Never Leave Me Alone
ʚ Title: Never Leave Me Alone for justangel ♡
ʚ Pairing(s): Kyungsoo/Chanyeol
ʚ Rating: PG-13
ʚ Warnings: implied mental illness
ʚ Word Count: 2.8k
ʚ Summary: It’s Okay, That’s Love AU: Kyungsoo protects Chanyeol from himself.
ʚ Message for your recipient/author note: dear recipient, i hope this is sort of what you were looking for ;-; i’m happy to have been given an opportunity to write an au like this, so thank u ♡ also thank u K for letting me scream at u during any hour of the day, and to sooheaven squad for being HELLA patient ♡♡♡
You have <1> new message.
“Hey, it’s Yura. I know you’re busy with your book recently, and this… isn’t really something I want to talk about over the phone, but…
“They-- the police found some new evidence in mum and dad’s case. Something about the fire, and who started it. Call me when you get this, okay? Love you. Bye.”
--
“Aren’t you supposed to be writing?” Kyungsoo asks from the doorway, startling Chanyeol into sitting up straight from his position slumped over his keyboard.
“I was,” Chanyeol insists. Kyungsoo crosses the room to hover over his shoulder, peeking at the document open on Chanyeol’s computer screen. It’s mostly blank, except for the cursor blinking in and out of sight. “It’s just... not coming along as easily as I thought it would.”
Kyungsoo hums, resting his hands on the back of Chanyeol’s chair. “Writer’s block?”
“I guess so,” Chanyeol sighs, leaning back to look up at him. “I haven’t had it this bad since my first book. And that was the worst.”
“That book also got you just about every New Author award,” Kyungsoo says dryly. “The point is, it might’ve been a pain to write, but you got it done and it was amazing. So was the second one.”
Chanyeol groans and slumps on his desk again. “Don’t say stuff like that, it stresses me out.”
“I have to, it’s in my job description.”
“It is not--”
“How much did you get done yesterday?” Kyungsoo cuts him off, leaning over the back of the chair to squint at the screen. “I remember something about a train.”
“He was about to get on the train,” Chanyeol sighs into the keyboard. “But I’m not sure what to do when he gets to the town. Like, he hasn’t been there in years, for one, but it’s also the place where his whole detective thing started.”
Kyungsoo moves out from behind the chair to stand beside him, and Chanyeol peeks up to watch the way he bites his lip as he thinks. “Well, what’s the detective telling you? If you put yourself in his place, he’ll tell you what should happen next.”
“That makes no sense,” Chanyeol whines, thunking his head back down onto the desk.
Kyungsoo just laughs, pulling the chair back so Chanyeol has to sit up again. “It’s not worth getting worked up over right now. Come on, it’s late. Let’s get to bed.”
It’s a bit of strange routine they have, Chanyeol supposes, as he gets up to follow Kyungsoo to his bedroom. He spends the day writing - or, trying to write, really - and in the evenings, Kyungsoo comes over to sleep. He’s supposed to be on hand and at the ready to decipher the strange recurring dreams Chanyeol has, since Chanyeol barely remembers them after a few minutes - but on the nights where Chanyeol doesn’t dream, they just sleep side by side. Chanyeol likes those night best, the ones where it feels so easy to be close to Kyungsoo.
Tonight, though, doesn’t seem like it will be one of those. As soon as they’re both under the covers, Kyungsoo turns to face him. “Tell me again what this detective’s deal is.”
Chanyeol sighs and sits up a little. “Detective Kim Jongin goes back to his childhood hometown to solve a murder there. He left the town behind years and years ago because he witnessed Oh Sehun, his at-the-time best friend, killing someone, which inspired him to solve crimes in the first place. Now that’s he’s back, he has to solve the murder, obviously, but he also has to deal with this stuff from his past that’s just been shoved under the rug for a long time, and-- didn’t you just tell me I shouldn’t stress about this right now?”
Kyungsoo shrugs. “As your live-in dream-analyst-slash-brainstorm-assistant, I have to know these things.”
“Not live-in,” Chanyeol scoffs, but Kyungsoo gives him a look and gestures at their current position.
“I sleep in your bed most nights. I basically live here.”
