anon meme prompt fills (6)
a familiar smile | pg
sehun/luhan
∑: sehun wakes up inside a plane he doesn't remember boarding.
(for this prompt)
before he opens his eyes, the only thing he can register is that everything is quiet. a split second later, everything becomes unbearably painful: the white light coming in through his eyelids, the muscles on his neck, the bruises on his body. and then there's the truth; it slips away from sehun as he opens his eyes. the tail end of it dances teasingly at the tip of his tongue and then disappears into oblivion. this is when sehun is rushed into consciousness; this is when sehun realizes that he doesn't remember a thing.
he gets out of the chair with much difficulty. and though he can tell that the plush chair and considerable leg room was made for comfort, it's not enough for his damaged body. according to his pain level, he should be involved in some kind of crash. according to the way his mind is still hazy from confusion, the aircraft that he now stands in, shouldn't be in such pristine condition. and yet sehun is the only thing worse for wear in the entire vicinity. he is alone. and unless some kind of mastermind has pulled off a mass murder involving everyone on the plane except for sehun, sehun is in some kind of dream.
something is wrong and that, sehun knows for sure. if not for the fact that he's alone on a airplane, sehun knows there's something wrong because he can feel it in his gut. he racks his mind as he walks down the narrow aisles to the economy section, where the seats are far closer together. he looks for clues in the overhead bins, in the seat pockets, in the stewardesses' chambers. there is nothing.
sehun goes back to his seat. it's the only thing that grounds him because that's the place where he had woken up last - the first thing in his memory and possibly the only thing that connects him to the past. he slouches forward in the seat, resting his forehead on his hands. closing his eyes, he tries to think - of solutions, of clues, of anything.
he jerks up in a matter of minutes, realizing he has not checked his person. he goes through his coat, his pants, his breast pocket. he finds no passport, no ticket. he starts to doubt that he's even meant to be on this plane when a cold blast blows through the entire aircraft. it's the door, sehun realizes; it's open. and though it's not like the thought has never occurred to him, sehun's afraid of what's beyond, of what lies outside of this airplane.
the blast is so powerful that sehun pushes up his arms to shield his eyes. he clenches his jaw. and through it all, all he can think is, "where are you?"
he doesn't know who he's referring to, who he's searching for. the question is the only thing coursing through his fear-addled mind. but before he has any time to ponder it, the wind stops abruptly. when sehun puts his arms down, he discovers a figure standing several meters away from him. sehun freezes.
logically, he should be wary. he should be scared. but instead, relief washes over his entire body and he only barely manages to stop the tears from running down his cheeks. the figure smiles at him, eyes crinkling in a pleasant way that makes him look older, but not ugly. it makes him appear familiar and the way the man's lips twitch in amusement as he smiles makes sehun's chest ache with a strength he's never experienced before.
"lu-" and sehun doesn't know where the foreign words are coming from. it's certainly not korean and he's never studied any other language. he shouldn't know any foreign words, much less foreign names. but, "luhan" sehun says. "luhan" sehun repeats.
the figure's smile turns melancholy. there's a sad droop to his lips and his eyes turn downcast. his head turns away from sehun, followed by his body. sehun's already walking, jogging, running towards him. sehun's hands are outstretched, fingers reaching. his shoulders physically hurt from the effort of trying to reach out every last bit of him. all sehun knows is that he must grab the other man, must stop him from leaving.
"no!" sehun shouts, but the wind is back, more powerful than ever. it knocks sehun off his feet and as he hits the floor, sehun thinks, "this is the end."
and he's right to a certain degree.
sehun finally wakes to worried family members and friends. they are gathered around his bedside, dressed in black. his mother cries when someone tells her that sehun has opened his eyes. there's reassuring hand in his, gripping vice-like, as if it's an anchor for fear he'll slip off into unconsciousness again. he can't help but feel lost still.
over the next few days, people filter in and out of his home. they bring him flowers and get well cards. there are other cards too, black ones with depressing words written on them. sehun doesn't look at those. the white flowers on his windowsill are changed every day and sehun tries not to look at those either. but today, as the suited men with white gloves carry a long box out to an even longer car, sehun can't help but look past the white flowers out the window.
the last person to visit that day is jongin. he leaves a rather bulky envelope by sehun's bed.
"he would have wanted you to have these" jongin says. his unused white gloves are stuffed in his breast pocket. "he-" and jongin pauses here to swallow down tears. "it was a surprise. you were supposed to join him after a few days but-"
jongin looks away, words caught in his throat again. sehun's blank eyes bore holds into the airline logo emblazoned on the side of the envelope. when jongin leaves, when the long car pulls away, everything is quiet. it reminds him too much of his dream, when he woke up in that plane without anyone else.
sehun shouts, screams, and yells. incoherently screaming, sehun puts all of his memories into his voice, letting it all leave his body. he thrashes and upends his bedside table where the envelope lies. it falls, spilling its contents to the floor. and when sehun has run out of energy, panting, heaving on the floor, he finally lets himself look at the contents of that envelope. among the scattered papers, there's a passport, flipped open to a well used page. the figure in the passport picture looks up smiling at him.
"lu han" it reads below the photograph.
the smile is as real as sehun remembers.
+++
posting old things that i
edited somewhat...
this was from a while back.
