Amaranthine (1/2)
Title: Amaranthine (1/2)
Pairing(s): Baekhyun/Chanyeol, side Kyungsoo/Sehun
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Soulmate!au, Romance, Angst.
Warnings: swearing, Chanyeol being a romantic sap
Word count: 19,541
Disclaimer: The celebrities' names/images are merely borrowed and do not represent who the celebrities are in real life. No offense is intended towards them, their families or friends. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this fictional work. No copyright infringement is intended.
Summary: Baekhyun longed to be a star, so he could become a part of his universe. To Chanyeol, he was the moon, shimmering so exquisitely in the night sky.
Author's Notes: Written for BAE2016.
“What if… I can’t find you?”
“I’ll look for you, even in the most elusive edges, through the wafting of the first glimmer of day to the faint ague of night.”
The night is cold. It doesn’t add up to the fact that Baekhyun feels so warm. A drenching humidity molds into him like a second skin, staining even the unreachable spots. This foreign feeling has discerned a natural habit which undergoes lucid with time. He breathes in the fragments of lost memories and fails to assemble the scattered pieces together so as to fathom the owner of the voice calling his name with a drip of tenderness, the face that no matter how hard he hassles to recognize, ends up in a blur that leaves him at a loss.
The palpable scent of life wafts through the brightly lit room, rows of freshly watered flower bouquets shimmering contrasting hues offer a sense of serenity; dark figures can be captured from the reflection of the glass, blurring gradually from the youth’s evident drowsy state, long lashes fan softly over his rosy cheeks. His shift-or rather, their shift-has just begun.
“Earth to Baekhyunnie.” A light chuckle and warm arms drift him off from his reverie. He pouts when those same frail looking yet firm limbs dishevel his blond hair, silently basking in the gesture. “You’re so out of it.”
Baekhyun shakes his tilted head, stretching his limbs clad in a navy pullover. “Don’t worry about it, Joo.”
The female coos at the younger’s wide eyes, manicured hands gripping ripped jeans. “What’s the matter? Couldn’t sleep well because you had a nightmare?”
“You guessed wrong. It’s rather… embarrassing, so this mouth will stay zipped.” As if on emphasis, the boy’s dainty hands form a zipping gesture to his pursed lips.
Joohyun rolls her eyes, “You’re no fun.”
Baekhyun shuts his eyes in defeat, “Just-wait till we finish our shift and I’ll think about it, yeah?”
“I’m busy tonight,” she conveys with finality.
Baekhyun is used to it by now. How naive of him to believe that for a moment his sister had changed.
“Busy? Busy as in hanging out with your junkie group of friends?”
Joohyun clicks her tongue, “Kinda blunt, are we?”
“Sometimes I wonder…whatever happened to you,” the boy’s mouth curls up into a bittersweet grin. “But then, I realize you’ve always kept things from me. I’m not as innocent as you think.”
The girl looks down at the ground, subconsciously fiddling with the hem of her stripped sweater.
“I understand it’s hard, but there are other ways to deal with…hardships.” Baekhyun offers a timid shrug.
“You know nothing, kid,” Joohyun spits out. “Don’t act like you’re more experienced. You have no right to order me how to live my fucking life.”
Before he can stop himself, a tear rolls down his cheek. Don’t cry, he chides himself. How more gullible could he get? Forgive him for giving a shit about his sister’s whereabouts.
Baekhyun wipes his falling tears with his cotton sleeve, leaving his pale face flushed.
“You’re not the only one who feels lonely.” Baekhyun says, dashing to the front door before he lets her see him in his most vulnerable state. He hates crying. He hates being weak. For the most part, he hates himself.
It shouldn’t hurt as much as it does, Baekhyun thinks. The aching words running in his head like a mantra keep him caged in this current state of idleness. Everything just comes shattering down, gradually smothering the haze of what used to be.
As he heads out of the flower shop, his mind feels dizzy upon being hit by the rush of cold air. He wraps his arms around himself, trying to calm his quickened breath. He keeps his eyes downcast- careful so as to not bump into anyone-in order to avoid curious looks and fabricated concern of strangers. It’s futile, for his heart seems to betray him, teeth drawing blood on his lips so as to deter his deplorable quivering and the sobs threatening to slip from his mouth in any moment.
He carries his feeble body with the help of the crisp wind, choosing to rest on a park nearby, coincidentally found just in the middle of the woods, Baekhyun is too dazed to step out of his reverie and ponder just how he got this far from the shop-his home. But then again, it’s a small town and it’s possible that he walked across four blocks to get where he’s at now. He slumps down on a secluded bench located in front of a sparkling pond, shutting his eyes and rejoicing in the eerie quietness of the place. That is, until the sound of a fallen branch breaking catches his unfocused attention, causing him to straighten his posture and dart wary eyes around the woods, pausing just in his frontal field of vision. A man clad in a black coat is found crouching down, facing the body of water and possibly hell-bent on feeding what looked like ducks. Baekhyun watches this scene in a daze, thinking his tired state is playing tricks with his mind, hence the hallucinations as the side effect. After rubbing his eyes, he expects to find nothing but is taken aback when the same figure is looming over the pond, showing off his great stature despite the distance there’s between him and the stranger. The man turns slightly, letting the boy admire a fragment of his features and take his breath away all the same; his profile is handsome, from his tall nose to his jet black locks moving in sync with the wind. He shoves his hands into the pockets of his ebony trench coat, and saunters off his sight, leaving him with a sense of dread and anticipation.
He was hooked. He was absorbed by his unfathomable aura-his side view was the only thing on his mind since last Saturday-the day he saw him for the first time. Since then, He started to encounter him in his dreams, wondering what his face looked like, how tall he was, what his interests were, and whether he’d see him again.
Baekhyun wakes up with a spark of newfound motivation inside him, he almost forgets about the argument he and his sister had days ago, too engrossed in the feelings bubbling up his stomach at the thought of seeing him.
After showering and shrugging on one of his favorite green sweaters, he dashes out of the house, sighing when he feels wet drops sticking to his clothing. He runs off to find shelter, crying internally for thinking that leaving his umbrella behind was a good idea. This had to happen the day he planned to look just a tad more decent.
He admits at this moment he’d rather amble to the woods to see if he’ll somehow gather luck and find the man for a second time, instead of standing idle beneath an oxidized rooftop. Besides, it doesn’t help at all the fact that he’s currently freezing to death. Looks like the world is going against his former plans. Perfect.
The truth is, this new interest has distracted him from what’s going on in his life: his beloved mother, his sister, and his own struggles. Even so, he considers himself an optimist by heart, he’s a keen believer that every one should find happiness even in the most desolated corner, in the insignificant and ordinary. Although it may sound far-fetched, he thinks there is good in everyone, and it’s not really difficult for him to empathize with other people, hence why he chose to major in Psychology. At the current age of 20, his thoughts gravitate towards the prickling sensation that sinks in his stomach whenever the future is brought up. He’s hopeless, and he’s clearly aware of this fact, moreover there are moments like right now, when he finds himself cuddled up in pristine sheets, thin fingers grasping a plate filled with a slice of cheesecake, fork fizzling on snatching a mouthful, all thanks to being too engrossed in his romantic comedy movie marathon. He’s practically whining for the heroine to grow some courage and stop being so damn indecisive when the sound of the doorbell ringing disrupts his internal ruckus. He pauses the movie and narrows his eyes to see if by any chance the sound was a product of his imagination, when the buzz recoils through the ivory walls. Baekhyun tilts his head, wondering who could be waiting at the other side of the door, more so at this ungodly hour. The ebony sky offers a sense of dread and watches him intently with its blinding pallid eye.
He doesn’t know how to react when a body falls over him the moment he opens the door.
His eyes turn wide open when flickers of recognition run through his system. He helps the body stand, clammy palms grasping weakly the back of his neck.
“Hold on, we’re almost there.” Baekhyun turns worriedly to the brunette, gently moving locks from her sweaty forehead.
Upon reaching his sister’s room, he kicks the door open and hastily lets her frail body fall on the mattress like a stray feather on a bed of leaves.
Baekhyun runs his hands through his now disheveled blond curls, wary orbs scanning the female’s body from head to toe. He starts by unclasping the heels from her swollen feet, followed by changing her clothing from the skimpy dress to a fresh pair of old sweatpants and an oversized shirt, before draping her shivering body with a blanket. He’s about to leave when Joohyun utters a word that almost causes him to break down right in that moment.
“Sorry…”
With one last meaningful glance towards the sleeping lump he shuts the door.
The sound of the birds chirping and the dazzling sunset tell him a secret, accompanied by a faint whisper. They put him in a spell and cause his wobbly limbs to walk by themselves until he’s perfectly aware of his surroundings, darting his eyes to look above the rows of trees and the sapphire lake where he saw him. He drags his feet closer to the woods, and looks down in disappointment when he finds no sign of the male, the eerie quietness welcoming once again. He’s about to run back to his house when the sound of splattering coming from the water freeze him in place. He crouches behind a tier of bushes and lifts his head, just a tad enough to have a decent view of the lake without being seen. His body leans forward when his vision makes out a figure swimming underneath the water, knuckles turning white at the sudden apprehension filling his senses. A shaky hand comes to cover his mouth when he’s on the brink of uttering a sound of surprise the second the person’s face surges from the water, hands pushing back raven locks, revealing the same profile of the man in the black coat from last Saturday.
His heart forgets how to work the moment he stares at the wonder that is his face.
Baekhyun is so engrossed in imprinting every feature of his face into the deepest creases of his mind-in case he doesn’t see his beautiful face for a third time, thus he fails to process the juncture the male fully emerges from the water, beads dripping everywhere and evoking the blond’s heart to freeze. His instincts scream at him to run and don’t look back, but he opts that hiding behind one of the forest’s trees is a better option for now. He wants to savor this moment for just a while more.
He doesn’t dare to look at his bare body, flushing just at the thought. His eyes slid open once again to find a stray white cat staring up at him with a keen intensity. He jumps back and tries to calm the unsteady beating of his heart, maintaining a fixed stare competition with the small animal, as if that was going to work in order to keep the cat quiet.
He turns away to look at the male and blushes profusely at the image. This is not good for his heart. Not at all.
The cat howls and Baekhyun knows he’s dead meat. The man turns to look around in search of the source of the noise, thus he takes the opportunity to sprint and do what the little voice in his head had told him from the start.
*: ･ﾟ✧*: ･ﾟ✧
“So you’re telling me you saw Adonis?”
It’s a warm autumn day, the sky resembling a painting that Baekhyun wants to frame so he can be able to stare up at it without his eyes watering and shutting from the intensity of the sun rays. Today is a school day, hence why he couldn’t visit the forest in hopes of encountering the man for the third time. He finds himself seated beneath the cover of one of the oak trees the campus is surrounded with. He needed to let his flutter of excitement out and his best friend Sehun, an architecture major, is the best option for venting out his recent infatuation.
“Not exactly. But I’d say he’s close enough.”
Sehun splutters, “Who in their right mind showers in a lake?”
Baekhyun shrugs, stuffing a bite of strawberry donut into his mouth.
“Moreover, I can’t believe this coming from you, Byun,” Sehun says, crinkling his nose in distaste.
“I assure you I didn’t ogle at him! I just wanted to see his face properly.”
“You saw him while he showered!”
“I didn’t- “
Sehun raises his hands in surrender. “Alright, I get it. You aren’t a pervert.”
Baekhyun nods.
“You’re a stalker.”
Baekhyun sighs, patting the taller’s head just the way he knows the younger absolutely hates. “You’re a great friend, Sehun.”
The latter brushes his hand away. “You’re still doing that,” Sehun points at the pink sweater Baekhyun is wearing.
Baekhyun looks down at his lap, fiddling with the hem of the pullover before looking up and offering the male a fond smile. It made his heart clench in his chest, knowing that people notice small details about him. Of course, Sehun is his best friend-having met each other the first day of high school-and it’s the least he should know about him, but still, it makes him feel special, loved. It’s a reminder that he’s not alone, that there are people out there who still care for him.
