
“It’s been a few months you know, Minseok-ssi. I’m really happy you saved me that day,” the stranger says, back faced to Luhan. He doesn’t say anything yet, itching to hear whatever he has to say to Minseok. The voice seems familiar; Luhan’s heard it before, soft, a little high… cracked.
“I just want you to wake up so I could properly thank you for it.” He reaches out to card his hand through Minseok’s hair. That’s when Luhan coughs, catching the man’s attention.
“Who are you?”
He panics and retracts his hand from Minseok, standing up and almost knocking a vase over. “I… I-uh… I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay, it didn’t break. Would you mind telling me who you are and what you’re doing here? You’re not in the wrong room, are you?”
“My name is Jongdae, and… I just came here to visit Minseok-ssi.” His gaze drifts back to Minseok’s sleeping figure, his eyes soft.
“What are you… to Minseok, I mean?” Automatically, something in Luhan’s gut churns, and he walks over to the other side of Minseok’s bed, hand intertwining naturally with Minseok’s.
Jongdae’s eyes widen, and he looks younger, like this. Luhan notices the curl of his lips and for a second, he thought Jongdae was smiling, but he wasn’t. “Minseok-ssi, he,” he nervously tugged down his shirt, “saved me from an accident.”
Ah, no wonder he seemed familiar. Luhan remembered rushing back the way he came from when he heard loud screeching noises and people screaming for help. Curiosity pulled him to follow the wave of people, and never had in his mind crossed that Minseok had been involved in it.
He twisted his way into the front of the crowd and he saw Minseok lying on the gravel. Minseok was bleeding there and he was too stunned to even move, trying to process everything. The colors must have whacked his thinking process.
Minseok. Blood. Accident.
Luhan swears red had never looked uglier.
“I think… I should go,” Jongdae says when Luhan takes a long time to respond. “I’ll come back some other time.”
As Jongdae turns to leave, Luhan stops him. A dreadful feeling in his gut composes a question for him; all he had to do is ask. “Why are you really here?”
Jongdae doesn’t turn around, his grip on the door knob tightening. “Minseok-ssi is my soul mate."
“Sehun,” comes a whisper from the door. A series of knocks fall on the door just as the whispering becomes louder. “Sehun, Sehun, Sehun. Answer me.”
Sehun opens the door, blearily swearing at the person knocking because goddamn it! it’s three am. “What?”
“Sehun.” Luhan’s tear smudged face comes into view and he falls into Sehun’s couch as easily as his name. “Help me, Sehun.”
“What? What’s wrong?” He checks him over for any wound, cuts, or bruises but he finds none, except the bandage over his index finger from cutting himself on a paring knife last week. “Are you hurt?”
“I don’t know what to do, Sehun-ah.” It’s probably not the time to notice how the pale yellow light coming from the 24/7 burger joint from outside illuminating Luhan’s face is making him look a hundred times beautiful than he is, but Sehun notices it anyway, his hands coming up to wipe his hyung’s tears.
“Tell me,” he uses a soft voice, a tone he uses when he’s talking to children to comfort them. It also works on Luhan because Luhan isn’t a fan of people screaming at him.
“Minseok’s soul mate,” he takes in a deep gulp of air before he proceeds, Sehun’s eyes are drooping with sleep, barely focused on anything but Luhan. “Minseok’s soul mate came to visit, earlier.”
“How?”
“Remember the accident? There was a college kid involved in it too. His name’s Jongdae and he… Minseok pulled him from the street before the truck could hit him. He came to visit.”
“What’s wrong with him visiting?”
Nothing. Nothing’s wrong, that’s it. Luhan doesn’t say anything besides being tired. He wants to go back home. Sehun tells him to take his bed, and he’ll take the sofa. Luhan smiles and tells him he’s okay.
Sehun holds the door open for him as he walks out. “It’s going to take you until sunrise to get back, please take a bus.”
“I’m okay. I’ll head on to work, to save time.”
Sehun isn’t convinced, nevertheless he doesn’t argue. “Take care.” The click of the door locking isn’t a good sound. Luhan is killing himself, and Sehun is tolerating him on his path to self destruction.
What a shitty soul mate he is.
Minseok’s parents come to visit sometimes; his mother usually stays a day or two a week, however Minseok’s father doesn’t stay for long.
Minseok’s mother greets him when he arrives, along with Jongdae who’s looking at ease. “Have a seat, Luhan. Jongdae brought us fresh fruits to eat.” She’s a sweet mother, fussing around Luhan as if he were her own child. Sometimes, Luhan wished she was his real mother.
“I’ve already eaten, Mrs. Kim.”
“Nonsense! Look at how skinny you are, come on.” She waves him to sit down next to her. “I know you help pay the bills, Luhan. Don’t forget to eat. Oh, where were we again, Jongdae? Ah, yes! My socks! And what color are they?”
“Green,” Jongdae smiles, peeling a tangerine. He’s obviously wrong, because Mrs. Kim is wearing a pair of blue socks. Blue is Minseok’s color. He doesn’t say anything, opting to bite into the apple she handed. “They’re very pretty on you. Very flattering on your skin.”
“Luhan, you can see colors too, right? Would you like to join us?”
“You’re wearing blue socks, Mrs. Kim. Not green.”
She laughs, scolding Jongdae teasingly. “Oh, that looks good too, right?” She turns to Luhan for affirmation, and he gives her none. “Ah, how long have you gotten your colors? Luhan knows a lot about colors. Maybe you should ask him to help you. If that’s okay with you, Luhan?”
Jongdae nods, smiling at Mrs. Kim, before looking at Luhan cautiously. Jongdae asks away, getting clipped and direct answers from Luhan. The exchange probably bored Mrs. Kim as she excuses herself to nap on the couch. “How did you and Minseok-ssi meet?”
“What?”
“How long have you been friends?”
“We’re… not friends.”
“Then why are you here?”
“I could ask you the same question.”
“I’m his soul mate.”
“That doesn’t mean anything.”
“Are you his boyfriend or something?” Jongdae’s meek demeanor dissipates. He stops peeling apples half-way and looks at Luhan, searching for an answer. His voice isn’t harsh, bordering more on curiosity.