Chanyeol yawns instead of arguing back, and the room goes comfortably quiet. He closes his eyes and tries to drive all book-writing-related things out of his mind, attempting to focus on everything else that’s happened recently instead--
“Oh, by the way,” he says, turning back to Kyungsoo, “I’m seeing my sister tomorrow.”
“Yeah?”
“Yep, she called a few days ago.” He props himself up on one elbow. “There’s some-- stuff she wants to talk about. Family stuff.”
Kyungsoo nods. “Are you going to tell her about your dreams?”
“Uh, maybe,” Chanyeol says, looking up at the ceiling and giving a nervous laugh. “I don’t know, a recurring dream doesn’t seem very--”
“It is important,” Kyungsoo says before he can finish, “but if you don’t want to tell her, that’s okay.”
Chanyeol can’t help smiling, a wave of affection surging through him as he flops back down onto his pillow. “I’ll think about it,” he says, and then, after a moment’s pause, “Thank you, Kyungsoo.”
Just before he closes his eyes, he sees Kyungsoo’s pretty heart-shaped smile in the dark. “That’s what I’m here for,” he says softly, soothingly, and Chanyeol drifts off with Kyungsoo’s voice in his ears.
--
In dreamspace he follows Jongin as he wanders through the house from his childhood, picking up bits of memory under rugs and hidden in bookcases. He thinks briefly of what Kyungsoo had said, about putting himself in Jongin’s place - and then he is, watching the dream unfold through Jongin’s eyes instead.
He comes upon a door and ducks down to peer through the keyhole, which grows to show him more of the room on the other side. There he can see Sehun, towering over another figure, and watch the knife in his hand glint as it comes down in an almost graceful arc.
He’s seen this before - this dream has come every night since he decided this part of the plot, save one where he dreamed of the train instead. There are tiny differences, like the way Sehun swings the knife, the size of the keyhole, the books around the house - and tonight, it’s the strong scent of burning wood that hits him as soon as he leans away from the door.
Chanyeol wakes up with a fading pain in his back, as if it had been searing just a moment before. It’s uncomfortable even though it doesn’t hurt anymore, and he kicks his blankets off sleepily, heaving himself up from bed to go check for injury in the bathroom mirror.
He barely makes it two steps before Kyungsoo sits up as well. “Chanyeol? What’s wrong?”
“I’m-- something hurts, I don’t know, I just... want to look.”
“I can look for you,” Kyungsoo says, ushering him back to the bed.
Chanyeol sits on the edge with his back to Kyungsoo, and pulls his sleep shirt off over his head. Even as tired as he is, the feeling of Kyungsoo’s hands, feather-light, tracing tingling lines over his back isn’t something he can ignore. “It doesn’t hurt anymore,” he murmurs, “but can you see anything there?”
“No,” Kyungsoo hums. “There’s nothing.”
--
You have <1> new message.
“Hi, it’s me again. Sorry for snapping at you yesterday. I’m just… stressed, about this whole thing. I thought it was over, you know, and now they’re saying all this about the fire maybe being set by someone who was inside the house, and I-- I know you’re stressed too, I know you have a deadline and I know this isn’t helping. I’m sorry.
“Call me, okay? Let’s get together again soon. I want to hear more about those dreams you’re having. I know you said you have someone-- Kyungsoo, I think? And it’s good that he’s helping you out, but… I’d like to talk to him about it myself. I feel like I’m overdue to meet him, anyway-- oh, this is a really long message, isn’t it.
“Okay, I’ll see you soon - and do call me back, please, Chanyeol, you have a telephone for a reason. I love you. Bye.”
--
“My sister wants to meet you,” Chanyeol says, as casually as he can manage.
“Oh?” Kyungsoo laughs on the other end of the phone line. “Does she want to make sure I have honourable intentions?”
Chanyeol scoffs, rolling over onto his back. “More like she wants to make sure you’re not going to steal my manuscript.”
“Yeah, I’m definitely in this to become a fake bestselling author, you got me,” Kyungsoo deadpans. “But speaking of manuscript--”
“I should’ve known you’d latch onto that.”
“--how is it coming?”
“Really well, actually,” Chanyeol sighs happily. “It’s weird, I’ve been so immersed in it that I almost forget that you’re not here, reading over my shoulder as usual.”
