Imperfectly Perfect Prologue
Heechul can’t remember when it was exactly. He can’t remember which moment it was, but the warm flush in his cheeks when he thinks about it and the way his heart beats faster makes him remember slightly how the weather must have been at the time. Or the way they looked at each other, or the words they spoke. Or the words they hadn’t spoken at all.
It might have been just a mistake, just a wind ruffling the leaves in the trees, something that had changed the routine of days if only for a fraction of a second, but it had happened and now he couldn’t remember which moment exactly it was but he doesn’t think it’s a mistake anymore.
It just might have been the most amazing thing that has ever happened to him, to be honest. But of course, he would never admit to something like that.
It might have happened when they locked eyes in that lonely cafe on the corner -- Heechul on his old laptop that had been worn from use and angered fits of writer’s block in the middle of cold nights -- and the other person had glanced up casually from behind his latte and he had smiled gently at Heechul and his eyes had twinkled somehow, and he was beautiful in a foreign way that Heechul could not recognize and then. And then Heechul couldn’t remember what his thoughts were after that. He couldn’t remember because there were no thoughts. Only fluttering of nervousness and the way his gaze quickly fell because the electricity that surged through his veins when their eyes met was too overwhelming.
Heechul remembers the way his fingers shook when he had texted Sungmin incoherent strings telling him how he had just seen the most beautiful creature to grace the earth, possibly. He remembers how he had almost spilled his own black tea all over himself, and oh, he smiles now recalling it because that would have been mightily embarrassing.
Or it might have happened when he picked up the little black phone left forgotten in the brown leather seat, all crinkled up from being sat upon by many others.
Heechul had felt its smooth, cold exterior on his fingers when he leaned in to pick it up, warily, with two fingers. And then his hand had felt over it as he unlocked the screen, a picture of morning glories greeted him brightly and he couldn’t help but smile, something blossoming inside of him, opening an emotion of sincerity he had never felt before -- and really, what kind of guy these days has flowers on the background of his phone? Heechul knew whose it was right away and he remembered the way the man had looked up at Heechul from afar with his eyes melting Heechul behind those long eyelashes.
He had run after him, the bell hanging from the coffee shop door tinkling loudly as he pushed the door swiftly open and stepped outside, eyes frantically searching for the long lanky legs and blue plaid shirt. He spotted it first, the shirt, at the end of the street corner, and found himself racing without inhibition down the sidewalk, all the meanwhile yelling “Chinaman! Hey Chinaman!” and the entire population of the city stared at him in awe and contempt.
He ran down that street without stopping for a moment and if anyone knew Heechul well enough, they’d have known he simply despised sports, and especially running for that matter. So the inquiry of why he had run down nearly an entire block was unknown to anyone, even Heechul himself.
It might have been then that it happened. But either way, in the end, it was worth running.
“Your phone,” Heechul had gasped in broken pants. “You forgot your phone?”
The man turned around and looked Heechul in the eye and this was only the second time but Heechul felt a surge of familiarity and warmth flush inside of him strangely.
The man quirked an eyebrow at him and smiled when recognition of who Heechul was flickered across his face.
“What is it?” he asked calmly. “Can I help you?”
Heechul grunted and thrust the little black device at the man, still trying to catch his breath.
There was a little pause and suddenly, he reached out to pluck the phone out of Heechul’s sweaty palm.
“Thank you,” he said sincerely and bowed deeply to show his gratitude, and Heechul was forced to look up, a red strand of hair falling out of place and obscuring his vision as he did so. He frantically pushed it out of his sight and tucked it behind an ear, not wanting anything to take from this moment -- this moment of their eyes meeting a second time and his heart nearly falling out of his chest again. There is something about the way this moment plays out in his mind that has Heechul squirming in his seat every time he thinks about it.
“You’re welcome,” he replied, still panting softly, eyes never leaving the man because really, he could have easily gotten lost in them if he wanted to. A stream of sweat trickled down the side of his face and he wiped it away quickly -- he really hated looking disheveled in front of others, especially others who happened to look like sex gods.
“Really, thank you,” the man said again, smiling broadly and the way his eyes crinkled up made Heechul forget his troubled thoughts again.
“No problem,” he muttered, not able to pull away from the magnetic gaze they held.
“You ran all the way from here to give it back to me?” he asked, smile never faltering. His eyes twinkled again in the autumn’s soft sunlight.
Heechul nodded, unable to say anything and he really wanted to smack himself in the face for acting like a hormonal teenage girl, but he couldn’t help it at the time, he was just so tongue-tied for some reason. The man had a strange accent and Heechul knew he was right when he had assumed the foreigner was of Chinese origin.
