Love's Life
Title: Love's Life
Status: Complete
Pairing: Kyuhyun
Rating: PG-13
Summary: A toy that is given life loves his ill master.
Disclaimer: This was inspired by the Velveteen Rabbit. I used to love that as a child. I haven't read it in years, but I randomly thought of this th other day. I do not own the names, boys, toys or anything of the sort. This is simply my own remake of a timeless story that I think you all should read.
Chapter 1
I am but a rabbit, a small rabbit that sits here on the shelf. My master is a young boy. Though he is growing I feel that my place in his heart has not changed. He bought me when nobody else wanted me. I can remember that day as if it were the day I was born. Perhaps that is just what it was; the day I was born. Back then, I was a mere toy. It was a Christmas holiday, as those humans like to call it. It was a cold and monstrous day. Every toy was lined up a presented in a manner that was befitting to those fleshy people. They came and surveyed us toys as if we were mere items for their pleasure. And well, I suppose we were. But my boy was different. He is special. Of all the new and wonderful toys he selected me, a lone rabbit. I was what he chose and I was what became his. Over time I became worn and old. I have been with my master for three years now. For a toy, a life span of six months is considered phenomenal with the everyday technology and growing lack of interest. Especially for a toy of my kind, that has no special features and that just sits on a shelf. My colored hide fading and becoming worn where the fabric has been touched too often, an arm has held me about the neck as we run or tugged at me ear when I have fallen from the bed. I am old and considered disposable by most. But my boy loves me. But, over time his love gave me life and that life gave me an emotion that I later came to understand as love.
You know, I hear the boy’s teacher tell him of the many religions of this world. I don’t quite understand them. Perhaps it is this cotton filled brain of mine. To me they seem to all contradict and condemn one another. My boy seems just as confused as I am. He has even asked the scary lady why people can’t just believe what they want and accept other’s. For some reason this infuriated the lady, she asked if young master was not concerned about those souls. I was proud of my boy. He did not cower as I wished to, but instead he insisted that their souls were their own and that they could decide what they believed. He asked her that, if they had as much faith in their religion as she did, what made theirs wrong. Ha, that silly lady never had an answer. But, there is one religion that I remember clearly. I don’t remember the name, but that lady said that if you love something enough you can give life to it. I wonder if that I what happened to me. Did he love me enough that I was given life? Or, I wonder, did I love him enough that I willed this life? To either thought I am grateful. For with this life I am able to love my master as he loves me. If one day I am to lose his love will I cease to exist? These things that the human’s call thoughts frighten me. If he should ever stop loving me I think that that is a scary but a bearable fate. What thing wants to live after it is no longer loved. But, my boy is a good boy. He won’t forget me like other masters have. He could never stop loving me.
Everyday my boy and I wake together, we eat together and we play together. Every night I am tucked snuggly beneath his chin to protect him as he sleeps. There is not a day that I have not been by my boy’s side since the day that I became his. At least, not until this last week. My boy is sick. Very sick. Though I do not possess the warm body that he does, I understand that the heat is not normal. His skin scorched through the fabric that is my body. I worry for him, as do the people that he calls his parent’s. I feel envious of these being’s as I know that my master loves them as well. But, I think, it is a different love. I think that his love to these parent things is something different form the affectionate love I receive. Yet, I cannot help but feel a bit of a grudge towards them. Every night I try to sleep by my boy’s side and every night they remove me and put me upon the counter once more. It is infuriating. My boy needs me and I need to be by his side. This heat from his body and the way that he cries is not normal. I feel anxious as my boy has yet to wake from his slumber. I feel this is not normal. I am beginning to miss our teas and naps beneath the sun. Those books he stutters through o read to me and the meals he carefully instructs be made for me even though I cannot eat and his parent things insist that I am just a toy. These parent beings have spoken about calling a thing called a doctor.
The nutcracker and the rocking horse have said that this doctor being will make my boy all better. I hope that they do. I miss his smile and his laughter. I think I am experiencing this thing called sadness that the boy once spoke of. I feel as if I cannot take it. I do not quite understand what a heart is but I think I understand what it means for this place to hurt. I want my boy, I want him back and I want him to smile and tease me. I want to watch as he paints these pictures that I do not understand and runs through the fields, letting me ride along in his backpack or to carry my by the ears. I suppose it is a good thing I am not this thing called “real” or it might hurt. Curiously my marble eyes look at the clock, feeling my ears twitch as the time reads one. I have not quite understood the human’s concept of time, but I understand that the parent’s do not come at this time.
