The Yellow Letters (9/9)
TITLE : THE YELLOW LETTERS (9/9)
PAIRING : KRISHAN
RATING : PG/ PG-13
WORD COUNT : 24K
After a few moments of staring at his ceiling he pulls at his backpack lying on the ground and takes out the final unopened yellow letter. It’s slightly crumpled but otherwise unharmed.
Kris traces the alpaca drawn in the corner with his finger slowly.
“Why?” the alpaca stares back him silently.
“Why didn’t you ever give me a way to write back to you?” still no answer. “Why did you write again, after such a long time?”
He feels warm just by holding the letter. “Who are you?”
Kris thinks of falling in love, of missing people, he thinks of giving up and then he thinks of the feeling of fighting for something he loves. With a final decisive breathe he rips open the yellow envelope.
He reads the letter once.
And then he reads it again.
I remember the first time I saw you. It was on a TV screen in a Hongdae electronics shop. Your hair was so blonde and your eyes were so tired. ‘chicken nae style aniya’ was the first thing I ever heard you say. I didn’t like you.
That feels likes yesterday and like 10 years ago at the same time. But this is it, the final. The last yellow letter I will ever write to you because, to be honest, I am not really sure whether you will ever want to hear from me again after reading this.
I remember the last time I saw you too. You were so close that I could feel your breath on me, I could see the want in your eyes, could count your eyelashes. We were close enough that I felt like it could last forever. But then you broke my heart.
I don’t think I was ever supposed to write those letters to you, but I did. In a way, I felt like you needed it. You were a star all along, Kris; you just needed somebody to tell you that.
At first you just intrigued me, puzzled me, got under my skin and wouldn't leave. And then I got to know you. I learned that you cared for people strongly but unassumingly, that you worked harder than anybody else at the company, I learned that you were arrogant on the outside but quiet and shy on the inside. You were so quick to praise people but reluctant to accept when praise was returned. You were quick to get attached to people but unwilling to show it. You had the kind of bull-headed determination and strength of will to keep going even when your body hurt and your eyes were drooping. And I liked it all.
You were a star all along but you thought so little of yourself that you forgot that there’s so much more in this world than hurt and loneliness. You forgot what it really means when those girls touch you, follow you, scream your name and make you flinch. Maybe they love you in all the wrong ways, but they don’t love you for all the wrong reasons. I didn’t know it back when I stood in front of Mnet last year and watched the girls shiver and willingly starve in the cold for you but I know it now.
I was never supposed to write to you, but I did. I was never supposed to meet you or become your friend, but I did. I was never supposed to see you that first time and be so insanely attracted to you that I couldn’t breathe, I wasn’t supposed to be around you practically the whole day and still write something to you the minute I got home because there were so many things left that I wanted to tell you in person but couldn’t. I was never supposed to fall in love with you, it was never meant to be, but I did. But I did and now nothing is the same anymore.
He feels his whole body tremble as images and memories fly past his eyes in jumbled flashes. His breathe stutters and his ears ring. And then all of a sudden things start to make sense, so much sense.
I don’t know what to write to you anymore. I don’t know how to look at you and not want you. I don’t know how to write to you knowing you are already in love with somebody else, I don’t know how to smile at you without wondering whether you smile back like that at the person you love too. So this is it, the final.
All I can wish for is for everything to work out for you well, every single day of your life, even if I am not around to see it all.
In case you were wondering- Chen had a fight with Floofy so he doesn’t come over as often to pee in my plants anymore, and now I just miss his smug little butt-wiggles. Oh, and also, I really am not five years old - I was born in May 1990, I’m older than you.
He stumbles out of bed and takes a few shaky steps. His head is a spinning mass of puzzle pieces.
Small yellow envelopes almost hidden among the pink- mediocre - you are special- - You know how it is easy to talk about people you have only seen around but never really met? - lithe fingers wrapped around Rubik’s cubes - twist, hop, shoulder twist, step, step, pause and now follow through with your hips - You probably know a lot more than you think you do - three hours on the phone - I like your voice - deeper but softer - - But sometimes it’s hard working around so many people when there is one person among them all that you can’t take your eyes off of - sketched alpacas and elevators that take Luhan further and further away from him - I’m in love with somebody - Luhan quit - They let 5 year olds graduate from High school now? - I’m older than you -bright yellow, bright, shinning eyes.
