part i.

LuHan was not the favorite child of the villagers. He was beautiful, radiant even, despite his gender, and he was the perfect son. Mothers stared at him with envy, cursing the gods for depriving them of a child as beautiful and as caring as him. Fathers questioned the gods as well, prayed angrily to them, asking that their sons be as well-rounded as LuHan, that they also learned to follow obediently, and won all the children's games, and sang songs that made the mothers swoon (at least until they remembered their envy). These jealous parents told their children to either cling on to LuHan as hard as they possibly could, or to avoid him altogether. They'd rather he were a lonely child than a social butterfly. That could pose problems for their children in the future. They wanted their children to rise to good positions on the council, and LuHan was, at the tender age of eight, already a formidable rival. The children were confused by their parents' commands, and, in the innocent manner of one no older than eight years, told him outright, "Mother told me to stay away from you," and, "Father says I shouldn't practice with you." 

Thus, LuHan was left alone.

*

LuHan liked to sing. He also liked to dance. He liked to do a lot of things, like writing, and running, and playing, and he even liked people (even if people didn't like him). Most of all, though, he liked to draw. It was the one thing his parents knew nothing about, the one thing he had not been forced to show off to the entire village, as if they didn't hate him enough.

It had been eight years since the children had pushed him away, and he felt no negative feelings towards them. One might say he felt nothing at all for these children, nothing, save for pity. They knew not of how to think on their own, their minds dictated by their parents desires. LuHan had more freedom, given that he was the perfect child he was. He realized this, of course, saw it in the way his parents pushed him to display every talent he had in every possible situation. He saw it in how the parents looked at him, as if it were his fault his children were not the same.

Many thought LuHan arrogant for all his talents and knowledge, but he was not. He only quietly accepted that, yes, he can do this, and he can do that, and others can only do this, but not that, or maybe only that, and not this. He did not like to throw it into their faces. He honestly didn't like having it thrown in his own either.

He was sixteen years old, and he was as alone as he could possibly be.

*

Every day, at exactly 1:47 in the afternoon, he would slip off into the woods behind his home. (His parents, in all their "support," had made him very particularly about certain details.) At this time in the afternoon, most of the village was in the midst of their siesta, or afternoon nap, and those who were not were busy working, and would not notice the golden boy slipping off into the woods for a few hours (until 4:26, when he could slip back right before everyone else started to wake up). 

Today, he stomped angrily, moving loudly through the woods, his backpack thumping against his back. He walked 39 paces straight into the woods, from the fourth tree to the left, coming from the fence of his backyard. Afterwards, he would find himself in front of the old oak with the letters "K + M" carved into its age-old bark. From here, he would turn right and walk 20 paces in that direction, stop at the large rock shaped like it was made to be laid upon, right in front of the fork in the road, and turn left for 23 paces. Here, he would find his clearing. Here, he would find his solace.

The clearing was shaped almost like a large apple, and it was perfect. It was surrounded by towering trees, orange and red leaves slipping from their places and unto the ground. To his left from the entrance, there was a small lake, ducks finding their way into said lake when the season was right. The lake was surrounded by rocks, perfect for LuHan to sit upon, as they never seemed to absorb the heat from the sun beating down from high in the sky. That was the best part. The trees were tall, and their branches extended out far across from one end to the other, yet, still, the sun peaked through, creating beautiful patterns on the ground, shining on the fallen leaves perfectly, causing the lake to sparkle softly. LuHan thought it was probably what heaven looked like.

He had discovered the place three days after his fellow village children had shunned him, and it took another three days for him to find and perfect the path towards the clearing. Afterwards, he always made sure to come at the same time every day, bringing his sketchbook along with him. 

His sketchbook was his tie to sanity, what kept him from losing his head when everything became too much for him. He had gotten it from one of the teenage girls in the village who worked at one of the stores. He had walked in one day to buy something for his mother, when he saw the intricate cover, decorated with sketches of faceless people, head turned in wonder, and thought, "I want to try drawing something like that." The girl (young, so young, yet her belly was obviously swollen with child) had give it to him for free, and LuHan had kept it hidden under his shirt when he came home, happy to have something that was his own, a secret.