Kyungsoo laughs again. “Yeah, sorry I haven’t been around in a few days. But it’s good that you’re working so hard.”
Chanyeol hums, pleased with the praise. “I think I could finish soon, if I keep at it like this.”
“It’s getting late, though,” Kyungsoo says, sounding amused. “Are you still writing?”
“Ah, no,” Chanyeol says, glancing at the clock. “I got stuck a bit ago, and decided to just go back to it tomorrow.”
“Oh. Where are you stuck?”
Chanyeol rolls over again to think about it. “Okay, so, he’s gotten to his house, he remembers the murder, he doesn’t find the knife until the next chapter, but this one part is like… like he knows what he saw, and standing there he can remember it clearly, and he’s almost… at peace with it?” He makes a face. “That’s not the right word. More like he’s… accepting it. Or he could, if he wanted to.
“He’s caught between staying there, looking into the room and letting his memory eat at him, or turning away and moving forward from it. Either way, he knows what happened and how it’s affected him, but he can either let it continue, or let it go.”
It takes Chanyeol a few seconds to realize that Kyungsoo has stopped responding, and after a moment of worry he glances at the clock again. It is kind of late, he supposes. Kyungsoo must’ve fallen asleep with his phone in his hand.
Chanyeol smiles at the mental image and slides into bed himself. He debates staying on the line, but decides to just hang up and tuck his phone away. He’ll call Kyungsoo again first thing tomorrow to laugh about it, he decides, closing his eyes, and maybe he can convince him to come over for the night…
--
He dreams the same dream once more, wandering the house and collecting bits of memories that aren’t his. It’s familiar, by now, and even if his feet didn’t move on their own he would know the route by heart.
When he comes to the door, though, he ducks down to the keyhole but it’s disappeared. The whole door swings open instead, and Chanyeol - it is Chanyeol now, it hasn’t been Jongin for a while - can see the whole room; the table in the corner, the curtains and carpet, the bed on one side, and Sehun.
Except it isn't Sehun, it's himself, another Chanyeol, like he's looking into some strange mirror. Instead of a knife it's a lighter in his hand, and instead of bringing it down to strike he smiles, and flicks up a spark--
Chanyeol wakes with a feeling like he's just missed a loud noise, the faint echo hanging in the air above his bed. The strange faded pain in his back is there, too, but this time, Kyungsoo isn't. Throwing the covers off, Chanyeol gets out of bed and makes his way to the bathroom, tugging off his shirt as he goes.
It's a bit of a struggle to peek over his shoulder to see the entire reflection of his back in the mirror. He wishes for a moment that Kyungsoo was here instead, to look and tell him it's nothing like he had the last time - but then he sees the scar, and freezes.
It's a pinkish starburst in the centre of his back, a discoloured splash right across his spine that he knows, somehow, is from a burn. He tries to recall any encounters he's had with fire, but the first thing that comes to mind is the sparking lighter from his dream and then the image won’t leave, even as he trips away from the mirror and back to his bedroom. He tries his best to ignore the shake in his hands as he picks up his phone and dials Kyungsoo.
The number you have dialled is not in service.
Chanyeol blinks. That can’t be right. He checks that he called the right number, then opens his list of received calls. Kyungsoo had called him earlier, there must be some mistake--
But Kyungsoo’s name isn’t on the list. Chanyeol scrolls down through all the names until he’s a month back, and Do Kyungsoo doesn’t appear even once. Trying to ignore the chill working its way down his spine, he switches to outgoing calls - Kyungsoo is one of the only people he talks to on his cellphone, there must be something there, he’s sure of it--
>Do Kyungsoo - no answer
>Do Kyungsoo - no answer
>Do Kyungsoo - no answer
>Do Kyungsoo - no answer
>Do Kyungsoo - no answer
>Do Kyungsoo - no answer
He puts his phone down as calmly as he can and stumbles to the bathroom, turns on the shower and lets the sound of the water drumming against the tile drown out the pounding in his head.
But even standing under the spray he doesn't feel right - the scar has obviously long since healed, but the hot water over his back is uncomfortable, no matter how long he waits for his skin to get used to the temperature. He ends up getting out when his head starts to hurt, the steamy air too thick to breathe.