Then the shaking stops and Kris snatches his phone from the bedside table and takes off running. He takes off running, heart thundering in his ears but his footsteps sure, because he has somewhere important to be.
He jumps into the first taxi that comes his way and scrolls frantically through his phone to find an old text message Kyungsoo had sent him. The cab driver gives him a strange look but takes off the minute Kris rattles off the address of the place somewhere outside the main city with no questions asked. Forty anxious minutes later he pays the driver with a bunch of crumpled won notes that he unearths from his pockets and doesn’t wait to get back his change.
The air is freezing but his palms are sweaty. The neighborhood is quiet and his garden is small. He doesn’t realize that he had even forgotten to put on his shoes until he feels the pebbles from the garden digging into his soles. No wonder the cab driver looked at him like he was crazy. Maybe he is but he doesn’t care right now. He spies chrysanthemums and rosemary and daffodils in neat rows as he walks steadily to the door.
He rings the doorbell five times and still nobody comes to the door. The curtains are drawn but he can see light streaming out through them, drawing shapes on the porch floor. His hands are shivering and his eyes are stinging by the time he rings the bell for the seventh time. There is an ache in his chest that won’t go away no matter how deeply he tries to breathe. He runs his fingers through his hair in frustration and is seconds away from giving up and turning away when he hears a soft whine. He blinks at the garden in confusion and there’s another whine and a small sniff.
Kris finally spots it, a small puppy with a smashed up looking nose and white fur going haywire all over his body in the December wind. He has the most self-satisfied look Kris has ever seen on a dog as he pads over hedge that separates the two gardens and pees right on a patch of Camellias.
“Floofy?” Kris asks hesitantly.
The puppy looks up at him and wiggles his butt as a form of greeting. It is downright adorable. “Ok, then, definitely Floofy. So you made up with Chen? ” The dog flips his head and sashays away, disappearing around the corner of the porch with a final look over his shoulder at Kris. Kris follows him hesitantly and spots a path that leads around the house to what is probably the back garden.
The first thing he sees when he walks around the corner is Floofy having an intense staring match with a sleek gray cat, who is looking at Floofy as if he is torn between scorning his whole existence or running over to wrap his tail around the puppy. Something like a sob catches in his throat as he thinks ‘Chen. It’s Chen.’
He raises his head up and finally, finally he sees who he wanted to see the most.
He is curled up in a wicker chair underneath the yellow porch light, wrapped in a thick blanket, eyes closed and the white cords of his earphones disappearing beneath his wind-tossed hair.
The ache in his chest loosens up a bit.
Then Floofy gives a small yip as Chen swipes a small paw at him and the sound startles the sleeping figure into waking up. A few moments pass as their eyes meet and he blinks at Kris sleepily, confusedly. Then he is throwing the blanket off him and taking a few shaky steps towards Kris. The first few steps are always the hardest, Kris thinks.
“Luhan.”
He staggers down the porch steps as if in a daze, as if he can’t believe his eyes.
“Kris? Kris what are you-”
Kris swallows. Luhan’s voice had always sounded like warm yellow sunlight and Kris now knows why. He thinks he is stupid, he should have known it couldn’t be anybody else, anybody else but Luhan all along.
Luhan is watching him with guarded eyes and Kris takes a deep breath. Luhan had his say in the final yellow letter, now it’s his turn to speak.
“I wrote back.” He says - his voice clear and his heart sure. “To the yellow letters. There was no returning address ever but I wrote back. To every single one of those yellow letters. I have a box full of blue letters under my bed.”
Luhan's mouth drops open in surprise.