“I don’t mean to offend you. It’s that Mrs. Kim talked fondly of you, and I guessed you were his bestfriend or something, and you said you weren’t his friend. So, what? Are you his boyfriend?”
“I’m his boyfriend.”
“Really?”
Luhan ignores him, then. It doesn’t even make a difference at that point.
“What was he like?” Jongdae doesn’t seem fazed at Luhan’s insistence to keep quiet. He keeps asking Luhan about Minseok, and Luhan’s angry silence greets him every time at first then Luhan begins to remember how Minseok felt in his embrace. Small, warm, and everything he could ever want.
It’s not supposed be like this. They were supposed to grow old together, wrinkly old men holding on to each other at their small seaside house. What did we ever do wrong?
Loving each other isn’t a crime. It’s unfair to treat it as such. Soul mates or not, love is for everyone. Everyone else got to choose. Everyone else had their own happy stories. But not them. Why?
Sometimes, sometimes though, Luhan forgets. He keeps asking his own questions of how and why and what went wrong that he’s beginning to forget how Minseok looks like when he laughs. How he looks like at the first crack of daylight. He knows he looks breathtaking, just… He can’t picture it anymore. It’s terrifying.
He’s slowly forgetting Minseok as time passes them because time does that; make you forget. “Minseok is perfect. A bit obsessive with cleaning, nonetheless perfect.”
Jongdae smiles at him. “He makes your heart flutter, doesn’t he?”
“He hates the cold, maybe one of the reasons why he loves coffee. Coffee’s usually hot.”
“Minseok-ssi must have been a fun guy.”
Luhan sighs. “He is.” He lets Jongdae run his mouth with more questions about Minseok and colors. Luhan only supplies answers to questions he likes though, Jongdae still doesn’t mind. He likes talking, filling in the room with other than the steady beeping of Minseok’s heart monitor, and the soft snores of his mother.
Winter crawls in so fast and two years slowly turn into three.
By chance, Baekhyun and Kris stumble into the café he works at. Kris tells him he’s accompanying Baekhyun to get his pre-exam coffee. Oh, right, they're still in school.
Baekhyun tells him they just visited Minseok and the two of them smile at him and informs him if he ever needs anyone, they’re a phone call away. He promises to call and waves them goodbye, his smile falling as they exit the shop hand in hand.
Day in and day out. Nothing changes much. Rent goes higher, he gets fired from the convenient store he worked at for sleeping on the job multiple times, and he’s now working at a store much farther from their apartment. Just minor changes.
Minseok is still asleep. Jongdae doesn’t stop visiting as often as he can. Sehun has exams in two weeks time. Luhan is still stuck between sleep and exhaustion.
He gets sick once, vomiting on the café floor because his eyes weren’t functioning well. The doctor tells him he needs to put on glasses or else the headache isn’t going to ease away. Sehun gets him cheap glasses, but Luhan knows by the looks of it that it’s nowhere cheap.
The water bill goes up along with the electricity. The only functioning appliance in the apartment is the heater and the light switches; Luhan doesn’t mind.
It’s okay, he could handle the minor changes. All except one.
He’s nowhere ready for the day Minseok’s parents decided their child has had enough.
And that day has finally come.
Jongdae pulls him into a crushing hug that’s probably meant to be comforting the both of them as Mrs. Kim announces their decision.
Minseok never wanted to die, and though somewhere deep within the recesses of Luhan’s mind, Luhan knows he would rather die than see Luhan suffering like this, looking like a zombie, just to keep his body alive.
“Stopping all this, pulling the plug, is like ending my own happiness, Mrs. Kim.”
“Luhan, you’re a sweet boy, and we appreciate you helping us with the expenses. But it’s been years now. Minseok needs to…” Mrs. Kim stops midsentence and excuses herself, voice croaky. Luhan turns to Minseok’s father, watching the events as they unfold before him.
Luhan can’t breathe.
“I’ll work more shifts if the bills are too much. I’ll do anything. I’ll-I’ll talk to my parents, they might help.” He’s desperate. They can’t do this. Minseok is going to wake up, and he’s going to be the one to greet him ‘good morning’ even though it might not be morning.
“Luhan,” Mr. Kim sighs. “We’ve already decided. There’s nothing much you can do but rest. You’ve strained yourself so much for Minseok’s sake.”
“Why? Why are you doing this to your own child? Don’t give up on him like this. You don’t understand.” Minseok has to live is a selfish thought that Luhan doesn’t let himself say.
“Luhan, I understand perfectly. Do you think it’s easy for me to see my only son lying on the bed motionless for years? It’s not. The doctors have said that his brain isn’t showing any signs of activity. He’s only alive through a tube and a machine.” Luhan stays quiet, nails digging into his palms and forming tiny crescents. The man clasps his back, “Thank you for loving my son. Thank you for keeping him company after all that happened, however, it’s time for him to rest.”
Luhan heartbeat is so loud in his ears; it feels like it’s going to burst. He doesn’t hear Jongdae ask when they’re going to do it. But Mr. Kim’s words are like clear as sharp knives prodding his chest.
“This Friday. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to find my wife.”
Friday. Four days left to say his final goodbyes. Luhan’s prepared speeches for when Minseok wakes up, for when he has those sparkling eyes looking back at him, for when he can taste Minseok’s sweet kisses again.
Never has he dreamed of a preparing a eulogy.
“I’m sorry you’ll have to lose your colors.” Luhan mutters, Jongdae doesn’t hear him at first but when Luhan looks really looks at him and repeats himself, “I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault.”
Sad, conflicted, and dazed, Luhan rasps out a hurried, “Use your life wisely, okay?” Minseok gave up his for you. Don’t make him die for nothing.
He allows himself to hear Jongdae’s “Of course, I promise” before turning around to leave.
He stumbles in front of Sehun’s house, knocking weakly. It’s a good thing Sehun answers quickly because he couldn’t hold in the tears he was holding back. It stings his eyes; it’s been a while since he cried.
Sehun wraps him into a tight hug without question. He hums into Luhan’s hair, rubbing soothing circles into his shoulder blades.