LuHan walked through the clearing, leaves rustling against his feet, and moved towards his favorite rock. It was large, shaped almost like a throne, high above the ground, with a bit of excess at the back, shaped almost like the backrest of a chair. From his throne, LuHan didn't feel so alone. He could see the clearing perfectly, watch the sun peek through the trees without problem, look over the ducks in the lake as if they were his subjects, and, he could draw.

So, he drew. 

He drew the leaves on the ground, shading it in with only black, grey, red, and orange. Each line was thick, dark, leaving behind an impression on the page. It was shaded in even harder, the colors intense and dark, revealing the emotion the artist tried to relay. 

He had a particularly bad day today, his teacher asking him to sing up front, one of the boys tripping him on his way, and saying, "teacher's pet." Everyone laughed. The teacher denied such a thing, but it was obvious in the way she leaned towards LuHan, gave him a little bit of extra everything, and called upon him whenever the opportunity presented itself.

After he finished his first drawing, LuHan calmed down a little. He decided to draw the lake next, to capture its calmness and hopefully move the emotion into his frame. He sketched out the general curve of the lake, the rocks surrounding it from his view, the trees that towered over it, leaning over it, almost as if bowing in reverence, and the little patterns the shadows made over the general scene. He was about to shade it all in, and then he heard it. Pat pat pat. 

No one was supposed to be here, he was supposed to be alone, everyone was supposed to be asleep, it's still too early, the tiny dial on his wrist showed that it was only barely 3:13, why is there someone here, nobody should be here, nobody--

LuHan stopped.

A rabbit hopped out from behind a rock directly in front of him. 

It stopped to stare at LuHan.

LuHan stared back. 

LuHan laughed. He was being ridiculous, he was being stupid, and he was being immature. It was only a rabbit, of course. LuHan reached out behind him and pulled a snack out of his backpack. He tossed it towards the rabbit, which nibbled on it happily. The rabbit was white, pure white, save for the barely-there black rings surrounding his small, slit-like eyes. He looked bored, and sleepy. Much like LuHan looked when asked to demonstrate his talent of the week. LuHan smiled.

"I like carrots, too, you know." 

The rabbit stared.

"My friends always used to make fun of me before we stopped being friends." 

The rabbit stared.

LuHan continued to talk, and the rabbit decided to eat. 

It was surprisingly easy, talking to this rabbit, it seemed almost as if he had a friend again.

*

Following that day, the rabbit was always around. LuHan would always here the soft pat-pat-pat of his hopping at around 3:11. The rabbit wasn't usually punctual. On the fourth day of their company, LuHan touched the rabbit, rubbed behind his ears, and held him in his arms. After that, the rabbit moved directly towards LuHan, instead of cautiously staying away, waiting on the rock directly in front of LuHan's for his daily snack. LuHan brought carrots diligently. He was thankful his parents knew he liked them, because it meant less notice and fewer questions.

LuHan continued to tell the rabbit his problems. The rabbit sat in his lap the entire time. LuHan whined about the jealous parents, about his own overly-supportive-to-the-point-of-pushy parents. He talked about this new book he read, and it looked like the rabbit was listening. He sang his favorite song of the day, and it looked like the rabbit was singing and dancing along, swaying to the beat, listening to the lyrics. Then, on the twelfth day of their acquaintance, LuHan drew the rabbit, and the rabbit sat still. The entire three hours and thirty-nine minutes he spent in the forest that day, were all for that one drawing of that one rabbit, staring at him quietly in his lap. 

On that twelfth day, he named the rabbit SeHun.

(Later on, he realized, his sketch of SeHun had serious, almost human eyes. He brushed it off.)