It’s the fourth year since he started carrying out this custom-he realized it made him feel protected and it reminded him of his mother all the same. Baekhyun remembers yearningly the memories he keeps close of his mother explaining to him that flowers were just like people: they came in different shapes and colors, but they were all beautiful nonetheless. She taught him about the language of flowers and about the color palette she used in her paintings. Depending on his mood, Baekhyun chooses a color that fits his aura for each day, just like today, he chose to wear pink. Pink, the color of sweetness, innocence…love. Not to mention, it makes him feel rather foolish and naive. Great.
When he arrives to his house, Baekhyun walks up the stairs and rushes to his bedroom, where he starts by scanning his drained reflection through the mirror. Shrugging on a cardigan and grabbing one of his psychology books, he dashes out the room and prays that this opportunity won’t be taken to waste.
The view of the rows of trees towering over him should come off as intimidating, but with the soft wind breeze fanning his blond fringe over his face makes him feel all the more comforted, the air resembling a timid yet earnest caress. He opts to close his book after noticing his eyes drooping and watering from the drowsiness, suddenly gripping his hands on the wooden surface when he’s hit with an unfathomable twinge that makes him self-conscious, even with the uncanny lull enveloping him.
Baekhyun brings his calm orbs to the sky that has turned a cerulean hue, bringing a sudden heart-wrenching feeling to his chest. He’s grown accustomed to it, yet he’s never known the exact reason as to why he feels a void, as if his insides were sucked out and all that was remaining was flesh and bone. He doesn’t understand a lot of things, actually. His birthmark, for example, a star cluster located on his ankle that has recently been itching for no apparent reason at all. It’s rather notorious, for he chooses to hide it beneath long jeans and sealed shoes. He doesn’t really tell anyone, that’s the thing about him, he bottles everything up until his feelings come spilling at once, creating a tragic mess. A mess no one-included himself-has bothered to clean up.
He lets out a sigh and decides to crawl closer to the pond, choosing to settle down on the slightly moist grass and gaze at the stars. They really are breathtaking, he thinks. When he was younger, he longed to be a star, for he regarded them as beautiful, untouchable, and he imagined viewing the world from up there, thus he used to be especially fond of his birthmark at that time, when his surroundings happened to be lighted up in a pastel tint and what he feared the most seemed to be out of reach. He can’t deny it anymore-everyday is like a battle, having to gulp down the unbearable anguish, to face life without his mother’s genuine words of encouragement and her sweet forehead kisses. He barely notices the salty drops running down his cheek. Why is he so damn sensitive? The stars and the faint blowing of the wind somehow bring him comfort, making his breathing even and causing his clammy hands to free their sturdy grip from the strands of the grass.
“Essentially, we’re stars.” The male whispers to Baekhyun’s ear tenderly.
“The blood flowing through our veins contains a protein that has four iron atoms incorporated into its structure called hemoglobin. Iron is usually produced in one place; it can only be forged in the core of dying stars.” .
He catches hold of a lock of his brown hair, twirling it between his fingers before tucking it behind his ear, touch lingering. .
“In other words, we’re made of stardust. You could say you’re a star.” .
Baekhyun wakes up with a smile etched onto his features, feeling unexplainably lighter for no apparent reason. Then, he hears chirping. He slid his eyes open, feeling the grazing of the gust against his face. He’s on the verge of crawling out the leafy cot, when he runs his hands over a heavy cloth covering his frame, eyes turning wide upon realizing that someone must have left their coat to enfold him out of pity. He’s practically teetering on his heels, he can’t think straight, mind becoming a fuss, with just one thought in mind: to get home safely. He drapes the coat over his shoulders and basks in the comforting warmth radiating from it.
When he’s finally inside the secure cream colored confines of his room, Baekhyun takes a good look at the cotton twill material, truth to be told, he doesn’t like to fool himself with unrealistic assumptions, but it doesn’t hurt to pretend the owner of the coat is actually the man that has been the object of his dreams, the one person that has made his heart flutter with a sense of hopefulness. He hugs the coat close to his chest, pressing his crinkling nose to the ebony material in order to inhale the scent of cologne and cocoa, putting him into an instant trance.
I’ll seek for your familiar fragrance
in every life that I encounter
a new star will be added
to the constellation tattooed on my chest;
don’t let go of my hand,
I yearn every day that you won’t forget my existence,
for I breathe everything that is you.
An enduring gleam. The light after a much dreaded darkness that grants an umbra the right path they belong to. One can have a myriad of inquiries filling their heads to the brim, foreseeing answers yet refraining from allowing light to shed on them, too afraid to be judged.
In a way, people are like galaxies, scads of strewed flickers plastered in different sizes and shapes. The unequivocally truth is, some will always stand out from the rest-moreover, if one refers to the matter of seeking out for the motive as to why you find yourself breathing in the gush of spring air, why your heart keeps pumping blood. The answer for this array of thoughts finds itself engraved on flesh. The sanguine yet bittersweet feeling of your soul being connected to another, of feeling their presence at the minimum itch on skin, sparkles tattooing themselves on each other’s body gradually and then all at once.
Chanyeol muses this theory with the wisdom he’s acquired over the lapse of time, crisp blow swathing his frame as the reminiscence of the much needed embrace he longs for. His eyes seem to wander around the eerie venue, a nostalgic aura seems to wash over him as he can’t help but yearn delicate hands that hold him close-warm orbs that exhibit light, tender beams that cause his heart to clench in utter fondness.
He ambles down the rugged road, knowing the path to his home by heart, letting the sounds of the night offer him a mellow company. He wraps his arms around himself, in an attempt to warm himself up but to no avail, mouth slightly curling up at reminiscing the sleeping figure back in the forest. He feels his stomach sink in remorse for having left the boy alone in the woods, but then again, he didn’t feel with the right to wake him up, much less carrying him to his home, opting for draping his shivering body with his dark trench coat. With one last longing glance, he had left behind the blond haired angel and the fixed flaring of his heart that haunted him for what seemed like an eternity.
The first time Chanyeol met Baekhyun, or more exactly, the first encounter he remembers and enshrines the juncture in the deepest voids of his heart seems like a blur yet it still tugs at his heartstrings. The moment he took notice of the fact that his partner couldn’t be able to remember him in every life caused a great impact on him. The nightmares are constant; sleepless nights due to waking up panting and breathless, running out of energy to just go on with his life somehow made him stronger and more determinant to find him at all costs. And with every intake of breath, every gush of air, every blink of an eye he’d be a step closer to make the one who his heart belonged to eternally acknowledge his calling for once. Truth to be told, there were some occasions when Baekhyun was the first one to seek him out instead of the other way around, these moments were special, they gave Chanyeol a new flicker of hopefulness, that someday he could remember him-them.
That night, he stands stark naked in front of the full body mirror lying idly in his room. The sight that greets him looks drowsy, the only aspect of him he can truly recognize are the marks decorating his firm chest. His calloused hands trace the shape of the constellations, circling the vivid galaxies surrounding his skin. His finger stops on the most recent mark, a small star located in his collarbone. He strives to turn the frown on his chapped lips upside down to no avail. He opts for calling it a day, wrapping his arms around himself as silent comfort, yearning for Baekhyun’s sleeping body next to him, to be able to hold him and savor him one more time.
The next morning, Chanyeol wakes up with the help of the obnoxious buzz of his alarm, followed by the whiff of batter cake drifting through the ajar entry to his room. He stretches his rather long limbs, rubbing the drowsiness out of his troubled eyes. He opens the drawer of the small desk next to his bed, rummaging through its contents, eyes glittering in utter adoration upon coming into contact with coldness. His right hand grips the gold bracelet with a clasped dainty star in the center. His thumb runs across every edge and peak, clutching the delicate pendant into a fist. I love you, Byun Baekhyun.
Knocking back some sense into his mind, Chanyeol carefully sets the chain back into the drawer, starting off his day just like every other.
“Breakfast is ready!” A female voice chirps.
“Coming,” he whispers behind his breath, closing the drawer with a thud.
Chanyeol is an only child. His parents think this is the main reason that arouse his aloof and rather undisturbed demeanor, opting to stay in the quiet, for it somehow brings him comfort and better access to his scattered thoughts. Thoughts that happen to gravitate towards literature, fate, and stars, truthfully.
He feels a tinge of remorse every time he looks at his parents, wonders if he could’ve maybe been a better son for them, he hopes it’s not too late to change the picture they have engraved of him. He scoffs. He would dislike himself, too. He shakes the array of thoughts away, slumping down on the wooden chair of their dining table. His father is currently sat two seats away from him, scanning what could only be the monthly receipt, or so he figures from his hunched shoulders and furrowed brow. His mother sends a worried glance at the huddled figure as she places the plate of homemade pancakes in front of him, quickly morphing into a smile when he makes eye contact with her warm orbs. Chanyeol offers a weak attempt of an elated expression, resulting in a mere twitch of the curls of his mouth.
Chanyeol saunters to the door, stopping in his tracks when he hears his name being called and a dainty hand pressed against his back.
“Are you not wearing your coat?”
“Uh- I…I left it at my friend’s house.”
“Are you going to meet your friend today? It’s pretty brisk outside.”
He nods. His mother stares at him, and Chanyeol feels sweat break down his forehead, for a moment he thought she had seen right through his lie, but to his relief, she fixes a stray lock of hair from his face, pecking his forehead. “Take care.”
“Good luck in school!” His father waves at him, and Chanyeol feels a sinking on his stomach.
The lean boy stays silent, though a genuine glimmer paints his face.
As he arrives to the school’s venue, he covers his head with the hood of his sweatshirt, gliding his way through the horde of people so he can get just on a decent time to his first class. He’s a literature major, hence his way with words-no pun intended-and his affinity towards being alone. Whenever he has the time, he writes letters. He exposes his utter soul into the pristine paper, inking the words with the unshed tears and welled up emotions. Poems are his favorite. He likes to think that in another time-this life, perhaps-he would be able to recite these cluster of words into his beloved’s ear, sing him to sleep and create alluring melodies that made up for his lack of wording when it came to Baekhyun. The fair skinned, beautiful boy-Chanyeol is certain, no matter how many centuries transcend-will still take his breath away with every meeting.
Your lovely scent seeps me into a state of reverie, which allows me to display your intoxicating features into an endless film.
Chanyeol is not antisocial, per se, yet his mind is constantly absorbed in thinking, often than not forgetting about his surroundings. He doesn’t really fit in to the present social circles, anyway. You could say he lives in the past. As he tends to bask in the beauty of the little things, he doesn’t really get along well with technology. He prefers wasting a whole day locked in reading a complete collection of whatever topic in the school’s library over obtaining the answers in a mere second thanks to the facilities that grant the internet. Just like right now, he’s in the middle of his literature research, the sheer sound of the turning pages lulling him gradually.
“Yo.”
He jumps back at the rowdy edge of the voice disrupting his tranquil state of mind.
“Easy there. I’m pretty sure I don’t bite.”
Chanyeol presses his lips together, taking serious effort in ignoring the other’s presence in his special place.
“Hey,” the shrill noise of the scraping chair is enough to test his patience. “I’m Kyungsoo.”
Chanyeol tunes out, imagining Baekhyun sitting next to him instead of the boy with large eyes.
“Mind to help a friend out and tell him where the law aisle is at?”
“Aisle K, just behind you,” he offers in a clipped tone.
“Oh!” Kyungsoo snickers, looking at the stack of books in distaste. “I’m a law major.”
No shit.
“You’re not supposed to raise your voice in here.”
“What are you reading?” the doe eyed male breaks his imaginary bubble of personal space and barges into it, skimming through the different titles and the heap of books placed systematically on the mahogany table.
Chanyeol nestles the book he’s currently skimming close to his chest. “It’s for my class research. I got assigned Greek mythology.”
“That sounds interesting…I’m guessing you’re a Literature major?”
He nods.
Kyungsoo claps in victory. “That’s right. My instincts never disappoint.”
The male’s height-he notices-is rather lacking, and his fashion choices can be questioned, considering the work field he’s going to embark in the future. But hey, who is he to judge other people’s choices. It’s not like being able to read into his past lives is going to grant him anything at all. Nothing matters so long as the person he treasures the most is oblivious to his existence.
“…As swell as this talk has been, It’s my time to run now.”
Chanyeol rolls his eyes in response.
“Aw, don’t miss me too much, yeah?” the male chuckles, grabbing the book he guesses the other was originally looking for. “I gotta pick up this stray pup from his daily moping session and just as every pet, they require constant attention and love, you know?”
