Author T. note: BIG CHAPTER AHEAD! 13K. I want to thank you for picking up this story and I hope you will all enjoy this! More chapters will come soon so stay tuned!! Comments are highly loved~ :) 

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2016 December, 21^st

Maybe we all need one more miracle before Christmas, maybe all we want for Christmas is to be with the one we love, maybe Christmas equals happiness, and yet, he stands there, looking at his Christmas tree and thinks that he can’t really remember his Christmas from three years ago. Did he spend it with his friends? Did he made the Christmas tree and sang carols with them together? Did he exchanged presents? He wants to know and yet he can’t remember. His miracle before Christmas, his wish was one thing, and one thing only: to remember.

Time of joy and time of happiness. Words that people normally relate to Christmas, words he liked to use for it too, but now, with each year that passed he feels like he is missing something. One year, two years, three years, and the whole in his soul feels bigger, deeper, and darker. He is missing something, he needs a light to guide him out of this, a light to make his soul bright again, and he wants to find the light at the end of the tunnel. In front of the fireplace he watches as the wood burns out, how fire consumed everything, and yet at the same time made him feel warm. There was a certain calmness in certain moments of the day where he would sit down and watch how fire ate away everything, how the warmth melted his frosted windows, warmed his frozen long limbs, calmed his dead soul.

And yet, at night, the fire made him restless, watching the fire alone, watching how the flame burned even the remains and stopped only when it all turned to ashes made him scared. It was as if when he watched the fire at night, there was no more certainty that the fire will made him feel warm, will protect him from the cold. At night the fire seemed evil, or more like seemed as if it was hiding something, from him, from the world. Each time he looked at the fire burning, he felt how a part of him ached.

Park Chanyeol, loved to watch the fire burn, and for three years now he had no answer for why he loved it, why looking at the fire made him calm, the sound of wood cracking gave him safety. Or why each time Christmas was near his whole body trembled in the sight of fire, why the guarantee of protection it offered was no longer there and he felt his heart weak, why his body was heavy and his head hurt more than it should.

Meds helped for a while, and yet he can’t remember when he started to take them, his memory was a mess, his life was a confusion of blurred lines and mundane things that followed it each other and repeated in a loop. And the worst part was that he couldn’t remember when it all started, where he went wrong, when he was left alone in this big house, with no friends or family. He has foggy memories of friends, faces he can’t pin down anymore, voices he remembers sometimes and wonders if they are really there or he is losing it.

Sleeping next to the fireplace was bliss. There was the thrill of fear and shrill of sweat that appeared on the back of his neck. Sitting down on the brown carpet, a sweet, spicy hot flavor filling the air, making his whole body relax, his muscles that seemed tense before, were no longer like that, a pillow under his head, his eyes closed, taking in the smell of the room, the sweetness of the air that seemed to make him forget and remember at the same time, a forgotten cup of tea next to his knees, as he was facing the fire once more, and this time it felt different. He felt his eyelids heavy, his body was losing its warmth, and soon enough he fell asleep to the sound of the cracking wood and smell of cinnamon.

 

2013 December, 21^st  

Silver-white marble pillars standing tall in the rich garden, pots of frozen flowers and ice-covered roses filling the verges of the circle shaped pavement, small pine trees behind the patch of roses, matching tall ones in front of the first storey of the mansion, full of snow on each branch. The way to the manor was paved with aggregate, being a straight way, until the path split in forming a circle around the fountain, that stopped spilling water a long time ago, and then uniting once more, paving the way leading straight for the stairs that faced the front.

The house was big, made of ancaster stone from Lincolnshire, the decorative gondola mooring rings carved in stone on the exterior walls. The manor and hall have extensive and busy carved decoration, featuring strap work and a profusion of decorative forms. The window tracery of the upper floors in the central block and the general business of the decoration look back to the middle Ages, giving off a fantasy-gothic feel to the mansion itself. The house has a central block dominated by a hall three storeys high, with a stone screen at one end and galleries at either end, with the "Prospect Room" above that. There are towers at each corner, projecting out from this top floor. At each corner of the house is a square pavilion of three storeys, with decorative features rising above the roof line. Much of the basement storey is cut from the rock the house sits on. The very foundation of the manor is old and rigid, a veritable fortress, a pastiche of Gothic architecture combined with features of castellated architecture.

The interior has paintings on the ceilings of the two main staircases and round the walls. The hall with a fake hammer beam wood ceiling, is mainly supported by horizontal beams above, but given large and un-needed hammer beans for decoration. The gallery of the main hall contains paintings or family portraits that show just how old the manor is and how many generation lived there. Beneath the hall are many cellars and passages, and a well and associated reservoir tank, in which some his grand-grandparents used to take a daily bath.

The mansion itself was too big for one family to live in it and yet, every time Baekhyun opened the big entrance door he was looking from below, each time giving him the impression, the reminder, that he was in fact a small insignificant ant trying to reach the sky.

Snow fell once more, covering everything in sight, making the night feel more special when for him it was already special enough. Baekhyun loved to walk around the manor halls, watch the paintings on the walls and think about how special this house truly was. But even if his house was always warm, familiar, welcoming even, and nothing was ever missing, to him there was something missing. Someone, was missing now. He was once again climbing the stairs that led to his room, passing by exquisite pottery, nicely placed on expensive pieces of furniture.

He had a white rose in hand, looking at it smiling, he raised it to his nose, barely touching the top of it and smelling it. The sweet fragrance making him smell it again, reminding him how the person who gave him the rose always smelled like sweet cocoa with cinnamon; the perfume of someone who he knew all too well. Smiling again, he remembered the time when he received the white flower from a certain big ears giant, remembering the smile he had plastered on his face when he gifted him the rose, warm, king, but most of all, loving.

Entering the room, he heard the big wooded door close shut, being all too used with the sound by now, he went straight for the desk, placing the rose down in a corner as he took a seat and sighing he let his head fall back. The wooden desk had a mahogany color, resembling the wine color. There were a lot of written pages and scribbled notes all around the space, with a small cup holding pens and crayons. He was a bit sleepy and yet it wasn’t so late to go to sleep. The calmness and silence of the room, the night that seemed to fall slower this particular day, were only making him want to sleep some more, but he had to write and he wasn’t going to sleep now. He opened the drawer from the right side of the desk and taking the white rose in his hand again he smelled it one more time before placing it down next to a hard covered sketchbook. He looked at the notebook for a moment before he slid his long slim fingers underneath it and picked it up. He opened the silver-sapphire embed notebook, seeing the first page and taking in the Chinese dragon drawings, nicely painted with dark ink and spatters of silver and gold. He flipped the pages further, passing by photos stick on certain parts, all sorts of fragrances coming from other parts, scribbles here and there and folded pages that he stopped on his way to remember that he shouldn’t open those any time soon, until he reached the last written page.

He took a pen from the cup, thinking for a moment what to write, overturning the pen through his fingers. He closed his eyes, letting his mind spring free and tried to think of what to write. He let his body relax, his fingers tapping the hard wood on the desk, the pen falling through his slim fingers.

