Fic: Where the crystal sea meets the azure skies 1/7
Where the crystal sea meets the azure skies
JaeMin, Changmin/Kyuhyun, JaeHo ; PG-13 ; 1/7
Trapped in room with no way out, surrounded by endless sky and sea, can one find his strength all by himself?
He doesn't seem to be able to feel, nothing past this endless sea of sadness that surrounded his heart.
Changmin looks, but doesn't see. Even if he did, there would be nothing but monotony and a cold, numbing wind. All that surrounds him is cold, unwelcoming stone that drains away all warmth, and up in his tower of frigid drafts and solitude, he is far separated, but yet encompassed by the dark grey sea and the equally dark grey sky, churning and moving with the wind, gelid and waiting for him, for his soul, for his life when he breaks and flies out-- over--
"CHANGMIN!!"
There's a clatter, and a scraping sound, and Changmin realizes that he can hear someone shouting, and someone's tugging on his hand, puling him away and he's falling to the ground, tailbone knocking against the floor painfully, jolting him into some awareness, and he realizes that besides his bottom, his hand hurts. He pulls it from whoever's holding onto it, wanting to know what's wrong, and how come it stings, and why it's so warm. And the moment he sees the blistering, red skin, he looks up, and Jaejoong's slapping his shoulder, and Yunho's in the room pulling him up, Junsu and Yoochun hovering at the kitchen doorway. Their faces are all contorted in some negative emotion, his mind supplies, but he doesn't delve any further, instead sighing and lifting his hand to poke at the damaged skin.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?"
"Are you ok?"
"Hey! Changmin! Oi!"
"This is bad, we need to call a doctor. Yoochun--"
"HEY, IDIOT!"
"What was he doing?"
"He won't answer, Yunho!"
"His hand was on the pan?!?"
Changmin knew they were talking, he could hear, but he couldn't take it in, wasn't understanding. They were making noise, syllables that formed words that formed sentences in a language he knew but couldn't comprehend. He was still in his cold stone tower, surrounded by grey skies and choppy grey seas and his heart was weighed down by a frost that started from the inside, slowly hardening the tissue and muscle until the organ weighed heavy in his chest, pressing down on his throat and making it hard for him to breathe.
Suddenly he feels disoriented, as if he were suddenly lying down (he was). There was a stinging sensation on his cheek, and he blinked, looking at Jaejoong who was red in the face, and then at Yunho, and there was a hand holding his chin, directing his gaze at some bright light, and then there was an old man leaning back with the most sombre expression, so sad, that Changmin wanted to ask him if he was stuck too, and if he was, did that mean that there was more than one tower? Or did he share his tower?
He turned his head to the side-- ah. He was on his bed, it seemed. He watched dust motes float in the watery sunlight that infiltrated his room, slipping in through gaps in the curtains, and wondered what it would be like to feel warm again.
People keep money for the sake of living through tomorrow.
For the sake of talking about tomorrow, people have friends.
For the sake of looking forward tomorrow, they love.
For the sake of living tomorrow, they have life.
People and life exists and has meaning.
The world has meaning because tomorrow exists.
"What will tomorrow be like?"
つづく
Post-note:
I'm so sorry if this came out as abstract, but I'll be continuing this. I'll do my best to post once a week :) This is based mostly on my own experiences, and is meant to be a liberating story. I'm pretty sure that I'm not alone, so if I touch your heart somehow, if you can relate somehow, it'll be such a precious thing for me.
JaeMin, Changmin/Kyuhyun, JaeHo ; PG-13 ; 1/7
Trapped in room with no way out, surrounded by endless sky and sea, can one find his strength all by himself?
He doesn't seem to be able to feel, nothing past this endless sea of sadness that surrounded his heart.
Changmin looks, but doesn't see. Even if he did, there would be nothing but monotony and a cold, numbing wind. All that surrounds him is cold, unwelcoming stone that drains away all warmth, and up in his tower of frigid drafts and solitude, he is far separated, but yet encompassed by the dark grey sea and the equally dark grey sky, churning and moving with the wind, gelid and waiting for him, for his soul, for his life when he breaks and flies out-- over--
"CHANGMIN!!"
There's a clatter, and a scraping sound, and Changmin realizes that he can hear someone shouting, and someone's tugging on his hand, puling him away and he's falling to the ground, tailbone knocking against the floor painfully, jolting him into some awareness, and he realizes that besides his bottom, his hand hurts. He pulls it from whoever's holding onto it, wanting to know what's wrong, and how come it stings, and why it's so warm. And the moment he sees the blistering, red skin, he looks up, and Jaejoong's slapping his shoulder, and Yunho's in the room pulling him up, Junsu and Yoochun hovering at the kitchen doorway. Their faces are all contorted in some negative emotion, his mind supplies, but he doesn't delve any further, instead sighing and lifting his hand to poke at the damaged skin.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?"
"Are you ok?"
"Hey! Changmin! Oi!"
"This is bad, we need to call a doctor. Yoochun--"
"HEY, IDIOT!"
"What was he doing?"
"He won't answer, Yunho!"
"His hand was on the pan?!?"
Changmin knew they were talking, he could hear, but he couldn't take it in, wasn't understanding. They were making noise, syllables that formed words that formed sentences in a language he knew but couldn't comprehend. He was still in his cold stone tower, surrounded by grey skies and choppy grey seas and his heart was weighed down by a frost that started from the inside, slowly hardening the tissue and muscle until the organ weighed heavy in his chest, pressing down on his throat and making it hard for him to breathe.
Suddenly he feels disoriented, as if he were suddenly lying down (he was). There was a stinging sensation on his cheek, and he blinked, looking at Jaejoong who was red in the face, and then at Yunho, and there was a hand holding his chin, directing his gaze at some bright light, and then there was an old man leaning back with the most sombre expression, so sad, that Changmin wanted to ask him if he was stuck too, and if he was, did that mean that there was more than one tower? Or did he share his tower?
He turned his head to the side-- ah. He was on his bed, it seemed. He watched dust motes float in the watery sunlight that infiltrated his room, slipping in through gaps in the curtains, and wondered what it would be like to feel warm again.
People keep money for the sake of living through tomorrow.
For the sake of talking about tomorrow, people have friends.
For the sake of looking forward tomorrow, they love.
For the sake of living tomorrow, they have life.
People and life exists and has meaning.
The world has meaning because tomorrow exists.
"What will tomorrow be like?"
つづく
Post-note:
I'm so sorry if this came out as abstract, but I'll be continuing this. I'll do my best to post once a week :) This is based mostly on my own experiences, and is meant to be a liberating story. I'm pretty sure that I'm not alone, so if I touch your heart somehow, if you can relate somehow, it'll be such a precious thing for me.