Shape of My Love
Title: Shape of My Love
Pairing: Sehun/Lu Han
Rating: G
Genre: AU, Romance
Word count: 1278
Summary: Love can be found in many forms and shapes.
If I were to untangle years of memories, I would eventually find the point where our lives first intersected and find it carefully tucked away in the curves of circles. I’d never forget the way your doe eyes widened when we first met, accidentally bumping shoulders in the maze of hallways on our first day of freshman year like one of those horribly clichéd films you cringe at watching, and how your lips mimicked it with a matching “o” of surprise. We both got lost and ended up ditching class that day, instead getting lost in cups of bubble tea and watching the many different ways your eyes twinkled under dim café lights.
I never would have guessed, at the time, that I’d be standing here, years later, doing the same thing. (Though I’d be lying if I said I didn’t wish for it.)
-
You asked once what my favourite shape was and couldn’t understand why I smiled at you when I said it was a crescent even as you curled yourself into me (like a shrimp, I had once said and you pouted at me so cutely that I couldn’t help but scoop you back into my arms) with your back pressed so close to my chest that I wondered if you could feel my heart beat to your inhales.
If I told you I decided on my favourite shape on the day of our first actual date, how would you react? If I told you it was because I recalled the reflection of the waning moon on the bay as we walked on the boardwalk, admiring the way your scent smelled on the ocean air and not the other way around, and how I saw the same crescents in your eyes and smile but found them, with the twinkle that couldn’t be explained by faint moonlight and the creases at corners of your eyes, to be a million times more beautiful than the original image, would you smile at me like that again?
(Ah, but it probably wouldn’t be a smart idea because my heart already had enough trouble just being around you.)
-
I always found squares and rectangles to be the least forgiving of all the shapes. Straight lines and hard angles confining me in enclosed spaces of classroom walls or enslaving me to hours and hours on end of hard work for that slip of paper dictating my place in life just to see the hard edges of my parents’ lips finally smoothen into smiles.
You could never be contained in rectangles and squares, with all your free flowing lines that seemed to form shapes that never quite close completely. (In my head, that’s because you’re waiting for me to complete it but it’s a little silly even to me.) And maybe that was exactly what I needed, especially when squares and rectangles transformed into stacks of boxes that stowed away fragments of my life when my parents kicked me out. You took my hand in your smaller ones and helped replace each box with squares of picture frames and polaroids. Squares and rectangles didn’t seem so intimidating when they began to equate themselves to each new memory I spent with you.
-
Maybe it would be a little ridiculous to find a little piece of love in each slice of cake and pie and pizza you offer me but how could I not see all the effort you’ve poured into each triangular piece? How could I not notice that crease between your brows with each failed attempt and admire your perseverance to improve no matter how long or how many trips to the grocery store it took? (Because, face it, we both knew that cooking was never your strongest suit - I’ve eaten enough of your instant ramen to know that fact.)
Besides, maybe we needed to spend a little more time appreciating these little everyday things. Because how else could have ever begun to appreciate the excited glow in your eyes and the taste of success on your lips with my own when you finally emerged victorious from the kitchen, looking every bit like you’d undergone a pivotal battle, bearing your trophy?
(Would it be a little ridiculous to admit that I pictured all this happening under the triangle of a cozy red roofed house sometime in the future as well?)
-
Sometimes, on dark days when you weren’t by my side, when you were laughing with Joonmyun from the polisci department or chattering away in rapid Mandarin with Wu Fan, Yixing and Zitao, I would wonder if you even needed me - if you even wanted me. You could have had anyone and anyone would have been lucky - blessed, even - to have you by their side, to listen to the way your laugh sounds like its own melody, and to feel the way your fingers curl around their hands and hold them like they’re the most precious things in the world. Instead, you settled for me, who had no special accreditation or talents or abilities, and all that would go through my mind is that I’m just a temporary, replaceable fixture in your life - someone you treated no differently from your other friends and would eventually throw away once you found someone who’s smarter, more athletic and more good looking.