Chanyeol creases his brow, wondering just how can someone be so bright at this ungodly time of the day. “I don’t.”
His words fall on deaf ears, as the other elaborates with a glint of amusement. “He looks like a puppy, my friend. Just wait till you see him, he’s the most adorable. Small and bubbly. Perfect combination, if you ask me.”
“…Sehun, on the other hand, is the epitome of a reincarnated noodle. Never knew pasta could look this handsome. Downfall: he’s a sarcastic asshole.”
Chanyeol watches silently the incessant drumming of his fingers, feigning interest as he looks up only to zone out on the male’s rather thick eyebrows. Silence, Fucking finally.
The smaller man’s face suddenly lights up like a Christmas tree without notice. This isn’t good. “You know what, I’ll let you meet them yourself.”
Chanyeol fidgets in his seat, pondering about what good could bring this person into his life and the potential benefits of getting attached to a group of people. Who knows? Perhaps wandering outside his bubble of personal thoughts will somehow gravitate him towards his fate. Images of the blond boy sleeping peacefully on the meadow, the moon highlighting his angelic features- looking incredibly soft when he sleeps, creating an imaginary halo above his light golden locks.
“Alright…” he mutters behind his breath.
He doesn’t realize he’s suddenly standing up, before being forcefully dragged away by another pair of strong hands.
What could possibly go wrong with a tad change in his life? Truthfully, he seeks any type of comfort just like every other living thing on this universe.
The shorter male brings him to the green area of the campus. His vision is filled of towering trees, and it can’t help but remind him of the forest where he encountered him that other time. His eyes dart around, falling on the diverse groups of people scattered on the freshly cut grass.
“Don’t just stand there, come on!”
Not used to being ordered around, he crosses his arms in defense. He follows the other male until halting on his steps when he stalls just in front of one of the tables, where a stranger’s face can be found plunged down on the hard plastic cover. Kyungsoo pokes the brunet’s ribs, receiving a muffled groan as a response. He sighs and whacks the other’s head.
“Ow, what the fuck?” the male hisses, scowling when the shorter of the two ruffles his hair.
“Time to wake up, prince charming.” Kyungsoo turns around to face him, clearing his throat.
“Chanyeol, this is Sehun,” he points at the brunet shoving his hands down his jacket with a pensive look on his face. “He’s an architecture major. I’m sure you guys will get along just great.”
Sehun is quite the guy, Chanyeol notes, as said male finally ceases digging his pockets, prying a small bag filled with gummy bears. The fond look the boy gives the plastic package throws Chanyeol off guard. He must be that hungry.
Chanyeol looks back at the short male frozen in place, nodding half-heartedly.
“How nice of you to grace me with your presence,” Sehun says, popping a red candy gum.
Kyungsoo snatches a handful of gummy bears, shoving them on his mouth all at once.
“Suit yourself,” he rolls his eyes.
“We’re going to visit Baek after school.”
At this, Sehun perks up.
“I heard from his sister that he’s sick, the least we can do is show up unexpected and give him some company.”
The boy gives him an expectant look. “What do you say?”
“I’m in,” Sehun says, darting his eyes to the hunched figure. “What about you?”
Chanyeol goes slack-jawed. Are they seriously asking him to join them on a visit to their sick friend? He didn’t think people were able to trust him at first glance until now; he should thank his aloof demeanor and lack of facial gestures for neglecting him of getting into small talk in first place. It’s really nice of them to invite him when they just met minutes ago. Truth to be told, he’s curious as to what kind of person their friend is to be cherished greatly by a pair of oblivious yet genuine boys.
On their way to meet their friend, the trio take a detour to a commercial center nearby campus, grabbing a dozen of glazed and strawberry iced donuts. They bought a white cat plush toy-Chanyeol couldn’t help but snort at the thought of the boy looking just like it. He trudges behind the pair, following closely their steps with hunched shoulders. It’s a five-minute walk from the market, and another ten-minute walk to the woods. He fumbles with the hem of his black shirt, wrinkling the polyester melting in his fingertips. They come to a halt on the jagged sidewalk. Their field of vision is invaded with a chromatic hue, causing the bushes caging every edge and corner of the exterior glow with their vivid ornaments. The leafy image causes him to fall on a reverie. The house is actually a flower shop, Chanyeol later notices as the bell connected to the hinge of the alabaster door jingles, inducing him to come back to his senses. Flowers, systematically placed according to color and type watch his every movement from cream colored vases. Chanyeol doesn’t remember flower shops being this pure, or so it gives that feeling from the white walls confining the small yet snug space. On the center, a light wooden counter is found placed, where a female in her twenties is currently leaning her head on her manicured hand, idly staring off into space. From the far left corner, a dainty trail of polished stairs travels to a second floor, where he guesses the owner of the shop lives.
The brunette lifts her head up at the trudging steps of the trio, her eyes fall on the white box followed by the toy in his hands. She lifts her brow, looking him up from head to toe.
“Baekhyun!” she hollers.
“Is he okay?” Sehun speaks up first, approaching the counter with a confident stride.
“Why don’t you find out yourself,” the female deadpans, tucking her short locks behind her ears.
“Feisty as always. Just like your brother,” he scoffs mockingly to which the female slams her hands down on the cold marble.
“Shut up before I cut you!”
“Try me.”
“Your sarcasm kills me every time.” Kyungsoo breaks into the one sided argument, clutching his stomach. “He’s just playing with you, Joohyun.”
“He’s upstairs.” she sighs, rubbing her temples as she trudges out of the door.
“Don’t worry about her, she’s always either too confident or too cranky.”
Chanyeol shrugs. Everyone has their bad days, thus he had just the luck of meeting her on what looked like her worst. Not that he really cares, truthfully.
They paddle their way to the second floor, wooden steps creaking in a not so pleasant manner with every plod they take.
“Baek,” Kyungsoo knocks on the ivory door. “Are you there?”
“We know you’re in- “
“Boo!” A boy in a blue oversized sweater and sweatpants slings the door open, along with soft features, crinkling button nose, rosy cheeks, flimsy frame, pouty lips. Chanyeol is getting carried away with an array of prior buried emotions. Finally, he gazes at those umber eyes that haven’t met his yet.
“Come in! I’m not sorry for the mess,” Baekhyun blows a kiss at the pair.
“Are you seriously okay?!” Kyungsoo steps into the blond’s personal bubble-what else is new-in order to cradle his face in his hands, making the other widen his eyes.
“I-I yes, I got a minor cold. Sister’s overprotective. Long story,” the male crinkles his nose and Chanyeol tightens his hands into fists.
The pair go inside the living room, not before Sehun gathers the smaller boy’s frame in his arms and pecks his head. The sight that they leave him is of a clearer and much closer view of Baekhyun. This time, their eyes meet.
He knows he wins nothing from knowledge. It only brings him gruesome pain, obliviousness. He could recite one of the myriad of poems resting idly on the farthest corners of his mind, but the thing is: he knows. It makes him bite back his tongue and pretend that the person standing in front of him in all of his human glory is not related to him. Chanyeol is used to it, so the least he can do is pretend, and let the person he loves find happiness. A state of bliss without his presence. Let his body imprint itself with the bittersweet remarks that no matter how hard he strives-it comes back to him. He wants to make him remember, yet his selflessness always wins. It stings, watching his orbs flicker with a sense of faint recognition before they quickly shift to a neutral gaze. The boy is smiling, though the sparkle never reaches his eyes-not when it comes to him. One could call it unrequited love, for a lack of better wording.
Hope is what keeps him going. Like a dim source of light that prevents a flower from withering.
“Um… Hi.” Oh, how he dearly missed that sound.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have come,” Chanyeol turns his back to him, perhaps it’s better to run now than regret it later with attachment to someone that would never look at him in the same light.
He’s about to take the first step downstairs, when the soft melody speaks up once again, “Wait.”
He jerks his head to look up at him.
“You can stay.”
Chanyeol definitely wasn’t expecting anything from those simple three words, that somehow were about to turn his life upside down in a not so distant future.
*: ･ﾟ✧*: ･ﾟ✧
The ivory walls caging him cause him to feel nude, as if everyone could see right through his soul and his most vulnerable spots. He swallows the lump in his throat.
The group is scattered on the wooden floor, eating away the last remnants of the saccharine looking pastry. Chanyeol doesn’t really have a mind at the moment to find a shred of appetite in his system. Sehun and Kyungsoo are swept with relief by knowing that their friend is in a good condition. Eventually, they offer to take him out, as it didn’t hurt to make a quick visit to the coffee shop two blocks down.
Chanyeol tries to pay no mind to the way his heart skips a beat the moment the blond grasps his left arm in a blaze of feebleness. It doesn’t really help at all, feeling sweat trickle down his forehead in a poor attempt to calm his heart doing somersaults at the pleasure of the fluttering touch of his hand against his clothed skin.
“Hey,” Chanyeol carefully nuzzles the boy’s cheek, his hand melting at the contact. It’s too soft. “We’re here.”
Halfway through the stroll, Baekhyun had gradually leaned his head on his shoulder, unconsciously messing with his rapid breathing and a whirlwind on his stomach. He still makes those yelping sounds when he’s falling asleep, as if he couldn’t possibly get even more adorable in the taller’s eyes.
The blond’s eyes open faintly, blinking rapidly as a mechanism to fight drowsiness. He looks utterly beautiful like this, umber eyes staring off into space, golden locks thrashing in sync with the blowing wind.
Baekhyun sniffs the cloth of his jacket, crinkling his nose before widening his orbs.
“Sorry,” he clears his throat, darting his eyes everywhere except at his now distancing figure. It’s painfully awkward-not like he wasn’t expecting any better.
“It’s fine…”. I didn’t really mind the weight of your body against mine.
“My head was very heavy, wasn’t it?” Baekhyun buries his face in his hands, hiding the increasing blush emerging from his cheeks.
Chanyeol snorts. He’s blind to the effulgence of his own umbra, failing to discern the spell he cast on him forevermore.
“Not at all.”
the stars remind me of you
their glimmer reminds me of your smile,
alabaster hue of your porcelain skin.
you shine so brightly yet you aren’t aware
of how breathtaking you are.
After a week or so of striving to avoid being left alone in the male’s presence, Baekhyun finally gives up-it’s not as embarrassing as he had thought to begin with, just casually falling asleep on the shoulder of a stranger. An almost stranger. With really comfortable shoulders, and a piercing gaze that made the hair on his nape stand and his knees to wobble helplessly.
He’d be a fool to not admit that he finds the jet black haired male attractive, his presence itself evokes an afflictive churn on his stomach. It doesn’t help that he happens to resemble the man he encountered in the woods. That’s exactly the source of his current troubled state of mind, the foregoing meeting bringing back an indescribable hue that blurred his senses. Baekhyun hasn’t seen him in the lapse of two weeks, fourteen days, 366 hours. It’s akin to drowning his whole body down an endless mass of water, unable to come back to earth in order to take his first inhale of life. The thought of it is utterly absurd, yet so horrifyingly true. He blames it on his background, whatnot, his mother was gone as rapid as the searing of the incessant fire smoldering with its stride the utmost pieces.
A rustling sound faintly distracts him from his stray of thoughts, effectively darting his wide orbs to the now crouching figure slumping down beside him smoothly. Nectar drips down his sun kissed skin, lighting his face in an amber tinge. The whisk moving the tree’s leaves resembles an earnest caress, not quite yet drunk on the blinding image standing still and stoic, unaware of the unstoppable rail of craving trailing down his spine and inducing a turmoil on his entrails.
“Am I bothering you?”
“Huh?”
“Never mind.”
Baekhyun picks up on the male’s intentions and he immediately shakes his head.
“About that,” Baekhyun coughs in a poor attempt of stifling his nervous chuckle. “I kind of zoned out.”
Seems like the roles have been reversed, as Baekhyun can feel eyes burning holes on his side profile. He can practically feel the sweat prickling down his face, the colossal pimple he so desperately wanted to pop this morning, the not so flattering bags under his eyes-needless to say, it wouldn’t necessarily hurt to disappear right in that moment.
