SCATTERED CLOUDS for COPPERTEARS [2/2]
000000000092
The first time Jongin steps foot into Chanyeol’s apartment it’s towards the end of April. Chanyeol apologizes for their mess, says that only Minseok cleans and she’s too tired most of the time. But he cooks sometimes so he makes her lunch - it’s nothing special and they eat quietly. Jongin feels comfortable looking around the place, noticing bits of Chanyeol scattered around - his hoodie, a book, his dark blue coffee mug in the sink - unwashed, no one has time.
He’ll be honest because she always is honest with him. She speaks few words but her actions are loud and sometimes not subtle hints but flashing red lights in the middle of the street when she tries to walk as fast as he does or puts his glasses in the case because he’s sometimes careless and they’re important.
“Do you love me?”
“I don’t understand,” She’s avoiding his eyes as she says it and trying to let go of his hand. He holds on tight.
“It’s a yes or no question, Jongin.” He wishes it were that simple, but for now he can pretend it is and risk everything for her answer and he hopes it’s a yes because he wants to try to love her too, wants to share everything in his locked desk drawers with her, everything in his head and on the pages of his research notes.
“I’m...” Her hands are shaking and she’s still not looking at him, not daring to, she’s blinking more than usually, might start crying maybe. Chanyeol’s been feeling like crying lately too.
“I’m afraid to answer that,” She admits in a whisper as light as a gust of wind.
“Why? Because you know I can’t love you back?” He spits out angrily, not being able to control his feelings at himself, at her and at everyone that had decided for him what he could and could not feel, what he had the right to. He’s angry at his family for not being like Minseok’s, he’s angry at himself for hurting Jongin and for making Minseok and Luhan hide away from him because they feel sorry for him and guilty of what they were born able to do. He’s taking it out on Jongin and she least deserves it, she’s hurting just as much as he is angry. “Why did you try then when you knew from the beginning?”
“I hoped I was wrong. I always hope for things that are never going to happen.” She sniffles and wipes at her eyes with the sleeve of the jacket she’s wearing. It’s his. She’s curling up into herself, wondering what to do to speak or keep silent, to stay or go, to give him a chance and keep hurting herself or end it before it gets worse.
“I want to try.”
“You can’t try. No one can try when they just don’t have it. You can’t force yourself into it.” She’s upset and young and frail. Chanyeol has never felt more remorseful in his life.
Nothing and no one has made him feel worse.
“But I can and I want to. I think... I think I can work it out but I need your help. I need you to have trust in me and stay. But I won’t hold it against you if you don’t.”
It’s much to ask of her when even though unwillingly he’s caused her all this false happiness and broken hope along his way, but he wants to restore it. If she lets him. He wants all the cliché romance novel metaphors to come true for them. It feels as though everything is dead and she can tend to all the lifeless flowers in his garden and bring them back to life, make them blossom beautifully and make the sun set and rise whenever she wishes it to - only for her, to give her the moon and stars and kisses, heartbeats, wants to share the same air as her, share the same heartbeat, wrap his ribs around her and keep her in that cage so no one touches her, so no one gets to feel the soft skin of her wrists, the flutter of her eyelashes against skin.
She nods her pretty little head, with her smart and organized thoughts and his careless thirst for her and everything he has never before felt, he believes in them. That they can be.
000000000112
Project Aphrodite is what they call it and it’s time-consuming, it deprives Chanyeol and Jongin of sleep and peace. Using the university labs after hours is risky, if Chanyeol and Jongin blew their cover the next step would be the last thing to ever happen to them.
Chanyeol’s no sucker for fairytales and mythology but he knows the story of Song Qian to be true. When they’d started extracting in China her husband had been one of the first. Song Qian saw a soulless man in his place and not the one she had known for so many years. It became something like living with a ghost of past love. Love is fire and he was ice in reality, but sweet as honey in faked actions of concern. Chanyeol knows what hospitality and mutual understanding in a marriage are. His parents’ marriage is more of a contract than an exchange of warm glances and loving gestures. Song Qian’s hands had forgotten the feeling of the warmth of her beloved’s lips upon her fingertips and each day was like being trapped in your worst nightmare and seeing no escape. Wake up, wake up, she’d tell herself, but it never went away. And everyone around her had gone cold like him too. Upon her date of extraction Song Qian had hit her breaking point. They’d come looking for her but all they had found was a lifeless body on the kitchen floor, torn up wedding photos and an empty little container of antidepressants. Her husband had been at work. Her funeral was a lifeless affair, no tears shed, no stories of her life exchanged between friends and family. She’d joined many people like her in death and she had then been one of the first. That had been many years ago.
