round 06, challenge two: entry #07
Title: far from the tree
Fandom and Pairing: Exo, Suho
Rating: G
Word Count: 200
Prompt/s Used: Word Set
Summary: Suho knows what he doesn't want to be.
Warnings: N/A
Joonmyun cheats on a Geometry test in the seventh grade. The slip of paper is soft from him clenching it in his fist and the ink bleeds onto his palms a little; he is convinced that it will never wash off. In the school bathroom, he soaps his hands until his knuckles bleed.
Joonmyun's head is bowed but his father says nothing, just uncrosses his ankles and flips the newspaper over. Behind him is the window and behind the window is Seoul. The morning sun ricochets off office buildings and casts wandering circles of light onto the table.
“Do you think I got where I am because I'm honest?” his father says.
Joonmyun doesn't feel forgiven. He feels damned.
Joonmyun takes vocal lessons until his throat erupts in nodes and he thinks he'll never sing again. He dances until his hamstring tears and the back of his thigh looks like a Rorschach. He is going to earn it. But after the representative grips his shoulder and apologizes, “Maybe next year,” Joonmyun goes to his room, pulls the sheet over his head, watches the cotton rise and fall with his breath, and thinks about how he would do anything.
Fandom and Pairing: Exo, Suho
Rating: G
Word Count: 200
Prompt/s Used: Word Set
Summary: Suho knows what he doesn't want to be.
Warnings: N/A
Joonmyun cheats on a Geometry test in the seventh grade. The slip of paper is soft from him clenching it in his fist and the ink bleeds onto his palms a little; he is convinced that it will never wash off. In the school bathroom, he soaps his hands until his knuckles bleed.
Joonmyun's head is bowed but his father says nothing, just uncrosses his ankles and flips the newspaper over. Behind him is the window and behind the window is Seoul. The morning sun ricochets off office buildings and casts wandering circles of light onto the table.
“Do you think I got where I am because I'm honest?” his father says.
Joonmyun doesn't feel forgiven. He feels damned.
Joonmyun takes vocal lessons until his throat erupts in nodes and he thinks he'll never sing again. He dances until his hamstring tears and the back of his thigh looks like a Rorschach. He is going to earn it. But after the representative grips his shoulder and apologizes, “Maybe next year,” Joonmyun goes to his room, pulls the sheet over his head, watches the cotton rise and fall with his breath, and thinks about how he would do anything.