The turmoil momentarily ceases, evoking a sigh of relief from the blond. Are they destined to share awkward silences and stolen glances for the rest of eternity? Or are they going to become closer in the blink of an eye that not even his friends could succeed to butt in their shenanigans? Baekhyun hopes it’s the latter.
“I’ve always wondered… Why is it that we always find it so easy to find our own flaws, but it’s never quite complicated to admire the beauty of everything else?”
“Hm. I guess it depends.” Baekhyun looks deep in thought at the other male’s quirky ear, the pointy edge to it that somehow gives the taller boy an elfish look. “Sometimes, it’s easier to fall for someone else’s flaws than love our own.”
Chanyeol nods, a somber tint spreading over his face. He internally curses, just when the other was finally opening up to him.
“Can I…ask you something?”
Chanyeol shrugs, looking up at the prior clear blue sky now an ashen hue, “Shoot.”
“Have you personally experienced that feeling? Of hating your guts and despising the image greeting you in the mirror every morning, but finding yourself with the inexplicable feeling of thrive with every inch and fragment of someone else?”
“You talk about it like you’ve experienced it yourself,” Chanyeol muses.
I might have, and I still do.
Baekhyun meets Chanyeol’s eyes and finds traces of molten nostalgia in them, a flicker of a stronger emotion glimmers momentarily before the taller builds a wall so high that all he can do is stare hopelessly at the male regaining his former stoic expression.
“I think that’s enough talk about feelings,” Baekhyun stretches his numb limbs nonchalantly. “The atmosphere has turned quite gloomy now.”
“You’re right,” If Baekhyun is seeing correctly, he would’ve swore he saw the corner of Chanyeol’s mouth curling up ever so slightly. “Seems like even the sky has immersed in our affliction.”
“Gosh, you’re so poetic,” Baekhyun dramatically lets his hand fall on his forehead with a sigh.
“So I’ve been told,” Chanyeol chuckles.
Turns out that the source of Chanyeol’s use of strong wording and the casual reverie the male tends to fall into essentially come from the fact that he’s a Literature major. Chanyeol tells him poems are his usual and effective way to let his feelings out, he even invites the latter to try it out sometime. He’s touched by the genuine concern of the other, though he’s not really good at writing his thoughts down, he would rather speak them out. Baekhyun also learns that he’s incredibly fond of astronomy, which sends a bittersweet jolt across his body. He strives to neglect the painful throbbing pulsating from his ankle-more specifically-his star cluster birthmark.
Specks begin to kiss his clothed skin, raindrops falling deftly around the darkened venue.
“Let’s go,” Chanyeol holds Baekhyun hand and guides him to the nearest entrance, that is until he realizes the smaller boy is left stranded on the gradually dampened grass. His expression turns clueless at the frozen state of the blond. He’s about to knock some sense into him when Baekhyun lets out the sound of birds chirping out of his mouth. His laugh is certainly enchanting; it pulls him in a trance that he can’t ever get out of.
His airy steps hypnotize his senses, the elegant swaying of his hips and the delicate movements of his hands that seem to be inviting him to come forward. If only.
Baekhyun starts to spin below the sprinkling tears falling from the sky. He never stops grinning, his now wet hair sticking to his forehead and Chanyeol thinks, he’s so beautiful like this. His eyes meet his sparkling orbs, and he brings a dainty hand towards him. Chanyeol doesn’t hesitate in taking it into the warmth of his bigger palm.
It’s sloppy to say the least, he steps on his feet for the umpteenth time-even so, Baekhyun helps him by guiding his movements and shortly after, they start spinning together. Chanyeol is so caught up in the moment, his hands place themselves naturally on the curve of his waist, pulling him closer.
Chanyeol is hit by an array of immersing thoughts. Is this the right thing to do? Wouldn’t he get hurt afterwards, with the aftertaste of rejection and the never-ending storm disturbing his state of mind when he’s around. He needs to get his priorities straight. For now, he’ll enjoy whatever bond they’re currently developing without spilling accidentally the caged feelings threatening his being with each passing day.
“We should probably get going,” he tugs at the smaller boy’s frail arm, stopping in the process when he realizes Baekhyun is looking at him with wide eyes.
“Look at your hair!”
Chanyeol flips the long raven locks sticking to his face. “It’s a mess. Riveting.”
“You look like a kicked puppy!” He points at him before falling on the ground, evolving laughter that should probably irk him but instead bring out the faintest fond sparkle in his eyes.
“Does that make me your puppy?”
What in the world was he thinking when he decided that saying that was totally acceptable, considering the fact that he’s forgetting they just met days ago?
Then again, it’s not like their relationship is the epitome of conventional either.
Glimmering orbs glint with a dab of mischief, directing at him the warmest eye smile tugging at his heartstrings and causing his stomach to drop-so long as he’s able to appreciate the beautiful sight that’s in front of him, Chanyeol doesn’t mind staying miserable for the rest of his life.
“Yes, you are.”
Mine.
*: ･ﾟ✧*: ･ﾟ✧
“Why don’t you dye your hair pink? I think it would suit you best,” Chanyeol adds casually to their conversation, breaking Baekhyun off from his stupor. The pair decided to visit a small coffee shop two blocks away from Baekhyun’s house. The same coffee shop where the small youth had almost fallen asleep on his shoulder, waking the formerly idle butterflies on his stomach. They’re sitting facing each other, and he doesn’t miss the lingering look Baekhyun gives him occasionally. He mentally fist-pumps the air in victory; Chanyeol admits wearing a dress shirt was indeed a good idea after all.
“Hmm. I’d never thought of trying that color before.”
“That’s strange,” Chanyeol says, clicking his tongue.
“How so?”
“People should look like their personalities. Take for example, myself. My hair is as black as my soul.”
Baekhyun snorts, muffling his laugh behind the flimsy sleeve of his white sweater.
“What makes you think that pink is a color that suits me?”
Chanyeol shrugs, “Must be your aura.”
“Oh, really now.” The blond stares at him for what seems like an eternity, loosening the one sided tension when he looks sideways, rolling his eyes. “Are you some kind of medium?”
Chanyeol ponders whether it’s a good idea to do something about the bread crumble lying still on the corner of Baekhyun’s mouth. Because it’s downright driving him bonkers. He may be mysterious but much to his dismay, that didn’t make him smooth.
He leans closer, just enough to catch the spark in Baekhyun’s eyes, the mole decorating the upper corner of his pouty lips. The cream satin napkin jolts in the grip of his clammy palm. He keeps a locked stare on him, enticed by the fanning of his lashes.
“I’ll take that as a yes-hmm?”
Chanyeol dabs the porcelain skin with the cloth, too lost striving to get inside the other’s universe to notice the crumb had already fallen off.
“I’m trying to figure out what’s going on inside your head.” Beautiful, at that. But that’s enough sappiness for him and he really doesn’t need to give his real feelings away that easily.
“And how’s that going?”
“You’re a paradox.”
The sunrays filter through the open curtain, creating a golden hue on Baekhyun’s skin, making his eyes appear a shade lighter. He throws his head back, totally thrown off guard by Chanyeol’s blunt statement, masking it off with a nervous fit of laughter.
“You’re incredible.”
“I hope that means a good thing.”
Baekhyun ruffles the male’s raven locks, and he scowls lightly before his face morphs into a grin.
“Of course it is, you fool.”
After they take separate routes, Baekhyun trudges down the rugged road, moving his limbs in sync with the whisper of the wind and taking his steps to the rhythm of the birds’ melody. Occasionally spinning around, Baekhyun sees the world in a different perspective, a blur of chromatic disarray welcomes his vision and throws him off balance, plopping down on the hard ground.
He needs to get a proper grip of himself. He grabs his phone from his back pocket and texts the person who has made his days brighter with his selfless, genuine actions, transparent words that make his heart go into cardiac arrest, a feeling he’s never had in his 20 years of existence, surprising himself at how close they’ve gotten in the lapse of weeks.
Hi (・∀・)
From: Chanyeol
What’s up?
I’ve changed my mind. Are you free?
From: Chanyeol
Yes.
Okay. Good ^o^
From: Chanyeol
I’ll pick you up.
Oh, you don’t have to.
From: Chanyeol
I do. Wait for me. I’ll be at your place at 6.
okay (´･ω･`)
Thank you, really.
Baekhyun is so engrossed in the mystery that is Park Chanyeol, the chat window with the other male still opened, he can’t help but grow fond with his mannerisms and the way his words are brief yet are still capable of putting a smile on his face. His stomach does a somersault and he decides, it’s enough thinking about feelings for today. He doesn’t notice the figure standing on the frame of his agape door, idly watching his frame quivering from his recent frenzy. He lies down on his back, painting vivid galaxies on the white ceiling with the grazing of the fathomless corners of his mind.
“What’s gotten you so worked up?”
Baekhyun jumps, blanching at the stern look Joohyun throws his way.
“Nothing.” He fumbles with his pockets, hiding his phone behind his back.
“Do you think I’m that dense?” Joohyun scoffs. “I just heard you giggling. Byun Baekhyun, is this what I think it is?”
The blond male tilts his head. “…What?”
“Seriously, you act like such a high-schooler. It’s not even funny.”
“You act like a granny struggling through her menopause, but you don’t see me complaining,” he blurts out, wincing lightly after realizing the venom of his words.
“Anyway, I need to get ready,” Baekhyun sighs, internally panicking when he darts his orbs to the wall watch. “My friend is coming to pick me up in less than 15 minutes.”
Joohyun frowns, recalling the long haired male wearing all black from the time Baekhyun called in sick. “Is this friend the weird guy who came to visit you with Sehun and Kyungsoo?”
Baekhyun’s stomach churns in a mixture of annoyance and disappointment. She’s so wrong in judging his friend without any given reason. Looks shouldn’t matter, at least Baekhyun has the pleasure to know what Chanyeol is really like. To him, he’s beautiful inside-out. A unique creature that stumbled on Baekhyun’s life impromptu and unconsciously made his days just a tad brighter. “His name is Chanyeol, and he’s not weird. He’s pretty great, actually.”
“Is he the reason why you’re so jumpy these days?”
Baekhyun blows air out of his cheeks, “Why do you care!”
Joohyun stares at him with utter sadness pouring from her eyes, “I just-I care about you, okay?”
“Is that it? Then, show me!” he cries.
“I don’t want you to get hurt.” Joohyun slides her thumb across his glossy skin, picking up a flowing tear he didn’t realize he’d shed. “I’m sorry. These past years have clouded the former me, and I know I’ll never be able to make it up for you. I have been the worst.”
Her orbs resemble crystals, so breathtaking yet so frail, he’s afraid she’ll break when he’s not looking.
“I guess people are right when they say we end up hurting the people we love the most.”
“Joohyun…” Baekhyun whispers.
“I miss mom; you know?” Joohyun lets her head down, short chestnut locks fanning across her rosy cheeks. “Every. Fucking. Day.”
“I know… I miss her, too.” Baekhyun looks up into the once vivid galaxies now turned a silvered hue. “Still, that doesn’t count as a valid reason to release your anger on me.”
Joohyun curves the corner of her lip dejectedly, wetting her chapped lips.
“I really am sorry. I know being sorry isn’t enough, so I’ll strive to become the older sister she hoped for me to be.”
“It’s okay, Joo,” he carefully tucks a stray lock of hair behind her ear, smiling fondly at her swollen eyes. “I’m not the perfect brother, either.”
Baekhyun cradles her head, letting it fall on his shoulder, cooing softly and murmuring an array of ‘it’s okay’ and ‘I love you’ on her ear, causing the girl to choke on her tears and crash her body into his. An elongating warmth spread through them, and in that moment, he swore they became one.
“You’re early,” Baekhyun breathes, plucking a roving string from his ivory knit sweater.
“I like to arrive on time,” Chanyeol shrugs. He nods towards a satin black bicycle lying idly on the rugged concrete. “Ready?”
Baekhyun sputters, “Wait… you’re kidding, right?”
“I’m afraid not.”
Baekhyun side eyes the stoic looking male. How can he look so calm? “How am I supposed to fit in there?!”
“Just… hold on tightly... to me?”
If Baekhyun were on his right mind at the moment, he would’ve thought that Chanyeol, despite his cold as winter demeanor, has a cute side to him.
“I’ll never grow tired of saying this,” Baekhyun mutters, “You’re incredible, Park Chanyeol.”