“At first I just wanted to know why I fascinated him - because I never saw anything in me that was worthy of such notice. I told him he was different and that his letter was like a breath of fresh air. And then I told him about my day, not about the parts that the cameras caught but about the few private moments I had to myself. I told him that he was the first thing that made me feel alive again. And after a while….after a while I told him that I was in love with him, even if I had never even met him.”
The cold wind gusts through the garden almost hiding Luhan's soft gasp as the implications of this statement dawns on him. If Kris loved the person who wrote the yellow letters then maybe, maybe…. The moonlight is soft in the air and it makes Luhan's eyes shine in ways that makes Kris want and want and want.
“There was really nothing about those letters that made me a better person or anything like the clichéd saying goes. But those letters- they were the only thing that managed to quiet the screeching fan chants in my ears, the only thing that made me feel like I don’t have to scrub my skin raw in the shower after someone hangs on to me at the airport. The only thing that made me feel again, the only thing that I felt could be all mine. There was nothing about my love for that writer that made me see angels, but every single thing about that person silenced my demons.”
Kris feels lighter with every word that leaves his mouth. He needs to say them all; these words are long overdue and had been stuck in the jagged edges of his broken heart, preventing it from ever mending itself.
“But then I was writing blue letters filled with apologies. I told the yellow letters that I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry that I loved him first but I still couldn’t help falling for my new translator. I fell for him, hard, not for the beauty of his face but for the way it changed when he smiled. Not for how stunning his body looked when he danced but for the way his fingers looked wrapped gracefully around a Rubik’s cube. Not for his voice but for the way it made me feel less heavy in my heart. I fell for him, hard, not for how warm his touch was but for the way it reminded me so much of the yellow letters.”
The first snowflake of that winter falls from the skies and lands softly on Luhan's cheek. But there are tears in Luhan's eyes that spill out; melting the snowflake on its way and Kris has to blink back his own tears.
“But you are right too. All those things, they were never supposed to happen. I was never supposed to love him, to love you, but I did and now nothing is the same anymore.”
Luhan looks devastated for a few moments before he lifts his head and looks Kris right in the eyes.
“Yes, they were never supposed to happen. We were never meant to be.” His voice is soft and sure and it sounds yellow like smudged ink and late night coffees. It sounds yellow like the side of a neatly solved Rubik’s cube, yellow like the reflection of two people dancing caught in a mirror and Kris thinks it sounds perfect. “But do you regret it?”
That is all it takes, that one last question. Do you regret it? There is nothing but one single answer for that question because the minute those words leave Luhan's lips Kris thinks that he already knows the answer, he had known it all along.
So he takes two steps forward, closing the distance between them, his hand reaching out to cradle Luhan's small face, his thumb grazing the soft skin of his jaw. Luhan's eyes widen for a second before they flutter close slowly, almost involuntarily.
He places the softest of kisses on Luhan's forehead and yellow warmth explodes behind his own closed eyelids. He moves just a fraction and drops another light kiss on his cheek and then on the corner of his lips, still timid, still a little unsure. Luhan's hands drag a trail of blazing heat across his body as they move to hold on to his shirt, his petite hands curling into the fabric as if having no intention of ever letting go. Kris feels a little like he is a house made of cards trying to stand steady in a rainstorm. His heart stutters and he takes a shuddering breath as he tries to calm himself with small kiss after kiss he places all over Luhan’s face.
White snowflakes fall like pieces into place when Kris finally takes Luhan's face gently in both hands and melds their lips together fully. Luhan sighs into the kiss, lifting up on his toes to press more firmly against Kris and Kris winds a hand around his waist pulling him closer. It lasts forever and a minute and Kris thinks, no, he knows that it can’t get better than this.
Kris doesn’t know for how long they stand there, underneath the fine film of snow in the air learning the curves and dips of each other’s lips but Kris is drowning in the soft murmurs and whimpers of pleasure Luhan makes when Floofy yips at them, sounding very annoyed at not getting any attention and they break apart, breathless and giddy.