He asks Sehun for a drink and the younger hesitantly leaves him on the couch to fetch two plastic bags full of soju and snacks from his kitchen. Sehun’s couch is enough for one person, so they drop onto the floor, Sehun cradling his glass between his legs and attentively nods to whatever drunk Luhan says.
“Screw our dreams of domestic bliss. Fuck, fuck everything. Fuck the system.” Luhan screams in the nearly desolated living room. Sehun knows when to question Luhan and when to keep his mouth closed, now is good time for the latter.
Sehun squeezes his hand, a show of support no matter what. Luhan would have eyed it cautiously, but he’s not quite in control of his motor actions. He tries to down in a few more shots before he passes out.
(Luhan dreams, for the first time in a long while.
He’s barefooted in a wide field and standing right next to him is Minseok. Both of them are grinning at each other, hands locked tightly. Minseok tugs him across the field, and they stop at a shallow stream, the waters were shining different colors. He cups the water with his free hand, and the colors turned black.
Luhan jumps, but Minseok is there to hold him. “It’s alright.” He says without a hitch, still smiling at Luhan. Luhan eases his hold, and Minseok takes him under a giant tree with a lot of green moss growing on the bark, and they sit on a stump next to it.
The sun disappears without Luhan noticing, as he’s engrossed in a light conversation with Minseok. He laughs so easily and so freely, Luhan can’t help but follow along.
A firefly buzzed between them, joining his friends across the field. This time, Luhan pulls Minseok towards them, but Luhan steps on a branch and he remembers. The flickering lights of fireflies in the distance stills, and Luhan notices that they’re stars, not fireflies.
“Are we going to fly now?” Minseok asks, pure innocence reflected in his eyes. It leaves Luhan confused, an aching feeling in his chest.
“What do you mean, Minseok?”
“We’re going to fly, when the stars pour out of the sky. We should prepare ourselves!”
“That’s impossible. Stars can’t pour out from the sky,” Luhan snorts at Minseok, the ache growing impossibly painful by the second.
“I can’t seem to read you.” Minseok’s smile is gone, and a worried frown mars his features. He inches forward, one cautious step at a time until they’re face to face, noses brushing. “It feels like I don’t know you.”
“What?” Luhan stood there, not knowing what to do. He closes his eyes and breathes in the air, and truly remembers. Minseok in a hospital bed, hooked up to life support. Minseok saving his soul mate. Minseok is going to die.
“Kiss me,” he whispers against Minseok’s lips. His body is cold, except the hand Minseok is holding; it’s burning, but Luhan doesn’t let go. “Under these stars, we’re in forever.” He lies. “So kiss me, kiss me because we’re under these stars, kiss me, Minseok. Kiss me,” and then Minseok does.)
Luhan wakes up screaming.
Luhan goes missing for a day. He doesn’t contact anyone after leaving Sehun’s apartment. No one contacts him anyway, so how is he missing. People are only considered missing when someone notices they’re not where they’re supposed to be.
He lies on the living room floor instead of the bed. The bed sheets haven’t been changed in weeks and it probably smells like tears and dust. Not Minseok.
Luhan trails his fingertips, glides them over the leg of the coffee table. Coldness slips on the edges of his skin, despite the current warmth the heater is emitting. Recalling the morning’s scenario makes his head ache and he rolls onto his side to get the image of Sehun screaming out of his head.
“My life’s a mess. A complete wreck and yet you’re willing to sit with me and sort my shit. Sehun, this isn’t something that can be done in a single night. This isn’t going to be easy.”
“I never said it was. I’m prepared to help-“
“Do you understand what you’re saying? What you’re getting in to?”
“I’m not a kid, hyung.”
“I know you’re not, but it is nowhere your responsibility to save me-to help me.”
“I’ve waited nineteen years for you. Do you think I’d just let you waste your life after I’ve waited nineteen fucking years for you? Call it selfish but I want to protect what’s mine. Minseok hyung can’t-”
“Yours? Oh Sehun, I am not yours. I don’t belong to you.”
“You’re my soul mate!”
“So what? It doesn’t make me want you or love you more than a brother, a sibling! Get it in your head, Sehun. Don’t hurt yourself pinning for something that you can’t have.”
“You’re my soul mate.”
“For God knows why,” Luhan gives up, throws in the towel. They’ve reached an agreement before, so why is Sehun being a stubborn brat?
“It’s not fair.”
“Life has never been fair,” Luhan takes a long drag from the cigarette, and crushes it with the heel of his shoes. “The system has never been fair. We’re all doomed.”
Luhan lives with so much regrets. He regrets disappointing his parents and leaving them. He regrets being born as someone else’s soul mate. He regrets not being the one to paint Minseok’s world. He regrets not being able to stop Minseok’s parents. He regrets, regrets, regrets.
He tries to sleep. Sleep is his refuge now. It’s where Minseok is well, and they can have forever with them, can be each other’s painters. In dreams, possibilities are endless. ‘How’ doesn’t matter, all that matters is them.
Maybe when Luhan falls asleep on the floor, he’ll get a backache when he wakes up, but if it means he can dream of Minseok again, where they could fly around the world hand in hand, kissing, and being together, then it’s worth it.
When sleep takes him, he doesn’t dream of Minseok. Everything is static black.
Luhan only leaves the apartment on Friday, he doesn’t bother to dress up, he’s not attending a funeral. He’s not attending anyone’s funeral.
He gets there before Jongdae, before anyone else. It’ll be a while before they arrive, so he takes his usual place next to Minseok and tells him everything he has to say. He doesn’t stop, even when Jongdae and Minseok’s parents come with along with a few nurses and Minseok’s doctor.
“We could have been so much more, Minseok. Remember when I said I didn’t believe in soul mates because I believed in you? Good God, Minseok, you mean so much more, and I’m sorry if I wasn’t able to say these to you for you to hear. I’ve failed you in so many ways that I even thought you’d give up on me, but you didn’t. You still loved me. You loved me, Minseok. Took care of me and pulled me together.”
Luhan ticks off everything he’d miss in a neat checklist at the back of his head. Dates. Movie nights. Cuddles. Kisses. Minseok. Oh god, Minseok.
