Well, who thought I would end up writing a hella long exo one shot
Anyway I hope you enjoy this and understand that the following story is only fiction. Except a couple of things I took from wikipedia regarding the 1960 in South Korea. xx

June 13, 1961

Dear Stranger,

I see you everyday sitting on the same rock next to the shore as the waves dance with your toes. Your jeans rolled up and your shirt ed. The sun trailing its rays along your bare chest. I see you everyday. It’s easy to notice you.

You, with your eyes pierced with the horizon, making me want to drown so I can become the ocean, the subject of your admiration. You, with your raven hair that is blown by the wind making my hands ache from not touching it. There’s you.

There’s always you, standing ten feet away from me, painting quietly, the waves dancing with your toes. I see you everyday. It’s easy to notice you.

See you soon (just not too soon),
K.J.

***

“I need you,” Baekhyun’s loud voice echoed in the library and Chanyeol huffed while carefully shutting the book he was reading. He eyed the boy in front of him and felt a smile trace his lips, because Baekhyun was made of little treasures hidden in the most exquisite parts of the universe and only Chanyeol could admire them.

“Don’t you always, dear?” he replied in a mocking tone, voice honey sweet in its own husky way as he took off his glasses and placed them on the table.

“Let me rephrase that,” Baekhyun said slightly annoyed at the other boy, his tongue his lips briefly. “I need your bookworm skills.”

“Of course you do love,” Chanyeol said smirking and putting his glasses back on, his eyes drifting off to the book again, but his heart still beating louder than usual, daring him to look up and meet his eyes with the bittersweet coffee color ones that Baekhyun had.

He didn’t.

He forced himself to remain still, to keep reading the same paragraph for the seventh time as the words collided together making no sense at all. But that was probably his mind making no sense out of them, distracted by Baekhyun’s light tap on the hardboard floor of the library. Chanyeol smirked and did his best to hide his face behind the book, not letting the other boy see how amused he was seeing him annoyed and frustrated at Chanyeol’s actions.

The clock on the wall ticked and tocked slowly for some more seconds, Chanyeol still reading the same paragraph and Baekhyun still tapping nervously, until the silence between the librarian and the loud boy was broken when Baekhyun placed an wooden box on top of Chanyeol’s desk, making him shiver at the noise and jump in his chair.

“What the hell is-“

“A box. Obviously,” Baekhyun remarked and Chanyeol’s eyes drifted towards the object, observing every detail of it. It was vintage, the wooden moldy from the humidity. Opened envelopes were found inside, the papers a light shade of yellow and the smell similar to the old gazettes that were at the private section of the library. Chanyeol could smell salt and for a second he felt like he was at the beach, near the sea, but his thoughts were quickly snapped away at Baekhyun’s voice talking, once again too loud for a library.

“Curious yet, bookworm?” He asked, his hands making its way inside his left pocket.

“Where did you get this?” Chanyeol quietly asked, a bit dazzled, his eyes following Bakhyun’s movements.

“The beach,” he his lips again, throwing his still wet hair back from the swimming and oh boy, didn’t Chanyeol die for a second at the view. Distracted by the boy’s sharp jaw and inviting neck, Chanyeol didn’t notice a cigarette being placed in Baekhyun’s thin lips. Only when he heard the lighter flicker he jumped out of his thoughts and snapped at the other boy.

“It’s a library for ’s sake,” He half screamed getting up from his chair and looking angrily at Baekhyun, their faces dangerously close, the library’s table surprisingly becoming smaller, minimizing the distance between them.

“One of the reasons why you should be quiet,” Baekhyun smirked, a puff of smoke being blown at Chanyeol’s face making him flush red.

Baekhyun made himself comfortable at the other side of the table, his free hand tangling in Chanyeol’s hair, pulling his head back as he carefully observed the younger boy, his lips once more, because as much as he didn’t want to admit it, he was weak whenever he forwardly met Chanyeol’s  eyes and right now he was doing everything he could to avoid them.

“You know you want to help me,” Baekhyun smirked and Chanyeol let out a loud sigh before shaking his head from the grip and picking the first envelope, opening it.

“What exactly do you want?” he asked while letting himself get lost in the letter in front of him. The handwriting was neat and luckily the humidity hadn’t damaged the ink.