‘entry 1481;

Today it happened again. It’s the same pattern each time, but today was better than yesterday I guess. And hopefully tomorrow will be even better. I think I finally received a signal, but maybe it wasn’t a signal and I’m imagining things again. But just bear with me and let’s say, it was a signal from my tall baby. A rose, a white one. I must have read somewhere that each of the colors a rose can have, has a meaning, and white roses are associated with marriage or new beginnings, but I feel like that’s not the case here. This time it felt like it was something that was more like a gesture of ‘I’m thinking about you.’

He really knows me, I like these things, small things that have a deeper meaning. I feel like he knows me better than anyone else. Maybe tomorrow is the day we can move forward. After all, I can interpret that rose as a sign of him loving me, right? 

A kiss, is it too much to ask for?

Maybe tomorrow will bring it, or maybe this Christmas will. Maybe this time I can gather my courage and under a mistletoe, we can share a moment. How magical would that be? Just like in the movies, or the comics I read sometimes. Will my dream come true? 

I’m waiting for the day we are supposed to give out presents, I am so excited that I’d jump on him right away and kiss those plump, soft lips that always drive me insane. Do they taste like cinnamon? The sweet, sweet, taste of cinnamon seems to suit those gorgeous lips perfectly. Sweet cinnamon, cocoa and his cologne. I feel like even now, just thinking about the rose, I can smell him. I saw him, lost in thoughts, smelling the rose and then kissing the pure white flower, before he looked at it once more and gave it to me, thinking I saw nothing. He left his mark on it, trying probably to drive me insane due to his masculine scent. But cocoa, was our flavor. We used to drink this together last winter, we used to make it together and laugh about it later because we always used too much cinnamon and the whole room stank. Hot cocoa with cinnamon was indeed his favorite drink during this time.

How can I forget such a trivial thing? Am I stupid? No, probably not. I am in love; such a big word. But I feel it, I feel like it really is love, because even now, just looking at the rose I feel like he is so close. I want to hug the rose, I’d hug it, but I might destroy it. I want to feel him close, right now, but I can’t. This rose might be the only thing that gives me the certainty that he is close to me now, and I can’t crush it.

I’m letting you get under my skin, I let you take down my walls, if I don’t see you a day I feel like I can’t go on. Is this how love works? Is this how it feels when you love someone so much you feel like they are your whole world? Tell me, I want to know.

Chanyeol, I want you to answer me this.’

 

He feels the page with his fingers once more, before he closes the diary and thinks for a moment if he should just leave it there or put it back in the drawer, settling in the end for the latter. He opens the drawer once more and sees the rose, smiling he lets it there, touching the pure petals of it before tearing his gaze away and puts the diary next to it and closes the drawer.

 

2016 December, 21^st 

The branches have traded their leaves for white sleeves, the trees that surround the mansion are once more, filled with the pureness of winter. The world outside moved along without him, all warm-blooded creatures making ghosts as they breathe, the hot air mixing with the biting cold, scarves wrapped tightly around their necks, like gifts under trees. The Christmas lights tangle knots, lighting up the whole city, annually, festively. The night fell fast, dark settled, and the skies cried again youthful tears of snowflakes, glimmers of lights from outside making it possible to see inside just for a bit, and yet from the east wing of the mansion, Chanyeol was shielded from the world. Opening the window meant that he could see the city move on, when he was trapped in time. Looking outside to see how snow fell, he would only be remembered of how he couldn’t remember his last Christmas, or the Christmas before that, how he couldn’t remember faces of people who he feels are, were dear. Opening the window in winter only gave him the yearly reminder that he’s all alone with memories of a time he doesn’t really think are as special as the lost ones, but he stopped opening the window long ago.

The warmth and calmness of the room was the only thing he needed. The window of his room broke open, the cold winter air filled the room in a blink, snapping Chanyeol out of his dream. The icy wind bit his skin and made him shiver under his blanket. The old piece of cloth was never enough to shield him from the cold, but each time he covered his long limbs with the said cloth, he felt a warmness that piled up from the pit of his stomach, his heart picked up a fast pace, before the same ugly feeling set in his bones and the whole he forgot for a moment came back to grow bigger inside his soul.

He growled as he got up on his two feet, supporting his body on his skinny arms, trying to balance himself, kicking the blanket to his right side, bashing an eye over the other forgotten blankets scattered in a pile next to the fireplace. He picks himself up, with a hand rubbing around his eyes and then scratches his belly and forearm. He heads for the window, blinking the sleep out of his heavy eyelids. He needs to shut the window, he needs to lock it back and not look at the frozen world. But as he approaches the wind that comes from outside, as he feels the cold air hit his bones, he takes a small step, then two, and with each step he takes towards the window his legs feel heavier and his soul weaker.

And he fails.

As gentle as feathers, the snowflakes fall from the sky, so pure and so beautiful, the snow piles high, reaching even the smallest place on his balcony. His window frame is forgotten as he looks around, taking in the beauty of the world surrounding him. Chanyeol sees white, sees lights, and sees how untainted and alluring this world really is when Christmas is near. He takes it all in, lets the view consume him, and as his view of the world gets rewritten and retraced, he catches a glimpse of the other tower, the west one. It’s black, the once gold fortification he remembers, looks like a ruin. He can’t remember when the tower changed its color, he can’t remember when he left the room, he can’t even remember the last time he ate.

The wind hits his scrapped cheeks and chapped lips once more, making him squeeze his eyes shut, and then a certain howl starts to creep in the back of his head. He felt like something spoke there, but the maids all left, there was no one in this house, no one that he has seen anyway.

“Hello?” he asks, voice low and raspy. He hasn’t used it for a while, the low tremble of it making it sound as if it was chocked out more than spoken normally. “Is anyone there?”

He was given silence, the wind dancing around again, making him shut his eyes and let it go. If someone was there to end him so be it, it’s not like he had something to live for anymore. He wasn’t strong enough to end it, so he waited for someone else to do it for him. He locked himself up, he shut the world off and stopped trying to live anymore. There was no point in living if he felt like there was nothing left to live for. His parents passed a long time ago, he remembered that moment as clear as day, and his high school friends were no longer his friends. He had memories missing and he was living in a dark room all day, writing music and wallowing his life away. Waiting for a miracle that never came, waiting for pieces of lost time to be restored.

He sighs, his breath white in the room, leaving a trace of smoke, before he takes one more look at the world outside. He is going to close the window this time, but then as he raises his hands to grab the frames of the big frozen windows, he hears the wind howling again, sending a shiver down his spine, and looking down he spots something that didn’t look like it was there before.

Squinting his eyes to get a better look at it, as if trying to focus on something else rather than the cold, he sees a small rectangle, with snow covering it. He could only make the corner of it, a brownish color, resembling a dark wine red, almost burgundy if he focused hard enough. He let his hand fall from the window and with shaky fingers he shredded the snow from it, finally allowing him to see the shape, or more clearly, the rectangle box. He picked it up, looked around, left and right, in vain anyway, since he was living on the last floor, and no one would actually climb up the balcony.