Chanyeol is tired of feeling cold, tired of looking at Jongin and knowing she’s trying to share bodyheat, he wants to share, so desperately needs to know what it’s like. Jongin is beautiful and he could have her in a sad and lonely moment because she’s fond of him, but he doesn’t know what it’s like to be fond of someone beyond knowing they are aware of so many things about you, share so much, so they’re someone you hold close to you. He wants to be a part of her, for her to be a part of him - like Minseok had said - it’s a feeling of togetherness, being connected by invisible threads of electric want and need, breathing in the same air and having the sheets rumpled at your feet because it’s just so hot next to the other person - they’re enough to keep you the best version of yourself because they’ve helped create it. Chanyeol wishes he were the Song Qian in this story and not the other way around, but unlike the nameless man he’d never had the chance to know love at all.
000000000143
“Where’s Jongin?”
“She went home, said she was tired of looking at me like this.” It’s miserable to admit it. The truth is an ugly thing that lurks inside, waiting to be told, to be shouted and Jongin had spoken out and it’s hard kissing someone when you know they don’t feel like shivers are creeping up and down their spine, when you know that for you that person is willing to break all the rules and not because they’re sure they can climb that mountain, but because they want to. It doesn’t matter to Chanyeol that he might never succeed. He’s carrying that boulder on his shoulders and whenever he reaches the top of the hill something always knocks him down. But Jongin’s kisses are soft and patient. He wants his heart to beat with hers, to make the spaces she occupies theirs, to make a home in his heart for her. She reads him poems sometimes, he tries to understand. He tries so hard to force himself to feel.
Minseok sighs, she’s tired, Chanyeol is tired and everyone is tired of Chanyeol. He feels like his head is just a moment closer to exploding every time someone sighs in exasperation, sympathy, longing, love (whatever it really is) at him. It’s happening too much, too often, too much like knives stabbing into his back.
“We’re all tired of looking at you like this. And I’m tired of looking at Luhan like this too, like someone’s waiting for her at every corner to arrest her. This needs to stop, it’s been months, Chanyeol. It’s too much, for too long.”
“I’m getting closer. I’m almost done, I swear. I just need to run a few more tests, a few more blood samples. It’ll be ready. It’ll be okay.” His hands are shaking as he scribbles in his notebook, pointless things that aren’t even words scattered all over the page, just so he doesn’t have to look at Minseok in the eye. Chanyeol’s never been too great at confrontation and lately it’s getting difficult to not stare at his shoes all the time, always avoiding, avoiding, avoiding.
“Nothing is going to change the fact that you need to stop dragging people into this shit with you. Your obsession with the rebellion, with my family, with our feelings, with everyone who isn’t like you needs to stop.” Minseok’s angry. She’s never angry. Chanyeol knows her and even though he’s been disconnecting himself from everyone lately, she’s never been like this with him.
“You don’t understand,” He mumbles. “You’ll never understand.”
“We live with what we have Chanyeol. That’s all we get. The anger hasn’t intensified, if anything it’s a bit faded - Minseok’s voice is quieter, she sounds calmer, but sombre.
“It feels a little bit like everything has died. Death is all around us and we’re just sat here waiting for it to speak up and tell any one of us ‘it’s your turn’ and I’d risk it all, I’ll risk anything and everything to find out, to know what it’s like, what you feel and I’m selfish, I’m so fucking selfish I know, but please don’t try to stop me from wanting it. I’m stubborn and stupid and I won’t give up.”
Minseok leaves then and Chanyeol musters up the courage to look at her as she opens the door, she looks so small and frail, so tired, she’s so bony and tiny.
“Please, just keep everyone safe and come home, Chanyeol. Sleep.” She’s not wearing her usual makeup, but it seems as though she was - there are dark smudges underneath her eyes, making her seem ghostlike - the exhaustion had caught them all in a sticky web of complications, but at least among it all there was no mistrust - only worry, only hope for everything to be over soon enough. It will be, Chanyeol thinks.
“I’m sorry. I will.”Apologies are powerful, although they sometimes come as an excuse. This time Chanyeol is honest with her and maybe even himself.
The sound of the door closing is heavy in the otherwise quiet room and Chanyeol can’t hear Minseok’s footsteps but knows they’re heavy and he can almost feel the click-clack of her heels on the tiles he’s stepping on.