Carefully I slide from the shelf, my soft body plopping to the floor. Laying still I wait, listening to make sure that no human is coming. Satisfied I scurry over to my master’s bed, masterfully pulling myself up the side of the bed. Looking at my master I wonder if my marble eyes were capable of tears if I would cry. My master lies sweating and I can tell from the furrow of his brow that he is in great pain. Carefully I ease myself to his arm. Gently I nudge his arm, waiting for him. Watching I nudge him a few more times. Groaning slightly he turns, a weak smile playing on his lips. I can feel happiness spread through my body. My boy knows I am alive I think. I am not sure how he knows; but I think he knows. Gently he calls my name and tucks me beneath his chin, asking how I got there. Snuggling I can feel the labored breathing of his chest. I can feel this thing called sorrow return and a new emotion I have not yet discovered. It caused me to look up at my boy anxiously. Smiling he kisses my nose gently before his eyes flutter shut painfully. Fitfully he falls back into a deep slumber. Wandering my mind thinks of the words that those parent things had said. If I could speak, I would ask the boy about this doctor thing. I would ask him if he can make him better and whether or not we can play together once more. I want to tell him that I miss him and that I want him to be better once more. I want to tell him that it is ok because I am here with him and that I love him. Instead I lay here, waiting for morning and thinking of my boy.
It has been a month since my boy has fallen ill and I feel that I find this doctor thing to be rather useless. All he does is poke and prod my boy with these sharp objects. The first time my boy cried out I wanted to attack that stupid thing that those parent creatures seemed to like so much. Couldn’t they see he was hurting him? Couldn’t they see that this thing was useless? I was more help than that thing!
Tonight I had listened to those parents’ creatures and that doctor thing talk. They had said many things about stuff I did not understand and mentioned a color fever of some sort. But the doctor said something about this fever that made the parents cry. I could not understand what this word meant or why it had so much meaning behind it. I wonder why that stupid doctor thing made them cry or why they had even thanked him. These human things are so complicated to understand. Well except for my boy. He is wonderful. . I have learned what this feeling inside of me is. I listened to the people about me discuss it. They call it fear. I do not quite understand it though. I would I feel this fear thing? My boy is just fine. He always gets sick, maybe not this bad but that is ok because he always gets better. Twitching my nose I look at the time impatiently I decide that it won’t hurt if I comfort him early tonight.
He seems to feel worse. Slowly I ease myself over, scrambling up the fallen sheet as I snuggle as close to him as possible. He has grown weak, so I try not to wake him. I overheard that doctor thing tell his parent creatures that sleep is good for him. I do not understand but I will not wake him. I can feel the moons light stream through the window. Looking up I look at the blue white light, listening to my boys labored breathing. If I could sigh I think I would so here. Thinking I think about the way that those parent creatures cried and the words that doctor had spoken. Thinking I try to think if I have ever heard this dreadful word before. I can feel my stitched face pull into a frown. I have never heard it. I find myself wondering what this word could mean and why these parent creatures feared it so much. What had made them come and stare at my boy for hours before leaving, sobbing once more. What was this word? Was it some kind of evil curse? I had heard that scary lady tell my boy about such things. They seemed frightful. But who would hurt my master. Turning my marble eyes to his pained face I reach a velveteen paw to wipe this moisture they call sweat. Frowning I watched him moan slightly. The illness had taken its toll on my master, his face had lost its baby fat and his features seemed sharp. They reminded me of the sharp edge of his building blocks. His pale skin could put the moon to shame and the moisture on his body seemed to flow like a spring rain. But none of these were good. They all hurt my boy. They were all products of that word. Frowning I watched a tear of pain fall from my master’s eye. What exactly was this evil curse thing that the doctor thing had spoken of? What exactly was this death?