He looked for one last time at the tower from the other side, before he held the small box in his fragile hand and with his head turned he closed the window shut and tuned the world down again. He went back to sit down, with his back leaning on the sofa, his front facing the fireplace, but the fire was out, the room was cold, and he didn’t seem to notice any of that. His legs felt numb, his head was heavy, it was as if someone was standing on the top of his head and pushed down, his eyelids seemed like they closed themselves. He shoved them off, because this always happened; it was either sleeping days in a row or not sleeping at all, there was no in between. Chanyeol tries to get back up, to make his legs work, but fails and just hits the floor with loud thud. It happened again, he was too weak, he can’t even support his weight, but it didn’t seem to faze him, because it happened so much lately that he just got used with it.

Chanyeol lays there, thinking that maybe one day this pain will end, this hollow ache in his soul will be gone and he will feel like a human again, but today wasn’t that day. Today was just like yesterday, today was the same routine of self-pity and hopelessness. He lets his eyes close, he lets his body go completely numb, because it didn’t matter if he felt a thing anyway, it all led to the same end, he will forget the feelings of today, and tomorrow will come anyway, it will repeat itself to eternity, until he finally meets his end. But even then, time will move on without him, just like it did now and just like it did in the past. He stays like that for a while, the calmness of the room settling in; too quiet, too cold, too dark.

The wind is howling outside, hitting the windows, freezing the manor, and shielding it with ice, covering even the smallest corner with snow. He hears it all, he can’t sleep, his eyes feel heavy, his head hurts, but he can’t seem to sleep. The small box fell from his hand, hitting the floor and Chanyeol heard jiggles inside. He slowly opens his eyes, feeling his throat dry, feeling his cold legs again; he picks the box from the ground and places it in his hand, but he can’t see what it is. It’s too dark to see anything. He gets up, trying to hold his weight in one hand on the edge of the bed, but he stumbles and falls.

“Seriously.” He rasps out, a dark pitched laugh echoing in the room. He was laughing at himself and how pitiful he is. He couldn’t even stand properly. He manages somehow to get on his two legs, falling two times and thinking of just giving up, but he somehow drags himself across the room to a forgotten desk that sat in a corner pilling dust. He draws the chair out, his blue lifeless fingers wrapping around the back of the chair to support himself and breathe for a moment. He sits down and stares at the desk in front of him.

There was dust all over the place, but he couldn’t see it, there were papers sprawled all over, pens that could roll down and fall on the floor if he only as much breathed next to the desk, but he could see none of that. He raised his hand that held the box, placed the box down on the dusty table before he extended his hand to search for the lamp to try and turn it on. He stumbles over a few papers, and he can hear some books falling to the ground, hitting the wooden floor and he keeps searching the lamp until he hits the wall with his fingers and moves along, feeling for something that resembles what he looks for. His hand finally finds the lamp and with a shaky finger he turns on the light.

He squints his eyes, hisses like the light burned his face, like he couldn’t even stand to see that much light in front of him. But he forces them open, blinks a few times and tries to adjust to the blinding white he sees. He looks around again, now finally being able to see what was in front of him more clearly. The wooden desk had a mahogany color, resembling the wine color. There were books piled up in a corner, dusty and used, there were a lot of written pages stocked one above the other, clipped together with a plastic clasp, and scribbled notes all around the space, a writing he didn’t know but seemed rather familiar somehow. There were pens next to a small cup that held all sorts of crayons. He wanted to touch the papers, he wanted to take on in his hand but he didn’t because he was afraid of what the papers could do to him, maybe they would trigger some memory, maybe someone used to be here with him once. Maybe he wasn’t alone from the start.

Chanyeol forgot all about the box that was standing in front of him, he was too far gone, he was losing it again, dreaming with his eyes open, hoping for another reality that might never come true, but he kept doing it, because like this he could escape his own. He feels that there’s more to this desk than it looks, because something about it being so dusty and forgotten in a corner made him imagine it was somehow special, and maybe it really was. He looks down, noticing the small drawer on the right side, and he somehow felt like he should open it and look inside. He raises his left hand that rested on his lap and biting his lower lip, he stretches his hand and grabs the silver handle and tries his hardest to pull out the drawer.

He stand there, staring inside. Something wasn’t right, something felt strange. He’s used with having no memory whatsoever of where he puts his stuff and normally his maids tell him where it is, but this was another feeling. There was something else that made it seem rather bizarre and yet, he looked at the white flower, frozen but still in a clean state, placed carefully next to a hard covered sapphire colored notebook.

“What the…” he said frowning. He was mumbling things, but only the empty soulless walls could hear him. He picked up the note, with shaky hands, not being careful enough; he picked it up and while placing it down in front of him, he inclined it wrongly and something managed to slip out from it. He looked down, following the fall of the white paper until it hit the ground. It looked like it was something rather old, having some coffee stains on one corner and another corner being almost ripped off, near the ripped corner something was scribbled with black ink. He bends down, trying hard not to get dizzy in the process and manages to pick up the hard paper card, turning it between his fingers while he gets back in a sitting position.

He doesn’t focus on the photo, turning it back between his fingers and focuses more on the corner where something was written: ‘2012, winter camp’. It reads and he only gets more confused. Winter, 2012, what did he do? He has foggy memories of that time, but now that he struggles to think about it there’s a warm feeling in his chest that somehow settles in. So he flips the photo, finally looking at the people in it. He looks carefully over it and then he spots himself. He’s wearing a checkered purple shirt, black pants and a funny hat that looks like one of those hats soldiers wore back in the day in England, something similar to it. But he can’t really pin down the people standing next to him. There a blonde guy, with a hat similar to his, but red, he’s smiling, from ear to ear, but now that he takes a better look at the photo everyone actually is. He traces with his fingers the photo, touching each person and trying to think why they look familiar, what do they mean to him. He starts from the left corner, there’s a couch and on it there’s a skinny guy, with dark clothes and blonde hair, combed back and split in a 70/30 style, he’s smirking not really smiling for the picture; next to him there’s another blonde guy, he looks sleepy, since he has dark circles that make him look like a panda; he moves on and stops because the next two look rather close, a boy with a big smile plastered on his face, standing right next to a boy that smiled and his lips formed a heart. He stops there, because he heard the faint sound of a jingle, turning his head to where the sound came from and meeting darkness.

His attention goes back to the photo, seeing the boy next to the raven heart shaped smiling boy, he was rather pretty, by his standards at least, then there was an armchair that separated the left couch from the right one. There was someone standing down on the left side of the armchair, hair short and red sweater, but it rang no bells to him so he just went on. There was the other guy on his left, he seemed rather motherly somehow, smiling at the picture as if he was proud of them, there was just that proud smile mothers give and he saw a lot in the movies when he was little. Then there was him, and the blonde guy who again rang no bells. Then another full heartwarming smiling person came and he somehow felt warm again, until his finger stopped on the last person from the very right corner of the photo. He had a red snapback, with a white sweater with some indistinct design on it. He was doing a v sign with his fingers and smiling from ear to ear.

His heart jumped, beating strangely all of a sudden and he didn’t know if it was because of his disease or because this picture really meant something more than it seemed. He puts it down, and turns his attention back to the journal. He touches the hard cover that had some silver lines that formed interesting shapes on a sapphire background. He opens it and takes in the Chinese dragons drawn in between the first page and the cover, but something was also blocking the first page from opening. There were papers, small square papers with scribbles on them. He picks one up, trying to read what was written.