He goes home two hours later and sleeps a restless three hours before Luhan wakes him up with a cup of coffee - just right as he likes it - no sugar, no additional effort put into it - just black. She comes with good news to share.
000000000156
Sometimes Chanyeol feels the true weight of the danger of it. It’s illegal and it’s unlike anything else he’s ever felt in his life - a rush, like he’s the Robin Hood of modern society. Love is a treasure stolen from an unwilling world in a sad attempt to wipe it from Earth’s memory, but like the ocean never forgets, humans don’t either and it’s stuck with people like Minseok’s family. It’s stuck with Luhan her whole life, knowing her mother and father’s deaths were all because they wanted to keep her heart from being frozen up and her most precious thoughts and most precious little rose petal of a fragile child’s heart from getting lost in the endless abyss of broken things in this sad and lonely existence.
The way Chanyeol understands his lack of the emotion is like his heart is beating but there’s no sound, it’s mute, it can’t sing, can’t scream, can’t whimper and cry out in happiness or anger. It’s more of a sort of device to keep him breathing and it should be okay that way. The closest he’s ever felt to love is feeling grief and not over loss of something he knew, but of something he’s never had - a beating, breathing in life heart. It’s a great responsibility to feel, but a great loss to be unable to.
Chanyeol notices the way Jongin’s hair shines in the sunlight and that she has a beautiful mouth and speaks quietly and is sparse with her words. He notices she’s beautiful. He notices she looks at him kind of like Luhan looks at Minseok and he understands. But he can’t truly process just how painful it must be, definitely more painful than it is for him - wanting to love her and being unable. He feels so remorseful of meeting her, all when she could have someday, at some point in her life stumbled upon maybe someone from the rebellion, someone like her, who would instantly be able to feel the flutter of her fingertips against his skin, would feel the flutter in his ribcage.
It seems ideal to live in a world where hearts beat not only because they have to but because they want and crave to - it sounds like such a complete existence. He’s on his way.
000000000178
The what-ifs swim inside Chanyeol’s thoughts as Jongin prepares the first injection. It’s been a long way coming, fear crippling them. Luhan had been the most vulnerable but her work was done and Minseok is starting to look a bit better, her cheeks are a bit rosier these days and her heart is getting lighter. It’s almost summer and Chanyeol doesn’t know how they’re going to keep up with the injections after the academic year has come to an end, doesn’t know if this will work at all or harm him, kill him even maybe. He hopes it will be over soon and he’ll only need two injections per week at first and then as time passes one and then nothing.
“Jongin?”
She hums in reply as she washes her hands for maybe the seventh time. Her hair’s pulled into a secure bun. This is important for her just as much as it is important for him - for the both of them as a whole.
“Before you...” He can’t say it outloud it seems still like a faraway dream and it’s too exciting, sits at the tip of his tongue and burns burns burns bright in his head, leaving trails of fire behind - he wants it so bad. “Can we... can we kiss?”
It’s just a suggestion and in that moment she looks so shy, so shocked. Chanyeol’s open with her about what he wants, that he wants to feel her - all of her, but they’ve held hands and held each other. The intimate meeting of lips had never been mentioned. Chanyeol wants to converse like that, to feel her mouth on his when it’s most important.
“Just I need to know if it becomes different.” That comes as an excuse for the sake of research but Jongin nods - unbothered. Maybe she was expecting him to ask her something, but not this exactly.
Chanyeol is sitting down but stands up to tower over her, offers her his hand and pulls her to him, tries to imitate Minseok and Luhan but fails miserably because his movements lack any grace at all. Jongin touches his face and the tips of her fingers are a bit cold, but it’s okay.
“Have you ever kissed anyone?” She whispers once their noses are touching, breaths of air mingling and exhales making Chanyeol’s glasses fog up. He shakes his head slightly; the movement causes an Eskimo kiss. Jongin’s smile is dazed. She kisses him rather than the other way around and it’s a whirlwind within her to finally do this, it makes her feel like every part of her has never been so much alive. As if the spaces between his fingers were reserved for hers only, palms pressed together a bit sweaty. He leans down and she leans up and they meet halfway for a second brush of lips. Jongin’s mouth and her kiss is, like everything about her, gentle and soft and graceful, precise. It’s a dance and she’s the one leading him. It’s warm and feels pleasant.