“This isn’t my choice to make, Minseok. I-I will always love you, more than I could possibly love another person again. You know that, right?” Please let this be a good choice, letting his parents do this.He prays.
Stepping back, he watches Minseok’s parents sign the euthanasia waiver. Luhan tries to tear his eyes away from the doctor reaching out to stop all the machinery,
Minseok's life support, but it’s making his head ache. Luhan focuses on the way
Minseok’s chest heaves, until it comes to a stop and he lies there, unmoving.
“Kim Minseok. Time of death, eleven twenty-two.” Luhan lost all his tears already, and if he genuinely had any left, it would surely have dropped even before the doctor made a move to shut down everything. Luhan feels empty, hollow. The colors around him, a mocking contrast to the situation, are bright and vibrant. If he could color himself right then, he’d douse himself in thick black ink.
Colors have lost its meaning to Luhan.
Next to him, Jongdae has his eyes closed, hands balled into fists by his sides. “It’s done. You can open your eyes, Jongdae.”
“I’m waiting for the beeping to stop.”
“Whatever suits you,” he hugs Jongdae before he leaves the room, bowing slightly at Minseok’s parents. “I’m sorry for your colors, Jongdae.”
Cold autumn rain pelts the leaf covered gravel. The smell of dried and dead grass isn’t something Luhan appreciates; he’ll rather trade it for something else. He wants to drop everything he has and take a bus across town just to see how rain drops on the pitiful waves as if he hasn’t seen them countless of times.
Rainy strolls on beaches remind him of sweet smiles, coffee dates, and a warm cuddles under the blanket while on another movie marathon. And of Minseok.
But today is different, and being whimsical isn’t an appropriate thing on Minseok’s death anniversary. He folds the umbrella, letting the freezing beads of water slip down the back of his neck, his face, and his entire body, soaking him through the fabric of his clothes.
“Minseok,” Luhan tries the name on his lips. It’s been a while since he said it, and he feels ashamed of that fact. It’s not like he’s trying to forget Minseok. It’s just that he wants to move forward, to not be dragged back by the past. Minseok will be proud of him because he’s helping a lot of people now, that he’s back in school, and that he’s somehow made up with his parents back in Beijing.
Moving on is hard, no one said it would be easy. Luhan busies himself with good things and slowly, gradually, he becomes healthier and more like his old self. (Everything’s alright.)
“I love you.” He carefully traces Minseok’s name on the gravestone with his fingers. It’s been only a year after Minseok’s parents decided to stop his life support, but Luhan also counts the four years Minseok stopped talking, stopped moving, stopped giving Luhan his crooked smiles, and stopped holding his hand and telling him hushed promises of ‘it’s okay, i’m here’.
Three words could sum up everything Luhan needs to say right at that moment. However it’s also those three words that he wasn’t able to say often enough to Minseok. He hasn’t said it enough, it’s not enough. So he adds a ‘wherever you are, minseok, please be happy. please, please, be happy because you deserve to be. you don’t need to watch over me, okay? i can manage. until then, when i’m old and maybe rotting and withering on a bed ,i want to be able to go to where you are, and maybe we’d be born in the same world again, but this time as soul mates.’
Luhan sighs, checking his wristwatch. It’s almost night time, and if he doesn’t come home soon, Sehun’s going to worry like a good dongsaeng he should be.
He clears the pastel lilac he left last time and places a rose in its place, thorns long gone. “See you.” Luhan says, leaving with a less heavy heart.
more a/n: the concept for soulmates being color blind before meeting isn't my original idea. i saw this on tumblr and thought up of a long ass taohun au but then xiuhan came in like a wrecking ball. i wanted to credit the post beforehand however i also wanted to base the real ending from the prompt where Jongdae dropps an apple in the middle of shopping because the apple was in monochrome. aka minseok died without him knowing. or smth weird like that. (originally titled paint me in crimson.)
(no words can describe how done i am with this au. it's been fun, though. hope you enjoy!)
pairing: Luhan/Xiumin
word count: 5000w
rating: pg13
summary: Minseok is sleeping beauty and Luhan isn't close to being a prince.
warnings (more like spoiler): [dont click me pls.]character death. dun dun DUN also, did not beta this.
a/n: this definitely isn't what i expected when i planned this out. it was supposed to be cliche like a k-drama, but nahh. a sequel to grayscale.
if you're with me (then everything's alright)
Cold autumn rain pelts the leaf covered gravel. The smell of dried and dead grass isn’t something he appreciates; he’ll rather trade it for something else. He wants to drop everything he has and take a bus across town just to see how rain drops on the pitiful waves as if he hasn’t seen them countless of times.
Rainy strolls on beaches remind him of sweet smiles, coffee dates, and a warm cuddles under the blanket while on another movie marathon.
But today is an entirely different and being whimsical isn’t an appropriate thing. He folds the umbrella, letting the freezing beads of water slip down the back of his neck, his face, and his entire body, soaking him through the fabric of his clothes.
He whispers something inaudible to the air, something along the lines of “i love you.”
Luhan slips his fingers between the spaces of Minseok’s hand. Minseok looks so peaceful, so serene sleeping on the bed and if it weren’t for the neat white bandage across his forehead, the littered scars, and for the machines hooked up to support his life, Minseok looks like he’s taking an afternoon nap.
With the weariness he tries to ignore every passing day, Luhan stands up, still holding Minseok’s hand, to fluff up the teal pillow, praying Minseok wont wake up with a problematic back. But it’s been a few weeks already, and Minseok still hasn’t moved.
There’s a cup of coffee next to Minseok’s bed. Coffee that Luhan mixes every day without fail, exactly the way Minseok likes it in case he finally cracks an eye open, sluggishly greeting him good morning but with a sweet smile on his face.
Sehun comes to visit with him sometimes, just sitting silently in the corner, looking at how Luhan reverently holds onto Minseok’s unmoving hand.
“Are you going back to school?” Sehun asks. It’s been almost a month now, and it’s obvious that he misses the color questions Luhan asks like it’s a goddamn pop quiz worth more than half of your grades. “You’ve missed a lot of your classes. If you skip anymore, you’re not going to pass the semester.”