‘Minseok, KIM. 1990.03.26 – Korean; he’s quiet.’ There was no photo next to it, just that and he doesn’t understand why it was there. So he picks up the next one, ‘Han, LU. 1990.04.20 – Chinese, he thinks he’s manly, but we know better.’ He’s still confused, because he doesn’t recognize neither of these names. Nothing rings any bells, and he’s starting to think he picked some strange notebook, but he thinks maybe there’s hope, so he keeps going. So he picks another one, ‘Kris, WU. 1990.11.06 – Chinese-Canadian; he thinks he’s a cold city boy.’ Nothing again, so he keeps picking them up one by one, reading the notes in black ink and he tries to remember; anything would do, but nothing works. ‘Junmyeon, KIM. 1991.05.22 – Korean; he thinks he’s our mother.’ And then another one, ‘Yixing, ZHANG. 1991.10.07 – Chinese; he’s a good dancer, but he’s also quiet, more than Minseok.’ He suddenly hears jingles, something like water dripping and he turns towards the sound, but is met with darkness, with the quiet of the room. He squints his eyes and picks another one, ‘Jongdae, KIM. 1992.09.21 – Korean; he loves singing, he’s a tease.’ Again, jingles, like a small bell is being shook behind him but when he turns there’s nothing. Then another paper, ‘Kyungsoo, DO. 1993.01.12 – Korean; he loves singing, he’s scary, heart-shaped smile.’ And he stops and reads it again. He feels like he finally knows this person, this person rings a bell, something warms up in his chest and it’s weird, but it’s something good. He thinks that he finally is going the right way so he keeps going, he keeps reading. ‘Zitao, HUANG. 1993.05.02 – Chinese; he’s like a princess, knows martial arts, he’s scared of anything; loves Gucci.’ This one doesn’t ring a bell, but then he picks the next one and it finally does, ‘Jongin, KIM. 1994.01.14 – Korean; best dancer, best laugh.’ He reads but then he feels like someone is watching, he feels a presence behind him, and he turns his head but again is met with darkness. He frowns and turns back, and picks up the last paper he reads, ‘Sehun, OH. 1994.04.12 – Korean; he’s a brat, but we all love him anyway.’  

“Who are they?” He questions himself, but no one answers, because he is of course alone. So he looks at them again, and then he notices there’s an order, that they are arranged by age, descending. He feels like something is missing, like there’s more to these notes that he sees. But he can’t pin it down, if he thinks too much his head might hurt and he doesn’t want that.

He puts them back and flips the first page, meeting a different style of writing than the ones on the notes. And he is confused again. He looks at the beautifully written calligraphy, he looks at how beautifully each word is written and fits just right in the page, on its place, like it was meant to be there and nowhere else. So he tries to read,

‘entry 01;

                I’ve never done this before. Am I doing it right? Is this how it goes? I’m not sure of what I’m doing either but I feel like this is how it works. Its 2012, winter. No, let me be clearer, it’s 2012, December, 22nd. I’m going to my winter camp and I don’t know why I came.

                It’s cold, and this winter seems worse than the others. The snow is falling heavily, and everyone around seems to like it, but why is it that I feel like I hate it? I think it’s pretty, but I don’t feel like it’s that special. It’s just snow anyway. I came here and yet everyone seems rather plain, or too focused with their own group of friends, not really caring about the ones who actually hope to make some friends.

                I hope tomorrow gets better, if today will be no good. I want to play outside and see for myself why is snow special why is everyone so excited, why am I feeling down when Christmas is around the corner. Am I lonely?’

 

 

Chanyeol looks at it, reads it but doesn’t understand. He thinks for a moment. What day was today? He can’t remember. Who wrote this? He can’t think. Is this his handwriting? He doesn’t know. He can’t think clearly. So he stops. He flips the pages back, he closes the book, he shuts his emotions off and just stops.

He puts it away, pushes it almost until it reaches a corner and yet it doesn’t fall off the desk. He looks at the rose again, and he hears the jingles. He sighs, thinking he’s really losing it now, because no one was there, he was alone, so where do the jingles come from. He takes the rose in his hand, carefully not to break it and then he looks at it. Tries a bit too hard to think what it was and before he knows it a petal falls from its head and he catches it. He brings the rose to his lips unconsciously and without even thinking, almost as if it was natural he kisses it.

It’s cold, the rose was frozen, and yet it didn’t have any ice on it, so maybe it wasn’t really frozen. He turns it around, keeping the rose to his lips but then the sweet scent fades, the petals start to fall one by one. He looks at them how they touch the desk, how they slip between his fingers, and he starts shaking.  He can’t even smell a faint scent of anything anymore, and he’s suddenly scared. His hand starts shaking, and his whole body follows. He feels cold, he feels as if he’s outside laying in the snow. He puts the rose down, and he stops again. He tries to steady himself, but fails.

Chanyeol is cold, the room feels like a freezer, and he wants to warm himself up. He looks behind at the fireplace that doesn’t burn and can’t remember when it stopped burning. He picks himself up again, on wobbly legs he tries to steady himself. He takes the matchbox in his frozen hands and as he makes his way towards the chimney, he opens the matchbox and takes out a match. He gets in front of the chimney and sits down, putting his right knee down before the left one follows and his whole body is facing the fireplace.

His hands fall to rest on his knees as he takes a deep breath because lately it was hard to even move around the room. He stops to breath for a while before he raises the matchbox, with the first match in hand and scratches the tip on the edge of the box. The first time it doesn’t work so he tries again, and the tip lets out a spark before fire slowly starts spreading and the whole tip is lit up. He bends to light the fireplace, but he stares at the flame too much, he’s mesmerized of the way the fire burns the wood between his fingers, he keeps his eyes on it and then the fire stops.

He’s confused so he tries to blow it out and he takes a small breath and lets it out, but the fire doesn’t fade. He tries again and nothing. He thinks this is a prank, he doesn’t understand again, so he looks around, but something is rather odd. He doesn’t think this is his room. He doesn’t remember a wardrobe to be there, he can’t remember an armchair next to it full with clothes that seem smaller. He gets up, throws the match in the chimney and he’s scared of how easily he picked himself up. He looks around more carefully and realizes that nothing is where it should be, so he thinks of the last thing he remembers from today. The window. He turns on his heel and makes way to the window, only that there’s no window there, it’s a balcony. He raises his hand and it doesn’t shake, he looks at his legs and they seem to have more muscle on them. He’s confused, so instead of opening the balcony he looks at his reflection and he notices that there’s something off. His hair is curly, a brownish gold color, his cheeks puffy and his limbs slim but with a bit of muscle on them. He’s wearing plaid with black ripped jeans and he doesn’t remember when he put that outfit on, he tries to smile and looking at himself it seems genuine. He’s scared. He can’t understand. But he doesn’t want to, so he just opens the door to the balcony and he looks outside. Snow doesn’t fall, because it stopped already. He feels like it snowed earlier, he thinks he has seen it, but now it stopped. He takes a step out and looks closely, more focused on what’s in front of him and then he sees it. The other tower is in his full glory, golden bricks shape the building, making it seems strong, making the fortress look great again. He sees the lights outside and thinks that this is rather familiar, that this scene right here is something all too known to him and then he turns around, thinking he hears jingles but it wasn’t bells jingling he heard, it was a laughter.  A soft chuckle and then he feels his hands warm, as if there was someone holding his hand. He doesn’t move, he can’t move, he’s grounded, but he feels warm. Outside is covered in a white blanket, the black tower he once knew was great again and even if he can’t understand anything he feels his hands warm and he smiles.