Pairing(s): Baekhyun/Chanyeol, side Kyungsoo/Sehun
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Soulmate!au, Romance, Angst.
Warnings: swearing, Chanyeol being a romantic sap
Word count: 19,541
Disclaimer: The celebrities' names/images are merely borrowed and do not represent who the celebrities are in real life. No offense is intended towards them, their families or friends. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this fictional work. No copyright infringement is intended.
Summary: Baekhyun longed to be a star, so he could become a part of his universe. To Chanyeol, he was the moon, shimmering so exquisitely in the night sky.
Author's Notes: Written for BAE2016.
“What if… I can’t find you?”
“I’ll look for you, even in the most elusive edges, through the wafting of the first glimmer of day to the faint ague of night.”
The night is cold. It doesn’t add up to the fact that Baekhyun feels so warm. A drenching humidity molds into him like a second skin, staining even the unreachable spots. This foreign feeling has discerned a natural habit which undergoes lucid with time. He breathes in the fragments of lost memories and fails to assemble the scattered pieces together so as to fathom the owner of the voice calling his name with a drip of tenderness, the face that no matter how hard he hassles to recognize, ends up in a blur that leaves him at a loss.
The palpable scent of life wafts through the brightly lit room, rows of freshly watered flower bouquets shimmering contrasting hues offer a sense of serenity; dark figures can be captured from the reflection of the glass, blurring gradually from the youth’s evident drowsy state, long lashes fan softly over his rosy cheeks. His shift-or rather, their shift-has just begun.
“Earth to Baekhyunnie.” A light chuckle and warm arms drift him off from his reverie. He pouts when those same frail looking yet firm limbs dishevel his blond hair, silently basking in the gesture. “You’re so out of it.”
Baekhyun shakes his tilted head, stretching his limbs clad in a navy pullover. “Don’t worry about it, Joo.”
The female coos at the younger’s wide eyes, manicured hands gripping ripped jeans. “What’s the matter? Couldn’t sleep well because you had a nightmare?”
“You guessed wrong. It’s rather… embarrassing, so this mouth will stay zipped.” As if on emphasis, the boy’s dainty hands form a zipping gesture to his pursed lips.
Joohyun rolls her eyes, “You’re no fun.”
Baekhyun shuts his eyes in defeat, “Just-wait till we finish our shift and I’ll think about it, yeah?”
“I’m busy tonight,” she conveys with finality.
Baekhyun is used to it by now. How naive of him to believe that for a moment his sister had changed.
“Busy? Busy as in hanging out with your junkie group of friends?”
Joohyun clicks her tongue, “Kinda blunt, are we?”
“Sometimes I wonder…whatever happened to you,” the boy’s mouth curls up into a bittersweet grin. “But then, I realize you’ve always kept things from me. I’m not as innocent as you think.”
The girl looks down at the ground, subconsciously fiddling with the hem of her stripped sweater.
“I understand it’s hard, but there are other ways to deal with…hardships.” Baekhyun offers a timid shrug.
“You know nothing, kid,” Joohyun spits out. “Don’t act like you’re more experienced. You have no right to order me how to live my fucking life.”
Before he can stop himself, a tear rolls down his cheek. Don’t cry, he chides himself. How more gullible could he get? Forgive him for giving a shit about his sister’s whereabouts.
Baekhyun wipes his falling tears with his cotton sleeve, leaving his pale face flushed.
“You’re not the only one who feels lonely.” Baekhyun says, dashing to the front door before he lets her see him in his most vulnerable state. He hates crying. He hates being weak. For the most part, he hates himself.
It shouldn’t hurt as much as it does, Baekhyun thinks. The aching words running in his head like a mantra keep him caged in this current state of idleness. Everything just comes shattering down, gradually smothering the haze of what used to be.
As he heads out of the flower shop, his mind feels dizzy upon being hit by the rush of cold air. He wraps his arms around himself, trying to calm his quickened breath. He keeps his eyes downcast- careful so as to not bump into anyone-in order to avoid curious looks and fabricated concern of strangers. It’s futile, for his heart seems to betray him, teeth drawing blood on his lips so as to deter his deplorable quivering and the sobs threatening to slip from his mouth in any moment.
He carries his feeble body with the help of the crisp wind, choosing to rest on a park nearby, coincidentally found just in the middle of the woods, Baekhyun is too dazed to step out of his reverie and ponder just how he got this far from the shop-his home. But then again, it’s a small town and it’s possible that he walked across four blocks to get where he’s at now. He slumps down on a secluded bench located in front of a sparkling pond, shutting his eyes and rejoicing in the eerie quietness of the place. That is, until the sound of a fallen branch breaking catches his unfocused attention, causing him to straighten his posture and dart wary eyes around the woods, pausing just in his frontal field of vision. A man clad in a black coat is found crouching down, facing the body of water and possibly hell-bent on feeding what looked like ducks. Baekhyun watches this scene in a daze, thinking his tired state is playing tricks with his mind, hence the hallucinations as the side effect. After rubbing his eyes, he expects to find nothing but is taken aback when the same figure is looming over the pond, showing off his great stature despite the distance there’s between him and the stranger. The man turns slightly, letting the boy admire a fragment of his features and take his breath away all the same; his profile is handsome, from his tall nose to his jet black locks moving in sync with the wind. He shoves his hands into the pockets of his ebony trench coat, and saunters off his sight, leaving him with a sense of dread and anticipation.
He was hooked. He was absorbed by his unfathomable aura-his side view was the only thing on his mind since last Saturday-the day he saw him for the first time. Since then, He started to encounter him in his dreams, wondering what his face looked like, how tall he was, what his interests were, and whether he’d see him again.
Baekhyun wakes up with a spark of newfound motivation inside him, he almost forgets about the argument he and his sister had days ago, too engrossed in the feelings bubbling up his stomach at the thought of seeing him.
After showering and shrugging on one of his favorite green sweaters, he dashes out of the house, sighing when he feels wet drops sticking to his clothing. He runs off to find shelter, crying internally for thinking that leaving his umbrella behind was a good idea. This had to happen the day he planned to look just a tad more decent.
He admits at this moment he’d rather amble to the woods to see if he’ll somehow gather luck and find the man for a second time, instead of standing idle beneath an oxidized rooftop. Besides, it doesn’t help at all the fact that he’s currently freezing to death. Looks like the world is going against his former plans. Perfect.
The truth is, this new interest has distracted him from what’s going on in his life: his beloved mother, his sister, and his own struggles. Even so, he considers himself an optimist by heart, he’s a keen believer that every one should find happiness even in the most desolated corner, in the insignificant and ordinary. Although it may sound far-fetched, he thinks there is good in everyone, and it’s not really difficult for him to empathize with other people, hence why he chose to major in Psychology. At the current age of 20, his thoughts gravitate towards the prickling sensation that sinks in his stomach whenever the future is brought up. He’s hopeless, and he’s clearly aware of this fact, moreover there are moments like right now, when he finds himself cuddled up in pristine sheets, thin fingers grasping a plate filled with a slice of cheesecake, fork fizzling on snatching a mouthful, all thanks to being too engrossed in his romantic comedy movie marathon. He’s practically whining for the heroine to grow some courage and stop being so damn indecisive when the sound of the doorbell ringing disrupts his internal ruckus. He pauses the movie and narrows his eyes to see if by any chance the sound was a product of his imagination, when the buzz recoils through the ivory walls. Baekhyun tilts his head, wondering who could be waiting at the other side of the door, more so at this ungodly hour. The ebony sky offers a sense of dread and watches him intently with its blinding pallid eye.
He doesn’t know how to react when a body falls over him the moment he opens the door.
His eyes turn wide open when flickers of recognition run through his system. He helps the body stand, clammy palms grasping weakly the back of his neck.
“Hold on, we’re almost there.” Baekhyun turns worriedly to the brunette, gently moving locks from her sweaty forehead.
Upon reaching his sister’s room, he kicks the door open and hastily lets her frail body fall on the mattress like a stray feather on a bed of leaves.
Baekhyun runs his hands through his now disheveled blond curls, wary orbs scanning the female’s body from head to toe. He starts by unclasping the heels from her swollen feet, followed by changing her clothing from the skimpy dress to a fresh pair of old sweatpants and an oversized shirt, before draping her shivering body with a blanket. He’s about to leave when Joohyun utters a word that almost causes him to break down right in that moment.
“Sorry…”
With one last meaningful glance towards the sleeping lump he shuts the door.
The sound of the birds chirping and the dazzling sunset tell him a secret, accompanied by a faint whisper. They put him in a spell and cause his wobbly limbs to walk by themselves until he’s perfectly aware of his surroundings, darting his eyes to look above the rows of trees and the sapphire lake where he saw him. He drags his feet closer to the woods, and looks down in disappointment when he finds no sign of the male, the eerie quietness welcoming once again. He’s about to run back to his house when the sound of splattering coming from the water freeze him in place. He crouches behind a tier of bushes and lifts his head, just a tad enough to have a decent view of the lake without being seen. His body leans forward when his vision makes out a figure swimming underneath the water, knuckles turning white at the sudden apprehension filling his senses. A shaky hand comes to cover his mouth when he’s on the brink of uttering a sound of surprise the second the person’s face surges from the water, hands pushing back raven locks, revealing the same profile of the man in the black coat from last Saturday.
His heart forgets how to work the moment he stares at the wonder that is his face.
Baekhyun is so engrossed in imprinting every feature of his face into the deepest creases of his mind-in case he doesn’t see his beautiful face for a third time, thus he fails to process the juncture the male fully emerges from the water, beads dripping everywhere and evoking the blond’s heart to freeze. His instincts scream at him to run and don’t look back, but he opts that hiding behind one of the forest’s trees is a better option for now. He wants to savor this moment for just a while more.
He doesn’t dare to look at his bare body, flushing just at the thought. His eyes slid open once again to find a stray white cat staring up at him with a keen intensity. He jumps back and tries to calm the unsteady beating of his heart, maintaining a fixed stare competition with the small animal, as if that was going to work in order to keep the cat quiet.
He turns away to look at the male and blushes profusely at the image. This is not good for his heart. Not at all.
The cat howls and Baekhyun knows he’s dead meat. The man turns to look around in search of the source of the noise, thus he takes the opportunity to sprint and do what the little voice in his head had told him from the start.
*: ･ﾟ✧*: ･ﾟ✧
“So you’re telling me you saw Adonis?”
It’s a warm autumn day, the sky resembling a painting that Baekhyun wants to frame so he can be able to stare up at it without his eyes watering and shutting from the intensity of the sun rays. Today is a school day, hence why he couldn’t visit the forest in hopes of encountering the man for the third time. He finds himself seated beneath the cover of one of the oak trees the campus is surrounded with. He needed to let his flutter of excitement out and his best friend Sehun, an architecture major, is the best option for venting out his recent infatuation.
“Not exactly. But I’d say he’s close enough.”
Sehun splutters, “Who in their right mind showers in a lake?”
Baekhyun shrugs, stuffing a bite of strawberry donut into his mouth.
“Moreover, I can’t believe this coming from you, Byun,” Sehun says, crinkling his nose in distaste.
“I assure you I didn’t ogle at him! I just wanted to see his face properly.”
“You saw him while he showered!”
“I didn’t- “
Sehun raises his hands in surrender. “Alright, I get it. You aren’t a pervert.”
Baekhyun nods.
“You’re a stalker.”
Baekhyun sighs, patting the taller’s head just the way he knows the younger absolutely hates. “You’re a great friend, Sehun.”
The latter brushes his hand away. “You’re still doing that,” Sehun points at the pink sweater Baekhyun is wearing.
Baekhyun looks down at his lap, fiddling with the hem of the pullover before looking up and offering the male a fond smile. It made his heart clench in his chest, knowing that people notice small details about him. Of course, Sehun is his best friend-having met each other the first day of high school-and it’s the least he should know about him, but still, it makes him feel special, loved. It’s a reminder that he’s not alone, that there are people out there who still care for him.
