drabble dump; viii
church bells chime
+ kaisoo ; louder than sirens / louder than bells / sweeter than heaven / and hotter than hell
kyungsoo reaches out and his fingers graze across a glass surface, pressing lightly against the cold, icy exterior. white flashes against his eyelids, beautiful and pure and untouched. untainted. a bridge of potential that sings across open skies, above clouds, and sometimes kyungsoo wishes he could fly - just to touch the sky. just to see how it feels, if it would feel as good as he hopes, as he dreams.
he knows that dreams and hopeless. sometimes you have what it takes to reach them - enough determination, enough ambition, but kyungsoo can't even stand up for himself. sometimes, that's all it takes to fall, to steal the earth's ground underneath you.
"kyungsoo?" someone says softly behind him, and kyungsoo turns his head. immediately, light dies from his eyes. there's nothing special about looking at other people - such complicated creatures, and kyungsoo doesn't like thinking about them. kyungsoo doesn't like their pitying gazes and their sad murmurs. he doesn't like it at all - abhors it so much that it physically tears him up inside because no one - no one - has ever been exempt. no one. and maybe the fact that no one has dared to try at all hurts him the most. "you have a visitor."
"hyung." soft hands and such a nervous, nervous mouth, hushed kisses behind open doors and laughs that are made of rich dark chocolate. wisps of desire that hangs for every sweat-soaked molecule and the glow of pride, of happiness, after every moment that makes him feel alive.
there are flowers in his hands, but kyungsoo - kyungsoo feels nothing. he should feel happy, or maybe he should feel grateful. maybe he should feel scared that he can't feel anything. but he doesn't. he's just numb. numb all over, like the body before it dies.
"i brought you something," jongin murmurs, his voice never too much higher than a rough whisper. he sets the bouquet down on the side table, and kyungsoo knows he will throw them out later. jongin's flowers are always fresh. they always die.
jongin walks in front of him, kneels down so that he can look kyungsoo in the eye. kyungsoo doesn't move a muscle, doesn't even glance his way. "hyung, please. please." and his voice, it's so raw with emotion and pain and kyungsoo wants to hold him, kiss him, love him like the way he used to but kyungsoo is nothing now. nothing.
"i love you," jongin blubbers, voice cracking. i know, kyungsoo says in his mind, but he doesn't say anything out loud. there's nothing he can say. anything is an excuse. "hyung, i'm so sorry. hyung, please talk to me, i love you, don't leave me, hyung..."
kyungsoo knows that he can never fly to reach his dreams. he can't even walk.
dive right in
+ kyuhae ; i pray that the water will drown out the din / but as the water fills my mouth / it couldn't wash the echoes out
donghae can't sleep at night.
memories of the moment swallows his life whole, encompasses it until everything else becomes blurry and nonsensical. there's an empty pang inside of him that can't be filled, refuses to be filled, doesn't want to be even touched. no matter how much they try, no matter how much they reach out to him, they can't touch him. they can't break through him, because he's already broken
and maybe he likes it that way
so it's hard to fix him. he doesn't even want to be fixed. he doesn't want anything. (that's a lie.)
when he sleeps, everything comes flooding in like a tsunami wave. that beautiful smile, so sad and so accepting at the same time. hands interlocked with his, fingertips pressing against each other, pale skin that's never seen much sunlight. donghae knows that it's bad, it's wrong, people will hate them (people will try to get you to stop) but it's an unsaid sort of decision, a moment of insanity - but he feels like it's never been clearer, the world has never been more exhilarating, his heartbeat has never been running faster.
they say that it's darkest right before dawn, but it's brightest right before death.
water fills his mouth and his lungs burn, they burn with a sort of need a want that he's never experience before and it's so, so aching but it doesn't stop. panic settles and then he flails, desperate but where does the desperation comes from and he remembers jumping, wind against his face, and he remembers someone falling in with him - doe eyes and a sweet smile and small, velvety whispers of hyung it's always you it always will be you
(how could you leave me hyung how i thought you loved me)
and donghae doesn't want to sleep anymore.
when he stays up at night, a ghostly face, beautiful and haunting, stands in front of him and reaches out to cup his cheek gently. he prays, wishes, wants needs with all his heart that it's real, it's true it's there he's there oh god i love you so much more than you know
but it's not real, it's never been real, and donghae feels like he's drowning.
it starts when you're around
+ krislay ; sort of lay!centric ; i swallow the sound and it swallows me whole / till there's nothing left inside my soul
lay sees bright blue and orange.
he dances, he dances, he tries to be perfect. go another mile, try another show! you're our golden boy you can do it you're amazing you're wonderful you're everything we ever wanted - lies lies lies lies
lay doesn't like lies. when he squints, he sees bright blue, like the sky, dots all over smoothly painted skin and burnt sunset orange on hands, like marks of sin. lay doesn't say anything. lay never says anything. lay keeps quiet and pretends to be someone he's not, for the sake of them - for the sake of you - for the sake of us - for the sake of me. lay thinks that sometimes he should just, y'know, take a pill and let it calm down for a while, but orange and blue keeps him sane while the pressure keeps even that at bay.
he sings, he sings, he tries to hit the highest notes and the right emotion, he does. he tries so hard, tries to be that person that they want him to be, that they put up on the pedestal and tell the world about, tries so hard so hard so hard but all he gets are it's good you're great! have you done this before you're wonderful you'll make it big - lies
lies
he sort of wants to write it down somewhere - how these words drive him crazy - he doesn't want perfection - what is perfection - his mind is all over the place he can't think he can't breathe and it's hard, it's so hard, he wants someone to set him right again but what exactly is right and wrong?
burned orange. sky blue. it's on everyone, even himself, except for one person - one person who looks at him and doesn't give him a second glance, doesn't have time for him, doesn't tell him empty and meaningless things that make it difficult for him to breathe - like he's going under all the pressure, like it's an ocean and swallows him whole but it's so quiet and it's so noisy at the same time -
he just wants it to stop, he wants someone to end it, someone to spin him upside down and then upside right again, root him down to the floor so everything doesn't feel like he's walking in water up to his mouth, doesn't feel like a rollercoaster twisting and turning and letting everyone believe in their cracked, flawed renditions of who he is and who he's supposed to be - who are you supposed to be -
kris kisses him backstage during their concerts and colours fade away into monochrome, everything stills, and lay can finally hear the sound of his heartbeat thrumming, alive, underneath his fingers.
all drabbles inspired by florence + the machine - drumming song.