Chanyeol smiles, because he knows. This time he really lost it.

 

2016, December, 22^nd

Chanyeol wakes up with a heavy headache, and a pain in his lower back. He opens his eyes and looking at the fireplace that still burned next to him he felt cold, even if the fire burned bright in the room, filling the air with warmth but his bones were still frozen. He doesn’t even bother to look at the clock as he tries to pick himself up and goes straight for the bathroom. Limping until the door he opens it and the darkness he expected to welcome him, wasn’t there. He was welcomed with silver and blue lights, lighting the corridor and pine tree smell filling the air. He scrunches his nose and figures the maids must have done this yesterday, since he remembered that he at least told them to go home for Christmas.

He lets the door to his room open and stepping out on the corridor he takes it all in, the way the whole floor looked like someone actually lived in the house and he wasn’t just a corpse ready to die any time soon. He takes small steps and follows the blue line until he reaches the door to the bathroom. There was a small window next to it that allowed him to see the outside world, and he leans just a bit, just so he can see the window before he retreats and opening the door he enters the bathroom.

Chanyeol sees himself in the mirror that was on the wall in front of him and he closes his eyes because he just can’t look at himself anymore. His lips are almost blue, chapped and dry, his eyes stopped having a color long ago, the hope they once held, gone completely, his hair a faded shade of brown mixed with burgundy. He doesn’t remember when he dyed it, he doesn’t remember when he changed his hairstyle, but he remembers the fringe he had a few years back, when his hair had a beautiful golden brown color.

He manages to shower and clean himself up, without wincing at his reflection and avoiding his skeleton body. He throws some clothes that were on the bathroom cupboard and he doesn’t even care they were probably there for some time. He just wants to go back to his room and sleep again.  He feels tired just from taking a shower or brushing his hair. As he takes his dirty clothes in hand something falls and hits the ground. He takes a step back so he can see the thing and notices the small box laying on the floor.

“You again?” Chanyeol asks but no one answers. “I thought I let you in the room.” He adds as he bends down and picks it up. He gets dizzy and almost falls but then something is strange again. He feels a chill as he picks up the box and then he could have sworn he heard a melody from somewhere. But he shoves them off and goes back to his room and locks himself up again.

He smells cinnamon and then starts to look around for the smell and the more he looks the more nothing appears and he begins to think he is dreaming. Was he really losing it like this? Chanyeol thinks for a moment that something is wrong, that this is happening to fast but then he hears the matches in the box jiggle and the melody fills the room again. It’s faint, it’s barely audible but it’s clearly there. He ignores it and sits down on the couch, looking at the empty mug laying on the floor and deciding to pick it up he wishes it was full again.

The fireplace sound fills the room again, and he stares into nothingness as he thinks about what the diary from yesterday is but the more he thinks the more it hurts and the more loud the melody gets. So he stops and tunes it down, he wants this to stop, he needs this madness to stop, but he can’t make it stop. Nothing helps. He searches for the guitar he remembers somehow that laid next to the couch and finding it he takes it in his lap.

“Can I still play this?” He talks with himself again, “Will you keep me company again?”

He hits the cords that were clearly out of tune but he keeps touching them and pinching them and before he knows it, the melody he heard earlier comes back again and catching the tune of it he plays along. He keeps singing but the more he struggles to hit the notes right, the more he feels his body cold and by the time he can’t take it anymore, the fireplace is not burning anymore.

He squints his eyes and looking at the match box in front of him he pushes the guitar off his lap and taking the box he bends down until he is kneeing in front of the chimney and with the box in his hand he slides the small compartment and taking a match out he looks at it. He feels like he should not lit it up, he feels like something might happen but then he thinks that it’s just a match anyway. He scratches the top and the match lights up.

Chanyeol looks at the fire burning between his fingers and he is trapped in its light again.

Suddenly he feels eyes on him, he feels warm inside, a warmth that he hasn’t felt in a while and when he throws the match into the chimney and waits for the fire to burn again he hears the wind howling at his windows, he feels the warmth inside his chest burn and the strong smell of cinnamon fills the air.

‘I’m reaching out to you

Can you hear my call?’

 

Chanyeol hears the melody, but the voice that sings the words seems so familiar. He goes back to the couch, picks his guitar up and starts to follow the song again. He starts to pick up the notes one by one and before he knows he is singing along with the voice that echoes the room.

 

‘Can I lay by your side, next to you, you

And make sure you’re alright

I’ll take care of you

And I don’t wanna be here if I can’t be with you tonight’

 

He sings and it feels so familiar that every single note reminds him of something and he keeps going; he keeps going because he feels like this is something he should remember, he feels like this is important. The voice he hears is sweet and smooth, the guitar instrumental that accompanies it doesn’t seem like his out of tune guitar, but he follows along. He tries to sing along, his broken voice trying to follow the lyrics and he feels weak, he feels tired but he keeps going.

 

‘Lay me down tonight, lay me by your side

Lay me down tonight, lay me by your side

Can I lay by your side, next to you, you-ou

And make sure you’re alright

I’ll take care of you

And I don’t wanna be here if I can’t be with you tonight’

 

Chanyeol suddenly feels something different, a warmth circles his shoulders and he feels something heavy resting on his bones. He thinks its fatigue, but it’s not. Chanyeol feels the warmth of someone; Chanyeol remembers the medley of Christmas while he remembers the warmth of a petite body lying next to him.

2012, December, 22^nd

It’s been a too tiring ride and he already felt sleepy since watching shows all night seemed like a good idea to calm his excitement. Baekhyun finally arrived at the winter camp. The morning was cold, snow covered everything, the cabin’s roofs, the porches and even the pine trees surrounding them. The lights had big colored bulbs and half of them were piling up snow.

He was ushered fast inside, grabbing his luggage and following the others. When the door opened, he could hear chattering and laughing. Some students got there early, probably their seniors, or someone from another school, since this was pretty much a mixed camp with students that had the highest grades. It was warm inside, the fireplace lit up, the smell of oranges, sweet candies and pine filling the space. Baekhyun looked around for a place to sit, finding one just right in front of a tree that wasn’t decorated yet; he figured they will probably do it later, with everyone present.

“This cabin, like the other cabins from the compound, has six rooms, therefore twelve people can live in one. You have a kitchen and a shared bathroom.” The teacher instructed, and Baekhyun was a bit amazed. From outside the cabin looked rather small, but who was he to judge, at least he was going to make some new friends for Christmas.

“Do we get to choose our roommates at least?” Someone raised his hand while asking, and the teacher almost raised his eyebrow. Seems like they were not that lucky, Baekhyun thought.