:)
sehun/luhan
∑: sehun wakes up inside a plane he doesn't remember boarding.
(for this prompt)
before he opens his eyes, the only thing he can register is that everything is quiet. a split second later, everything becomes unbearably painful: the white light coming in through his eyelids, the muscles on his neck, the bruises on his body. and then there's the truth; it slips away from sehun as he opens his eyes. the tail end of it dances teasingly at the tip of his tongue and then disappears into oblivion. this is when sehun is rushed into consciousness; this is when sehun realizes that he doesn't remember a thing.
he gets out of the chair with much difficulty. and though he can tell that the plush chair and considerable leg room was made for comfort, it's not enough for his damaged body. according to his pain level, he should be involved in some kind of crash. according to the way his mind is still hazy from confusion, the aircraft that he now stands in, shouldn't be in such pristine condition. and yet sehun is the only thing worse for wear in the entire vicinity. he is alone. and unless some kind of mastermind has pulled off a mass murder involving everyone on the plane except for sehun, sehun is in some kind of dream.
something is wrong and that, sehun knows for sure. if not for the fact that he's alone on a airplane, sehun knows there's something wrong because he can feel it in his gut. he racks his mind as he walks down the narrow aisles to the economy section, where the seats are far closer together. he looks for clues in the overhead bins, in the seat pockets, in the stewardesses' chambers. there is nothing.
sehun goes back to his seat. it's the only thing that grounds him because that's the place where he had woken up last - the first thing in his memory and possibly the only thing that connects him to the past. he slouches forward in the seat, resting his forehead on his hands. closing his eyes, he tries to think - of solutions, of clues, of anything.
he jerks up in a matter of minutes, realizing he has not checked his person. he goes through his coat, his pants, his breast pocket. he finds no passport, no ticket. he starts to doubt that he's even meant to be on this plane when a cold blast blows through the entire aircraft. it's the door, sehun realizes; it's open. and though it's not like the thought has never occurred to him, sehun's afraid of what's beyond, of what lies outside of this airplane.
the blast is so powerful that sehun pushes up his arms to shield his eyes. he clenches his jaw. and through it all, all he can think is, "where are you?"
he doesn't know who he's referring to, who he's searching for. the question is the only thing coursing through his fear-addled mind. but before he has any time to ponder it, the wind stops abruptly. when sehun puts his arms down, he discovers a figure standing several meters away from him. sehun freezes.
logically, he should be wary. he should be scared. but instead, relief washes over his entire body and he only barely manages to stop the tears from running down his cheeks. the figure smiles at him, eyes crinkling in a pleasant way that makes him look older, but not ugly. it makes him appear familiar and the way the man's lips twitch in amusement as he smiles makes sehun's chest ache with a strength he's never experienced before.
"lu-" and sehun doesn't know where the foreign words are coming from. it's certainly not korean and he's never studied any other language. he shouldn't know any foreign words, much less foreign names. but, "luhan" sehun says. "luhan" sehun repeats.
the figure's smile turns melancholy. there's a sad droop to his lips and his eyes turn downcast. his head turns away from sehun, followed by his body. sehun's already walking, jogging, running towards him. sehun's hands are outstretched, fingers reaching. his shoulders physically hurt from the effort of trying to reach out every last bit of him. all sehun knows is that he must grab the other man, must stop him from leaving.
"no!" sehun shouts, but the wind is back, more powerful than ever. it knocks sehun off his feet and as he hits the floor, sehun thinks, "this is the end."
and he's right to a certain degree.
sehun finally wakes to worried family members and friends. they are gathered around his bedside, dressed in black. his mother cries when someone tells her that sehun has opened his eyes. there's reassuring hand in his, gripping vice-like, as if it's an anchor for fear he'll slip off into unconsciousness again. he can't help but feel lost still.
over the next few days, people filter in and out of his home. they bring him flowers and get well cards. there are other cards too, black ones with depressing words written on them. sehun doesn't look at those. the white flowers on his windowsill are changed every day and sehun tries not to look at those either. but today, as the suited men with white gloves carry a long box out to an even longer car, sehun can't help but look past the white flowers out the window.
the last person to visit that day is jongin. he leaves a rather bulky envelope by sehun's bed.
"he would have wanted you to have these" jongin says. his unused white gloves are stuffed in his breast pocket. "he-" and jongin pauses here to swallow down tears. "it was a surprise. you were supposed to join him after a few days but-"
jongin looks away, words caught in his throat again. sehun's blank eyes bore holds into the airline logo emblazoned on the side of the envelope. when jongin leaves, when the long car pulls away, everything is quiet. it reminds him too much of his dream, when he woke up in that plane without anyone else.
sehun shouts, screams, and yells. incoherently screaming, sehun puts all of his memories into his voice, letting it all leave his body. he thrashes and upends his bedside table where the envelope lies. it falls, spilling its contents to the floor. and when sehun has run out of energy, panting, heaving on the floor, he finally lets himself look at the contents of that envelope. among the scattered papers, there's a passport, flipped open to a well used page. the figure in the passport picture looks up smiling at him.
"lu han" it reads below the photograph.
the smile is as real as sehun remembers.
+++
posting old things that i
edited somewhat...
this was from a while back.
:)