“Alright, I’m going to leave now,” Heechul had announced, alas pulling himself together and away from this other person he seemed so ridiculously attracted to. He turned around to leave and of course secretly wished the stupid foreigner would at least call him back to ask for his name when the man did just that.
“Wait,” he called out behind Heechul. “Can you...please tell me what your name is?”
Heechul whirled around, scarlet locks tickling his neck and he forced down a smile, “Why?” he asked almost intensely.
“So I can repay you with my thanks,” the man said, his Korean was stilted and Heechul could tell he was still not fluent yet.
Heechul paused, took a deep breath, and finally did something that day he was proud of -- something that actually spoke of Kim Heechul.
He looked up boldly at the foreigner’s soft brown eyes and said, “I can have you repay your thanks by giving me a call. You don’t need to ask for my name since it’s already in there,” he had said in a single sentence, eyes to the cell phone he was holding in his hand. Heechul felt confident surge dizzyingly within him and smiled brightly when he turned to really walk away this time, heart still beating hundreds of miles a second. Fates had played their part and it had been up to the Chinaman to decide what he wanted from Heechul.
It might have happened when he heard the familiar, satiny voice again over the phone, asking to take him out for a drink. It might have been when they sat at a table across from each other, Heechul cracking sarcastic jokes and the Chinaman pretending to understand everything that was falling from his mouth. It might have been when they stared into each other’s eyes by accident and found it nearly impossible to pull away. It might have been when they first held hands, the foreigner grabbing Heechul’s smaller hand with his strong, coarse one and pulling him out of the rain. Or it might have been the way they kissed under the eaves of Heechul’s apartment. It might have been that sweet, but bitter smell that lingered endlessly around the man.
It might have been when he asked Heechul to move in with him. It might have been when he confessed his love to Heechul. It might have been when they curled up beside each other at night, and the way he pressed Heechul passionately into the sheets during the cold winter sunsets and the heat that they generated kept them warm till mornings.
Heechul realized sometime ago that it had never really mattered when he had fallen head over heels in love with this other person, it only mattered that he did. And perhaps he had been in love with him ever since they moment their eyes met - and it didn’t matter what happened after that except for the fact that everything that seemed to follow their meeting made him fall harder and harder.
But of course, he would never admit to this, either.
A/N: so did you enjoy so far? Please come back for more updates ♥
This is ...probably my masterpiece of fanfiction, if I must say so myself. It took so much out of me yet I learned so much from it, and I really put so much of my soul into this. I hope you'll come to see how much it means to me :)
.
It might have been just a mistake, just a wind ruffling the leaves in the trees, something that had changed the routine of days if only for a fraction of a second, but it had happened and now he couldn’t remember which moment exactly it was but he doesn’t think it’s a mistake anymore.
It just might have been the most amazing thing that has ever happened to him, to be honest. But of course, he would never admit to something like that.
It might have happened when they locked eyes in that lonely cafe on the corner -- Heechul on his old laptop that had been worn from use and angered fits of writer’s block in the middle of cold nights -- and the other person had glanced up casually from behind his latte and he had smiled gently at Heechul and his eyes had twinkled somehow, and he was beautiful in a foreign way that Heechul could not recognize and then. And then Heechul couldn’t remember what his thoughts were after that. He couldn’t remember because there were no thoughts. Only fluttering of nervousness and the way his gaze quickly fell because the electricity that surged through his veins when their eyes met was too overwhelming.
Heechul remembers the way his fingers shook when he had texted Sungmin incoherent strings telling him how he had just seen the most beautiful creature to grace the earth, possibly. He remembers how he had almost spilled his own black tea all over himself, and oh, he smiles now recalling it because that would have been mightily embarrassing.
Or it might have happened when he picked up the little black phone left forgotten in the brown leather seat, all crinkled up from being sat upon by many others.
Heechul had felt its smooth, cold exterior on his fingers when he leaned in to pick it up, warily, with two fingers. And then his hand had felt over it as he unlocked the screen, a picture of morning glories greeted him brightly and he couldn’t help but smile, something blossoming inside of him, opening an emotion of sincerity he had never felt before -- and really, what kind of guy these days has flowers on the background of his phone? Heechul knew whose it was right away and he remembered the way the man had looked up at Heechul from afar with his eyes melting Heechul behind those long eyelashes.
He had run after him, the bell hanging from the coffee shop door tinkling loudly as he pushed the door swiftly open and stepped outside, eyes frantically searching for the long lanky legs and blue plaid shirt. He spotted it first, the shirt, at the end of the street corner, and found himself racing without inhibition down the sidewalk, all the meanwhile yelling “Chinaman! Hey Chinaman!” and the entire population of the city stared at him in awe and contempt.