Jongin stands breathless, her face buried in Chanyeol’s shirt, hands clutching at the soft fabric. He has his fingers running through her hair - calming.
“How does it feel?”
“Like everything it should feel like.” Her laugh is like bells - clear and pretty. Chanyeol hopes to lead in kisses in the future, hopes to hold her hands tightly in his because it’s just too much and feels like everything is going into overdrive.
It’s time for the first injection.
000000000199
They continue to kiss before every injection. Every time it’s a bit stronger - the thoughts he has about her, the way he sees her. She gets brighter, stands out more, his vision of her gets clearer and clearer.
She washes her hands carefully and prepares the injection. Chanyeol hates this part - when she disinfects the patch of skin, it’s cold and unpleasant, but he anticipates it. The needle is sharp. There’s always a sting but Jongin is careful as she always is with everything - careful, graceful, poised and beautiful. As the clear liquid disappears from the syringe he calms down. Chanyeol never closes his eyes. He wants to see it, wants to feel the fear and know it’s happening. It’s not just because he hates needles, hates having to wear long sleeved shirts all the time because people are observant and might think things - especially his professors. Taking a drug test is out of the question. The Treatment is no drug - it’s a move forward in life, a move forward into having one foot in the grave because everything feels amplified when you’re closer to her or him. But they don’t understand and they don’t want to.
Jongin guides his fingers to press onto the cotton ball so he doesn’t bleed. He feels a bit shaky like every time because he can’t believe it.
“Breathe,” Jongin reminds. He’d been sitting there looking at her fondly, anticipating what’s to come now, tomorrow, in a year, in ten years. “How do you feel?”
“Better,” He answers.
000000000208
Sehun and Zitao volunteer. They’ve been together for a year, out of the mere necessity of physical closeness. Sehun explains it as something natural but neutral - sharing body warmth in their dorm and it just lead to touches and kisses, but he wants to shiver all over, he wants more than physical. Zitao is friends with Luhan, they’d met the summer of 2032 in Beijing, with the cold winter air nipping at his cheeks of an 18 year old Zitao in the big city all by himself. She’d been working as a waitress in a small cafe, living on her own, barely making ends meet, looking for a roommate - someone to split the bills with. Zitao had been the one and he’d observed Luhan’s gentle grace when she’d try to chat up a girl, he’d seen something gentle he wasn’t capable of in her eyes. Two years later she had told him, had explained the mysteries of hidden secrets of the electric touch of her last girlfriend and how Luhan felt it, but the other girl wasn’t capable - just like Zitao himself. Zitao had tried to understand but it made him feel like he was lacking and Chanyeol’s just the same in his struggle, just as anxious and desperate and irritated that he can’t and wants to. So he accepts them.
000000000237
In the morning Jongin buttons up her shirt with nimble fingers. She has a slight frame. Chanyeol tries to convince her to stay in bed longer, it had been a long night. Zitao always takes a long time to prepare for the injection. He’s scared and cries, spends too long smoking outside with Sehun, smells like an ashtray and has a headache all the time. He sweats and worries, shakes and it’s hard for Jongin to insert the needle because he just never stops moving. Sehun is easy, always had been, ever since they had asked Chanyeol for help. He went through blood sample after blood sample, Zitao always feared. That’s why Sehun always goes first and when Zitao feels like he’s ready Sehun holds his hand - every time a bit tighter. They come in every Wednesday after 2 am and leave by the time it’s close to 4:30. It takes its toll on him and Jongin, knowing that something could go wrong. They’re only students. Everything is a huge experiment and he’s putting everyone in danger. It’s illegal, it’s stupid. They’re still in school. Young people with big dreams and barely enough money to keep going. Chanyeol’s invested everything he has in this; he’s both emotionally and physically drained for this cause of fixing himself, maybe fixing others too. What if he harms them? What if someone dies?
They sleep a restless sleep. Jongin most nights stays over in Chanyeol’s room, on Chanyeol’s bed, reading books, not really paying much attention to the words. She avoids her roommates because she can never be fully honest with them. They’re a small family in the apartment in the slums.
Minseok knocks on the door, asking if Jongin would like to stay for the day, Luhan has clothes that would fit her. Jongin opens her mouth to politely decline, but Chanyeol speaks up for her, muttering a quiet affirmation. Jongin pinches his arm but starts unbuttoning her shirt and reaches for the towel Chanyeol has set aside for her. It’s green and has dark blue smudges on it from Jongin’s hair dye. She takes it with her to the bathroom, calling out to Chanyeol to come too. It’s just before the time the hot water gets shut off.
