a/n;

sometimes, i think of you.
always, i miss you.
for sofia.
and hyunmi.
 

first fanfic after 3 months. this is dedicated.
sometimes, i can find courage to write again.

( He paints himself with artificial emotions and crawls deep inside, never allowing anyone to descend into the depths of his psychology. The fragility has to be protected. The innocence has to be hidden. Sungyeol sinks in the shadows, awaits and observes - eyes sharp, breath shaky. In his hand rests a heart faintly beating, hope smouldering before he kills it completely, throwing the organ away. And in the last loud cry of a beating heart that resonates through the room, Sungyeol dies. )

When the night falls and Sungyeol's body is embraced in the darkness, there's a quiet sound that conflates with his irregular heartbeat. It's a melody his mother used to croon, lips pressed to the small ear, the softness of her timbre desensitizing his tensed muscles. His skin scintillates under the rays of moonlight and he attempts to hide himself, desiring to become invisible, to dissolve into the air and be nothing. There is a reminiscence of an epiphany whispering to him, telling him to be strong. He's different, he's aware. He's the black pearl in the breathtaking, pure white sea and it sets him ablaze. There's a series of an eerie, curious tongues of flames lapping at the walls of his chest and Sungyeol feels an invisible finger pulling the trigger. A pair of orbs, so deer like, so innocent, take in the surroundings and feet take a step back.

Security is ephemeral, so is sanity.

The dulcet words he's bathed in prick at his tongue. He tastes the bitterness of lies, the motives so dark they almost take all the oxygen from him. His own insecurities saturate him in the feeling of constant danger. He runs, Sungyeol runs as fast as he can, faster, not fast enough, faster, fast— He's gone. Mind is blank, crooked smiles gawk at him and there is no escape, no moment to elope, he's caged, he's trapped—

And when he wakes up, Sungyeol remains in the prison of the body too big, five bony fingers clutching the material of the sheets. The beads of sweat forming on his forehead is the dread liquefying itself languidly, showcasing the demons that claw at his back, digging their paws mercilessly into him. The plethora of assumptions dwell inside is head, instilling him with thousands of questions which ink sinks in the white sheet of his head. They are never to be answered, he knows. Memories burn him, paint him in the swarm of emotions that alter and in the infinitesimal boy that sleeps inside his body, afraid to open his eyes, take in the rough world, Sungyeol finds his doom. He crumbles, his body curls, fingers grasp the sheet weakly and his skin is pallid. Sungyeol succumbs to the anxiety crawling towards him, he allows it to imbue him, empty and replenish with fears that devour him, overwhelm and embrace in a lovingly lethal kiss that is his last.

Darkness is ubiquitous, so is Sunggyu.

Sunggyu is coldness. The gallant coldness that possesses him, drapes the limbs over his body and tugs at the strings like the master. Sungyeol bends to every word, follows the lead and allows Sunggyu to break him, crush him, kill him.

( He hopes that Sunggyu will build him again, mould him into a human. )

Sunggyu is sharp, he's the tantalising addiction that consumes him, contorts and plays, controls and torments.

But the moment brown, helpless, innocent spheres gilmmer through the glass moist layer and stare up at him in hope, in fear, in the silent scream of pleas and when a pair of arms envelopes Sungyeol so tightly, so endearingly in the scorching heat of the coldness Sunggyu provides, he's home.

Sunggyu is home.

(  He picks up the thrown heart he found and watches it wail with fascination. )

(  His hand is warm. )

(  Salvation. )