Luhan is looking up at him through his lashes as if he sees all of Kris - the perfection that makes fan girls cry and the flaws that make him cringe - and still thinks Kris is the best thing that could ever happen to him. Kris wants to say that it’s the other way around, that Luhan can’t even begin to understand what he has brought to Kris’ world but the words get stuck in his throat and instead he brushes his fingers over Luhan's face over and over again reverently as if he wants to memorize it, memorize the moment, that expression, the smell of snow in the air, the feel of soft skin, memorize it all.
“So… No regrets.” He says finally when he swallows the lump in his throat and finds his voice again.
Luhan throws his head back and laughs with the abandon of a little child. It is already so familiar and sounds so happy that Kris’ chest starts to ache all over again - but in a good way. “I know.” There is snow clinging to his hair and eyelashes.
“Oh….ok then.” Kris feels like he is back to his usual awkward self standing before Luhan's shinning smiles.
“You… you are not wearing any shoes.”
“I know.” He imitates Luhan. “My feet are kind of freezing.”
Luhan curves a hand around his neck and bumps their noses together, teasingly, adoringly.
And unsaid declarations of ‘I love you’ hangs in the air and they both know not all things need to be turned into sounds and syllables to have meaning, to have promise.
The perfection of this moments might not last and they have will have much bigger hurdles than mystery letter writers to surpass someday, and Kris doesn’t know where things will go from here but as he thinks of a stationary shop with yellow writing paper stacked neatly next to the blue, of a dance studio full of the smell of coffee and of puzzle pieces that fit together just so perfectly he thinks that he can’t get himself to worry about any of those things.
Instead he lets Luhan pull him towards the house, bare feet against the gravel, snow fluttering in the air, hand clasped around another warm hand, Floofy and Chen watching them, and their whole lives ahead of them waiting for them to figure it all out- together.
A/N : well, here we are then. All done. I hope you guys liked it ^_^
I usually write in AFF at jeonyeokhaneul, if you guys want to find me there because that's one place I can actually post stuff without feeling like a totally technologically retarded idiot :D
Thank you as always for reading the story of the yellow letters and for all those who commented and encouraged me.
Hope you have a great time ahead (and even if the times are bad Kpop will hopefully always be around to help you feel better!)
Cheers! ^_^
PAIRING : KRISHAN
RATING : PG/ PG-13
WORD COUNT : 24K
After a few moments of staring at his ceiling he pulls at his backpack lying on the ground and takes out the final unopened yellow letter. It’s slightly crumpled but otherwise unharmed.
Kris traces the alpaca drawn in the corner with his finger slowly.
“Why?” the alpaca stares back him silently.
“Why didn’t you ever give me a way to write back to you?” still no answer. “Why did you write again, after such a long time?”
He feels warm just by holding the letter. “Who are you?”
Kris thinks of falling in love, of missing people, he thinks of giving up and then he thinks of the feeling of fighting for something he loves. With a final decisive breathe he rips open the yellow envelope.
He reads the letter once.
And then he reads it again.
I remember the first time I saw you. It was on a TV screen in a Hongdae electronics shop. Your hair was so blonde and your eyes were so tired. ‘chicken nae style aniya’ was the first thing I ever heard you say. I didn’t like you.
That feels likes yesterday and like 10 years ago at the same time. But this is it, the final. The last yellow letter I will ever write to you because, to be honest, I am not really sure whether you will ever want to hear from me again after reading this.
I remember the last time I saw you too. You were so close that I could feel your breath on me, I could see the want in your eyes, could count your eyelashes. We were close enough that I felt like it could last forever. But then you broke my heart.
I don’t think I was ever supposed to write those letters to you, but I did. In a way, I felt like you needed it. You were a star all along, Kris; you just needed somebody to tell you that.
At first you just intrigued me, puzzled me, got under my skin and wouldn't leave. And then I got to know you. I learned that you cared for people strongly but unassumingly, that you worked harder than anybody else at the company, I learned that you were arrogant on the outside but quiet and shy on the inside. You were so quick to praise people but reluctant to accept when praise was returned. You were quick to get attached to people but unwilling to show it. You had the kind of bull-headed determination and strength of will to keep going even when your body hurt and your eyes were drooping. And I liked it all.
