Fairytales [Minho / Taemin]
Title: Fairytales
Author: ascarybook
Pairing: broken!2Min
Rating: PG for Character Death.~
Summary: Minho's been gone for months now and Taemin's still just the shell of the person he used to be. Existing, that's all he does. Taemin exists.
A/N: This is Unbeta'd, so please excuse any grammatical failures.
Taemin used to believe in fairytales. He used to believe in happy endings. You know, the kind where the guy slays the dragon, rescues the girl and they ride off into the sunset on the back of his pearly white horse. He used to believe in love. The kind of love that could fill you up from the inside. The kind that could fix anything, endure anything. The kind worth living for, and dying for, and killing for, and starting wars for.
Taemin used to be happy. He used to smile. You know, the kind where his eyes crinkled at the corners and all of his teeth showed. The kind that was contagious, infectious. The kind that could warm you deep down to your bones. The kind that could make even the worst of days seem a little bit brighter.
But those days left him a long time ago. His fairytale dreams belong to someone else now.
The worst part of it is, he can't even remember the last time he smiled and meant it. His days are full of tears that won't stop falling and words he never got the chance to say.
Sometimes, if he tries hard enough, he can still taste what it feels like to be happy.
Sometimes, if he closes his eyes as tight as he can, he swears he can still see Minho. Minho, who was all long legs and brilliant smiles and flaming charisma. Minho, who never gave up. Minho, who rarely got sick. Minho, who would kiss Taemin's eyelids before drifting off to sleep. Minho, who would lace his long fingers around Taemin's smaller ones when no one was looking. Minho, who promised to stay with Taemin until his last breathe took him away.
Stupid boy, Taemin thinks. He always did keep his promises.
Minho's been gone for months now, and Taemin still cries himself to sleep every single night. Minho's been gone for months now, and Taemin still won't take off the plastic ring Minho won for him that one time they went to the arcade. Minho's been gone for months now, and Taemin still won't step foot outside the house. Minho's been gone for months now, and Taemin's still can't believe that he's gone.
Minho's been gone for months now and Taemin's still just the shell of the person he used to be. Existing, that's all he does. Taemin exists. Deep down, he knows that's because all the good in his heart died along with Minho. All the smiles, and the sunsets, the plastic rings and the kisses hidden underneath blanket forts. All the plans for the future, the promises of happily ever afters. Gone. All of it.
So he sleeps. And he sleeps. And he sleeps. He sleeps because he can't bare to see the look of despair on his hyung's faces. He sleeps because he can't bare the thoughts that never leave his head. He sleeps because he can't bare to stay awake in a house filled with nothing but unfulfilled wishes and scars of memories he can barely remember. He sleeps because that's all he can do, that's all he knows how to do. He sleeps, even if the only dreams he seems to have anymore are filled with the worst moment of his life replaying over and over again, like some kind of twisted etch-a-sketch his brain won't let him erase.
It was after having one of the worst nightmares in his entire life, that Taemin wakes up in a cold sweat, his hands curled into fists in his sheets, his heart thudding hard against his chest and ringing in his ears. He blinks his eyes a few times, and let's his eyes adjust. There's black out curtains on his windows, and he can't tell if the sun's up or not.
He takes a few minutes to get his bearings, then reaches under one of his pillows, wiggling his fingers around until they brush against something cold. His phone. He digs it out and stares, just stares, until he gathers up enough courage to dial a phone number he knows better than he knows what day it is.
The phone rings three times, and then straight to voicemail.
This is Choi Minho. I can't get to the phone right now, but leave me a message and I'll call you back when I can.
Taemin stiffles a sob behind his hand, tears already streaming down his face like tiny little waterfalls. When he hears the beep, Taemin hangs up the call.
Another sob, and he punches redial.
This is Choi Minho. I can't get to the phone right now, but leave me a message and I'll call you back when I can.
Taemin's laying down again, his arms cradling one of his pillows against his tiny body, and he's hugging it with all he's got. He hears the beep again, and he hangs up the phone.
Another sob, and Taemin rocks his body back and forth, tears leaving stains like rivers on the pillow he's cuddling.
He punches redial.
This is Choi Minho. I can't get to the phone right now, but leave me a message and I'll call you back when I can.
Taemin takes a breath. It doesn't calm him in the slightest. When he hears the beep, his eyes close as tight as they can, and he chokes back a sob.