“Someone’s gotta pay for Minseok’s hospital fees, Sehun.” Luhan musters up a small smile meant to reassure him, but it falters when Sehun doesn’t return it, face drawn into a frown.
“Minseok’s parents are paying the bill.”
“It doesn’t hurt to help, Sehun,” Luhan sighs, a little bite in his words.
Sehun tries to say something, still looking like he’s finding the right words for Luhan. He doesn’t need it right now, tiredly Luhan adds, “Don’t give me that look, Sehun. I’m not going to borrow money from the student loan. You know that thing’s going to haunt me forever. I work at a café, eight hours a day for a higher salary, nothing shady.”
“Just take care of yourself, hyung.”
“I won’t die until I see Minseok up and at ‘em.” There’s no assurance that Minseok will ever be ’up and at ‘em’ but Luhan hopes. Luhan clings onto that less than fifty percent chance that Minseok will wake up, that he’ll live to see another day, just a little longer.
Just a little longer Minseok. Hold on.
Seven am for Luhan means getting out of bed and getting dressed to go to work. A graveyard shift at a nearby convenient store doesn’t come without a toll on Luhan’s body. Functioning six days a week on four hours of sleep doesn’t do anyone good. But Luhan still wakes up without a hitch in his schedule for two years. (Minseok’s been asleep for two years, how did he manage that?)
The café opens at nine, a half an hour walk from the apartment. Luhan doesn’t spend money on bus fare. (He saves that up to pay rent.)
He works a full eight hours at the café cleaning tables, washing dishes, cleaning bathrooms, and all that jazz. Lunch is only an hour, which Luhan splurge his time on browsing through newspapers, looking for other odd jobs he could do on his day off.
He gets off at six in the evening. Sometimes, he has to stay back and help with closing. Luhan hates this, but he can’t argue, lest he might get fired. (They only pay minimum wage, but the tips are nice.)
Luhan learns to love the evenings. The stars don’t shine but the city lights are pretty, in compensation. The colors twinkling and shining on the neon boards as signs light up the night are pretty. Especially when he’s walking to the hospital to visit Minseok, his heart races every time.
He gets to the hospital a little late this time, one of the employees scheduled for closing went on a half-day and Luhan had to help in his stead. So he gets the surprise of his life when he opens the door to Minseok’s room and sees someone sitting beside Minseok. He’s sitting so comfortably, like he’s been there for hours.
“It’s been a few months you know, Minseok-ssi. I’m really happy you saved me that day,” the stranger says, back faced to Luhan. He doesn’t say anything yet, itching to hear whatever he has to say to Minseok. The voice seems familiar; Luhan’s heard it before, soft, a little high… cracked.
“I just want you to wake up so I could properly thank you for it.” He reaches out to card his hand through Minseok’s hair. That’s when Luhan coughs, catching the man’s attention.
“Who are you?”
He panics and retracts his hand from Minseok, standing up and almost knocking a vase over. “I… I-uh… I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay, it didn’t break. Would you mind telling me who you are and what you’re doing here? You’re not in the wrong room, are you?”
“My name is Jongdae, and… I just came here to visit Minseok-ssi.” His gaze drifts back to Minseok’s sleeping figure, his eyes soft.
“What are you… to Minseok, I mean?” Automatically, something in Luhan’s gut churns, and he walks over to the other side of Minseok’s bed, hand intertwining naturally with Minseok’s.
Jongdae’s eyes widen, and he looks younger, like this. Luhan notices the curl of his lips and for a second, he thought Jongdae was smiling, but he wasn’t. “Minseok-ssi, he,” he nervously tugged down his shirt, “saved me from an accident.”
Ah, no wonder he seemed familiar. Luhan remembered rushing back the way he came from when he heard loud screeching noises and people screaming for help. Curiosity pulled him to follow the wave of people, and never had in his mind crossed that Minseok had been involved in it.
He twisted his way into the front of the crowd and he saw Minseok lying on the gravel. Minseok was bleeding there and he was too stunned to even move, trying to process everything. The colors must have whacked his thinking process.
Minseok. Blood. Accident.
Luhan swears red had never looked uglier.
“I think… I should go,” Jongdae says when Luhan takes a long time to respond. “I’ll come back some other time.”
As Jongdae turns to leave, Luhan stops him. A dreadful feeling in his gut composes a question for him; all he had to do is ask. “Why are you really here?”
Jongdae doesn’t turn around, his grip on the door knob tightening. “Minseok-ssi is my soul mate."
“Sehun,” comes a whisper from the door. A series of knocks fall on the door just as the whispering becomes louder. “Sehun, Sehun, Sehun. Answer me.”
Sehun opens the door, blearily swearing at the person knocking because goddamn it! it’s three am. “What?”
“Sehun.” Luhan’s tear smudged face comes into view and he falls into Sehun’s couch as easily as his name. “Help me, Sehun.”
“What? What’s wrong?” He checks him over for any wound, cuts, or bruises but he finds none, except the bandage over his index finger from cutting himself on a paring knife last week. “Are you hurt?”
“I don’t know what to do, Sehun-ah.” It’s probably not the time to notice how the pale yellow light coming from the 24/7 burger joint from outside illuminating Luhan’s face is making him look a hundred times beautiful than he is, but Sehun notices it anyway, his hands coming up to wipe his hyung’s tears.
“Tell me,” he uses a soft voice, a tone he uses when he’s talking to children to comfort them. It also works on Luhan because Luhan isn’t a fan of people screaming at him.
“Minseok’s soul mate,” he takes in a deep gulp of air before he proceeds, Sehun’s eyes are drooping with sleep, barely focused on anything but Luhan. “Minseok’s soul mate came to visit, earlier.”
“How?”
“Remember the accident? There was a college kid involved in it too. His name’s Jongdae and he… Minseok pulled him from the street before the truck could hit him. He came to visit.”
“What’s wrong with him visiting?”
Nothing. Nothing’s wrong, that’s it. Luhan doesn’t say anything besides being tired. He wants to go back home. Sehun tells him to take his bed, and he’ll take the sofa. Luhan smiles and tells him he’s okay.
Sehun holds the door open for him as he walks out. “It’s going to take you until sunrise to get back, please take a bus.”
