pairing: ChenLay
length: 859 words
Part Two: For You
Part Three: Breaking Chains

“Yixing, please.”

The chilly wind blew through the air, causing the high collar and the rounded ends of the taller man’s dark brown trench coat to flutter back and forth. It was dark, but he was still able to see the smaller man in front of him as they stood on the roof of a ten-story building. The roof was completely empty, save for a door that led down to the lower levels of the building and several dry leaves that littered the cement floor.

The smaller man was clutching his injured arm close to his chest as he breathed raggedly. A Five-Seven pistol was held out at an arm’s length in front of the taller man, aimed directly at the smaller man’s head.

“Yixing, please.”

He gritted his teeth as a small tremor traveled throughout his entire arm, causing the gun to slightly shake in his grip. His pointer finger was still resting on the cold, steel trigger. All he needed was to push it back and the metal bullet would fire from the gun.

Straight into Jongdae’s head.

“Yixing, please.”

Jongdae’s begging was becoming more insistent, even if he was just repeating the same words over and over again.

It was painful, so painful, to be in this situation.

Where did everything go wrong? When did they reach this point? Why did he have to be the one pointing a pistol at his best friend’s head?

“Yixing, please.”

The wispy, gray clouds in the night sky slowly passed overhead, casting darker shadows on the two. The air grew colder as his heart clenched tightly in his chest. Oh, how he wished this were all just a dream. Just a horrid nightmare that he could wake himself up from eventually. Even if he got cold sweats and sticky palms as he sat up in bed, trying to will away the nightmare, that was preferable to the reality of the moment.

Because no matter how hard he tried to escape, he wouldn’t be able to wake up from this.

“Yixing, please. You don’t have to listen to him.”

The rawness of Jongdae’s pleas amidst his labored breathing felt like sharp tacks throwing themselves onto the taller man’s body, bypassing the thick clothes he was wearing. It would be so easy to just lower the gun and whisk away Jongdae.

Whisk him away to a place where no one would be able to find them. Whisk him away to a place where they would always be safe. Whisk him away to a place where it would just be the two of them. And only the two of them.

But life didn’t work like that.

Because Yixing’s hands were tied.

“Yixing, please. You can be your own person.”

Could he though? Could Yixing really break away from the life he had been living for the past twenty years? Could Yixing risk going against the one who had given him another chance at life at the cost of the one who had given meaning to his life?

He didn’t know what to do.

“Yixing, please. I know what I did was wrong. But that doesn’t mean what he’s doing is right either.”

Lies. All lies.

Someone had to be right. There was no other way to justify this. If Yifan was wrong, that meant Yixing was wrong as well.

Because Zhang Yixing’s only purpose in life was to exist as the tool of Wu Yifan. If the words coming out of Jongdae’s mouth were true, then he was completely overturning everything that Yixing had grown up knowing as the truth.

He wanted to believe Jongdae so badly. The smaller man was his best friend. There was no reason not to trust him.

But the black ribbon tied around Yixing’s neck was preventing him from doing so.

And Yifan’s low, husky voice in his right ear kept him from dropping the gun right then and there.

“Yixing, please. You know I only want what’s best for you.”

Those were the exact same words that Yifan whispered into his ear whenever Yixing felt like he'd had enough of this life as Yifan’s right hand man. And with no other place to run to, he stayed because the Wu Clan was the only home that Yixing knew. After all, no one else had taken notice of that poor orphan child living off of scraps on the streets except for Wu Yifan.

“Yixing, please. Just…do the right thing…” Tears filled the wounded smaller man’s eyes before falling and splashing onto the gray floor.

“How can I if I don’t even know what the right thing is?” the taller man choked out in anguish as his grip on the pistol tightened.

Jongdae didn’t know how to respond.

“Finish it,” the voice in his ear commanded without hesitation.

“Yixing, please.” The persistence in Jongdae’s voice faded. There was only a sense of calmness in his tone as he spoke to the taller man again.

Yixing closed his eyes and pressed his lips together in a thin line. He steadied his trembling hand and aimed the pistol once more.

And a single shot rang out, echoing into the night.

♈♈♈