Suho

Kris tells Suho about his ‘boyfriend’ first.

Well, he doesn’t exactly tell him, more than he sends Suho a snapchat video, late one evening in the middle of May.

It’s a video filmed in the back of a car, probably an Uber, since Kris is oddly fond of the service, and it’s dark outside, but the main focus of the video is a guy—who Suho now knows as Tao—who is facing the camera, talking earnestly to Kris about something, maybe an ice-cream shop that opens late that they’re planning to visit—it’s quite difficult to understand him.

Behind him, the car window plays a motion picture frozen in time, high-rises passing in and out of frame, city lights driven through, scenic and forgotten, lives passed, homes circled around. The blues and greens of building illumination, and reds and whites of cars, lives, zooming beyond them, all blurred by the poor lighting and generally poor quality of snapchat videos, make the world that Kris and his then-mystery boy exist in seem surreal and beautiful.

What really makes the video, however, is the filter that Kris has put on Tao without the other’s awareness. Floating atop Tao’s head is one of the widely used flower crown filters, and the sparkling of the boy’s eyes and animated liveliness make him look like a sweet fairy. Just as the video is about to end, Tao’s eyes grow wide.

“Are you snapchatting me?” He squeals, and the video begins to shake as Kris laughs and the recording ends, ten short seconds, a tiny window into their world.

The caption is only a large block of white text that says, 00:53.

Kris doesn’t snapchat Suho again after that, but Suho knows
 

Oh, Suho knows.

wrote this a few nights ago

didnt think it fit anywhere else

i want to write words that feel like nostalgia and warm winter days even though it's snowing outside

maybe one day i will

as always i love you guys