It’s the fourth year since he started carrying out this custom-he realized it made him feel protected and it reminded him of his mother all the same. Baekhyun remembers yearningly the memories he keeps close of his mother explaining to him that flowers were just like people: they came in different shapes and colors, but they were all beautiful nonetheless. She taught him about the language of flowers and about the color palette she used in her paintings. Depending on his mood, Baekhyun chooses a color that fits his aura for each day, just like today, he chose to wear pink. Pink, the color of sweetness, innocence…love. Not to mention, it makes him feel rather foolish and naive. Great.
When he arrives to his house, Baekhyun walks up the stairs and rushes to his bedroom, where he starts by scanning his drained reflection through the mirror. Shrugging on a cardigan and grabbing one of his psychology books, he dashes out the room and prays that this opportunity won’t be taken to waste.
The view of the rows of trees towering over him should come off as intimidating, but with the soft wind breeze fanning his blond fringe over his face makes him feel all the more comforted, the air resembling a timid yet earnest caress. He opts to close his book after noticing his eyes drooping and watering from the drowsiness, suddenly gripping his hands on the wooden surface when he’s hit with an unfathomable twinge that makes him self-conscious, even with the uncanny lull enveloping him.
Baekhyun brings his calm orbs to the sky that has turned a cerulean hue, bringing a sudden heart-wrenching feeling to his chest. He’s grown accustomed to it, yet he’s never known the exact reason as to why he feels a void, as if his insides were sucked out and all that was remaining was flesh and bone. He doesn’t understand a lot of things, actually. His birthmark, for example, a star cluster located on his ankle that has recently been itching for no apparent reason at all. It’s rather notorious, for he chooses to hide it beneath long jeans and sealed shoes. He doesn’t really tell anyone, that’s the thing about him, he bottles everything up until his feelings come spilling at once, creating a tragic mess. A mess no one-included himself-has bothered to clean up.
He lets out a sigh and decides to crawl closer to the pond, choosing to settle down on the slightly moist grass and gaze at the stars. They really are breathtaking, he thinks. When he was younger, he longed to be a star, for he regarded them as beautiful, untouchable, and he imagined viewing the world from up there, thus he used to be especially fond of his birthmark at that time, when his surroundings happened to be lighted up in a pastel tint and what he feared the most seemed to be out of reach. He can’t deny it anymore-everyday is like a battle, having to gulp down the unbearable anguish, to face life without his mother’s genuine words of encouragement and her sweet forehead kisses. He barely notices the salty drops running down his cheek. Why is he so damn sensitive? The stars and the faint blowing of the wind somehow bring him comfort, making his breathing even and causing his clammy hands to free their sturdy grip from the strands of the grass.
“Essentially, we’re stars.” The male whispers to Baekhyun’s ear tenderly.
“The blood flowing through our veins contains a protein that has four iron atoms incorporated into its structure called hemoglobin. Iron is usually produced in one place; it can only be forged in the core of dying stars.” .
He catches hold of a lock of his brown hair, twirling it between his fingers before tucking it behind his ear, touch lingering. .
“In other words, we’re made of stardust. You could say you’re a star.” .
Baekhyun wakes up with a smile etched onto his features, feeling unexplainably lighter for no apparent reason. Then, he hears chirping. He slid his eyes open, feeling the grazing of the gust against his face. He’s on the verge of crawling out the leafy cot, when he runs his hands over a heavy cloth covering his frame, eyes turning wide upon realizing that someone must have left their coat to enfold him out of pity. He’s practically teetering on his heels, he can’t think straight, mind becoming a fuss, with just one thought in mind: to get home safely. He drapes the coat over his shoulders and basks in the comforting warmth radiating from it.
When he’s finally inside the secure cream colored confines of his room, Baekhyun takes a good look at the cotton twill material, truth to be told, he doesn’t like to fool himself with unrealistic assumptions, but it doesn’t hurt to pretend the owner of the coat is actually the man that has been the object of his dreams, the one person that has made his heart flutter with a sense of hopefulness. He hugs the coat close to his chest, pressing his crinkling nose to the ebony material in order to inhale the scent of cologne and cocoa, putting him into an instant trance.
I’ll seek for your familiar fragrance
in every life that I encounter
a new star will be added
to the constellation tattooed on my chest;
don’t let go of my hand,
I yearn every day that you won’t forget my existence,
for I breathe everything that is you.
An enduring gleam. The light after a much dreaded darkness that grants an umbra the right path they belong to. One can have a myriad of inquiries filling their heads to the brim, foreseeing answers yet refraining from allowing light to shed on them, too afraid to be judged.
In a way, people are like galaxies, scads of strewed flickers plastered in different sizes and shapes. The unequivocally truth is, some will always stand out from the rest-moreover, if one refers to the matter of seeking out for the motive as to why you find yourself breathing in the gush of spring air, why your heart keeps pumping blood. The answer for this array of thoughts finds itself engraved on flesh. The sanguine yet bittersweet feeling of your soul being connected to another, of feeling their presence at the minimum itch on skin, sparkles tattooing themselves on each other’s body gradually and then all at once.
Chanyeol muses this theory with the wisdom he’s acquired over the lapse of time, crisp blow swathing his frame as the reminiscence of the much needed embrace he longs for. His eyes seem to wander around the eerie venue, a nostalgic aura seems to wash over him as he can’t help but yearn delicate hands that hold him close-warm orbs that exhibit light, tender beams that cause his heart to clench in utter fondness.
He ambles down the rugged road, knowing the path to his home by heart, letting the sounds of the night offer him a mellow company. He wraps his arms around himself, in an attempt to warm himself up but to no avail, mouth slightly curling up at reminiscing the sleeping figure back in the forest. He feels his stomach sink in remorse for having left the boy alone in the woods, but then again, he didn’t feel with the right to wake him up, much less carrying him to his home, opting for draping his shivering body with his dark trench coat. With one last longing glance, he had left behind the blond haired angel and the fixed flaring of his heart that haunted him for what seemed like an eternity.
The first time Chanyeol met Baekhyun, or more exactly, the first encounter he remembers and enshrines the juncture in the deepest voids of his heart seems like a blur yet it still tugs at his heartstrings. The moment he took notice of the fact that his partner couldn’t be able to remember him in every life caused a great impact on him. The nightmares are constant; sleepless nights due to waking up panting and breathless, running out of energy to just go on with his life somehow made him stronger and more determinant to find him at all costs. And with every intake of breath, every gush of air, every blink of an eye he’d be a step closer to make the one who his heart belonged to eternally acknowledge his calling for once. Truth to be told, there were some occasions when Baekhyun was the first one to seek him out instead of the other way around, these moments were special, they gave Chanyeol a new flicker of hopefulness, that someday he could remember him-them.
That night, he stands stark naked in front of the full body mirror lying idly in his room. The sight that greets him looks drowsy, the only aspect of him he can truly recognize are the marks decorating his firm chest. His calloused hands trace the shape of the constellations, circling the vivid galaxies surrounding his skin. His finger stops on the most recent mark, a small star located in his collarbone. He strives to turn the frown on his chapped lips upside down to no avail. He opts for calling it a day, wrapping his arms around himself as silent comfort, yearning for Baekhyun’s sleeping body next to him, to be able to hold him and savor him one more time.
The next morning, Chanyeol wakes up with the help of the obnoxious buzz of his alarm, followed by the whiff of batter cake drifting through the ajar entry to his room. He stretches his rather long limbs, rubbing the drowsiness out of his troubled eyes. He opens the drawer of the small desk next to his bed, rummaging through its contents, eyes glittering in utter adoration upon coming into contact with coldness. His right hand grips the gold bracelet with a clasped dainty star in the center. His thumb runs across every edge and peak, clutching the delicate pendant into a fist. I love you, Byun Baekhyun.
Knocking back some sense into his mind, Chanyeol carefully sets the chain back into the drawer, starting off his day just like every other.
“Breakfast is ready!” A female voice chirps.
“Coming,” he whispers behind his breath, closing the drawer with a thud.
Chanyeol is an only child. His parents think this is the main reason that arouse his aloof and rather undisturbed demeanor, opting to stay in the quiet, for it somehow brings him comfort and better access to his scattered thoughts. Thoughts that happen to gravitate towards literature, fate, and stars, truthfully.
He feels a tinge of remorse every time he looks at his parents, wonders if he could’ve maybe been a better son for them, he hopes it’s not too late to change the picture they have engraved of him. He scoffs. He would dislike himself, too. He shakes the array of thoughts away, slumping down on the wooden chair of their dining table. His father is currently sat two seats away from him, scanning what could only be the monthly receipt, or so he figures from his hunched shoulders and furrowed brow. His mother sends a worried glance at the huddled figure as she places the plate of homemade pancakes in front of him, quickly morphing into a smile when he makes eye contact with her warm orbs. Chanyeol offers a weak attempt of an elated expression, resulting in a mere twitch of the curls of his mouth.
Chanyeol saunters to the door, stopping in his tracks when he hears his name being called and a dainty hand pressed against his back.
“Are you not wearing your coat?”
“Uh- I…I left it at my friend’s house.”
“Are you going to meet your friend today? It’s pretty brisk outside.”
He nods. His mother stares at him, and Chanyeol feels sweat break down his forehead, for a moment he thought she had seen right through his lie, but to his relief, she fixes a stray lock of hair from his face, pecking his forehead. “Take care.”
“Good luck in school!” His father waves at him, and Chanyeol feels a sinking on his stomach.
The lean boy stays silent, though a genuine glimmer paints his face.
As he arrives to the school’s venue, he covers his head with the hood of his sweatshirt, gliding his way through the horde of people so he can get just on a decent time to his first class. He’s a literature major, hence his way with words-no pun intended-and his affinity towards being alone. Whenever he has the time, he writes letters. He exposes his utter soul into the pristine paper, inking the words with the unshed tears and welled up emotions. Poems are his favorite. He likes to think that in another time-this life, perhaps-he would be able to recite these cluster of words into his beloved’s ear, sing him to sleep and create alluring melodies that made up for his lack of wording when it came to Baekhyun. The fair skinned, beautiful boy-Chanyeol is certain, no matter how many centuries transcend-will still take his breath away with every meeting.
Your lovely scent seeps me into a state of reverie, which allows me to display your intoxicating features into an endless film.
Chanyeol is not antisocial, per se, yet his mind is constantly absorbed in thinking, often than not forgetting about his surroundings. He doesn’t really fit in to the present social circles, anyway. You could say he lives in the past. As he tends to bask in the beauty of the little things, he doesn’t really get along well with technology. He prefers wasting a whole day locked in reading a complete collection of whatever topic in the school’s library over obtaining the answers in a mere second thanks to the facilities that grant the internet. Just like right now, he’s in the middle of his literature research, the sheer sound of the turning pages lulling him gradually.
“Yo.”
He jumps back at the rowdy edge of the voice disrupting his tranquil state of mind.
“Easy there. I’m pretty sure I don’t bite.”
Chanyeol presses his lips together, taking serious effort in ignoring the other’s presence in his special place.
“Hey,” the shrill noise of the scraping chair is enough to test his patience. “I’m Kyungsoo.”
Chanyeol tunes out, imagining Baekhyun sitting next to him instead of the boy with large eyes.
“Mind to help a friend out and tell him where the law aisle is at?”
“Aisle K, just behind you,” he offers in a clipped tone.
“Oh!” Kyungsoo snickers, looking at the stack of books in distaste. “I’m a law major.”
No shit.
“You’re not supposed to raise your voice in here.”
“What are you reading?” the doe eyed male breaks his imaginary bubble of personal space and barges into it, skimming through the different titles and the heap of books placed systematically on the mahogany table.
Chanyeol nestles the book he’s currently skimming close to his chest. “It’s for my class research. I got assigned Greek mythology.”
“That sounds interesting…I’m guessing you’re a Literature major?”
He nods.
Kyungsoo claps in victory. “That’s right. My instincts never disappoint.”
The male’s height-he notices-is rather lacking, and his fashion choices can be questioned, considering the work field he’s going to embark in the future. But hey, who is he to judge other people’s choices. It’s not like being able to read into his past lives is going to grant him anything at all. Nothing matters so long as the person he treasures the most is oblivious to his existence.
“…As swell as this talk has been, It’s my time to run now.”
Chanyeol rolls his eyes in response.
“Aw, don’t miss me too much, yeah?” the male chuckles, grabbing the book he guesses the other was originally looking for. “I gotta pick up this stray pup from his daily moping session and just as every pet, they require constant attention and love, you know?”