*

On the thirty-first day of their friendship (as, that is what LuHan used to refer to their relationship at that point), LuHan was early. He came crashing into the clearing, tears streaming down his face, at 12:57 in the afternoon. His backpack was clutched in his bloody hand. SeHun wasn't here yet. LuHan did not have the energy to walk to his throne, thus, he leaned his weight against the adjacent tree, and slid down. He haphazardly pulled his backpack off his body, rummaging inside for something, careful not to touch his precious sketchbook, afraid of staining it with his blood. He pulled out the medicine kit he kept, and clumsily cleaned up his wounds on his left hand. He was angry. He was disappointed in himself, and he was angry at himself for being disappointed. He had been cooking with his mother, helping her out in the kitchen, when the thought of what he would sketch today came up into his head. He thought of placing the rabbit on his throne, and draw him angled from the ground. He smiled at the idea and dropped the glass bowl in his left hand, including all its contents. His mother screamed, his father was furious, and they all stared at him in a combination of shock and disappointment. He was their golden boy, he didn't have accidents. This was unacceptable. He had never made a mistake before, why start now? Why couldn't he just fulfill all their expectations like a good child, the like the good child they thought he was. His mother cried, thinking he was rebelling at them. He stayed silent throughout the entire conversation, anger bubbling up inside of him. He left right after they fell asleep. 

Sehun also arrived a little earlier today. He had a daisy (LuHan recognized it from one of the books at home) in his mouth. The pat-pat-pat of his hopping today was a little faster than usual in terms of tempo, and slightly louder, almost as if excited. The rabbit stopped when LuHan was not in his proper seat. It sat there, almost as if it were confused, until LuHan called to him from his place in front of the tree. 

"SeHun..."

The rabbit turned. The daisy slipped from its mouth, crushed beneath the rabbits hopping feet, until it was in LuHan's lap, LuHan's body curvived in on itself, covering the rabbit, tears slipping down his face. He felt the soft fur of the rabbit, and the warmth of his body.

LuHan whispered his sadness softly into SeHun's fur, and SeHun seemed to feel his sadness as well. LuHan thought that if he were a person, SeHun probably would've hugged him and tried to make him feel better. He internally chastised himself for thinking such ridiculous things, and continued to weep to said rabbit, unable to draw for the day due the wounds on his hand.

Hours later, LuHan told SeHun quietly that he had to leave. The rabbit, surprisingly, hopped off his lap, towards the crushed daisy, and dropped it in front of him, almost sheepishly. LuHan smiled, picked up the rabbit and hugged him to his chest.

"Thank you," he whispered.

(He kept the crushed daisy inside his sketchbook, pressed between the pages.)

*

The next day, LuHan sat back in his throne but did not draw, could not draw. He stared at the sky, whilst SeHun's fur. That day, SeHun brought him another flower, which LuHan did not recognize on sight. It was a beautiful shade of bright red, highlighted with light pink, curving upwards consistently, until spreading out towards the top. LuHan thanked SeHun, and wondered quietly what the flower was.

When he got home that day, he opened up the book of plants and flowers they had at home, and flipped through the pages until he found it. 

It was called gloxina.

*

I am a rabbit. He calls me SeHun. He is my friend, he is my best friend, he is my only friend. When he sings, everything else stops to listen. Except the trees. The trees sway to the sound. I want to dance to the beauty of his voice. It's so pretty it hurts. 

He has golden brown hair, and beautiful eyes, and he's good at everything. He likes to draw. He draws me sometimes, and I try to sit as still as possible because I don't like to bother him, and he pats my head and says that SeHun is good because SeHun didn't move and SeHun can have a carrot because of this, the good little rabbit. 

His name is LuHan, and he takes care of me, and he draws me, and he sings to me, and he talks to me. We've been together for thirty-one days, and I can't talk to him. He talks to me, but I can't talk to back. It makes me sad. Sometimes, I think it makes him said, too. I want to talk to him, too. He tells me I'm his best friend, and that he couldn't possibly live without me, and I want to tell him the same. I want to tell him he's my best friend, and I have nothing else but him.

His name is LuHan, and LuHan calls me SeHun, and SeHun wants to make LuHan understand him.

*

The following days, the rabbit arrived, surprisingly on time, with a different flower for each day. There was the yellow zinnia, with what seemed like thousands of petals spread open to the world, the multi-colored tulip, dazzling in its variegation, the scarlet geranium, blinding in the intensity of its color. There was the lavender heather, the blue hyacinth, the white iris.