“The roommates will be chosen with a draw, since this is also a way to make new friends, we thought it would be nice for students from different schools to mix up and get to know each other better.” She said with a smile and then she turned around and went for a table that was next to the door and getting a hat from her purse she came back while shaking the hat. Baekhyun actually taught the idea was good, he hasn’t done this in a while. It seemed childish but it was a nice way of mixing everyone up.

“Each one of you will draw numbers, and I have a list with the pairs and the cabins each numbers stay in, so please come and draw your numbers.” She finished while still smiling at them. Baekhyun watched how one after another got up and went towards her, slid their hand in the hat, took out a small folded paper and came back to their place. Soon it was his turn to go there.

Baekhyun counted the people until it was his turn and when it came, he got up, dusted his knees and taking small steps so he doesn’t step on someone else that laid on the floor. He carefully slipped his hand into the hat and shacking it a bit he stopped and picked a paper, taking it out and smiling he held it in his small fist and went back to his place. He sat down before opening his fist and taking the white square between his skinny fingers and opened it. He looked at it and he read ‘04’. He wondered then who he was going to get. Maybe he would get the ‘05’ one, or maybe ‘40’. He didn’t even know, but he was already excited to meet his roommate.

“Okay, so now that everyone has a number, let’s mix you all up.” She said after everyone picked a number and was back at their seat. She put the hat down next to her feet and taking out a folded A4 paper, she began explaining. “There are a total of 100 students in this trip. We don’t expect you all to be friends, but we expect you to at least get along with your roommates since you are going to be here for the whole week. The numbers are really jumbled up and probably they don’t really have a pattern. We just chose them randomly, so I will start reading so please after you hear your number try to find your partner and go with one of the teachers to your assigned cabin.” She said before pausing to see if everyone understood. When she was certain they all got it and they all quieted down she went on. “Ok, I will start calling each pair and their assigned cabin, so please pay attention. I will start with cabin 1 and go on until the last cabin 9.”

Baekhyun lost his focus from the start and he could only catch the last two cabins, but luckily he wasn’t called until cabin number 8 so logically 9 was the cabin he was in. Now he only needed to pay attention to his roommate number.

“Cabin 9, the numbers go like this. Number ‘00’ and ‘68’, room 1. Number ‘01’ and ‘94’ room 2. Number ‘04’ and ‘61’ room 3. Number ‘07’ and ‘10’ room 4. Number ‘12’ and ‘88’ room 5. Number ‘21’ and ‘99’ room 6. The teacher in charge is me, so please stay here because this is cabin number 9.” She said and Baekhyun didn’t care much because he was already stretching his neck looking for number ‘61’.

He was nowhere in sight, he was looking left and right and then someone shadowed over him and he looked up at the giant that seemed to fall over every minute now.

“Are you the number ‘04’?” He asked and somehow Baekhyun smelled cinnamon coming from him as he got up on his two feet nodding his head. “Good, I’m ‘61’, but please don’t call me ‘61’.” He said chuckling and his golden brown perm shook along with him.

“I wasn’t planning to,” Baekhyun said smiling at him and stretching his hand he said softly, “I’m Byun Baekhyun, nice to meet you roomie.”

“Park Chanyeol,” he said giving Baekhyun a smile that literally split his face in two and his fringe almost moved from around his years and forehead, but maybe Baekhyun was seeing things. “Nice to meet you too!”

They fell into silence as they grabbed their luggage and climbed up the stairs to their room. Baekhyun looked a bit behind and scanned a room to see the others that he was sharing the cabin with for the week, noticing everyone was a boy. Well he pretty much figured there won’t be any mixed cabins but at least he could walk around half in case he forgets something and not hear screaming.

Baekhyun reached the front door of his room and opened it hearing the screeching noise it made before it stopped to show the room. It was rather plain, a nightstand next to a pair of beds that were right next to each other, probably at an arm’s length. A small carpet in the middle of the room, then two wardrobes on the wall that faced the beds and a small window next to a balcony door. It wasn’t anything fancy like his home, but he liked it even if it seemed simple. He kind of wanted to know how it was to sleep with someone in such a small room. It was a first for him to have to sleep in such a small space, given the fact that all his friends have big mansions and luxurious rooms.

And then there was the giant that entered the room right after him and threw his suitcase down next to the bed that was the closest to the balcony and he only stared. He had to be at least 180 centimeters and could probably throw Baekhyun out of the window if he said something to anger him. But then he saw how he dropped almost everything he put his hands on, hit himself in a corner and was now jumping around in one leg and he couldn’t help but crack up at him. He was just like a small child and Baekhyun hasn’t seen such a big human act like this.

“Which school are you from?” Chanyeol asked once he stopped jumping around and finished unpacking. “I’m from Korean National University of Arts. Majoring music.”

“Oh, I am majoring in literature. I liked writing at some point and decided to stick with it.” Baekhyun said, and he thought it was rather cool that Chanyeol was majoring in music. Maybe he would sing something later on, noticing the guitar case leaning on the wall. “I’m at Yonsei University. Korean Literature and Language major.”

“Then, do you want to become a writer? Or a teacher?” Chanyeol asked as he sat down on the bed, supporting himself on his palms and faced Baekhyun, watching carefully how he moved. “Because I dream of becoming a composer, or a singer, but I’m not sure I will be a singer with my voice. Maybe I can rap.” He went on chuckling at his words and making Baekhyun smile.

“I’m sure you can sing,” Baekhyun said, him too, siting down in front of Chanyeol. “Why don’t we sing something together?” he suggested and Chanyeol almost lit up like the a kid you give candy, nodding his head and Baekhyun saw that golden brown fringe shake again and a piece of him melted once more. “But not now, I need to unpack.”

“Then tonight,” Chanyeol said, sounding as if he wanted to make a deal, “after everyone goes to sleep, let’s sing in front of that fireplace from the lobby.”

“Oh, that’s a good idea! And let’s make hot cocoa!” Baekhyun said, clapping his hands together and looking up.

“Then that’s settled!” Chanyeol said, before picking himself up and going towards the door. “I’m going to take a shower, see you later, roomie.” He added as he waved at Baekhyun and left the room. Baekhyun smiled at himself and began unpacking.

Night came rather fast, the dark settling as usual, early, and soon Baekhyun lost himself with meeting the others, and talking some more with Chanyeol. They all came out from their rooms at a certain point, introduced themselves and then went back to their rooms, but some stayed behind for some talking. Baekhyun learned rather fast things about the others too; Kyungsoo loved cooking, and was also very good at it, but even so picked music as his major. He then found out that Chanyeol and Kyungsoo had the same major and went to the same university. Funny thing was that neither of them was aware of it.  Jongin, Kyungsoo roommate was majoring in arts with Sehun, at the same university as Chanyeol and Kyungsoo, but a different major department; more specifically dance. Yixing was a dance major too, but he was from China, along with Tao, who majored in martial arts at Beijing Sports University. There were more Chinese students too, Luhan that went to RUC University Athletic Teams, and Kris that loved drawing, aspired to be an artist and went to major in architecture at Tsinghua University.

“Wow!” Chanyeol exclaimed, “Everyone is doing such interesting things, but it seems like the arts is the common field. Well, except from Luhan that does football.”