“I’m okay. I’ll head on to work, to save time.”
Sehun isn’t convinced, nevertheless he doesn’t argue. “Take care.” The click of the door locking isn’t a good sound. Luhan is killing himself, and Sehun is tolerating him on his path to self destruction.
What a shitty soul mate he is.
Minseok’s parents come to visit sometimes; his mother usually stays a day or two a week, however Minseok’s father doesn’t stay for long.
Minseok’s mother greets him when he arrives, along with Jongdae who’s looking at ease. “Have a seat, Luhan. Jongdae brought us fresh fruits to eat.” She’s a sweet mother, fussing around Luhan as if he were her own child. Sometimes, Luhan wished she was his real mother.
“I’ve already eaten, Mrs. Kim.”
“Nonsense! Look at how skinny you are, come on.” She waves him to sit down next to her. “I know you help pay the bills, Luhan. Don’t forget to eat. Oh, where were we again, Jongdae? Ah, yes! My socks! And what color are they?”
“Green,” Jongdae smiles, peeling a tangerine. He’s obviously wrong, because Mrs. Kim is wearing a pair of blue socks. Blue is Minseok’s color. He doesn’t say anything, opting to bite into the apple she handed. “They’re very pretty on you. Very flattering on your skin.”
“Luhan, you can see colors too, right? Would you like to join us?”
“You’re wearing blue socks, Mrs. Kim. Not green.”
She laughs, scolding Jongdae teasingly. “Oh, that looks good too, right?” She turns to Luhan for affirmation, and he gives her none. “Ah, how long have you gotten your colors? Luhan knows a lot about colors. Maybe you should ask him to help you. If that’s okay with you, Luhan?”
Jongdae nods, smiling at Mrs. Kim, before looking at Luhan cautiously. Jongdae asks away, getting clipped and direct answers from Luhan. The exchange probably bored Mrs. Kim as she excuses herself to nap on the couch. “How did you and Minseok-ssi meet?”
“What?”
“How long have you been friends?”
“We’re… not friends.”
“Then why are you here?”
“I could ask you the same question.”
“I’m his soul mate.”
“That doesn’t mean anything.”
“Are you his boyfriend or something?” Jongdae’s meek demeanor dissipates. He stops peeling apples half-way and looks at Luhan, searching for an answer. His voice isn’t harsh, bordering more on curiosity.
“I don’t mean to offend you. It’s that Mrs. Kim talked fondly of you, and I guessed you were his bestfriend or something, and you said you weren’t his friend. So, what? Are you his boyfriend?”
“I’m his boyfriend.”
“Really?”
Luhan ignores him, then. It doesn’t even make a difference at that point.
“What was he like?” Jongdae doesn’t seem fazed at Luhan’s insistence to keep quiet. He keeps asking Luhan about Minseok, and Luhan’s angry silence greets him every time at first then Luhan begins to remember how Minseok felt in his embrace. Small, warm, and everything he could ever want.
It’s not supposed be like this. They were supposed to grow old together, wrinkly old men holding on to each other at their small seaside house. What did we ever do wrong?
Loving each other isn’t a crime. It’s unfair to treat it as such. Soul mates or not, love is for everyone. Everyone else got to choose. Everyone else had their own happy stories. But not them. Why?
Sometimes, sometimes though, Luhan forgets. He keeps asking his own questions of how and why and what went wrong that he’s beginning to forget how Minseok looks like when he laughs. How he looks like at the first crack of daylight. He knows he looks breathtaking, just… He can’t picture it anymore. It’s terrifying.
He’s slowly forgetting Minseok as time passes them because time does that; make you forget. “Minseok is perfect. A bit obsessive with cleaning, nonetheless perfect.”
Jongdae smiles at him. “He makes your heart flutter, doesn’t he?”
“He hates the cold, maybe one of the reasons why he loves coffee. Coffee’s usually hot.”
“Minseok-ssi must have been a fun guy.”
Luhan sighs. “He is.” He lets Jongdae run his mouth with more questions about Minseok and colors. Luhan only supplies answers to questions he likes though, Jongdae still doesn’t mind. He likes talking, filling in the room with other than the steady beeping of Minseok’s heart monitor, and the soft snores of his mother.
Winter crawls in so fast and two years slowly turn into three.
By chance, Baekhyun and Kris stumble into the café he works at. Kris tells him he’s accompanying Baekhyun to get his pre-exam coffee. Oh, right, they're still in school.
Baekhyun tells him they just visited Minseok and the two of them smile at him and informs him if he ever needs anyone, they’re a phone call away. He promises to call and waves them goodbye, his smile falling as they exit the shop hand in hand.
Day in and day out. Nothing changes much. Rent goes higher, he gets fired from the convenient store he worked at for sleeping on the job multiple times, and he’s now working at a store much farther from their apartment. Just minor changes.
Minseok is still asleep. Jongdae doesn’t stop visiting as often as he can. Sehun has exams in two weeks time. Luhan is still stuck between sleep and exhaustion.
He gets sick once, vomiting on the café floor because his eyes weren’t functioning well. The doctor tells him he needs to put on glasses or else the headache isn’t going to ease away. Sehun gets him cheap glasses, but Luhan knows by the looks of it that it’s nowhere cheap.
The water bill goes up along with the electricity. The only functioning appliance in the apartment is the heater and the light switches; Luhan doesn’t mind.
It’s okay, he could handle the minor changes. All except one.
He’s nowhere ready for the day Minseok’s parents decided their child has had enough.
And that day has finally come.
Jongdae pulls him into a crushing hug that’s probably meant to be comforting the both of them as Mrs. Kim announces their decision.
Minseok never wanted to die, and though somewhere deep within the recesses of Luhan’s mind, Luhan knows he would rather die than see Luhan suffering like this, looking like a zombie, just to keep his body alive.
“Stopping all this, pulling the plug, is like ending my own happiness, Mrs. Kim.”
“Luhan, you’re a sweet boy, and we appreciate you helping us with the expenses. But it’s been years now. Minseok needs to…” Mrs. Kim stops midsentence and excuses herself, voice croaky. Luhan turns to Minseok’s father, watching the events as they unfold before him.
Luhan can’t breathe.