When he shuts off the water, the apartment is quiet enough for him to hear the faint beeping of the answering machine, room away, through the door. He pulls his clothes back on without drying off, and drips his way down the hall to press play on the console.
You have <1> new message.
“Chanyeol, it’s me. Listen, there’s... a doctor here that I want you to meet. She works in the psychiatric ward-- and I know that sounds scary, but we need to talk, okay? About you and your dreams and-- and about Kyungsoo. He’s not… he’s not what you think.
“I made you an appointment. It’s really important that you show up. If you don’t, I-- we’ll have to come get you. Please call me back. I love you. See you soon.”
The water dripping out of his hair makes a tiny puddle on the floor. He listens again.
“--about you and your dreams and-- and about Kyungsoo. He’s not--”
Again.
“--We’ll have to come get you. Please call me ba--”
Message deleted.
--
Much later, Chanyeol returns to bed. He pulls down the covers on both sides, then lies back to watch the sun creep over the empty space beside him.
“I think I’ll start it over,” he says to the room, then closes his eyes and hopes.
“Your book?” It takes a moment, like a delayed response in a long-distance phone call, but Kyungsoo is there again. Tinny and a little strained, but there. “Why now? You were so close to the end.”
Chanyeol swallows a sob of relief and focuses on keeping his voice steady. “I didn’t like the direction it was going in. I think I have another idea already, anyway.”
He feels a soft breath against his face, and when he peeks through his lashes Kyungsoo is there, lying next to him. Like he was there all along. “Tell me about it.”
“Something about a boy,” Chanyeol starts, timid, as if a harsh consonant will scare Kyungsoo away, “who runs into the forest to get away from a monster, even though the forest has monsters too.”
“I thought you were a mystery writer,” Kyungsoo hums. A smile flits over his face and is gone again, and Chanyeol follows its path with his eyes.
“It could be a mystery,” he says, hushed. “Maybe at the end you find out the boy was the monster all along.”
Kyungsoo looks down at the sheets between them. “Then maybe he belongs in the forest.”
Chanyeol smiles, sliding his hand across the gap to curl his fingers around Kyungsoo’s. The touch isn’t warm like he wants it to be, but it’s enough. “Maybe he does.”
--
Are you sure you want to permanently delete >FinalDraft.doc?<
>OK<
ʚ Pairing(s): Kyungsoo/Chanyeol
ʚ Rating: PG-13
ʚ Warnings: implied mental illness
ʚ Word Count: 2.8k
ʚ Summary: It’s Okay, That’s Love AU: Kyungsoo protects Chanyeol from himself.
ʚ Message for your recipient/author note: dear recipient, i hope this is sort of what you were looking for ;-; i’m happy to have been given an opportunity to write an au like this, so thank u ♡ also thank u K for letting me scream at u during any hour of the day, and to sooheaven squad for being HELLA patient ♡♡♡
You have <1> new message.
“Hey, it’s Yura. I know you’re busy with your book recently, and this… isn’t really something I want to talk about over the phone, but…
“They-- the police found some new evidence in mum and dad’s case. Something about the fire, and who started it. Call me when you get this, okay? Love you. Bye.”
--
“Aren’t you supposed to be writing?” Kyungsoo asks from the doorway, startling Chanyeol into sitting up straight from his position slumped over his keyboard.
“I was,” Chanyeol insists. Kyungsoo crosses the room to hover over his shoulder, peeking at the document open on Chanyeol’s computer screen. It’s mostly blank, except for the cursor blinking in and out of sight. “It’s just... not coming along as easily as I thought it would.”
Kyungsoo hums, resting his hands on the back of Chanyeol’s chair. “Writer’s block?”
“I guess so,” Chanyeol sighs, leaning back to look up at him. “I haven’t had it this bad since my first book. And that was the worst.”
“That book also got you just about every New Author award,” Kyungsoo says dryly. “The point is, it might’ve been a pain to write, but you got it done and it was amazing. So was the second one.”
Chanyeol groans and slumps on his desk again. “Don’t say stuff like that, it stresses me out.”
“I have to, it’s in my job description.”
“It is not--”
“How much did you get done yesterday?” Kyungsoo cuts him off, leaning over the back of the chair to squint at the screen. “I remember something about a train.”