LuHan had taken to bringing the large book of plants with him on his daily trips. Each flower, he kept pinned between the pages of his sketchbook.

When his hand got better, he started drawing the flowers, along with SeHun, and pressed the flower of the day in with the drawing of the day.

LuHan grew progressively happier. He thought SeHun was the same, but the rabbit's eyes said something else.

*

Does he understand? If he understands, why doesn't he say anything? Why is everything still the same? Doesn't he understand? I thought he'd understand, he's so smart, maybe I'm doing it wrong? Doesn't he understand? Does he not like it? Is he unhappy? 

*

SeHun seemed happy today. He hopped around happily, dandelion dropped in LuHan's lap. He seemed festive, jumping around, trying to coax LuHan into a game. LuHan happily hopped around with him, just to please the rabbit. 

Towards the end, the rabbit seemed to grow morose, in spite of all the hopping.

*

SeHun seems unattentive today. LuHan talks on and on and on and on, and instead of sitting quietly in his lap and staring at him, SeHun is staring off into space. He looked like he was asleep, but LuHan knew he was awake. LuHan talked about his birthday, which was coming the next day. SeHun didn't hear a thing. SeHun leaves him a balsam that day.

*

LuHan isn't here, why isn't he here? It's late. I brought him an azalea. He's usually here, why isn't he here? Did he finally understand? Did he understand, and get angry? Does he not like it? Does he not want to be with me anymore? Does this mean he won't draw me? Does this mean I won't hear his voice? Does this mean... we're not friends anymore?

*

LuHan is lonely at his own birthday party. Everyone is happy, singing, dancing, smiling, laughing, pretending they all like him because it gets them free food and a chance to bask in his presence which they all deny themselves of. They ask him to sing, several times. They call him repeatedly only to greet him (again), and to ask him to sang that one song he sang that one time (again), and he's forced to sing until his throat hurts, and he wants to cry, because he'd rather be with SeHun, in their clearing, drawing, talking, laughing, feeding SeHun bits of carrot and chewing on what he has for himself. He wanted to sing "happy birthday" to himself, and watch SeHun dance (hop) along. He wants SeHun to be here, with him, right now and always.

* 

LuHan arrives early the next day (12:49), and there is a cluster of a variety of flowers by his throne. LuHan identifies them as purple hyacinth, apple blossoms, and a flowering branch from an arbutus tree. SeHun does not come, and LuHan is left to wonder why, tears dried on his face, a sad sketch of flowers on the ground in his sketchbook, the models of which are carefully pressed between the pages.

*

SeHun does not come for the next five days.

*

LuHan stops going to the clearing. Instead, he sits on his bed, and stares blankly out the window, wondering what he did to lose his friend.
________________

definition of flowers:
DAISY: Innocence, gentleness, loyal love, I'll never tell, purity, beauty.

GLOXINA: Love at first sight.

ZINNIA, YELLOW: Daily remembrance.

TULIP, VARIEGATED: Beautiful eyes.

GERANIUM, SCARLET: Comforting, consolation.

HEATHER, LAVENDER: Admiration, solitude, beauty.

HYACINTH, BLUE: Constancy. Sincerity.

DANDELION: Faithfulness, happiness, love's oracle.

BALSAM: Ardent love.

AZALEA: Love, romance, first love, fragile passion, temperance, abundance. Take care of yourself for me. Ephemeral passion.

HYACINTH, PURPLE: I am sorry, sorrow, please forgive me.

APPLE BLOSSOMS: Good fortune, promise. Preference. Better things to come.

ARBUTUS: Thee only do I love.

____________

author's note: Again, I was not sane when I wrote this. It gets worse. This is fic vomit, and I am aware that I use SeHun as some sort of animal too much in my fics. This was not proofread, so I apologize for any mistakes! Also, please excuse the formatting, because I had/have no idea how to put in the definition of the flowers in an aesthetically pleasing manner. If you're reading this, lol you must be bored I love you, and thank you! c: