JongKey ficlet
Title: Love, not like oxygen
Pairings: Jonghyun x Key
Rating: PG
Genre: Light angst
Wordcount: 483
A/N: No names are mentioned but I wrote this thinking of JongKey. You’re free to chose who’s the 2nd person POV focusing on.
Summary: It’s not a weird, lame attempt at suicide. You just want to know how long.
~~
Less than two minutes.
Lying back on your bed, staring at the ceiling, engulfed by darkness where nothing distinguishes out of nothing, where everything is only what you know and what you have seen, you decide to test how long you can take. You bring one hand up to your face, hand that seals both your mouth and nose at the same time. It’s not a weird, lame attempt at suicide. You just want to know how long.
Your heart decreases its beating rate like you were on slumber. Your body relaxes, you feel your eyes’ pupils dilating and contracting, focusing in and out, until your vision is entirely blackened like you were in the middle of an inexistent black hole.
Then you need to swallow and you do it. The lowest amount of air still in your mouth goes to your lungs, but when you feel your face, your eyes and your ears drumming with your heart, you know that’s your limit. Before the ruckus in your head becomes panic, the kind of panic you have never experienced but you know it comes from an unconscious struggle for life, you withdraw the hand that covers your mouth and nose, and you sharply breath in a gust of air that speeds up your heart and waters your eyes, and many others intakes of air follow after this until you get normalized.
But you don’t. The liquid collecting in your eyes are real tears, and your heart does not slow down because you’re crying now. The noise in your head does not cease because you’re desperate, and the instinctive fight for survival does not end because you still haven’t won.
You wanted to test how long you can stay without air and you realize it’s different, it’s different from how long you can stay without him. Not breathing for less than two minutes is still an eternity near how long you can take to be away from him. That’s why the din doesn’t fade and your heartbeats don’t decelerate, and those will never happen because you don’t have him.
The result of your test can’t be measured by the pointers or digits of a clock. The answer is not represented by numbers. But you have confirmed a suspicion that has been escalating together with your inner battle: love is not like oxygen. At least, yours is surely not. If it was, you two would share it just like the air that surrounds you, and although you feel as plentiful with love as with air, you know that this is your condition, only. You know he doesn’t need your love to live.
In less than two minutes, the lack of air has made your body react like on the verge of death, and this is how you know you need him more than you need oxygen:
He makes you feel this way all the time.
Pairings: Jonghyun x Key
Rating: PG
Genre: Light angst
Wordcount: 483
A/N: No names are mentioned but I wrote this thinking of JongKey. You’re free to chose who’s the 2nd person POV focusing on.
Summary: It’s not a weird, lame attempt at suicide. You just want to know how long.
~~
Less than two minutes.
Lying back on your bed, staring at the ceiling, engulfed by darkness where nothing distinguishes out of nothing, where everything is only what you know and what you have seen, you decide to test how long you can take. You bring one hand up to your face, hand that seals both your mouth and nose at the same time. It’s not a weird, lame attempt at suicide. You just want to know how long.
Your heart decreases its beating rate like you were on slumber. Your body relaxes, you feel your eyes’ pupils dilating and contracting, focusing in and out, until your vision is entirely blackened like you were in the middle of an inexistent black hole.
Then you need to swallow and you do it. The lowest amount of air still in your mouth goes to your lungs, but when you feel your face, your eyes and your ears drumming with your heart, you know that’s your limit. Before the ruckus in your head becomes panic, the kind of panic you have never experienced but you know it comes from an unconscious struggle for life, you withdraw the hand that covers your mouth and nose, and you sharply breath in a gust of air that speeds up your heart and waters your eyes, and many others intakes of air follow after this until you get normalized.
But you don’t. The liquid collecting in your eyes are real tears, and your heart does not slow down because you’re crying now. The noise in your head does not cease because you’re desperate, and the instinctive fight for survival does not end because you still haven’t won.
You wanted to test how long you can stay without air and you realize it’s different, it’s different from how long you can stay without him. Not breathing for less than two minutes is still an eternity near how long you can take to be away from him. That’s why the din doesn’t fade and your heartbeats don’t decelerate, and those will never happen because you don’t have him.
The result of your test can’t be measured by the pointers or digits of a clock. The answer is not represented by numbers. But you have confirmed a suspicion that has been escalating together with your inner battle: love is not like oxygen. At least, yours is surely not. If it was, you two would share it just like the air that surrounds you, and although you feel as plentiful with love as with air, you know that this is your condition, only. You know he doesn’t need your love to live.
In less than two minutes, the lack of air has made your body react like on the verge of death, and this is how you know you need him more than you need oxygen:
He makes you feel this way all the time.