In retrospect, I was probably searching for your love in dramatic displays of affection fit for melodramas and romance films (you always did say I spent too much time watching them) when I should’ve known by now that your love was tucked in small, subtle actions and words instead.
Next time, when you take me out to the beach at night and point out your favourite constellations to me as we lay sprawled, hand-in-hand, against the cool sand, I’ll remember to look at your eyes right after the words leave your mouth because I know that your love isn’t drawn up by stars in the sky but by the stars in your eyes when you look at me.
-
Once in a while, though, you’ve indulged my movie romance fantasies.
I vividly remember the heart-shaped garlands you hung up so meticulously all throughout the apartment on Valentine’s Day and how my heart stuttered at the sight of it because the image of you scrunching your nose in that adorable way you always do when you see stores saturated in reds and pinks come February, saying “hearts aren’t even shaped like that”, was still fresh in my mind. But then you pushed that bouquet of roses in my direction, your face growing as red as the petals of the flowers in your hands when I laughed at how clichéd it all was, and said “I heard that the heart shape comes from two hearts being sewn together so… would you do me the honour of being the owner of the heart that’s sewn onto mine?”
At that moment, I might have laughed a lot, but I’m sure you heard my heart’s reply when I pulled you in close and answered with a kiss.
(Even if you didn’t, I’m sure you figured it out when I reciprocated your stunt with an equally cheesy one on White Day.)
-
There weren’t enough shapes or colours or words to express how much you mean to me so I suppose it would be best to go back to the very beginning. Because my love, like a circle, has no beginning or end. And even if it took eternity, once you come down the aisle, every bit and more dazzling than I imagine you to be, and take my ring as yours, I promise to love you every possible way I can.
AN: I AM DISGUSTED IN ME TOO. I'M SORRY YOU HAD TO READ THAT.
Ok, I'll go back to attempting to smut now. /sobs/
Pairing: Sehun/Lu Han
Rating: G
Genre: AU, Romance
Word count: 1278
Summary: Love can be found in many forms and shapes.
If I were to untangle years of memories, I would eventually find the point where our lives first intersected and find it carefully tucked away in the curves of circles. I’d never forget the way your doe eyes widened when we first met, accidentally bumping shoulders in the maze of hallways on our first day of freshman year like one of those horribly clichéd films you cringe at watching, and how your lips mimicked it with a matching “o” of surprise. We both got lost and ended up ditching class that day, instead getting lost in cups of bubble tea and watching the many different ways your eyes twinkled under dim café lights.
I never would have guessed, at the time, that I’d be standing here, years later, doing the same thing. (Though I’d be lying if I said I didn’t wish for it.)
-
You asked once what my favourite shape was and couldn’t understand why I smiled at you when I said it was a crescent even as you curled yourself into me (like a shrimp, I had once said and you pouted at me so cutely that I couldn’t help but scoop you back into my arms) with your back pressed so close to my chest that I wondered if you could feel my heart beat to your inhales.
If I told you I decided on my favourite shape on the day of our first actual date, how would you react? If I told you it was because I recalled the reflection of the waning moon on the bay as we walked on the boardwalk, admiring the way your scent smelled on the ocean air and not the other way around, and how I saw the same crescents in your eyes and smile but found them, with the twinkle that couldn’t be explained by faint moonlight and the creases at corners of your eyes, to be a million times more beautiful than the original image, would you smile at me like that again?
(Ah, but it probably wouldn’t be a smart idea because my heart already had enough trouble just being around you.)
-
I always found squares and rectangles to be the least forgiving of all the shapes. Straight lines and hard angles confining me in enclosed spaces of classroom walls or enslaving me to hours and hours on end of hard work for that slip of paper dictating my place in life just to see the hard edges of my parents’ lips finally smoothen into smiles.