“He was about to get on the train,” Chanyeol sighs into the keyboard. “But I’m not sure what to do when he gets to the town. Like, he hasn’t been there in years, for one, but it’s also the place where his whole detective thing started.”
Kyungsoo moves out from behind the chair to stand beside him, and Chanyeol peeks up to watch the way he bites his lip as he thinks. “Well, what’s the detective telling you? If you put yourself in his place, he’ll tell you what should happen next.”
“That makes no sense,” Chanyeol whines, thunking his head back down onto the desk.
Kyungsoo just laughs, pulling the chair back so Chanyeol has to sit up again. “It’s not worth getting worked up over right now. Come on, it’s late. Let’s get to bed.”
It’s a bit of strange routine they have, Chanyeol supposes, as he gets up to follow Kyungsoo to his bedroom. He spends the day writing - or, trying to write, really - and in the evenings, Kyungsoo comes over to sleep. He’s supposed to be on hand and at the ready to decipher the strange recurring dreams Chanyeol has, since Chanyeol barely remembers them after a few minutes - but on the nights where Chanyeol doesn’t dream, they just sleep side by side. Chanyeol likes those night best, the ones where it feels so easy to be close to Kyungsoo.
Tonight, though, doesn’t seem like it will be one of those. As soon as they’re both under the covers, Kyungsoo turns to face him. “Tell me again what this detective’s deal is.”
Chanyeol sighs and sits up a little. “Detective Kim Jongin goes back to his childhood hometown to solve a murder there. He left the town behind years and years ago because he witnessed Oh Sehun, his at-the-time best friend, killing someone, which inspired him to solve crimes in the first place. Now that’s he’s back, he has to solve the murder, obviously, but he also has to deal with this stuff from his past that’s just been shoved under the rug for a long time, and-- didn’t you just tell me I shouldn’t stress about this right now?”
Kyungsoo shrugs. “As your live-in dream-analyst-slash-brainstorm-assistant, I have to know these things.”
“Not live-in,” Chanyeol scoffs, but Kyungsoo gives him a look and gestures at their current position.
“I sleep in your bed most nights. I basically live here.”
Chanyeol yawns instead of arguing back, and the room goes comfortably quiet. He closes his eyes and tries to drive all book-writing-related things out of his mind, attempting to focus on everything else that’s happened recently instead--
“Oh, by the way,” he says, turning back to Kyungsoo, “I’m seeing my sister tomorrow.”
“Yeah?”
“Yep, she called a few days ago.” He props himself up on one elbow. “There’s some-- stuff she wants to talk about. Family stuff.”
Kyungsoo nods. “Are you going to tell her about your dreams?”
“Uh, maybe,” Chanyeol says, looking up at the ceiling and giving a nervous laugh. “I don’t know, a recurring dream doesn’t seem very--”
“It is important,” Kyungsoo says before he can finish, “but if you don’t want to tell her, that’s okay.”
Chanyeol can’t help smiling, a wave of affection surging through him as he flops back down onto his pillow. “I’ll think about it,” he says, and then, after a moment’s pause, “Thank you, Kyungsoo.”
Just before he closes his eyes, he sees Kyungsoo’s pretty heart-shaped smile in the dark. “That’s what I’m here for,” he says softly, soothingly, and Chanyeol drifts off with Kyungsoo’s voice in his ears.
--
In dreamspace he follows Jongin as he wanders through the house from his childhood, picking up bits of memory under rugs and hidden in bookcases. He thinks briefly of what Kyungsoo had said, about putting himself in Jongin’s place - and then he is, watching the dream unfold through Jongin’s eyes instead.
He comes upon a door and ducks down to peer through the keyhole, which grows to show him more of the room on the other side. There he can see Sehun, towering over another figure, and watch the knife in his hand glint as it comes down in an almost graceful arc.
He’s seen this before - this dream has come every night since he decided this part of the plot, save one where he dreamed of the train instead. There are tiny differences, like the way Sehun swings the knife, the size of the keyhole, the books around the house - and tonight, it’s the strong scent of burning wood that hits him as soon as he leans away from the door.
Chanyeol wakes up with a fading pain in his back, as if it had been searing just a moment before. It’s uncomfortable even though it doesn’t hurt anymore, and he kicks his blankets off sleepily, heaving himself up from bed to go check for injury in the bathroom mirror.
