TITLE; Pink Champagne
LENGTH; Twoshot
WORD COUNT; 7643
AUTHOR'S NOTE; This is for Lau (thanhxuan on aff) for her birthday yesterday!!! <3 Happy birthday dude!! This will prob be up like later? I know I say that about every fic but like honestly.  I found this in my drafts and I only had 400 words (the section below) and I hadn't worked on it in a year so I figured I'd finish it and YEAH basically HAHAH 

Donghae has had his bags packed for days, just in case.

Half past twelve and Donghae feels his hands practically shaking in his lap and the option of running away is finally setting in as he sits on his cartoon bed sheets timidly, legs glued together, heart palpitating in his chest. His breathing shallows and he wants to run his fingers through his hair but he can’t seem to find it in himself to bring his hand away from his lap. His ribs threaten to crack and the adrenaline makes him want to run a marathon and cry for hours and maybe sing a song, perhaps all at once.

Twelve to twelve and Donghae finally makes up his mind. He stands up, legs unsure as his arms reach for the packed suitcase he had hidden from his parents. Donghae grabs at the soft handle and lets out a breath he wasn’t aware was being held as he finds a sense of comfort in the fabric that feels just as foreign as it does close to home. This is it, this is finally it.

He opens his bedroom door gently, softly, as he uses all the muscles in his arm to lift the luggage and run out as to make no sounds, struggling with unlocking the door quietly as the only source of light is the moon through the peaks in the tacky curtains Donghae and his mum had picked out together.

Closing the door behind him is hard but manageable thanks to the installation of the flashlight his iPhone came with. Donghae quickly sprints with the luggage in his arms. The flashing by the of trees and the smell of musk in the air was all taken for granted for twenty two years of his life as he finally registers them into his brain as the last time ever.

Donghae makes it to a taxi stand, finally. He checks the phone in his pocket and squints at the bright light before making out the time and figuring that perhaps this was a bad idea, because it didn’t seem like there would be any taxis in Mokpo (of all places) at midnight.

But everything turns around when he sees a light in the distance, and when the taxi sign comes into view, he sticks out his arm and vigorously waves it.

One past midnight and Donghae is in a cab and going to Seoul.

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