You could never be contained in rectangles and squares, with all your free flowing lines that seemed to form shapes that never quite close completely. (In my head, that’s because you’re waiting for me to complete it but it’s a little silly even to me.) And maybe that was exactly what I needed, especially when squares and rectangles transformed into stacks of boxes that stowed away fragments of my life when my parents kicked me out. You took my hand in your smaller ones and helped replace each box with squares of picture frames and polaroids. Squares and rectangles didn’t seem so intimidating when they began to equate themselves to each new memory I spent with you.
-
Maybe it would be a little ridiculous to find a little piece of love in each slice of cake and pie and pizza you offer me but how could I not see all the effort you’ve poured into each triangular piece? How could I not notice that crease between your brows with each failed attempt and admire your perseverance to improve no matter how long or how many trips to the grocery store it took? (Because, face it, we both knew that cooking was never your strongest suit - I’ve eaten enough of your instant ramen to know that fact.)
Besides, maybe we needed to spend a little more time appreciating these little everyday things. Because how else could have ever begun to appreciate the excited glow in your eyes and the taste of success on your lips with my own when you finally emerged victorious from the kitchen, looking every bit like you’d undergone a pivotal battle, bearing your trophy?
(Would it be a little ridiculous to admit that I pictured all this happening under the triangle of a cozy red roofed house sometime in the future as well?)
-
Sometimes, on dark days when you weren’t by my side, when you were laughing with Joonmyun from the polisci department or chattering away in rapid Mandarin with Wu Fan, Yixing and Zitao, I would wonder if you even needed me - if you even wanted me. You could have had anyone and anyone would have been lucky - blessed, even - to have you by their side, to listen to the way your laugh sounds like its own melody, and to feel the way your fingers curl around their hands and hold them like they’re the most precious things in the world. Instead, you settled for me, who had no special accreditation or talents or abilities, and all that would go through my mind is that I’m just a temporary, replaceable fixture in your life - someone you treated no differently from your other friends and would eventually throw away once you found someone who’s smarter, more athletic and more good looking.
In retrospect, I was probably searching for your love in dramatic displays of affection fit for melodramas and romance films (you always did say I spent too much time watching them) when I should’ve known by now that your love was tucked in small, subtle actions and words instead.
Next time, when you take me out to the beach at night and point out your favourite constellations to me as we lay sprawled, hand-in-hand, against the cool sand, I’ll remember to look at your eyes right after the words leave your mouth because I know that your love isn’t drawn up by stars in the sky but by the stars in your eyes when you look at me.
-
Once in a while, though, you’ve indulged my movie romance fantasies.
I vividly remember the heart-shaped garlands you hung up so meticulously all throughout the apartment on Valentine’s Day and how my heart stuttered at the sight of it because the image of you scrunching your nose in that adorable way you always do when you see stores saturated in reds and pinks come February, saying “hearts aren’t even shaped like that”, was still fresh in my mind. But then you pushed that bouquet of roses in my direction, your face growing as red as the petals of the flowers in your hands when I laughed at how clichéd it all was, and said “I heard that the heart shape comes from two hearts being sewn together so… would you do me the honour of being the owner of the heart that’s sewn onto mine?”
At that moment, I might have laughed a lot, but I’m sure you heard my heart’s reply when I pulled you in close and answered with a kiss.
(Even if you didn’t, I’m sure you figured it out when I reciprocated your stunt with an equally cheesy one on White Day.)
-
There weren’t enough shapes or colours or words to express how much you mean to me so I suppose it would be best to go back to the very beginning. Because my love, like a circle, has no beginning or end. And even if it took eternity, once you come down the aisle, every bit and more dazzling than I imagine you to be, and take my ring as yours, I promise to love you every possible way I can.
AN: I AM DISGUSTED IN ME TOO. I'M SORRY YOU HAD TO READ THAT.
Ok, I'll go back to attempting to smut now. /sobs/