You were a star all along but you thought so little of yourself that you forgot that there’s so much more in this world than hurt and loneliness. You forgot what it really means when those girls touch you, follow you, scream your name and make you flinch. Maybe they love you in all the wrong ways, but they don’t love you for all the wrong reasons. I didn’t know it back when I stood in front of Mnet last year and watched the girls shiver and willingly starve in the cold for you but I know it now.
I was never supposed to write to you, but I did. I was never supposed to meet you or become your friend, but I did. I was never supposed to see you that first time and be so insanely attracted to you that I couldn’t breathe, I wasn’t supposed to be around you practically the whole day and still write something to you the minute I got home because there were so many things left that I wanted to tell you in person but couldn’t. I was never supposed to fall in love with you, it was never meant to be, but I did. But I did and now nothing is the same anymore.
He feels his whole body tremble as images and memories fly past his eyes in jumbled flashes. His breathe stutters and his ears ring. And then all of a sudden things start to make sense, so much sense.
I don’t know what to write to you anymore. I don’t know how to look at you and not want you. I don’t know how to write to you knowing you are already in love with somebody else, I don’t know how to smile at you without wondering whether you smile back like that at the person you love too. So this is it, the final.
All I can wish for is for everything to work out for you well, every single day of your life, even if I am not around to see it all.
In case you were wondering- Chen had a fight with Floofy so he doesn’t come over as often to pee in my plants anymore, and now I just miss his smug little butt-wiggles. Oh, and also, I really am not five years old - I was born in May 1990, I’m older than you.
He stumbles out of bed and takes a few shaky steps. His head is a spinning mass of puzzle pieces.
Small yellow envelopes almost hidden among the pink- mediocre - you are special- - You know how it is easy to talk about people you have only seen around but never really met? - lithe fingers wrapped around Rubik’s cubes - twist, hop, shoulder twist, step, step, pause and now follow through with your hips - You probably know a lot more than you think you do - three hours on the phone - I like your voice - deeper but softer - - But sometimes it’s hard working around so many people when there is one person among them all that you can’t take your eyes off of - sketched alpacas and elevators that take Luhan further and further away from him - I’m in love with somebody - Luhan quit - They let 5 year olds graduate from High school now? - I’m older than you -bright yellow, bright, shinning eyes.
Then the shaking stops and Kris snatches his phone from the bedside table and takes off running. He takes off running, heart thundering in his ears but his footsteps sure, because he has somewhere important to be.
He jumps into the first taxi that comes his way and scrolls frantically through his phone to find an old text message Kyungsoo had sent him. The cab driver gives him a strange look but takes off the minute Kris rattles off the address of the place somewhere outside the main city with no questions asked. Forty anxious minutes later he pays the driver with a bunch of crumpled won notes that he unearths from his pockets and doesn’t wait to get back his change.
The air is freezing but his palms are sweaty. The neighborhood is quiet and his garden is small. He doesn’t realize that he had even forgotten to put on his shoes until he feels the pebbles from the garden digging into his soles. No wonder the cab driver looked at him like he was crazy. Maybe he is but he doesn’t care right now. He spies chrysanthemums and rosemary and daffodils in neat rows as he walks steadily to the door.
He rings the doorbell five times and still nobody comes to the door. The curtains are drawn but he can see light streaming out through them, drawing shapes on the porch floor. His hands are shivering and his eyes are stinging by the time he rings the bell for the seventh time. There is an ache in his chest that won’t go away no matter how deeply he tries to breathe. He runs his fingers through his hair in frustration and is seconds away from giving up and turning away when he hears a soft whine. He blinks at the garden in confusion and there’s another whine and a small sniff.
Kris finally spots it, a small puppy with a smashed up looking nose and white fur going haywire all over his body in the December wind. He has the most self-satisfied look Kris has ever seen on a dog as he pads over hedge that separates the two gardens and pees right on a patch of Camellias.
“Floofy?” Kris asks hesitantly.