He ran down that street without stopping for a moment and if anyone knew Heechul well enough, they’d have known he simply despised sports, and especially running for that matter. So the inquiry of why he had run down nearly an entire block was unknown to anyone, even Heechul himself.
It might have been then that it happened. But either way, in the end, it was worth running.
“Your phone,” Heechul had gasped in broken pants. “You forgot your phone?”
The man turned around and looked Heechul in the eye and this was only the second time but Heechul felt a surge of familiarity and warmth flush inside of him strangely.
The man quirked an eyebrow at him and smiled when recognition of who Heechul was flickered across his face.
“What is it?” he asked calmly. “Can I help you?”
Heechul grunted and thrust the little black device at the man, still trying to catch his breath.
There was a little pause and suddenly, he reached out to pluck the phone out of Heechul’s sweaty palm.
“Thank you,” he said sincerely and bowed deeply to show his gratitude, and Heechul was forced to look up, a red strand of hair falling out of place and obscuring his vision as he did so. He frantically pushed it out of his sight and tucked it behind an ear, not wanting anything to take from this moment -- this moment of their eyes meeting a second time and his heart nearly falling out of his chest again. There is something about the way this moment plays out in his mind that has Heechul squirming in his seat every time he thinks about it.
“You’re welcome,” he replied, still panting softly, eyes never leaving the man because really, he could have easily gotten lost in them if he wanted to. A stream of sweat trickled down the side of his face and he wiped it away quickly -- he really hated looking disheveled in front of others, especially others who happened to look like sex gods.
“Really, thank you,” the man said again, smiling broadly and the way his eyes crinkled up made Heechul forget his troubled thoughts again.
“No problem,” he muttered, not able to pull away from the magnetic gaze they held.
“You ran all the way from here to give it back to me?” he asked, smile never faltering. His eyes twinkled again in the autumn’s soft sunlight.
Heechul nodded, unable to say anything and he really wanted to smack himself in the face for acting like a hormonal teenage girl, but he couldn’t help it at the time, he was just so tongue-tied for some reason. The man had a strange accent and Heechul knew he was right when he had assumed the foreigner was of Chinese origin.
“Alright, I’m going to leave now,” Heechul had announced, alas pulling himself together and away from this other person he seemed so ridiculously attracted to. He turned around to leave and of course secretly wished the stupid foreigner would at least call him back to ask for his name when the man did just that.
“Wait,” he called out behind Heechul. “Can you...please tell me what your name is?”
Heechul whirled around, scarlet locks tickling his neck and he forced down a smile, “Why?” he asked almost intensely.
“So I can repay you with my thanks,” the man said, his Korean was stilted and Heechul could tell he was still not fluent yet.
Heechul paused, took a deep breath, and finally did something that day he was proud of -- something that actually spoke of Kim Heechul.
He looked up boldly at the foreigner’s soft brown eyes and said, “I can have you repay your thanks by giving me a call. You don’t need to ask for my name since it’s already in there,” he had said in a single sentence, eyes to the cell phone he was holding in his hand. Heechul felt confident surge dizzyingly within him and smiled brightly when he turned to really walk away this time, heart still beating hundreds of miles a second. Fates had played their part and it had been up to the Chinaman to decide what he wanted from Heechul.
It might have happened when he heard the familiar, satiny voice again over the phone, asking to take him out for a drink. It might have been when they sat at a table across from each other, Heechul cracking sarcastic jokes and the Chinaman pretending to understand everything that was falling from his mouth. It might have been when they stared into each other’s eyes by accident and found it nearly impossible to pull away. It might have been when they first held hands, the foreigner grabbing Heechul’s smaller hand with his strong, coarse one and pulling him out of the rain. Or it might have been the way they kissed under the eaves of Heechul’s apartment. It might have been that sweet, but bitter smell that lingered endlessly around the man.
It might have been when he asked Heechul to move in with him. It might have been when he confessed his love to Heechul. It might have been when they curled up beside each other at night, and the way he pressed Heechul passionately into the sheets during the cold winter sunsets and the heat that they generated kept them warm till mornings.
Heechul realized sometime ago that it had never really mattered when he had fallen head over heels in love with this other person, it only mattered that he did. And perhaps he had been in love with him ever since they moment their eyes met - and it didn’t matter what happened after that except for the fact that everything that seemed to follow their meeting made him fall harder and harder.
But of course, he would never admit to this, either.
A/N: so did you enjoy so far? Please come back for more updates ♥
This is ...probably my masterpiece of fanfiction, if I must say so myself. It took so much out of me yet I learned so much from it, and I really put so much of my soul into this. I hope you'll come to see how much it means to me :)
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