“Mi-Mino..It's T-Taeminnie.” He brings a hand up to wipe the newly formed tears that were landing on his cheeks. “I..I..” His voice cracks, and his breath starts to pick up. He's going to hyperventilate if he's not careful. “I miss you..I miss you so much hyung..I..I don't think I can do this anymore..” He pauses and gulps hard, swallowing the saliva that had collected in his mouth. “I don't think I can do this w-without you...Everything hurts..everything hurts so bad Mino..And..” He chokes, trying to keep himself from full on wailing into the phone. “..And I wish that you were here..I wish that I could wake up and you'd still be next to me..”
He hears footsteps and quiet whispers outside his door but he doesn't care.
“I love you..I love you so much...and I need you so badly..I need you here, I need you with me, I need you to make me feel okay again..Please--”
He's cut off a second later by another beep, signaling that he was at the end of his message time. “Fuck.” He breathes, and it comes out like a sob as he tosses his phone down by the end of his bed. His body's curled up around the pillow as much as he can get it.
It only takes him two minutes before he sits up and reaches down for his phone, eyes still brimming with tears yet to be shed as he hits redial for the third time.
This is Choi Minho. I can't get to the phone right now, but leave me a message and I'll call you back when I can.
He listens until the beep, then hangs up and pushes redial again. Wash, rinse, repeat, wash, rinse, repeat.
It's a little sick, and he knows it. He's lost, and crazy, and he knows it. He's broken and barely living and sadness eats him from the inside out, and he knows it. But he holds onto his phone like it's the anchor that keeps him from fully disappearing. He holds onto that voice, those words, like they're the very air in his lungs. .
After a while, he sleeps. It's a dreamless, colorless sort of sleep, the kind that he'll never remember when he wakes up.
Taemin used to smile, and laugh, and live, and love. But those days are over, those smiles fading like pages of an old book that hasn't left the shelf in years. Voicemail greetings, pictures hidden in boxes and tear stained pillows. They aren't much, but they're the best has, remnants of those times when he still believed in fairy tales.
A/N: For anyone who's confused, Minho's dead, and Taemin's calling his old voice mail to hear his voice.
Author: ascarybook
Pairing: broken!2Min
Rating: PG for Character Death.~
Summary: Minho's been gone for months now and Taemin's still just the shell of the person he used to be. Existing, that's all he does. Taemin exists.
A/N: This is Unbeta'd, so please excuse any grammatical failures.
Taemin used to believe in fairytales. He used to believe in happy endings. You know, the kind where the guy slays the dragon, rescues the girl and they ride off into the sunset on the back of his pearly white horse. He used to believe in love. The kind of love that could fill you up from the inside. The kind that could fix anything, endure anything. The kind worth living for, and dying for, and killing for, and starting wars for.
Taemin used to be happy. He used to smile. You know, the kind where his eyes crinkled at the corners and all of his teeth showed. The kind that was contagious, infectious. The kind that could warm you deep down to your bones. The kind that could make even the worst of days seem a little bit brighter.
But those days left him a long time ago. His fairytale dreams belong to someone else now.
The worst part of it is, he can't even remember the last time he smiled and meant it. His days are full of tears that won't stop falling and words he never got the chance to say.
Sometimes, if he tries hard enough, he can still taste what it feels like to be happy.
Sometimes, if he closes his eyes as tight as he can, he swears he can still see Minho. Minho, who was all long legs and brilliant smiles and flaming charisma. Minho, who never gave up. Minho, who rarely got sick. Minho, who would kiss Taemin's eyelids before drifting off to sleep. Minho, who would lace his long fingers around Taemin's smaller ones when no one was looking. Minho, who promised to stay with Taemin until his last breathe took him away.
Stupid boy, Taemin thinks. He always did keep his promises.
Minho's been gone for months now, and Taemin still cries himself to sleep every single night. Minho's been gone for months now, and Taemin still won't take off the plastic ring Minho won for him that one time they went to the arcade. Minho's been gone for months now, and Taemin still won't step foot outside the house. Minho's been gone for months now, and Taemin's still can't believe that he's gone.