They don’t do anything. Just let the water warm them up, let the stress of yesterday go down the drain to prepare them for today. Chanyeol washes her hair and she washes his. They allow themselves to cry both happily and sadly - tired and relieved, then when the running water hides it. Chanyeol sniffles as he wraps the towel around his waist and hands Jongin her towel. Water drips onto the tiles from her hair and they try not to slip, walking slowly back to the bedroom. It's a bit cold the early mornings of May.
000000000244
“I’m sorry it’s such a mess, I’ve been studying for exams and Sehun is a shit so he doesn’t clean up after himself either.” Chanyeol doesn’t mention that she’s spent the night at his apartment many times and it’s probably worse than here. Minseok tries to make up for Chanyeol and Luhan being slobs but it never goes very far, she gets annoyed and gives up on them and the cycle repeats itself every day.
Sehun’s left his ashtray on the kitchen table and it’s not just cigarettes he’s smoked. Chanyeol doesn’t comment on it - everyone goes crazy before exam week. Luhan carries a flask in her bag to take the edge off from time to time. She says it helps her cope with helping him and potentially getting arrested because Chanyeol is a fucking idiot. She leaves it at home sometimes, though, because Minseok scolds her, because she’s not in such danger anymore and can breathe. Minseok calms down by cleaning.
“Chanyeol?”
Chanyeol hums in reply. He’s fascinated by the space she occupies, the couch cushions probably smell of a mixture of smoke and her perfume - it’s light and contradicts the slums, the dark circles under her eyes, the smell of the city in its cruel and defensive nighttime mode. She goes into her room to change and he thinks of her bare back and how her hair must get frizzy when she takes off her shirt. He thinks of how tiny she is and how her pyjamas are most likely too big on her - he suspects at least. It’s just how he imagines her and he doesn’t know what makes him try, but he attempts the kind of special smile people in love usually have and this time it doesn’t look as staged when he looks at his reflection in her closed windows. He’s starting to feel the tingle, soon, he hopes, he’ll feel it all.
000000000250
One day Sehun comes in for his injection alone. Chanyeol gets along with him but they’ve never been left in a room together without anyone else to break the ice for them. Usually it’s Jongin, but Sehun is here about an hour earlier than he should be.
Chanyeol keeps track of Sehun and Zitao, asks questions he thinks are appropriate and not too personal, tries to compare with his own progress, and asks them if they’ve noticed anything unusual. After his first injection Sehun had a rash just around the skin Jongin disinfects before inserting the needle. They had figured it out within a month - just as much time to see if the injection’s effects are lasting. It has to do with Sehun’s blood type and although Chanyeol had tried to make the injection universal for everyone apparently this was a slight glitch in his formula. Zitao had been hysterical, with his watery eyes and tight grip on Chanyeol’s arm that had left bruises. Saying things like ‘you said it would all be okay’. Chanyeol had assured that it will be, he just needed time. He made sure it was.
Sehun is a quiet boy. He’s Jongin’s oldest friend. He’s an introvert, he’s shy and careful just like she is, but a bit less blunt than Jongin accidently gets sometimes. He likes to read and is the kind of person that spends ridiculous amounts of money on banned books, wanting to know what all the fuss is about.
Chanyeol asks Sehun to sit down. He gets his notebook and a pen and starts asking the usual questions. Sehun is much more open this time.
“How do you feel, Sehun?”
“Like everything is amplified.” Sehun smiles.
“Can you elaborate?”
"I was scared, you know. Because it seemed scary the way Jongin got when she was talking about you, but kind of… I don’t know really, I felt like I was missing out on this big secret. Zitao is… well, he’s emotional but not in that way and he’s great. We kiss and we do these things couples do, but the way Jongin describes it, it made me feel like I was lying to myself and scamming Zitao. Because it would never be like that. We couldn’t. I wished he'd feel the way Jongin felt. He’d look at me and it would be different. It’s kind of horrible, knowing people, who can feel it, makes me feel like I was born wrong or broken or something. I thought I could ask, you could help us.” Judging by Sehun’s body language he’s uncomfortable sharing this, but he does and Chanyeol is grateful for that, but squeezes Sehun’s shoulder to let him know it’s fine.