Chanyeol creases his brow, wondering just how can someone be so bright at this ungodly time of the day. “I don’t.”
His words fall on deaf ears, as the other elaborates with a glint of amusement. “He looks like a puppy, my friend. Just wait till you see him, he’s the most adorable. Small and bubbly. Perfect combination, if you ask me.”
“…Sehun, on the other hand, is the epitome of a reincarnated noodle. Never knew pasta could look this handsome. Downfall: he’s a sarcastic asshole.”
Chanyeol watches silently the incessant drumming of his fingers, feigning interest as he looks up only to zone out on the male’s rather thick eyebrows. Silence, Fucking finally.
The smaller man’s face suddenly lights up like a Christmas tree without notice. This isn’t good. “You know what, I’ll let you meet them yourself.”
Chanyeol fidgets in his seat, pondering about what good could bring this person into his life and the potential benefits of getting attached to a group of people. Who knows? Perhaps wandering outside his bubble of personal thoughts will somehow gravitate him towards his fate. Images of the blond boy sleeping peacefully on the meadow, the moon highlighting his angelic features- looking incredibly soft when he sleeps, creating an imaginary halo above his light golden locks.
“Alright…” he mutters behind his breath.
He doesn’t realize he’s suddenly standing up, before being forcefully dragged away by another pair of strong hands.
What could possibly go wrong with a tad change in his life? Truthfully, he seeks any type of comfort just like every other living thing on this universe.
The shorter male brings him to the green area of the campus. His vision is filled of towering trees, and it can’t help but remind him of the forest where he encountered him that other time. His eyes dart around, falling on the diverse groups of people scattered on the freshly cut grass.
“Don’t just stand there, come on!”
Not used to being ordered around, he crosses his arms in defense. He follows the other male until halting on his steps when he stalls just in front of one of the tables, where a stranger’s face can be found plunged down on the hard plastic cover. Kyungsoo pokes the brunet’s ribs, receiving a muffled groan as a response. He sighs and whacks the other’s head.
“Ow, what the fuck?” the male hisses, scowling when the shorter of the two ruffles his hair.
“Time to wake up, prince charming.” Kyungsoo turns around to face him, clearing his throat.
“Chanyeol, this is Sehun,” he points at the brunet shoving his hands down his jacket with a pensive look on his face. “He’s an architecture major. I’m sure you guys will get along just great.”
Sehun is quite the guy, Chanyeol notes, as said male finally ceases digging his pockets, prying a small bag filled with gummy bears. The fond look the boy gives the plastic package throws Chanyeol off guard. He must be that hungry.
Chanyeol looks back at the short male frozen in place, nodding half-heartedly.
“How nice of you to grace me with your presence,” Sehun says, popping a red candy gum.
Kyungsoo snatches a handful of gummy bears, shoving them on his mouth all at once.
“Suit yourself,” he rolls his eyes.
“We’re going to visit Baek after school.”
At this, Sehun perks up.
“I heard from his sister that he’s sick, the least we can do is show up unexpected and give him some company.”
The boy gives him an expectant look. “What do you say?”
“I’m in,” Sehun says, darting his eyes to the hunched figure. “What about you?”
Chanyeol goes slack-jawed. Are they seriously asking him to join them on a visit to their sick friend? He didn’t think people were able to trust him at first glance until now; he should thank his aloof demeanor and lack of facial gestures for neglecting him of getting into small talk in first place. It’s really nice of them to invite him when they just met minutes ago. Truth to be told, he’s curious as to what kind of person their friend is to be cherished greatly by a pair of oblivious yet genuine boys.
On their way to meet their friend, the trio take a detour to a commercial center nearby campus, grabbing a dozen of glazed and strawberry iced donuts. They bought a white cat plush toy-Chanyeol couldn’t help but snort at the thought of the boy looking just like it. He trudges behind the pair, following closely their steps with hunched shoulders. It’s a five-minute walk from the market, and another ten-minute walk to the woods. He fumbles with the hem of his black shirt, wrinkling the polyester melting in his fingertips. They come to a halt on the jagged sidewalk. Their field of vision is invaded with a chromatic hue, causing the bushes caging every edge and corner of the exterior glow with their vivid ornaments. The leafy image causes him to fall on a reverie. The house is actually a flower shop, Chanyeol later notices as the bell connected to the hinge of the alabaster door jingles, inducing him to come back to his senses. Flowers, systematically placed according to color and type watch his every movement from cream colored vases. Chanyeol doesn’t remember flower shops being this pure, or so it gives that feeling from the white walls confining the small yet snug space. On the center, a light wooden counter is found placed, where a female in her twenties is currently leaning her head on her manicured hand, idly staring off into space. From the far left corner, a dainty trail of polished stairs travels to a second floor, where he guesses the owner of the shop lives.
The brunette lifts her head up at the trudging steps of the trio, her eyes fall on the white box followed by the toy in his hands. She lifts her brow, looking him up from head to toe.
“Baekhyun!” she hollers.
“Is he okay?” Sehun speaks up first, approaching the counter with a confident stride.
“Why don’t you find out yourself,” the female deadpans, tucking her short locks behind her ears.
“Feisty as always. Just like your brother,” he scoffs mockingly to which the female slams her hands down on the cold marble.
“Shut up before I cut you!”
“Try me.”
“Your sarcasm kills me every time.” Kyungsoo breaks into the one sided argument, clutching his stomach. “He’s just playing with you, Joohyun.”
“He’s upstairs.” she sighs, rubbing her temples as she trudges out of the door.
“Don’t worry about her, she’s always either too confident or too cranky.”
Chanyeol shrugs. Everyone has their bad days, thus he had just the luck of meeting her on what looked like her worst. Not that he really cares, truthfully.
They paddle their way to the second floor, wooden steps creaking in a not so pleasant manner with every plod they take.
“Baek,” Kyungsoo knocks on the ivory door. “Are you there?”
“We know you’re in- “
“Boo!” A boy in a blue oversized sweater and sweatpants slings the door open, along with soft features, crinkling button nose, rosy cheeks, flimsy frame, pouty lips. Chanyeol is getting carried away with an array of prior buried emotions. Finally, he gazes at those umber eyes that haven’t met his yet.
“Come in! I’m not sorry for the mess,” Baekhyun blows a kiss at the pair.
“Are you seriously okay?!” Kyungsoo steps into the blond’s personal bubble-what else is new-in order to cradle his face in his hands, making the other widen his eyes.
“I-I yes, I got a minor cold. Sister’s overprotective. Long story,” the male crinkles his nose and Chanyeol tightens his hands into fists.
The pair go inside the living room, not before Sehun gathers the smaller boy’s frame in his arms and pecks his head. The sight that they leave him is of a clearer and much closer view of Baekhyun. This time, their eyes meet.
He knows he wins nothing from knowledge. It only brings him gruesome pain, obliviousness. He could recite one of the myriad of poems resting idly on the farthest corners of his mind, but the thing is: he knows. It makes him bite back his tongue and pretend that the person standing in front of him in all of his human glory is not related to him. Chanyeol is used to it, so the least he can do is pretend, and let the person he loves find happiness. A state of bliss without his presence. Let his body imprint itself with the bittersweet remarks that no matter how hard he strives-it comes back to him. He wants to make him remember, yet his selflessness always wins. It stings, watching his orbs flicker with a sense of faint recognition before they quickly shift to a neutral gaze. The boy is smiling, though the sparkle never reaches his eyes-not when it comes to him. One could call it unrequited love, for a lack of better wording.
Hope is what keeps him going. Like a dim source of light that prevents a flower from withering.
“Um… Hi.” Oh, how he dearly missed that sound.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have come,” Chanyeol turns his back to him, perhaps it’s better to run now than regret it later with attachment to someone that would never look at him in the same light.
He’s about to take the first step downstairs, when the soft melody speaks up once again, “Wait.”
He jerks his head to look up at him.
“You can stay.”
Chanyeol definitely wasn’t expecting anything from those simple three words, that somehow were about to turn his life upside down in a not so distant future.
*: ･ﾟ✧*: ･ﾟ✧
The ivory walls caging him cause him to feel nude, as if everyone could see right through his soul and his most vulnerable spots. He swallows the lump in his throat.
The group is scattered on the wooden floor, eating away the last remnants of the saccharine looking pastry. Chanyeol doesn’t really have a mind at the moment to find a shred of appetite in his system. Sehun and Kyungsoo are swept with relief by knowing that their friend is in a good condition. Eventually, they offer to take him out, as it didn’t hurt to make a quick visit to the coffee shop two blocks down.
Chanyeol tries to pay no mind to the way his heart skips a beat the moment the blond grasps his left arm in a blaze of feebleness. It doesn’t really help at all, feeling sweat trickle down his forehead in a poor attempt to calm his heart doing somersaults at the pleasure of the fluttering touch of his hand against his clothed skin.
“Hey,” Chanyeol carefully nuzzles the boy’s cheek, his hand melting at the contact. It’s too soft. “We’re here.”
Halfway through the stroll, Baekhyun had gradually leaned his head on his shoulder, unconsciously messing with his rapid breathing and a whirlwind on his stomach. He still makes those yelping sounds when he’s falling asleep, as if he couldn’t possibly get even more adorable in the taller’s eyes.
The blond’s eyes open faintly, blinking rapidly as a mechanism to fight drowsiness. He looks utterly beautiful like this, umber eyes staring off into space, golden locks thrashing in sync with the blowing wind.
Baekhyun sniffs the cloth of his jacket, crinkling his nose before widening his orbs.
“Sorry,” he clears his throat, darting his eyes everywhere except at his now distancing figure. It’s painfully awkward-not like he wasn’t expecting any better.
“It’s fine…”. I didn’t really mind the weight of your body against mine.
“My head was very heavy, wasn’t it?” Baekhyun buries his face in his hands, hiding the increasing blush emerging from his cheeks.
Chanyeol snorts. He’s blind to the effulgence of his own umbra, failing to discern the spell he cast on him forevermore.
“Not at all.”
the stars remind me of you
their glimmer reminds me of your smile,
alabaster hue of your porcelain skin.
you shine so brightly yet you aren’t aware
of how breathtaking you are.
After a week or so of striving to avoid being left alone in the male’s presence, Baekhyun finally gives up-it’s not as embarrassing as he had thought to begin with, just casually falling asleep on the shoulder of a stranger. An almost stranger. With really comfortable shoulders, and a piercing gaze that made the hair on his nape stand and his knees to wobble helplessly.
He’d be a fool to not admit that he finds the jet black haired male attractive, his presence itself evokes an afflictive churn on his stomach. It doesn’t help that he happens to resemble the man he encountered in the woods. That’s exactly the source of his current troubled state of mind, the foregoing meeting bringing back an indescribable hue that blurred his senses. Baekhyun hasn’t seen him in the lapse of two weeks, fourteen days, 366 hours. It’s akin to drowning his whole body down an endless mass of water, unable to come back to earth in order to take his first inhale of life. The thought of it is utterly absurd, yet so horrifyingly true. He blames it on his background, whatnot, his mother was gone as rapid as the searing of the incessant fire smoldering with its stride the utmost pieces.
A rustling sound faintly distracts him from his stray of thoughts, effectively darting his wide orbs to the now crouching figure slumping down beside him smoothly. Nectar drips down his sun kissed skin, lighting his face in an amber tinge. The whisk moving the tree’s leaves resembles an earnest caress, not quite yet drunk on the blinding image standing still and stoic, unaware of the unstoppable rail of craving trailing down his spine and inducing a turmoil on his entrails.
“Am I bothering you?”
“Huh?”
“Never mind.”
Baekhyun picks up on the male’s intentions and he immediately shakes his head.
“About that,” Baekhyun coughs in a poor attempt of stifling his nervous chuckle. “I kind of zoned out.”
Seems like the roles have been reversed, as Baekhyun can feel eyes burning holes on his side profile. He can practically feel the sweat prickling down his face, the colossal pimple he so desperately wanted to pop this morning, the not so flattering bags under his eyes-needless to say, it wouldn’t necessarily hurt to disappear right in that moment.