Yesterday I was asked the old rocking horse what this thing called death was. I wish I had never asked. The rocking horse is a great, aged toy that will outlive most. He has had many masters and experienced many loves. He laughs at me when I say all I need is my boys love. But it is true that my boy’s love is all I need. Today he has also told me about this thing about life and being alive. He said that he does not really understand it, but that many toys have come alive due to it and many have remained toys. He believes that this religion that I spoke of could possibly be the cause of it. But he has also told me that once a toy comes alive then there is no un-alive; Unlike Humans. He told me that once a toy becomes alive it will remain that way forever. But humans, he said that humans have this thing called a life span and this life span is what governs their life. He said that that is why my boy grew. He also told me that this life span was what was threatening my boy. He said that this death thing, it is taking my boy. He said that my boy would soon become still. I asked him if he meant like a toy. He laughed at me but it was a sad laugh and I found that I couldn’t be angry at him. He told me that the boy would become still like a toy and eventually disappear. He said that toys can be brought to life through love, but that humans cannot once they are gone they do not return. He told me that we might all disappear after the boy’s death. He said that when a human becomes ill like this it is necessary to “cleanse” their room, which could mean selling or burning the objects inside. Once a human was gone, the toys place with his human was no more. I don’t quite understand. But once, when I was first bought the maid took on of my boy’s old toys and he never came back. I can feel this fear thing taking control of me. Will my boy be like that toy? Taken to never return?
I am sitting on the shelf tonight. This thing called fear prevents m from going to my boy. I don’t want to miss looking at him for a moment. What if I look away and I look back and he has disappeared? I came to understand that this sickness is what is causing this death thing to take him. I am terrified. Can my boy not be helped? This boy, who gave me life and laughter? Can his fever not be taken away? Twitching my ears flicked, my mind going back to that thought. Could it not be taken away?
Scrambling from the shelf I tried to hurry towards my buy, desperate to see him. Climbing onto the bed I looked at his face. If this by could give me life, could I not give it back to him? The rocking horse had said that life and death lived as two sous trapped in the same body. Could I not give back the life he had given me? Gently I reached a felted paw to the boy’s cheek willing him to wake up. Fluttering slightly his chocolate eyes looked into my glassy ones. Gently I leaned my forehead against his, willing the sickness into my body and the life into his. Eyes trapped together I begged for any and every deity I could remember to grant this wish; to transfer life for death. Blinking I raised a paw to my cheek, the boys eyes growing wide as a small finger blushed beneath my eye. I was crying.
Refraining myself from a bitter laugh I let the tears flow as I concentrated on saving this boy that I loved. Shaking I could feel heat and pain flood into my body. I could feel my nose twitch as it felt as if my stuffed felt was being filled to the max. The boy’s eyes widened unable to break the contact. I could feel my stitched mouth stretch into a smile. The boy’s eyes were beginning to sparkle and his heated body was beginning to return to normal. Reaching a tufted arm out I placed it on his rosy cheek noticing that the color was becoming the pink it once was. Not the scary moon white. I could feel my strength draining as I sank to the bed, the boy sitting up to look at me. Weakly I lay beneath him. Looking at me he gently cradled me in his arms, smiling as he lay down. “Thank you.” He whispered simply. Gently he kissed my head, holding me tight as I felt the light beneath my marble eyes begin to fade. So this is what this death thing feels like? I thought painfully. I am glad that my boy did not experience such a horrible thing. Snuggling against him I felt these new found tear things slip from my eyes one last time. They were filled with love and longing. My boy was safe. That was what mattered. My boy would live. The only sadness was that I could not see him live. I would no longer be at his side. This would be the last night that I would love my boy. Snuggling close I wished with all of my might that I could speak. Looking up I caught the eyes of my now peaceful and happy boy. Suddenly, though I was in pain I felt happiness. Looking into his eyes I willed my words to him. I love you, I thought strongly. I love you my boy Kyuhyun.
Smiling sleepily the boy tucked the bunny close, closing his eyes to settle in for a peaceful sleep with his favorite toy.
“I love you too Sungmin.” He whispered softly.
Smiling blissfully at the words the bunny felt his eyes go dim and the life finally seep from his body.
A/N:I hope you enjoy reading this! Please let me know your thoughts! ^_^ I don't normally so first person... but it seemed fitting! Please comment and let me know your thoughts!! Thank you for reading! *tackle glomps*