[ILC/013] Written On His Skin
Title: Written On His Skin
ILC/Pairing Assigner: kendayawind & shadowcrawler12
Pairing: Yemin
Genre: Drama, Romance
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I don't own them, SME does. Plot is mine.
Challenge: Initial Line Challenge
Summary: Yesung doesn't learn how to truly see into the future until it's basically drawn out to him.
Warning: Un-beta'd. I haven't written in AGES, so, if that doesn't tell you enough >.>
If he could wish for anything, it would be to not see anything, then maybe this childish longing would finally leave him.
Because, like the swirling of yarn around a knitting needle, Yesung is wrapped around Sungmin's fingers; every glance, every motion, every unconscious (or subconscious) touch, a brush of their hands, or even fingers, Sungmin has the blood in Yesung's veins raging, boiling.
And, like paper without a pen, Yesung waits for their story to be written on his skin, his emotions sufficing only when Sungmin gives him a cue, when Sungmin picks up the pen on his own accordance, and there is nothing else Yesung can do but sit - sitting and waiting - like an open canvas, an empty field.
Like this, just like this, Yesung discovers himself withering away - slowly, but surely - and what surfaces, what embodies his cold shell, is only one sensation; the one called hope.
And Sungmin - well, Sungmin is watching him.
Sungmin is waiting for Yesung to open his eyes.
-
Ahead of them is a future, a future that has not yet been decided, and Yesung, Yesung is afraid to approach it and Sungmin, Sungmin doesn't know how to usher him forward.
Yesung is stuck in a dilemma; unable to move forward, unable to step backward, and his left and right are blocked by obstacles, a reality that surrounds him and swallows him whole.
The thick, black jacket on his shoulders weigh too heavy, the boots wrapped around his feet are too hard, the gaze in his eyes are too fierce as he faces his targets - his enemies by nature - with his weapon in hand.
Just before he takes his first step forward - the last step he will take before the opponents charge at him with determination, anger, and, perhaps, anxiety - Sungmin flashes past his eyes.
And Yesung suddenly remembers that a future for him, as slim as it is, is dangerous. And that face, that sharp, porcelain, beautiful face, is not one that he can endanger.
Reality slips in with a near-blow to his shoulder and Sungmin is tossed into the back of his head.
This is how it would be, how it would always be, if Sungmin were to be his. Sungmin would always be last place, beneath all this violence and anger, hatred and brutality, and that isn't where Sungmin belongs.
Just like that, Sungmin is abandoned again. Sungmin is abandoned by Yesung like Yesung is being abandoned by his own existence. A shell that knows nothing but fighting - fighting for his brothers, for his friends, for anyone but himself.
It's a harsh life, he thinks, one that Sungmin shouldn't intersect with.
-
In the end, Yesung is still as blind as he ever was, but Sungmin still holds onto hope, the one emotion he realized Yesung had long since discarded.
But Sungmin knows Yesung hasn't given up on him yet; no matter if it's by the longing gaze in the man's eyes, or the subtle language in his movements, Sungmin knows he still matters.
And that, that is all that matters to Sungmin.
-
Something in his chest aches, Yesung reckons, as he's laying on the cold cement ground, bordered by bodies - injured and unconscious - with his slick sweat rolling down the sides of his face, smothered in his sideburns along with something thick and fluidic that reeks of iron and metals.
His eyes sting from the invasion of a red blur, the more he blinks the more the blur blinds him.
Suddenly, a familiar voice speaks out to him.
“Yesung, are you alright? Where does it hurt?”
Yesung wonders if the wound on his temple isn't obvious enough, or if the mess of blood and sweat trailing down his head isn't enough of a clue, but then his mind and heart register the voice, the touch, the gentle, gentle breath blowing against his cheek, the soft, soft hand against his aching heart.
His head is throbbing, his vision darkening by the second.
“I don't want to be blind,” he mutters, his left hand grasping Sungmin's tightly against his chest.
There is no reply aside from a silent hush, Sungmin planting a kiss to his damp forehead. “It's alright,” Sungmin chants to him, “I've called the ambulance, they'll be right here. You're going to be okay.”
As stupid as it was, Yesung believed Sungmin - believed that everything would return to normal, that the pain would go away, that the blood would be drained from his eyes.
He falls asleep and days - no, weeks - later he awakes.
All Yesung sees is black; dark, dark black.
-
“The weapon that struck your skull was sharp enough, accurate enough, and hard enough to erupt an orbital artery in your skull. The blood has clogged and, therefore, has blinded you. I cannot tell you how long it will take - or if it's even possible - that the clog will disperse. I'm sorry, Yesung-sshi, but we can only hope for the best.”
Yesung almost laughs in the doctors face at the doctors declaration. Hadn't the doctor known that Yesung had given up on hope a long, long time ago?
Hope. What was hope?
-
“Nice to meet you, I'm Sungmin.”
“I know who you are. I lost my sight, not my memory.”
Sungmin smiles weakly at Yesung's new-found hostility. “Oh, really? But I don't feel as if I know you, Kim Jongwoon.”