“Who is K.J. and who is he writing to,” Baekhyun replied, as if it was the easiest thing to discover.

Chanyeol’s lips formed a thin line, before he got up from the desk, lifting the wooden box and walking inside into the depths of the library.

“Chen,” he called out and a boy popped up from one of the shelves, “fill me in, will you?” He asked sweetly and Baekhyun imagined how instead of snarly remarks towards each other he got to hear Chanyeol’s dreamy voice directed at him. If only once he could hear that, he would replay it in his mind over and over again like a broken mixtape, because Chanyeol’s voice was something he had never heard, not even between the piano notes or in the songs birds sing on spring.

“Have you read all the letters?” Chanyeol said bluntly now stopping in front of a door, making Baekhyun’s small frame bump at his back.

“What?” he asked confused, tip toeing so he could get on Chanyeol’s eye level as the other boy turned his head while unlocking the door.

“The letters,” he repeated, “have you read them all?”

“Just the first one,” Bakhyun replied, the cigarette still dancing between his lips.

“Will you turn that off, for the sake of history? I don’t want this room to be burnt down!”

Baekhyun annoyed threw the cigarette on the ground and stepped on it.

“Happy now?” he asked with an eye roll, but his heart did a much bigger roll ending up on his stomach when Chanyeol’s hand gripped his wrist and he looked straight at Bakhyun with burning eyes.

“You pick that up. Right now.” He said, taking one step closer, his eyes piercing with Baekhyun’s and the older boy’s lips shook a bit before he bit it hard. If Chanyeol had stood a while longer there, staring at him, he might as well could taste blood coming from the bottom lip that was captured between his teeth, but luckily the taller boy went inside and started searching for something, leaving Bakhyun dazzled outisde noticing the thin line that got formed again in Chanyeol's lips.

Baekhyun picked up the cigarette and put it inside his packet, noting himself to throw it out later.

“Careful with the wet hair,” Chanyeol’s voice said in a huff, the wooden box now left on the ground as his eyes were looking at the large pages of an old gazette.

“And what is that?” Baekhyn asked, sitting next to Chanyeol and leaning close to him, his smoky breath tickling the younger boy’s neck.

“I have an idea as to who K.J. might be.”

“Want me to read the other letter?” Baekhyun asked, opening the second envelope and scanning the paper for a second. He cleared his voice, gave one more look at Chanyeol who nodded approvingly and started reading.

June 19, 1961

Dear Stranger,

I feel like I am drowning in water and yet, my whole being is on fire. There’s an inside war in the city each time a demonstration starts and I wish I could run away from it, but like everyone else I am caught in the web of lies. I am caught in this society.

I wish I knew your secret. I wish I knew how to be half as peaceful and free as you.

I got your note, asking me who I was and now more than ever I feel like I don’t know myself. I wish I met me and gave you the perfect description of who I am, of what I am and of why I come to be the person who always stands ten feet away from you, too scared to tangle my hand in your hair. I am nothing but a puppet with strings who is controlled in this hell show my life is, dancing to the rhythm of the loud cries on the bloody streets.

And there’s always you. You with your ed shirt and rolled up jeans whose toes dance with the waves that crash on the rock where you stand painting.

See you soon (just not too soon),
K.J.

Baekhyun’s voice echoed in the empty room as he read the closing remarks. Chanyeol had listened quietly. Less to the words and more to the sweet buzz Baekhyun’s voice was for his ears, eyes dancing from Baekhyun’s lips shaping perfectly as he pronounced the words to the way the half dried hair fell in front of Baekhyun’s eyes, the older boy not bothering to push it back as he read.

“K.J.” Baekhyun repeated in a small voice as he gave the letter to Chanyeol who tried to focus on the words more than to the boy standing next to him. “K. J.” he repeated again.

“Give me the third letter,” Chanyeol ordered a bit more confidentaly and Baekhyun handed it to the other boy, who immediately took it out of the envelope and started reading it.

June 27, 2016

Dear Stranger,

I’ve been stuck for too long, unable to tire myself walking to the beach. I see you still stand at the same spot, sitting on the same rock. I am five feet away from you today. I see red in your canvas, not the scary one that haunts my nightmares, but the sweet one, the one that reminds me of love and passion.

It’s the color of the ed shirts you wear