The puppy looks up at him and wiggles his butt as a form of greeting. It is downright adorable. “Ok, then, definitely Floofy. So you made up with Chen? ” The dog flips his head and sashays away, disappearing around the corner of the porch with a final look over his shoulder at Kris. Kris follows him hesitantly and spots a path that leads around the house to what is probably the back garden.
The first thing he sees when he walks around the corner is Floofy having an intense staring match with a sleek gray cat, who is looking at Floofy as if he is torn between scorning his whole existence or running over to wrap his tail around the puppy. Something like a sob catches in his throat as he thinks ‘Chen. It’s Chen.’
He raises his head up and finally, finally he sees who he wanted to see the most.
He is curled up in a wicker chair underneath the yellow porch light, wrapped in a thick blanket, eyes closed and the white cords of his earphones disappearing beneath his wind-tossed hair.
The ache in his chest loosens up a bit.
Then Floofy gives a small yip as Chen swipes a small paw at him and the sound startles the sleeping figure into waking up. A few moments pass as their eyes meet and he blinks at Kris sleepily, confusedly. Then he is throwing the blanket off him and taking a few shaky steps towards Kris. The first few steps are always the hardest, Kris thinks.
“Luhan.”
He staggers down the porch steps as if in a daze, as if he can’t believe his eyes.
“Kris? Kris what are you-”
Kris swallows. Luhan’s voice had always sounded like warm yellow sunlight and Kris now knows why. He thinks he is stupid, he should have known it couldn’t be anybody else, anybody else but Luhan all along.
Luhan is watching him with guarded eyes and Kris takes a deep breath. Luhan had his say in the final yellow letter, now it’s his turn to speak.
“I wrote back.” He says - his voice clear and his heart sure. “To the yellow letters. There was no returning address ever but I wrote back. To every single one of those yellow letters. I have a box full of blue letters under my bed.”
Luhan's mouth drops open in surprise.
“At first I just wanted to know why I fascinated him - because I never saw anything in me that was worthy of such notice. I told him he was different and that his letter was like a breath of fresh air. And then I told him about my day, not about the parts that the cameras caught but about the few private moments I had to myself. I told him that he was the first thing that made me feel alive again. And after a while….after a while I told him that I was in love with him, even if I had never even met him.”
The cold wind gusts through the garden almost hiding Luhan's soft gasp as the implications of this statement dawns on him. If Kris loved the person who wrote the yellow letters then maybe, maybe…. The moonlight is soft in the air and it makes Luhan's eyes shine in ways that makes Kris want and want and want.
“There was really nothing about those letters that made me a better person or anything like the clichéd saying goes. But those letters- they were the only thing that managed to quiet the screeching fan chants in my ears, the only thing that made me feel like I don’t have to scrub my skin raw in the shower after someone hangs on to me at the airport. The only thing that made me feel again, the only thing that I felt could be all mine. There was nothing about my love for that writer that made me see angels, but every single thing about that person silenced my demons.”
Kris feels lighter with every word that leaves his mouth. He needs to say them all; these words are long overdue and had been stuck in the jagged edges of his broken heart, preventing it from ever mending itself.
“But then I was writing blue letters filled with apologies. I told the yellow letters that I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry that I loved him first but I still couldn’t help falling for my new translator. I fell for him, hard, not for the beauty of his face but for the way it changed when he smiled. Not for how stunning his body looked when he danced but for the way his fingers looked wrapped gracefully around a Rubik’s cube. Not for his voice but for the way it made me feel less heavy in my heart. I fell for him, hard, not for how warm his touch was but for the way it reminded me so much of the yellow letters.”
The first snowflake of that winter falls from the skies and lands softly on Luhan's cheek. But there are tears in Luhan's eyes that spill out; melting the snowflake on its way and Kris has to blink back his own tears.
“But you are right too. All those things, they were never supposed to happen. I was never supposed to love him, to love you, but I did and now nothing is the same anymore.”
Luhan looks devastated for a few moments before he lifts his head and looks Kris right in the eyes.