He barely makes it two steps before Kyungsoo sits up as well. “Chanyeol? What’s wrong?”
“I’m-- something hurts, I don’t know, I just... want to look.”
“I can look for you,” Kyungsoo says, ushering him back to the bed.
Chanyeol sits on the edge with his back to Kyungsoo, and pulls his sleep shirt off over his head. Even as tired as he is, the feeling of Kyungsoo’s hands, feather-light, tracing tingling lines over his back isn’t something he can ignore. “It doesn’t hurt anymore,” he murmurs, “but can you see anything there?”
“No,” Kyungsoo hums. “There’s nothing.”
--
You have <1> new message.
“Hi, it’s me again. Sorry for snapping at you yesterday. I’m just… stressed, about this whole thing. I thought it was over, you know, and now they’re saying all this about the fire maybe being set by someone who was inside the house, and I-- I know you’re stressed too, I know you have a deadline and I know this isn’t helping. I’m sorry.
“Call me, okay? Let’s get together again soon. I want to hear more about those dreams you’re having. I know you said you have someone-- Kyungsoo, I think? And it’s good that he’s helping you out, but… I’d like to talk to him about it myself. I feel like I’m overdue to meet him, anyway-- oh, this is a really long message, isn’t it.
“Okay, I’ll see you soon - and do call me back, please, Chanyeol, you have a telephone for a reason. I love you. Bye.”
--
“My sister wants to meet you,” Chanyeol says, as casually as he can manage.
“Oh?” Kyungsoo laughs on the other end of the phone line. “Does she want to make sure I have honourable intentions?”
Chanyeol scoffs, rolling over onto his back. “More like she wants to make sure you’re not going to steal my manuscript.”
“Yeah, I’m definitely in this to become a fake bestselling author, you got me,” Kyungsoo deadpans. “But speaking of manuscript--”
“I should’ve known you’d latch onto that.”
“--how is it coming?”
“Really well, actually,” Chanyeol sighs happily. “It’s weird, I’ve been so immersed in it that I almost forget that you’re not here, reading over my shoulder as usual.”
Kyungsoo laughs again. “Yeah, sorry I haven’t been around in a few days. But it’s good that you’re working so hard.”
Chanyeol hums, pleased with the praise. “I think I could finish soon, if I keep at it like this.”
“It’s getting late, though,” Kyungsoo says, sounding amused. “Are you still writing?”
“Ah, no,” Chanyeol says, glancing at the clock. “I got stuck a bit ago, and decided to just go back to it tomorrow.”
“Oh. Where are you stuck?”
Chanyeol rolls over again to think about it. “Okay, so, he’s gotten to his house, he remembers the murder, he doesn’t find the knife until the next chapter, but this one part is like… like he knows what he saw, and standing there he can remember it clearly, and he’s almost… at peace with it?” He makes a face. “That’s not the right word. More like he’s… accepting it. Or he could, if he wanted to.
“He’s caught between staying there, looking into the room and letting his memory eat at him, or turning away and moving forward from it. Either way, he knows what happened and how it’s affected him, but he can either let it continue, or let it go.”
It takes Chanyeol a few seconds to realize that Kyungsoo has stopped responding, and after a moment of worry he glances at the clock again. It is kind of late, he supposes. Kyungsoo must’ve fallen asleep with his phone in his hand.
Chanyeol smiles at the mental image and slides into bed himself. He debates staying on the line, but decides to just hang up and tuck his phone away. He’ll call Kyungsoo again first thing tomorrow to laugh about it, he decides, closing his eyes, and maybe he can convince him to come over for the night…
--
He dreams the same dream once more, wandering the house and collecting bits of memories that aren’t his. It’s familiar, by now, and even if his feet didn’t move on their own he would know the route by heart.
When he comes to the door, though, he ducks down to the keyhole but it’s disappeared. The whole door swings open instead, and Chanyeol - it is Chanyeol now, it hasn’t been Jongin for a while - can see the whole room; the table in the corner, the curtains and carpet, the bed on one side, and Sehun.