“How-” Yesung wants to ask, but bites down on his tongue. “It doesn't matter. I don't want to know you.”
“But I do,” Sungmin replies. “I want to get to know you better, Jongwoon-sshi. Won't you give it a try? I'll stay by your side, every step of your way, and we can take the time to get to know each other.”
“I said I don't-”
“I was born on the first day of the year,” Sungmin interrupts. Yesung fidgets in his hospital bed awkwardly, his hands gripping the sheets with a grasp so hard that his nails are nearly pinching through the sheets into his own palm. A tender hand lands on his own. “I love to exercise and I love to learn new things. You know, I've always had my eyes on a certain blind man-”
Yesung pulls his hand away. “Don't lie, don't pity me.”
“See? You don't know me as well as you think, Jongwoon-sshi. I don't lie and I don't play the pity card on anyone, either. You see, this man I loved saw nothing but what he wanted to see; all he saw was a future filled with darkness. He couldn't even truly see me, even though he had such deep feelings for myself. Wouldn't you agree that he was quite blind?”
“You knew-”
Sungmin chuckled. “But now, now I think he can finally open his eyes.”
Yesung chews on his bottom lip. “You don't care that I'm blind?”
“No,” Sungmin replies simply. He once again takes Yesung's hand into his own. “On the contrary, I don't think you've ever been so perfect in your life.”
At those words, Yesung feels a stream of relief course throughout his body. He feels light, as if his entire existence is nothing but a feather, and Sungmin, Sungmin feels so right in his hold. He tugs lightly on the hand extended to him and Sungmin collapses against him, into him. “Thank you,” Yesung whispers into Sungmin's neck, “thank you.”
Sungmin holds back the tears threatening to pool from his eyes, each longing they both had for each other becoming a reality instead of a faraway dream. He shakes his head, his arms wrapping tighter around Yesung's shoulders.
And Yesung, Yesung feels as if the future ahead of him has finally cleared its way.
Yesung learns how to hope again.
-----
kendayawind's Yemin this way~ [ ILC13: Yemin]
-----
[ILC12: Heeteuk] ♦ [ILC14: Haemin]
-----
A/N: ..ahaha...hah... two weeks late.. ahah >.> Sorry, Nyx ;A; I'm trying to catch up. I swear, I am. Anyhow.. I know this sucks, like, really hard. I don't even know how to reprimand or explain myself (aside from telling you that I have been working ungodly hours T.T and have almost no time to myself at all..) but I seriously don't know what else/how to write... T.T I'm so sorry.
Btw, read Nyx's Yemin! It is awwwwwwwwwwesome ;A; Thanks for reading!
ILC/Pairing Assigner: kendayawind & shadowcrawler12
Pairing: Yemin
Genre: Drama, Romance
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I don't own them, SME does. Plot is mine.
Challenge: Initial Line Challenge
Summary: Yesung doesn't learn how to truly see into the future until it's basically drawn out to him.
Warning: Un-beta'd. I haven't written in AGES, so, if that doesn't tell you enough >.>
If he could wish for anything, it would be to not see anything, then maybe this childish longing would finally leave him.
Because, like the swirling of yarn around a knitting needle, Yesung is wrapped around Sungmin's fingers; every glance, every motion, every unconscious (or subconscious) touch, a brush of their hands, or even fingers, Sungmin has the blood in Yesung's veins raging, boiling.
And, like paper without a pen, Yesung waits for their story to be written on his skin, his emotions sufficing only when Sungmin gives him a cue, when Sungmin picks up the pen on his own accordance, and there is nothing else Yesung can do but sit - sitting and waiting - like an open canvas, an empty field.
Like this, just like this, Yesung discovers himself withering away - slowly, but surely - and what surfaces, what embodies his cold shell, is only one sensation; the one called hope.
And Sungmin - well, Sungmin is watching him.
Sungmin is waiting for Yesung to open his eyes.
-
Ahead of them is a future, a future that has not yet been decided, and Yesung, Yesung is afraid to approach it and Sungmin, Sungmin doesn't know how to usher him forward.
Yesung is stuck in a dilemma; unable to move forward, unable to step backward, and his left and right are blocked by obstacles, a reality that surrounds him and swallows him whole.
The thick, black jacket on his shoulders weigh too heavy, the boots wrapped around his feet are too hard, the gaze in his eyes are too fierce as he faces his targets - his enemies by nature - with his weapon in hand.
Just before he takes his first step forward - the last step he will take before the opponents charge at him with determination, anger, and, perhaps, anxiety - Sungmin flashes past his eyes.
And Yesung suddenly remembers that a future for him, as slim as it is, is dangerous. And that face, that sharp, porcelain, beautiful face, is not one that he can endanger.
Reality slips in with a near-blow to his shoulder and Sungmin is tossed into the back of his head.
This is how it would be, how it would always be, if Sungmin were to be his. Sungmin would always be last place, beneath all this violence and anger, hatred and brutality, and that isn't where Sungmin belongs.
Just like that, Sungmin is abandoned again. Sungmin is abandoned by Yesung like Yesung is being abandoned by his own existence. A shell that knows nothing but fighting - fighting for his brothers, for his friends, for anyone but himself.