“Yes, they were never supposed to happen. We were never meant to be.” His voice is soft and sure and it sounds yellow like smudged ink and late night coffees. It sounds yellow like the side of a neatly solved Rubik’s cube, yellow like the reflection of two people dancing caught in a mirror and Kris thinks it sounds perfect. “But do you regret it?”
That is all it takes, that one last question. Do you regret it? There is nothing but one single answer for that question because the minute those words leave Luhan's lips Kris thinks that he already knows the answer, he had known it all along.
So he takes two steps forward, closing the distance between them, his hand reaching out to cradle Luhan's small face, his thumb grazing the soft skin of his jaw. Luhan's eyes widen for a second before they flutter close slowly, almost involuntarily.
He places the softest of kisses on Luhan's forehead and yellow warmth explodes behind his own closed eyelids. He moves just a fraction and drops another light kiss on his cheek and then on the corner of his lips, still timid, still a little unsure. Luhan's hands drag a trail of blazing heat across his body as they move to hold on to his shirt, his petite hands curling into the fabric as if having no intention of ever letting go. Kris feels a little like he is a house made of cards trying to stand steady in a rainstorm. His heart stutters and he takes a shuddering breath as he tries to calm himself with small kiss after kiss he places all over Luhan’s face.
White snowflakes fall like pieces into place when Kris finally takes Luhan's face gently in both hands and melds their lips together fully. Luhan sighs into the kiss, lifting up on his toes to press more firmly against Kris and Kris winds a hand around his waist pulling him closer. It lasts forever and a minute and Kris thinks, no, he knows that it can’t get better than this.
Kris doesn’t know for how long they stand there, underneath the fine film of snow in the air learning the curves and dips of each other’s lips but Kris is drowning in the soft murmurs and whimpers of pleasure Luhan makes when Floofy yips at them, sounding very annoyed at not getting any attention and they break apart, breathless and giddy.
Luhan is looking up at him through his lashes as if he sees all of Kris - the perfection that makes fan girls cry and the flaws that make him cringe - and still thinks Kris is the best thing that could ever happen to him. Kris wants to say that it’s the other way around, that Luhan can’t even begin to understand what he has brought to Kris’ world but the words get stuck in his throat and instead he brushes his fingers over Luhan's face over and over again reverently as if he wants to memorize it, memorize the moment, that expression, the smell of snow in the air, the feel of soft skin, memorize it all.
“So… No regrets.” He says finally when he swallows the lump in his throat and finds his voice again.
Luhan throws his head back and laughs with the abandon of a little child. It is already so familiar and sounds so happy that Kris’ chest starts to ache all over again - but in a good way. “I know.” There is snow clinging to his hair and eyelashes.
“Oh….ok then.” Kris feels like he is back to his usual awkward self standing before Luhan's shinning smiles.
“You… you are not wearing any shoes.”
“I know.” He imitates Luhan. “My feet are kind of freezing.”
Luhan curves a hand around his neck and bumps their noses together, teasingly, adoringly.
And unsaid declarations of ‘I love you’ hangs in the air and they both know not all things need to be turned into sounds and syllables to have meaning, to have promise.
The perfection of this moments might not last and they have will have much bigger hurdles than mystery letter writers to surpass someday, and Kris doesn’t know where things will go from here but as he thinks of a stationary shop with yellow writing paper stacked neatly next to the blue, of a dance studio full of the smell of coffee and of puzzle pieces that fit together just so perfectly he thinks that he can’t get himself to worry about any of those things.
Instead he lets Luhan pull him towards the house, bare feet against the gravel, snow fluttering in the air, hand clasped around another warm hand, Floofy and Chen watching them, and their whole lives ahead of them waiting for them to figure it all out- together.
A/N : well, here we are then. All done. I hope you guys liked it ^_^
I usually write in AFF at jeonyeokhaneul, if you guys want to find me there because that's one place I can actually post stuff without feeling like a totally technologically retarded idiot :D
Thank you as always for reading the story of the yellow letters and for all those who commented and encouraged me.
Hope you have a great time ahead (and even if the times are bad Kpop will hopefully always be around to help you feel better!)
Cheers! ^_^