Except it isn't Sehun, it's himself, another Chanyeol, like he's looking into some strange mirror. Instead of a knife it's a lighter in his hand, and instead of bringing it down to strike he smiles, and flicks up a spark--
Chanyeol wakes with a feeling like he's just missed a loud noise, the faint echo hanging in the air above his bed. The strange faded pain in his back is there, too, but this time, Kyungsoo isn't. Throwing the covers off, Chanyeol gets out of bed and makes his way to the bathroom, tugging off his shirt as he goes.
It's a bit of a struggle to peek over his shoulder to see the entire reflection of his back in the mirror. He wishes for a moment that Kyungsoo was here instead, to look and tell him it's nothing like he had the last time - but then he sees the scar, and freezes.
It's a pinkish starburst in the centre of his back, a discoloured splash right across his spine that he knows, somehow, is from a burn. He tries to recall any encounters he's had with fire, but the first thing that comes to mind is the sparking lighter from his dream and then the image won’t leave, even as he trips away from the mirror and back to his bedroom. He tries his best to ignore the shake in his hands as he picks up his phone and dials Kyungsoo.
The number you have dialled is not in service.
Chanyeol blinks. That can’t be right. He checks that he called the right number, then opens his list of received calls. Kyungsoo had called him earlier, there must be some mistake--
But Kyungsoo’s name isn’t on the list. Chanyeol scrolls down through all the names until he’s a month back, and Do Kyungsoo doesn’t appear even once. Trying to ignore the chill working its way down his spine, he switches to outgoing calls - Kyungsoo is one of the only people he talks to on his cellphone, there must be something there, he’s sure of it--
>Do Kyungsoo - no answer
>Do Kyungsoo - no answer
>Do Kyungsoo - no answer
>Do Kyungsoo - no answer
>Do Kyungsoo - no answer
>Do Kyungsoo - no answer
He puts his phone down as calmly as he can and stumbles to the bathroom, turns on the shower and lets the sound of the water drumming against the tile drown out the pounding in his head.
But even standing under the spray he doesn't feel right - the scar has obviously long since healed, but the hot water over his back is uncomfortable, no matter how long he waits for his skin to get used to the temperature. He ends up getting out when his head starts to hurt, the steamy air too thick to breathe.
When he shuts off the water, the apartment is quiet enough for him to hear the faint beeping of the answering machine, room away, through the door. He pulls his clothes back on without drying off, and drips his way down the hall to press play on the console.
You have <1> new message.
“Chanyeol, it’s me. Listen, there’s... a doctor here that I want you to meet. She works in the psychiatric ward-- and I know that sounds scary, but we need to talk, okay? About you and your dreams and-- and about Kyungsoo. He’s not… he’s not what you think.
“I made you an appointment. It’s really important that you show up. If you don’t, I-- we’ll have to come get you. Please call me back. I love you. See you soon.”
The water dripping out of his hair makes a tiny puddle on the floor. He listens again.
“--about you and your dreams and-- and about Kyungsoo. He’s not--”
Again.
“--We’ll have to come get you. Please call me ba--”
Message deleted.
--
Much later, Chanyeol returns to bed. He pulls down the covers on both sides, then lies back to watch the sun creep over the empty space beside him.
“I think I’ll start it over,” he says to the room, then closes his eyes and hopes.
“Your book?” It takes a moment, like a delayed response in a long-distance phone call, but Kyungsoo is there again. Tinny and a little strained, but there. “Why now? You were so close to the end.”
Chanyeol swallows a sob of relief and focuses on keeping his voice steady. “I didn’t like the direction it was going in. I think I have another idea already, anyway.”
He feels a soft breath against his face, and when he peeks through his lashes Kyungsoo is there, lying next to him. Like he was there all along. “Tell me about it.”
“Something about a boy,” Chanyeol starts, timid, as if a harsh consonant will scare Kyungsoo away, “who runs into the forest to get away from a monster, even though the forest has monsters too.”
“I thought you were a mystery writer,” Kyungsoo hums. A smile flits over his face and is gone again, and Chanyeol follows its path with his eyes.
“It could be a mystery,” he says, hushed. “Maybe at the end you find out the boy was the monster all along.”
Kyungsoo looks down at the sheets between them. “Then maybe he belongs in the forest.”
Chanyeol smiles, sliding his hand across the gap to curl his fingers around Kyungsoo’s. The touch isn’t warm like he wants it to be, but it’s enough. “Maybe he does.”
--
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