“I’ll work more shifts if the bills are too much. I’ll do anything. I’ll-I’ll talk to my parents, they might help.” He’s desperate. They can’t do this. Minseok is going to wake up, and he’s going to be the one to greet him ‘good morning’ even though it might not be morning.
“Luhan,” Mr. Kim sighs. “We’ve already decided. There’s nothing much you can do but rest. You’ve strained yourself so much for Minseok’s sake.”
“Why? Why are you doing this to your own child? Don’t give up on him like this. You don’t understand.” Minseok has to live is a selfish thought that Luhan doesn’t let himself say.
“Luhan, I understand perfectly. Do you think it’s easy for me to see my only son lying on the bed motionless for years? It’s not. The doctors have said that his brain isn’t showing any signs of activity. He’s only alive through a tube and a machine.” Luhan stays quiet, nails digging into his palms and forming tiny crescents. The man clasps his back, “Thank you for loving my son. Thank you for keeping him company after all that happened, however, it’s time for him to rest.”
Luhan heartbeat is so loud in his ears; it feels like it’s going to burst. He doesn’t hear Jongdae ask when they’re going to do it. But Mr. Kim’s words are like clear as sharp knives prodding his chest.
“This Friday. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to find my wife.”
Friday. Four days left to say his final goodbyes. Luhan’s prepared speeches for when Minseok wakes up, for when he has those sparkling eyes looking back at him, for when he can taste Minseok’s sweet kisses again.
Never has he dreamed of a preparing a eulogy.
“I’m sorry you’ll have to lose your colors.” Luhan mutters, Jongdae doesn’t hear him at first but when Luhan looks really looks at him and repeats himself, “I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault.”
Sad, conflicted, and dazed, Luhan rasps out a hurried, “Use your life wisely, okay?” Minseok gave up his for you. Don’t make him die for nothing.
He allows himself to hear Jongdae’s “Of course, I promise” before turning around to leave.
He stumbles in front of Sehun’s house, knocking weakly. It’s a good thing Sehun answers quickly because he couldn’t hold in the tears he was holding back. It stings his eyes; it’s been a while since he cried.
Sehun wraps him into a tight hug without question. He hums into Luhan’s hair, rubbing soothing circles into his shoulder blades.
He asks Sehun for a drink and the younger hesitantly leaves him on the couch to fetch two plastic bags full of soju and snacks from his kitchen. Sehun’s couch is enough for one person, so they drop onto the floor, Sehun cradling his glass between his legs and attentively nods to whatever drunk Luhan says.
“Screw our dreams of domestic bliss. Fuck, fuck everything. Fuck the system.” Luhan screams in the nearly desolated living room. Sehun knows when to question Luhan and when to keep his mouth closed, now is good time for the latter.
Sehun squeezes his hand, a show of support no matter what. Luhan would have eyed it cautiously, but he’s not quite in control of his motor actions. He tries to down in a few more shots before he passes out.
(Luhan dreams, for the first time in a long while.
He’s barefooted in a wide field and standing right next to him is Minseok. Both of them are grinning at each other, hands locked tightly. Minseok tugs him across the field, and they stop at a shallow stream, the waters were shining different colors. He cups the water with his free hand, and the colors turned black.
Luhan jumps, but Minseok is there to hold him. “It’s alright.” He says without a hitch, still smiling at Luhan. Luhan eases his hold, and Minseok takes him under a giant tree with a lot of green moss growing on the bark, and they sit on a stump next to it.
The sun disappears without Luhan noticing, as he’s engrossed in a light conversation with Minseok. He laughs so easily and so freely, Luhan can’t help but follow along.
A firefly buzzed between them, joining his friends across the field. This time, Luhan pulls Minseok towards them, but Luhan steps on a branch and he remembers. The flickering lights of fireflies in the distance stills, and Luhan notices that they’re stars, not fireflies.
“Are we going to fly now?” Minseok asks, pure innocence reflected in his eyes. It leaves Luhan confused, an aching feeling in his chest.
“What do you mean, Minseok?”
“We’re going to fly, when the stars pour out of the sky. We should prepare ourselves!”
“That’s impossible. Stars can’t pour out from the sky,” Luhan snorts at Minseok, the ache growing impossibly painful by the second.
“I can’t seem to read you.” Minseok’s smile is gone, and a worried frown mars his features. He inches forward, one cautious step at a time until they’re face to face, noses brushing. “It feels like I don’t know you.”
“What?” Luhan stood there, not knowing what to do. He closes his eyes and breathes in the air, and truly remembers. Minseok in a hospital bed, hooked up to life support. Minseok saving his soul mate. Minseok is going to die.
“Kiss me,” he whispers against Minseok’s lips. His body is cold, except the hand Minseok is holding; it’s burning, but Luhan doesn’t let go. “Under these stars, we’re in forever.” He lies. “So kiss me, kiss me because we’re under these stars, kiss me, Minseok. Kiss me,” and then Minseok does.)
Luhan wakes up screaming.
Luhan goes missing for a day. He doesn’t contact anyone after leaving Sehun’s apartment. No one contacts him anyway, so how is he missing. People are only considered missing when someone notices they’re not where they’re supposed to be.
He lies on the living room floor instead of the bed. The bed sheets haven’t been changed in weeks and it probably smells like tears and dust. Not Minseok.
Luhan trails his fingertips, glides them over the leg of the coffee table. Coldness slips on the edges of his skin, despite the current warmth the heater is emitting. Recalling the morning’s scenario makes his head ache and he rolls onto his side to get the image of Sehun screaming out of his head.
“My life’s a mess. A complete wreck and yet you’re willing to sit with me and sort my shit. Sehun, this isn’t something that can be done in a single night. This isn’t going to be easy.”
“I never said it was. I’m prepared to help-“
“Do you understand what you’re saying? What you’re getting in to?”
“I’m not a kid, hyung.”
“I know you’re not, but it is nowhere your responsibility to save me-to help me.”
“I’ve waited nineteen years for you. Do you think I’d just let you waste your life after I’ve waited nineteen fucking years for you? Call it selfish but I want to protect what’s mine. Minseok hyung can’t-”
“Yours? Oh Sehun, I am not yours. I don’t belong to you.”