It's a harsh life, he thinks, one that Sungmin shouldn't intersect with.
-
In the end, Yesung is still as blind as he ever was, but Sungmin still holds onto hope, the one emotion he realized Yesung had long since discarded.
But Sungmin knows Yesung hasn't given up on him yet; no matter if it's by the longing gaze in the man's eyes, or the subtle language in his movements, Sungmin knows he still matters.
And that, that is all that matters to Sungmin.
-
Something in his chest aches, Yesung reckons, as he's laying on the cold cement ground, bordered by bodies - injured and unconscious - with his slick sweat rolling down the sides of his face, smothered in his sideburns along with something thick and fluidic that reeks of iron and metals.
His eyes sting from the invasion of a red blur, the more he blinks the more the blur blinds him.
Suddenly, a familiar voice speaks out to him.
“Yesung, are you alright? Where does it hurt?”
Yesung wonders if the wound on his temple isn't obvious enough, or if the mess of blood and sweat trailing down his head isn't enough of a clue, but then his mind and heart register the voice, the touch, the gentle, gentle breath blowing against his cheek, the soft, soft hand against his aching heart.
His head is throbbing, his vision darkening by the second.
“I don't want to be blind,” he mutters, his left hand grasping Sungmin's tightly against his chest.
There is no reply aside from a silent hush, Sungmin planting a kiss to his damp forehead. “It's alright,” Sungmin chants to him, “I've called the ambulance, they'll be right here. You're going to be okay.”
As stupid as it was, Yesung believed Sungmin - believed that everything would return to normal, that the pain would go away, that the blood would be drained from his eyes.
He falls asleep and days - no, weeks - later he awakes.
All Yesung sees is black; dark, dark black.
-
“The weapon that struck your skull was sharp enough, accurate enough, and hard enough to erupt an orbital artery in your skull. The blood has clogged and, therefore, has blinded you. I cannot tell you how long it will take - or if it's even possible - that the clog will disperse. I'm sorry, Yesung-sshi, but we can only hope for the best.”
Yesung almost laughs in the doctors face at the doctors declaration. Hadn't the doctor known that Yesung had given up on hope a long, long time ago?
Hope. What was hope?
-
“Nice to meet you, I'm Sungmin.”
“I know who you are. I lost my sight, not my memory.”
Sungmin smiles weakly at Yesung's new-found hostility. “Oh, really? But I don't feel as if I know you, Kim Jongwoon.”
“How-” Yesung wants to ask, but bites down on his tongue. “It doesn't matter. I don't want to know you.”
“But I do,” Sungmin replies. “I want to get to know you better, Jongwoon-sshi. Won't you give it a try? I'll stay by your side, every step of your way, and we can take the time to get to know each other.”
“I said I don't-”
“I was born on the first day of the year,” Sungmin interrupts. Yesung fidgets in his hospital bed awkwardly, his hands gripping the sheets with a grasp so hard that his nails are nearly pinching through the sheets into his own palm. A tender hand lands on his own. “I love to exercise and I love to learn new things. You know, I've always had my eyes on a certain blind man-”
Yesung pulls his hand away. “Don't lie, don't pity me.”
“See? You don't know me as well as you think, Jongwoon-sshi. I don't lie and I don't play the pity card on anyone, either. You see, this man I loved saw nothing but what he wanted to see; all he saw was a future filled with darkness. He couldn't even truly see me, even though he had such deep feelings for myself. Wouldn't you agree that he was quite blind?”
“You knew-”
Sungmin chuckled. “But now, now I think he can finally open his eyes.”
Yesung chews on his bottom lip. “You don't care that I'm blind?”
“No,” Sungmin replies simply. He once again takes Yesung's hand into his own. “On the contrary, I don't think you've ever been so perfect in your life.”
At those words, Yesung feels a stream of relief course throughout his body. He feels light, as if his entire existence is nothing but a feather, and Sungmin, Sungmin feels so right in his hold. He tugs lightly on the hand extended to him and Sungmin collapses against him, into him. “Thank you,” Yesung whispers into Sungmin's neck, “thank you.”
Sungmin holds back the tears threatening to pool from his eyes, each longing they both had for each other becoming a reality instead of a faraway dream. He shakes his head, his arms wrapping tighter around Yesung's shoulders.
And Yesung, Yesung feels as if the future ahead of him has finally cleared its way.
Yesung learns how to hope again.
-----
kendayawind's Yemin this way~ [ ILC13: Yemin]
-----
[ILC12: Heeteuk] ♦ [ILC14: Haemin]
-----
A/N: ..ahaha...hah... two weeks late.. ahah >.> Sorry, Nyx ;A; I'm trying to catch up. I swear, I am. Anyhow.. I know this sucks, like, really hard. I don't even know how to reprimand or explain myself (aside from telling you that I have been working ungodly hours T.T and have almost no time to myself at all..) but I seriously don't know what else/how to write... T.T I'm so sorry.
Btw, read Nyx's Yemin! It is awwwwwwwwwwesome ;A; Thanks for reading!