17/06/17

-

Chanyeol

~

We talk for a few days, and Baekhyun agrees with much debate to finally get surgery done on the cataracts in his eyes.

He had shifted in his seat the first time I had brought it up, head dropping to his chin and eyes scrunching shut almost indignantly.

He had shaken his head side to side in disapproval, turning away from me.

I tried again the next day, the second he walked in.

'It’ll make everything so much easier for you.' I had said.

He shook his head again, after a moment’s hesitation.

The third day, he finally agrees after asking a simple question.

‘Will it make me more normal?’ he asks me timidly.

With a slight ache in my heart, I swallow thickly.

‘Yeah. Yeah, it will.’

I don’t tell him that he’s perfect how he is, that he’s already so much better than normal, because I know I need to convince him of this surgery- whatever it takes.

When he agrees almost immediately, lips set in a determined line, I feel guilt course through my veins. I ignore it, plastering a happy smile onto my face.

‘Great, I’ll book you in for some time next week or the week after.’

-

When Baekhyun enters my office after school on a Friday, I notice two things almost immediately.

One - he is almost an hour late. His school ended two hours ago, and he should’ve been here a while ago. He wears a sheepish smile on his face, giving his assigned guard a small nod of acknowledgement. The man bows and leaves the room. The second the door shuts and Baekhyun is seated, I pounce on him almost immediately, leaning forward so far I’m basically lying on the table.

‘Where were you? What happened? Are you okay?’

He just smiles sheepishly.

This leads me to my second point.

‘Why are your clothes so dirty?’

Two - Baekhyun’s normally immaculate white shirt is ruffled and stained with mud. His collar is folded wrongly, and the top button is undone, revealing his equally dirty undershirt.

He smiles again, smaller this time.

Instead of probing, I simply lean over and fasten the undone button, making him turn his head away in embarrassment.

I don’t have the right to ask Baekhyun too much of his personal life, after all.

I’m just his doctor.

-

We begin speech surgery two days later, which mostly consists of me attempting to coax him into speaking with the aid of a huge packet of multicoloured fairy floss.

It doesn’t end well, with Baekhyun cheating me out of giving him the fairy floss in the end. When he decided that he was sick of trying, he simply whipped out some aegyo that I had no idea he possessed, and it took embarrassingly little convincing to get the fairy floss from me after that. I always was a er for cute things.

Maybe that explains the warm, tingly feeling I get when I’m with Baekhyun. Of course, that’s why.

But there’s a small voice nagging at the back of my head whenever I tell myself so.

Sure, Chanyeol. Keep lying to yourself.

-

The speech therapy isn’t going anywhere. We have gone through all of our sessions with pretty much no progress (and a hell of a lot of fairy floss) and I’ve pretty much given up for now.

-

Baekhyun’s cataract removal surgery is on a Wednesday at 4:30pm. I’m picking Baekhyun up after school to him myself, because there won’t be enough time for him to come to my office and then go from there with me. I get to his school a few minutes early, curious about the sort of environment he’s in.

I expect to see smiling teenagers and bustling corridors. What I don’t expect when I turn round the brick-walled corner is Baekhyun. More specifically, Baekhyun propped up against a wall, motionless as one of the three boys surrounding him jeers as he tips the contents of Baekhyun’s backpack onto the pavement. I watch as the expensive contents tumble out; his phone, a laptop, books, glasses. Baekhyun sags, head bowed and unable to do anything as it goes on. “Can you see what I’m doing?” the boy asks him, still clutching the now empty school bag. “Can you see it, Byun? Of course not, you pathetic little . Blind, deaf, mute, god knows why your parents chose something like you.” Baekhyun trembles from his spot against the wall, unable to do anything, say anything. His hands clench and unclench in the fabric of his shirt, lips pursed tightly.

“Charity case.” the bully spits, shoving the empty bag against Baekhyun’s chest and snorting along with his friends as Baekhyun crumbles down against the wall, curling into himself.

“Unwanted.” a kick in the stomach, sending Baekhyun sprawling.

“Just go die, Byun.” Another kick while he’s still down, this time to the shoulder.

“Hey!” I yell, red-hot anger flooding through my veins. The boys all look up, even frail little Baekhyun from his position on the floor. His face is contorted in pain, eyebrows drawn together and lower lip pulled between his teeth so hard it looks close to bleeding.

“What the do you all think you’re doing?”

The boy pauses with his foot raised halfway for another kick.

“This is none of your business, Ahjussi.”

I see red everywhere. Red, red, red.

I surge forward, fist colliding with the boy’s cheek and sending him to the floor.

The other two stare at me warily, backing away. They send a fleeting glance to their friend on the floor before shaking their heads.

“Nah, man, we’re out.”

They run away, leaving Baekhyun and the boy on the ground. Some friends they are.

He stares at me from the gravel, spitting out blood at my feet.

“What, you a too? You and Byun ing? Good for you, since no one else wants him.” he leers through bloodstained teeth with a grimace on his face.

The red intensifies. My vision is clouding, head spinning and heavy with anger. My clenched fists begin to tremble and it’s all I can do to not kill him right there.  I step forward to drive my foot into his knee, right where the joint is, and he screeches loudly, twisting away instantly. I crouch down next to his head, putting a finger on his forehead.

“You stay the away from Baekhyun, you hear me?” I whisper lowly. He doesn’t respond, and I cruelly twist my finger to dig into his neck, watching as his face contorts and he wails again.

“Do you hear me.”

“Y-yes, , please stop!”

I straighten again, turning away from him, and the energy leaves my body at once, my legs turning to jelly. I never fight. I rarely even get angry. I was that one kid in school that stayed out of trouble, was adored by teachers. What is happening?

Instead of dwelling on my anger, I turn to Baekhyun, who is propped up against the wall and squinting at us, mouth forming patterns over and over. I edge closer, watching as he flinches away first before relaxing again. I’m close enough to see what he’s mouthing, and it sends my head spinning.

Chanyeol. Chanyeol. Chanyeol.

I take his hand gently, rubbing my fingers over his knuckles.

‘It’s me.’

Baekhyun’s head dips, hair flopping over his eyes.

‘I know.’

I stay silent for a moment, watching him tremble before finally leaning over and wrapping my arms around his shaking form.