“You’re my soul mate!”
“So what? It doesn’t make me want you or love you more than a brother, a sibling! Get it in your head, Sehun. Don’t hurt yourself pinning for something that you can’t have.”
“You’re my soul mate.”
“For God knows why,” Luhan gives up, throws in the towel. They’ve reached an agreement before, so why is Sehun being a stubborn brat?
“It’s not fair.”
“Life has never been fair,” Luhan takes a long drag from the cigarette, and crushes it with the heel of his shoes. “The system has never been fair. We’re all doomed.”
Luhan lives with so much regrets. He regrets disappointing his parents and leaving them. He regrets being born as someone else’s soul mate. He regrets not being the one to paint Minseok’s world. He regrets not being able to stop Minseok’s parents. He regrets, regrets, regrets.
He tries to sleep. Sleep is his refuge now. It’s where Minseok is well, and they can have forever with them, can be each other’s painters. In dreams, possibilities are endless. ‘How’ doesn’t matter, all that matters is them.
Maybe when Luhan falls asleep on the floor, he’ll get a backache when he wakes up, but if it means he can dream of Minseok again, where they could fly around the world hand in hand, kissing, and being together, then it’s worth it.
When sleep takes him, he doesn’t dream of Minseok. Everything is static black.
Luhan only leaves the apartment on Friday, he doesn’t bother to dress up, he’s not attending a funeral. He’s not attending anyone’s funeral.
He gets there before Jongdae, before anyone else. It’ll be a while before they arrive, so he takes his usual place next to Minseok and tells him everything he has to say. He doesn’t stop, even when Jongdae and Minseok’s parents come with along with a few nurses and Minseok’s doctor.
“We could have been so much more, Minseok. Remember when I said I didn’t believe in soul mates because I believed in you? Good God, Minseok, you mean so much more, and I’m sorry if I wasn’t able to say these to you for you to hear. I’ve failed you in so many ways that I even thought you’d give up on me, but you didn’t. You still loved me. You loved me, Minseok. Took care of me and pulled me together.”
Luhan ticks off everything he’d miss in a neat checklist at the back of his head. Dates. Movie nights. Cuddles. Kisses. Minseok. Oh god, Minseok.
“This isn’t my choice to make, Minseok. I-I will always love you, more than I could possibly love another person again. You know that, right?” Please let this be a good choice, letting his parents do this.He prays.
Stepping back, he watches Minseok’s parents sign the euthanasia waiver. Luhan tries to tear his eyes away from the doctor reaching out to stop all the machinery,
Minseok's life support, but it’s making his head ache. Luhan focuses on the way
Minseok’s chest heaves, until it comes to a stop and he lies there, unmoving.
“Kim Minseok. Time of death, eleven twenty-two.” Luhan lost all his tears already, and if he genuinely had any left, it would surely have dropped even before the doctor made a move to shut down everything. Luhan feels empty, hollow. The colors around him, a mocking contrast to the situation, are bright and vibrant. If he could color himself right then, he’d douse himself in thick black ink.
Colors have lost its meaning to Luhan.
Next to him, Jongdae has his eyes closed, hands balled into fists by his sides. “It’s done. You can open your eyes, Jongdae.”
“I’m waiting for the beeping to stop.”
“Whatever suits you,” he hugs Jongdae before he leaves the room, bowing slightly at Minseok’s parents. “I’m sorry for your colors, Jongdae.”
Cold autumn rain pelts the leaf covered gravel. The smell of dried and dead grass isn’t something Luhan appreciates; he’ll rather trade it for something else. He wants to drop everything he has and take a bus across town just to see how rain drops on the pitiful waves as if he hasn’t seen them countless of times.
Rainy strolls on beaches remind him of sweet smiles, coffee dates, and a warm cuddles under the blanket while on another movie marathon. And of Minseok.
But today is different, and being whimsical isn’t an appropriate thing on Minseok’s death anniversary. He folds the umbrella, letting the freezing beads of water slip down the back of his neck, his face, and his entire body, soaking him through the fabric of his clothes.
“Minseok,” Luhan tries the name on his lips. It’s been a while since he said it, and he feels ashamed of that fact. It’s not like he’s trying to forget Minseok. It’s just that he wants to move forward, to not be dragged back by the past. Minseok will be proud of him because he’s helping a lot of people now, that he’s back in school, and that he’s somehow made up with his parents back in Beijing.
Moving on is hard, no one said it would be easy. Luhan busies himself with good things and slowly, gradually, he becomes healthier and more like his old self. (Everything’s alright.)
“I love you.” He carefully traces Minseok’s name on the gravestone with his fingers. It’s been only a year after Minseok’s parents decided to stop his life support, but Luhan also counts the four years Minseok stopped talking, stopped moving, stopped giving Luhan his crooked smiles, and stopped holding his hand and telling him hushed promises of ‘it’s okay, i’m here’.
Three words could sum up everything Luhan needs to say right at that moment. However it’s also those three words that he wasn’t able to say often enough to Minseok. He hasn’t said it enough, it’s not enough. So he adds a ‘wherever you are, minseok, please be happy. please, please, be happy because you deserve to be. you don’t need to watch over me, okay? i can manage. until then, when i’m old and maybe rotting and withering on a bed ,i want to be able to go to where you are, and maybe we’d be born in the same world again, but this time as soul mates.’
Luhan sighs, checking his wristwatch. It’s almost night time, and if he doesn’t come home soon, Sehun’s going to worry like a good dongsaeng he should be.
He clears the pastel lilac he left last time and places a rose in its place, thorns long gone. “See you.” Luhan says, leaving with a less heavy heart.
more a/n: the concept for soulmates being color blind before meeting isn't my original idea. i saw this on tumblr and thought up of a long ass taohun au but then xiuhan came in like a wrecking ball. i wanted to credit the post beforehand however i also wanted to base the real ending from the prompt where Jongdae dropps an apple in the middle of shopping because the apple was in monochrome. aka minseok died without him knowing. or smth weird like that. (originally titled paint me in crimson.)
(no words can describe how done i am with this au. it's been fun, though. hope you enjoy!)