“I wished…Maybe we could be like Luhan and Minseok. Because you know that look Luhan gets, like she's been looking for Minseok to love her all her life. Like it's her purpose to love and be loved. And I wanted to know what it's like to be loved too. Zitao wanted to love me, he wants to know how and he’s learning. I’m learning too. I feel… happy.” Sehun’s lower lip is trembling by the time he’s done but he doesn’t cry, he’s close to it, though. He’s a calm person by Chanyeol’s observations of him. He’s peaceful even.
“Thank you.” Chanyeol ruffles Sehun’s messy hair. Sehun lets out a shaky breath, looks at Chanyeol and doesn’t say anything for a while. He just stands there. Chanyeol smiles at him brightly, glad everything is going as normal as can be, that they’re all okay and he hasn’t damaged anyone in his experiments, that they’re getting better even though it’s difficult to say they’re okay. Sehun’s a bony, skinny and pale boy, but his eyes are bright - he’s hopeful.
000000000261
“I don’t think this qualifies as an actual dinner,” Minseok comments on what Luhan has prepared for them. It’s her turn to make dinner and she’s made her usual specialty - sandwiches and apple slices for dessert.
“Don’t insult my skills in the kitchen.” Luhan smears mustard onto Minseok’s cheek. This hasn’t happened in a while - this kind of light conversation, joking around, Chanyeol pouring boxed wine into coffee mugs.
“I don’t think you have any skills to insult, Lu.” Chanyeol gets an apple slice thrown at his head for that and he’s happy in this moment. Jongin’s napping on the couch and she’s a light sleeper so they’ll wake her up in a few minutes probably.
Luhan asks Minseok for a lighter and Chanyeol goes to open the window. It’s their usual routine. Minseok tells them about what had happened at work and Chanyeol laughs at her misfortune, glad that it was his day off today. His heart feels fuller, patched up by careful hands. It had been a group effort and loving Jongin is the most wonderful thing in the world, making him feel as if flowers blossom in his ribcage, but loving Minseok and Luhan is completely different. Chanyeol had known friendship all his life - from the moment he had met Minseok as a kid, but lately it’s been more than anything he’s ever thought friendship could be. He understands how Minseok can find it in herself to trust him, put her doubts away in a box she rarely opens, gets angry out of worry, wants to punch him because he acts stupid, but never does. She cares for him like a sister - not a sister by blood, but by pure raw emotion, unquestionable trust and unconditional support and love. Luhan is that way too, feeling comfortable leaning her head on his shoulder as she sucks on the filter of her cigarette.
Jongin is still peacefully sleeping and she’ll wake with rosy cheeks, she’ll stretch and rub at her eyes, go wash her face and look for Chanyeol, kiss him and everything will be better, even better than now and a small taste of years down the road. Chanyeol had two injections left and he still fears getting found out, putting Jongin in danger, but if it comes to that - he’ll turn himself in, let the others live in peace, although without him, but free. He doesn’t know what the future has in store for him, but what he does know and is certain of is that everyone he loves, everyone he holds close to his newly awakened heart, deserves to live the best life possible, the fullest and most lovely existence, sweetness and no worry to plague their minds.
000000000277
The last stage of Aphrodite is Chanyeol’s last injection. It’s just the same as always - the way Jongin washes her hands too many times, kisses Chanyeol, is careful inserting the needle, her hands don’t shake. Chanyeol’s system had gotten used to the original Injection. With Sehun and Zitao all that was needed was five, Chanyeol’s been through many more than that.
It’s the end and he doesn’t know what to do and what to say because this is it - he knows now, understands in the fullest with his beating heart what it’s like to hold Jongin and feel her breathing, living, loving and knowing that he’s doing just the same. The skies have cleared in Chanyeol’s world - the clouds scattered in the sky protect him from the harsh sunlight, but it’s still bright enough. It’s like sleepy weather - just like Jongin. It’s the last time and the last syringe and the last pre-injection kiss.
It’s different in his heart yet the same in execution and this is the right time, this is the one moment everything falls into place. Jongin is so warm. She's like a million suns. It’s like nothing Chanyeol has ever seen. Chanyeol, if he were to describe what feeling alive is like, would say it’s this - loving, and not the illusion of a lifetime in the shadows of an emotionless world, feeling like his only purpose is to occupy a certain space set aside for him. Like this part of him was asleep for so long and now that it's awake he’s restless and so afraid, but happy at the same time. Like his brain goes into overdrive whenever he sees her and she's the most beautiful thing he has ever seen. She’ll all he sees. He understands now. It’s okay.
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