“I heard someone else from around here has a music major and football major,” Baekhyun added, “They are roommates, I think numbers ‘99’ and ‘21’, Jongdae and Minseok. But they are in their room now. I met them today at lunch and we talked a bit.”

“Oh then really everyone is majoring arts,” Chanyeol said chuckling.

“I’m accounting,” Someone came in and joined their conversation. “At Seoul University.”

“Ah, Junmyeon!”  Kris said from across the table they were all sitting at, “Took you long enough to come.”

“Sorry, had some problems to solve.” Junmyeon said quietly as he scooped between Tao and Kris and sat down. “What were you all talking about thou?”

“Dreams.” Yixing said simply and everyone pretty much agreed. They all had dreams, and of course, everyone wished to see them become reality. But then Chanyeol suddenly said matter-of-factly as they were huddled up in the small kitchen and started talking about all sorts of things.

“If in this world you are not meant to have your dreams fulfilled, maybe in another universe, in another reality you will.” Chanyeol suddenly said and Baekhyun raised an eyebrow. He didn’t seem like the philosopher type, but it seems he was clearly wrong.

“You believe in the multiverse theory?” Kyungsoo asked him, and by the looks of it the subject might just turn interesting. But then Yixing excused himself, raised to his feet and emptying the seat next to Kyungsoo, he waved at them and left the room. Baekhyun figured he was tired, since he seemed like he would fall asleep any time now.

“If you think about it, it’s quite possible.” Kris added, “The universe is vast, we don’t even know how big it is, and frankly I feel like knowing would only draw a line for us to how far we can go.”

“There can be hundreds of worlds, hundreds of us, but in this universe, in this reality, we met and befriended each other.” Kyungsoo added and there was a certain glint in his eyes when he looked at Jongin laughing silently with Sehun right next to Kris, while saying it.

“You believe in fate or do you think it’s all written down and we are only struggling in vain for the same end?” Chanyeol asked then, completely changing the subject and Baekhyun started to think they were going towards way too complicated stories and theories, but he found it more interesting than talking about girls or boys, if any of them swung that way.

“Fate is written.” Tao said, finally joining the conversation. “You can’t change it, no matter how much you struggle, the outcome is the same.”

“How do you know that?” Kris asked then, sounding rather authoritarian, but he meant no harm. “Me being here with you was fate? Yes. But me choosing to befriend you all, to stay with you and want us to stay friends is my own will.”

“How do you know your thoughts aren’t controlled by fate? How do you know that what you feel now isn’t already written down and you’re just playing your role in this world?” Tao asked back and the discussion seemed to fire up the wrong way so when their teacher came and told them to come outside and attend the opening ceremony, Baekhyun was rather relieved.

 

They all got up, and one by one left the room and headed for outside. They should have known it would be cold but Baekhyun was smart enough to get a blanket with him and protected his body in its warm embrace.  It was exactly how he had imagined this night to be. He stepped out and looked around, there were lights sparkling everywhere, snow falling from the sky and covering the path in a beautiful rainbow rain, decorations at every single corner that were beautifully arranged to make different shapes and the crowd of people that gathered outside in the cold,  circling a big fire, talking and laughing. He somehow felt uneasy as it was his first time in a camp, and his first time without knowing anyone and meeting new people at the same time.

Before he could find a spot around the fire he realized he lost the others. He started to make his way into the crowd, looking carefully at each and every person, searching for his new friends but it was in vain. The others were all laughs and smiles but something in their eyes didn’t sparkle, even if they were looking at the fire. Baekhyun thought that maybe he should befriend others, but the more he looked around the more he didn’t seem like he would fit in any of these groups. He always thought that happiness is contagious but the people here didn’t seem to have that something to sparkle up his excitement to go and talk with them. Until he saw him. The giant was standing beside the campfire with two of his friends, Kris and Sehun, Baekhyun recognized, laughing and talking just like the others. But something about him was different. His laughter was special. Funny and addicting, drawing him in once again.

Baekhyun didn’t realize he was staring until the tall man noticed him and gave him one of his biggest smiles ever before walking towards him and Baekhyun was suddenly aware of his surroundings.

“We lost you!” Chanyeol said smiling as he was looking at him, “We are sitting there, but we lost some more of us on the way here.”

“Too many people,” Baekhyun said as he followed Chanyeol to where Kris and Sehun sat.

 

The opening ceremony started soon after, the teachers instructing them the rules and giving them small papers with what they will do this week. But really, the only thing Baekhyun heard was that they were going to decorate the tree from their cabin and that they were allowed to do it how they please. But then as the teachers went on with their talk and boring stories, he noticed how Chanyeol started to fool around the fire and his heart started to pick a pace.

‘’You really should stop playing with fire.’’ Baekhyun told Chanyeol as he watched the said male get dangerously close to the fire, picking a wood stick, waving it around and telling them a story that should be scary, but was in fact a funny one. “You might get burned.”

‘’We’re always telling him not to, but he simply won’t listen.’’ Someone suddenly came to join them and Baekhyun recognized the man as being Jongdae, and right behind was Kyungsoo with Minseok. Chanyeol and Jongdae were in fact in the same class, and now that they realized Kyungsoo, Jongin and Sehun were also from the same university they promised to meet up and find some free time in their busy schedules.

‘’You’re just jealous that I never got burned until now and you did.’’ Chanyeol laughed, receiving soon after a smack on the head from Jongdae and Kris only laughed in the background.

Chanyeol kept playing and goofing around and soon enough Baekhyun followed suit, and before they knew it they were all laughing and everyone joined them. The whole cabin number 9 was laughing and bonding and Baekhyun felt his body warm up and smiled at himself because maybe he finally found friends that don’t make him feel like he’s just another rich boy in a big mansion.

The cold started to bit their bones and when the second snowfall that night started to fall harder, they decided they better go inside and start making the Christmas tree. They got in, one by one filling the space, and noticing the big boxes next to the tree they all started walking around the cabin, each one trying to do something to help. Kyungsoo decided to take the kitchen and cook something for later when they are done. Some of them decided to play some carols and Chanyeol jumped right into opening the boxes full of ornaments.

Baekhyun watched how he opened them one by one, each filled with Christmas baubles, painted with different models and glitter, all blue and silver. Another one had all these small crafted angels and reindeers, another was filled with Christmas lights, matching the baubles and the last one was full of blue and silver tinsels. Chanyeol began taking baubles and placing them on branches, nicely and carefully so they won’t break. Jongdae somehow decided to untangle the lights but in the process got himself stuck in a tinsel and as cute as he was Minseok helped him get out of it and before they knew it they were playing with the tinsel and laughing. Baekhyun thought it was cute, but then he stopped, because they were just friends and he shouldn’t see them like that. But the more he watched them the more he smiled.

Jongdae began to pick up tinsels and dressed the tree but then Minseok took another tinsel and would dress Jongdae with it and he would smile right back at him, smack his shoulder and kept dressing the tree. On the other side, Kris was helping Tao with untangling the lights that Jongdae abandoned and the more Tao pouted the more Kris chuckled. It was peaceful and Baekhyun found himself smiling. Yixing went in the kitchen with Junmyeon to help out and Jongin just stayed with Sehun and Luhan while played on their phones, before Kyungsoo came and scolded them, resulting in them picking themselves up and going to help with the tree.