Minho's been gone for months now and Taemin's still just the shell of the person he used to be. Existing, that's all he does. Taemin exists. Deep down, he knows that's because all the good in his heart died along with Minho. All the smiles, and the sunsets, the plastic rings and the kisses hidden underneath blanket forts. All the plans for the future, the promises of happily ever afters. Gone. All of it.
So he sleeps. And he sleeps. And he sleeps. He sleeps because he can't bare to see the look of despair on his hyung's faces. He sleeps because he can't bare the thoughts that never leave his head. He sleeps because he can't bare to stay awake in a house filled with nothing but unfulfilled wishes and scars of memories he can barely remember. He sleeps because that's all he can do, that's all he knows how to do. He sleeps, even if the only dreams he seems to have anymore are filled with the worst moment of his life replaying over and over again, like some kind of twisted etch-a-sketch his brain won't let him erase.
It was after having one of the worst nightmares in his entire life, that Taemin wakes up in a cold sweat, his hands curled into fists in his sheets, his heart thudding hard against his chest and ringing in his ears. He blinks his eyes a few times, and let's his eyes adjust. There's black out curtains on his windows, and he can't tell if the sun's up or not.
He takes a few minutes to get his bearings, then reaches under one of his pillows, wiggling his fingers around until they brush against something cold. His phone. He digs it out and stares, just stares, until he gathers up enough courage to dial a phone number he knows better than he knows what day it is.
The phone rings three times, and then straight to voicemail.
This is Choi Minho. I can't get to the phone right now, but leave me a message and I'll call you back when I can.
Taemin stiffles a sob behind his hand, tears already streaming down his face like tiny little waterfalls. When he hears the beep, Taemin hangs up the call.
Another sob, and he punches redial.
This is Choi Minho. I can't get to the phone right now, but leave me a message and I'll call you back when I can.
Taemin's laying down again, his arms cradling one of his pillows against his tiny body, and he's hugging it with all he's got. He hears the beep again, and he hangs up the phone.
Another sob, and Taemin rocks his body back and forth, tears leaving stains like rivers on the pillow he's cuddling.
He punches redial.
This is Choi Minho. I can't get to the phone right now, but leave me a message and I'll call you back when I can.
Taemin takes a breath. It doesn't calm him in the slightest. When he hears the beep, his eyes close as tight as they can, and he chokes back a sob.
“Mi-Mino..It's T-Taeminnie.” He brings a hand up to wipe the newly formed tears that were landing on his cheeks. “I..I..” His voice cracks, and his breath starts to pick up. He's going to hyperventilate if he's not careful. “I miss you..I miss you so much hyung..I..I don't think I can do this anymore..” He pauses and gulps hard, swallowing the saliva that had collected in his mouth. “I don't think I can do this w-without you...Everything hurts..everything hurts so bad Mino..And..” He chokes, trying to keep himself from full on wailing into the phone. “..And I wish that you were here..I wish that I could wake up and you'd still be next to me..”
He hears footsteps and quiet whispers outside his door but he doesn't care.
“I love you..I love you so much...and I need you so badly..I need you here, I need you with me, I need you to make me feel okay again..Please--”
He's cut off a second later by another beep, signaling that he was at the end of his message time. “Fuck.” He breathes, and it comes out like a sob as he tosses his phone down by the end of his bed. His body's curled up around the pillow as much as he can get it.
It only takes him two minutes before he sits up and reaches down for his phone, eyes still brimming with tears yet to be shed as he hits redial for the third time.
This is Choi Minho. I can't get to the phone right now, but leave me a message and I'll call you back when I can.
He listens until the beep, then hangs up and pushes redial again. Wash, rinse, repeat, wash, rinse, repeat.
It's a little sick, and he knows it. He's lost, and crazy, and he knows it. He's broken and barely living and sadness eats him from the inside out, and he knows it. But he holds onto his phone like it's the anchor that keeps him from fully disappearing. He holds onto that voice, those words, like they're the very air in his lungs. .
After a while, he sleeps. It's a dreamless, colorless sort of sleep, the kind that he'll never remember when he wakes up.
Taemin used to smile, and laugh, and live, and love. But those days are over, those smiles fading like pages of an old book that hasn't left the shelf in years. Voicemail greetings, pictures hidden in boxes and tear stained pillows. They aren't much, but they're the best has, remnants of those times when he still believed in fairy tales.
A/N: For anyone who's confused, Minho's dead, and Taemin's calling his old voice mail to hear his voice.