The turmoil momentarily ceases, evoking a sigh of relief from the blond. Are they destined to share awkward silences and stolen glances for the rest of eternity? Or are they going to become closer in the blink of an eye that not even his friends could succeed to butt in their shenanigans? Baekhyun hopes it’s the latter.
“I’ve always wondered… Why is it that we always find it so easy to find our own flaws, but it’s never quite complicated to admire the beauty of everything else?”
“Hm. I guess it depends.” Baekhyun looks deep in thought at the other male’s quirky ear, the pointy edge to it that somehow gives the taller boy an elfish look. “Sometimes, it’s easier to fall for someone else’s flaws than love our own.”
Chanyeol nods, a somber tint spreading over his face. He internally curses, just when the other was finally opening up to him.
“Can I…ask you something?”
Chanyeol shrugs, looking up at the prior clear blue sky now an ashen hue, “Shoot.”
“Have you personally experienced that feeling? Of hating your guts and despising the image greeting you in the mirror every morning, but finding yourself with the inexplicable feeling of thrive with every inch and fragment of someone else?”
“You talk about it like you’ve experienced it yourself,” Chanyeol muses.
I might have, and I still do.
Baekhyun meets Chanyeol’s eyes and finds traces of molten nostalgia in them, a flicker of a stronger emotion glimmers momentarily before the taller builds a wall so high that all he can do is stare hopelessly at the male regaining his former stoic expression.
“I think that’s enough talk about feelings,” Baekhyun stretches his numb limbs nonchalantly. “The atmosphere has turned quite gloomy now.”
“You’re right,” If Baekhyun is seeing correctly, he would’ve swore he saw the corner of Chanyeol’s mouth curling up ever so slightly. “Seems like even the sky has immersed in our affliction.”
“Gosh, you’re so poetic,” Baekhyun dramatically lets his hand fall on his forehead with a sigh.
“So I’ve been told,” Chanyeol chuckles.
Turns out that the source of Chanyeol’s use of strong wording and the casual reverie the male tends to fall into essentially come from the fact that he’s a Literature major. Chanyeol tells him poems are his usual and effective way to let his feelings out, he even invites the latter to try it out sometime. He’s touched by the genuine concern of the other, though he’s not really good at writing his thoughts down, he would rather speak them out. Baekhyun also learns that he’s incredibly fond of astronomy, which sends a bittersweet jolt across his body. He strives to neglect the painful throbbing pulsating from his ankle-more specifically-his star cluster birthmark.
Specks begin to kiss his clothed skin, raindrops falling deftly around the darkened venue.
“Let’s go,” Chanyeol holds Baekhyun hand and guides him to the nearest entrance, that is until he realizes the smaller boy is left stranded on the gradually dampened grass. His expression turns clueless at the frozen state of the blond. He’s about to knock some sense into him when Baekhyun lets out the sound of birds chirping out of his mouth. His laugh is certainly enchanting; it pulls him in a trance that he can’t ever get out of.
His airy steps hypnotize his senses, the elegant swaying of his hips and the delicate movements of his hands that seem to be inviting him to come forward. If only.
Baekhyun starts to spin below the sprinkling tears falling from the sky. He never stops grinning, his now wet hair sticking to his forehead and Chanyeol thinks, he’s so beautiful like this. His eyes meet his sparkling orbs, and he brings a dainty hand towards him. Chanyeol doesn’t hesitate in taking it into the warmth of his bigger palm.
It’s sloppy to say the least, he steps on his feet for the umpteenth time-even so, Baekhyun helps him by guiding his movements and shortly after, they start spinning together. Chanyeol is so caught up in the moment, his hands place themselves naturally on the curve of his waist, pulling him closer.
Chanyeol is hit by an array of immersing thoughts. Is this the right thing to do? Wouldn’t he get hurt afterwards, with the aftertaste of rejection and the never-ending storm disturbing his state of mind when he’s around. He needs to get his priorities straight. For now, he’ll enjoy whatever bond they’re currently developing without spilling accidentally the caged feelings threatening his being with each passing day.
“We should probably get going,” he tugs at the smaller boy’s frail arm, stopping in the process when he realizes Baekhyun is looking at him with wide eyes.
“Look at your hair!”
Chanyeol flips the long raven locks sticking to his face. “It’s a mess. Riveting.”
“You look like a kicked puppy!” He points at him before falling on the ground, evolving laughter that should probably irk him but instead bring out the faintest fond sparkle in his eyes.
“Does that make me your puppy?”
What in the world was he thinking when he decided that saying that was totally acceptable, considering the fact that he’s forgetting they just met days ago?
Then again, it’s not like their relationship is the epitome of conventional either.
Glimmering orbs glint with a dab of mischief, directing at him the warmest eye smile tugging at his heartstrings and causing his stomach to drop-so long as he’s able to appreciate the beautiful sight that’s in front of him, Chanyeol doesn’t mind staying miserable for the rest of his life.
“Yes, you are.”
Mine.
*: ･ﾟ✧*: ･ﾟ✧
“Why don’t you dye your hair pink? I think it would suit you best,” Chanyeol adds casually to their conversation, breaking Baekhyun off from his stupor. The pair decided to visit a small coffee shop two blocks away from Baekhyun’s house. The same coffee shop where the small youth had almost fallen asleep on his shoulder, waking the formerly idle butterflies on his stomach. They’re sitting facing each other, and he doesn’t miss the lingering look Baekhyun gives him occasionally. He mentally fist-pumps the air in victory; Chanyeol admits wearing a dress shirt was indeed a good idea after all.
“Hmm. I’d never thought of trying that color before.”
“That’s strange,” Chanyeol says, clicking his tongue.
“How so?”
“People should look like their personalities. Take for example, myself. My hair is as black as my soul.”
Baekhyun snorts, muffling his laugh behind the flimsy sleeve of his white sweater.
“What makes you think that pink is a color that suits me?”
Chanyeol shrugs, “Must be your aura.”
“Oh, really now.” The blond stares at him for what seems like an eternity, loosening the one sided tension when he looks sideways, rolling his eyes. “Are you some kind of medium?”
Chanyeol ponders whether it’s a good idea to do something about the bread crumble lying still on the corner of Baekhyun’s mouth. Because it’s downright driving him bonkers. He may be mysterious but much to his dismay, that didn’t make him smooth.
He leans closer, just enough to catch the spark in Baekhyun’s eyes, the mole decorating the upper corner of his pouty lips. The cream satin napkin jolts in the grip of his clammy palm. He keeps a locked stare on him, enticed by the fanning of his lashes.
“I’ll take that as a yes-hmm?”
Chanyeol dabs the porcelain skin with the cloth, too lost striving to get inside the other’s universe to notice the crumb had already fallen off.
“I’m trying to figure out what’s going on inside your head.” Beautiful, at that. But that’s enough sappiness for him and he really doesn’t need to give his real feelings away that easily.
“And how’s that going?”
“You’re a paradox.”
The sunrays filter through the open curtain, creating a golden hue on Baekhyun’s skin, making his eyes appear a shade lighter. He throws his head back, totally thrown off guard by Chanyeol’s blunt statement, masking it off with a nervous fit of laughter.
“You’re incredible.”
“I hope that means a good thing.”
Baekhyun ruffles the male’s raven locks, and he scowls lightly before his face morphs into a grin.
“Of course it is, you fool.”
After they take separate routes, Baekhyun trudges down the rugged road, moving his limbs in sync with the whisper of the wind and taking his steps to the rhythm of the birds’ melody. Occasionally spinning around, Baekhyun sees the world in a different perspective, a blur of chromatic disarray welcomes his vision and throws him off balance, plopping down on the hard ground.
He needs to get a proper grip of himself. He grabs his phone from his back pocket and texts the person who has made his days brighter with his selfless, genuine actions, transparent words that make his heart go into cardiac arrest, a feeling he’s never had in his 20 years of existence, surprising himself at how close they’ve gotten in the lapse of weeks.
Hi (・∀・)
From: Chanyeol
What’s up?
I’ve changed my mind. Are you free?
From: Chanyeol
Yes.
Okay. Good ^o^
From: Chanyeol
I’ll pick you up.
Oh, you don’t have to.
From: Chanyeol
I do. Wait for me. I’ll be at your place at 6.
okay (´･ω･`)
Thank you, really.
Baekhyun is so engrossed in the mystery that is Park Chanyeol, the chat window with the other male still opened, he can’t help but grow fond with his mannerisms and the way his words are brief yet are still capable of putting a smile on his face. His stomach does a somersault and he decides, it’s enough thinking about feelings for today. He doesn’t notice the figure standing on the frame of his agape door, idly watching his frame quivering from his recent frenzy. He lies down on his back, painting vivid galaxies on the white ceiling with the grazing of the fathomless corners of his mind.
“What’s gotten you so worked up?”
Baekhyun jumps, blanching at the stern look Joohyun throws his way.
“Nothing.” He fumbles with his pockets, hiding his phone behind his back.
“Do you think I’m that dense?” Joohyun scoffs. “I just heard you giggling. Byun Baekhyun, is this what I think it is?”
The blond male tilts his head. “…What?”
“Seriously, you act like such a high-schooler. It’s not even funny.”
“You act like a granny struggling through her menopause, but you don’t see me complaining,” he blurts out, wincing lightly after realizing the venom of his words.
“Anyway, I need to get ready,” Baekhyun sighs, internally panicking when he darts his orbs to the wall watch. “My friend is coming to pick me up in less than 15 minutes.”
Joohyun frowns, recalling the long haired male wearing all black from the time Baekhyun called in sick. “Is this friend the weird guy who came to visit you with Sehun and Kyungsoo?”
Baekhyun’s stomach churns in a mixture of annoyance and disappointment. She’s so wrong in judging his friend without any given reason. Looks shouldn’t matter, at least Baekhyun has the pleasure to know what Chanyeol is really like. To him, he’s beautiful inside-out. A unique creature that stumbled on Baekhyun’s life impromptu and unconsciously made his days just a tad brighter. “His name is Chanyeol, and he’s not weird. He’s pretty great, actually.”
“Is he the reason why you’re so jumpy these days?”
Baekhyun blows air out of his cheeks, “Why do you care!”
Joohyun stares at him with utter sadness pouring from her eyes, “I just-I care about you, okay?”
“Is that it? Then, show me!” he cries.
“I don’t want you to get hurt.” Joohyun slides her thumb across his glossy skin, picking up a flowing tear he didn’t realize he’d shed. “I’m sorry. These past years have clouded the former me, and I know I’ll never be able to make it up for you. I have been the worst.”
Her orbs resemble crystals, so breathtaking yet so frail, he’s afraid she’ll break when he’s not looking.
“I guess people are right when they say we end up hurting the people we love the most.”
“Joohyun…” Baekhyun whispers.
“I miss mom; you know?” Joohyun lets her head down, short chestnut locks fanning across her rosy cheeks. “Every. Fucking. Day.”
“I know… I miss her, too.” Baekhyun looks up into the once vivid galaxies now turned a silvered hue. “Still, that doesn’t count as a valid reason to release your anger on me.”
Joohyun curves the corner of her lip dejectedly, wetting her chapped lips.
“I really am sorry. I know being sorry isn’t enough, so I’ll strive to become the older sister she hoped for me to be.”
“It’s okay, Joo,” he carefully tucks a stray lock of hair behind her ear, smiling fondly at her swollen eyes. “I’m not the perfect brother, either.”
Baekhyun cradles her head, letting it fall on his shoulder, cooing softly and murmuring an array of ‘it’s okay’ and ‘I love you’ on her ear, causing the girl to choke on her tears and crash her body into his. An elongating warmth spread through them, and in that moment, he swore they became one.
“You’re early,” Baekhyun breathes, plucking a roving string from his ivory knit sweater.
“I like to arrive on time,” Chanyeol shrugs. He nods towards a satin black bicycle lying idly on the rugged concrete. “Ready?”
Baekhyun sputters, “Wait… you’re kidding, right?”
“I’m afraid not.”
Baekhyun side eyes the stoic looking male. How can he look so calm? “How am I supposed to fit in there?!”
“Just… hold on tightly... to me?”
If Baekhyun were on his right mind at the moment, he would’ve thought that Chanyeol, despite his cold as winter demeanor, has a cute side to him.
“I’ll never grow tired of saying this,” Baekhyun mutters, “You’re incredible, Park Chanyeol.”