Baekhyun found some spray cans that were supposed to be ‘snow’ and picking a side of the tree he shook the bottle in his hand and then started spraying the branches where he thought it would look nice. He soon filled the whole thing and while he was admiring his work someone came and spoke from behind.

‘’What are you doing?’’ Chanyeol blinked at the small one, only to receive a beautiful smile in return.

‘’I’m making it look like we brought it from outside and it’s full of snow.’’ Baekhyun answered, and by the looks of it, the more you looked at the tree the more it seemed like real snow piled up on those branches.

‘’Seems like you can’t reach the top very well.’’ Chanyeol said looking at the top of the tree and noticing the lack of white patches. “Here, let me help you out,” he said and before Baekhyun could ask what he meant by that he felt a pair of arms on his waist and soon his feet left the ground and Baekhyun trying to control his heart that seemed to beat faster all of a sudden, stretched his hand and started to spray the top too. But then he couldn’t reach the other side and Chanyeol’ hands started trembling, so Chanyeol thought it was better to just step a bit aside from the tree.

“I still have the other side. Rise me again.” Baekhyun said before he would let his embarrassment kick in. Chanyeol chuckled and this time changed his plan. He put a knee down and beckoned for Baekhyun to climb on his shoulders he sat there as skinny legs fell next to his neck and soon a hand was grabbing his golden brown locks a bit too hard before he raised to his feet and they were stable, with Baekhyun up high on Chanyeol’ shoulders.

Baekhyun stretched his arm again and reaching for the tree even better now he sprinkled the fake snow everywhere, making the tree even more pretty. They didn’t notice the others staring at them, until Sehun came and said something like, “Why is everyone looking like a couple around here?” and they all stopped for a moment to realize that the brat was actually right and they all enjoyed this simple activity a bit too much.

‘’Ok I’m done.” Baekhyun said, tapping the top of his head and trying not to think about what Sehun said, “You can put me down.’’

After Minseok managed to take the tinsels off from Jongdae and actually put them on the tree, and Tao managed to untangle the lights with Kris, they managed to finish the tree and soon a sweet smell came from the kitchen and Baekhyun figured that Kyungsoo probably cooked cookies. They grabbed the lights and finished circling the tree and plugging them in, Jongin turned the lights off and then pressing the button the whole tree lit up with white and blue lights. The tinsel and lights made it look surreal, warming their hearts somehow as they looked at it.

They started to chat around the Christmas tree again, each of them sharing their last Christmases and as they kept talking and the night turned darker and darker, Yixing fell asleep leaning on the couch, Sehun fell asleep on Junmyeon’s shoulder hugging a pillow and Jongin didn’t look like he could keep his eyes open for long.

“I think we forgot something,” Chanyeol said as he eyed the big silver star on the table that was supposed to go on top of the Christmas tree. They were so caught up in their conversations they forgot about it and Chanyeol seemed to be the only one to notice. “The tree doesn’t have the most important thing.”

“The star on top!” Baekhyun exclaimed when he realized, what he was talking about it.

“Who wants to put it then?” Kris asked once he saw Chanyeol taking the star in his hand and searching for someone willing to put it on top. Baekhyun thought for a moment and he decided he wanted to put it, since he noticed that everyone else was pretty much too sleepy and might drop it in the process and they sure didn’t want to break anything that wasn’t theirs.

“May I?’’ Baekhyun turned around, looking at the star and then at Chanyeol. The giant smiled and nodded before Baekhyun reached out for the star, took it and walked to the Christmas tree. Tiptoeing, he tried to put it on top, forgetting for a moment that he couldn’t reach it, not even by jumping. Chuckling at the cuteness of his actions, Chanyeol walked behind him before taking him by the waist again and raising him up until he reached the top and placed the star carefully on top of the tree.

“There, all done now.” Junmyeon said as he moved a bit and taking in the way Sehun slept on his shoulder he smiled and patting his cheek he woke up the younger and squinting his eyes he mumbled something that only made Junmyeon smile more before getting off from the couch and taking his hand they bid their goodbyes for the night and retreated to their room.

“I think we will go too,” Kyungsoo said looking at Jongin that was now sleeping while sitting down, his head hung forth and small snores coming out from his lips, “Jongin is pretty much sleeping now, by the looks of it.”

Minseok and Jongdae followed after, retreating back to their room while bidding their goodbyes too.  No more than 30 minutes passed and the rest were gone too, leaving Baekhyun and Chanyeol alone. Surprisingly they were not sleepy yet so they sat in silence as they finished the last pieces of cookies Kyungsoo made.

“Come here for a little bit.”  Chanyeol said as he sat down on the couch, looking at the fireplace.

‘’What do you want to do?’’ Baekhyun asked as he made his way towards the couch, sitting down beside his roommate.

“This,” Chanyeol said as he took his guitar and smiled at Baekhyun, “Our promise from this morning.”

Hearing those words, Baekhyun felt how his cheeks lit up, a sudden warmth creeping in again and he was pretty sure it wasn’t the fireplace he was standing in front of. Nodding slowly, he waited and watched for Chanyeol to tune his guitar a little bit and to test a few cords before he looked at Baekhyun and asked, “So what song shall I sing?”

Baekhyun looked in his eyes and noticed a small sparkle in them. He stopped and stared for a while, thinking of a song, but losing himself in those eyes. They stared right back, waiting for something, telling him something but Baekhyun couldn’t decipher what it was. Was it happiness? Was it fondness? Was it yearning? He didn’t know, he couldn’t pin it down, and he didn’t want to know either; he was too mesmerized.

“Well I always wanted to try ‘Lay me down’ by Sam Smith. Think it can work?” Baekhyun and in that moment Chanyeol beamed with a grin that grew wider the more he looked at it.  Chanyeol slowly starting to touch the cords, filling the room with a beautiful melody, as he closed his eyes and let everything sink in. The petite started humming at first, trying to pick up the pace of the song, before slowly turning the humming into words and they soon formed a beautiful harmony of notes and words.  

 

‘Lay me down tonight, lay me by your side

Lay me down tonight, lay me by your side

Can I lay by your side, next to you, you-ou

And make sure you’re alright

I’ll take care of you

And I don’t wanna be here if I can’t be here with you tonight.’

 

The fireplace burned bright, the Christmas tree lights singing a simple medley in the background and them singing to their heart contempt and falling slowly into each other. It was special, it was simple, it felt like home. Baekhyun felt like he could do this forever, he felt like he could sing forever next to him, because the more they sang the more his heart beat and by the time the song was over they were looking at each other and in that moment they both felt it.

The bliss that came after one day, the rollercoaster of emotions and most of all, the span of twenty hours they stood by each other’s side. Like fresh plates and clean slates, the future was white. They felt it all and they felt the warmth take their souls and never let go. If the universe wanted them to meet, if fate wrote down that they should meet here and become friends like this, then it was okay to have it all written down. Because no matter how much Baekhyun would struggle, he would still end up with Chanyeol by his side.