o2; Stranger
Kiss of an Angel
I've been a bad author. I've been AWOL for a very long time and I feel bad for those amazing people who subscribed to my stories! I just paused from writing for a while to read a bunch of books lol, in hopes of improving my writing skills. Well, now I am back and I will do my best to write regularly! :). I know I started this story nearly a year ago! Wow, I'm sorry for the extreme lateness. I heart you amazing people! <3
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DECEMBER 2005
The sudden tingling sensation surging at the back of my neck has dominated my emotions. It feels like I’m losing control of my own body. He’s here… But who is he? I scanned through the mass of Christmas-shoppers crowding the streets, as my heart beats rapidly against my ribcage, threatening to burst. Whether it was nerves or something else completely, I couldn’t tell. At this very moment, all I know is the puzzling presence that is calling out to me wordlessly.
I relentlessly skimmed through the throng of bodies until my eyes landed on a pair of mystifying black orbs staring directly back at me. It was a young man that owned the set of dark eyes, the colour of mystery, that bores into mine; no top, no footwear, no nothing apart from the white slacks that hung from his hip down to his ankle and the mysterious aura he carried around him. His expression reflects the same confusion sketched on mine. And suddenly, everything around me blurred out and became distant, as if nothing mattered apart from me and him.
Hyung..
Despite his peculiar choice of clothing - or the lack thereof - there was something mesmerizing about the man. Is it the way the sun reflects on his skin that he’s almost glowing, or how his stare seems to make me motionless? Or maybe it’s just my lack of sleep.
Hyung?
Nevertheless, it isn’t the obscurity surrounding his presence that draws me to him but the unfathomable familiarity that muddles my reasoning. He’s like a recurring dream that I forget once I open my eyes, or a distant memory locked away at the back of my mind in which every path of accessing it is clogged up by thick heavy fog. Where have I seen him?
My thoughts were interrupted when his confused expression turned into a jumble of other emotions: realization, worry, recognition, and adoration. And finally, the corner of his lips curved up so subtly that it’s hardly recognisable.
But there it is, a smile.
And I temporarily forgot how to breathe. Everything became hazy, until all I could hear was the rapid beating of my heart. I mustered all my strength to lift the corner of my lips into something that hopefully resembles a smile.
Hyung!
You have lost your mind.
“LUHAN!”
I snapped out of my train of thoughts. I turned my head to the source of voice that I know so well. “Sehun?”
He examined me through scrutinising eyes, “Tell me honestly, do you do drugs?”
“Wh-what?” That’s when my senses came back. I was downtown with Sehun to look for new football boots, which explains why we’re standing in front of a window display of some cheap sport shop.
“You just turned around and started smiling weirdly,” he shrugged and browsed through the displays, “Your sanity level just dropped to your toe.”
“I-”
“Okay, I want that!” he exclaimed, before I could explain, as he grabbed my arm and dragged me inside the shop.
I turned my head hastily to where the man stood, but only saw masses of bodies rushing across the busy street. I checked around anxiously and there was nothing. There were no signs of him as if he wasn’t there in the first place.
The surging sensation at the back of my neck has disappeared together with the man. And somehow, it made me feel hollow and empty inside.
JANUARY 2006
“Do you understand now, the weight of your grave mistake?”
Chanyeol. It‘s rather difficult to not recognise the deep voice that doesn’t match his youthful exterior. Kris could feel the intensity of Chanyeol’s iridescent white wings through the wind, as he moves closer to where Kris stood. Positioning himself at the vacant spot next to Kris, Chanyeol gave the pitiful man a comforting pat.
Chanyeol is in the higher level of the hierarchy, compared to Kris; henceforth he is more knowledgeable, compared to Kris.
“It’s unfair.” Kris sighs, turning his head to avoid Chanyeol’s sympathetic eyes.
“It is, hence why it’s forbidden, brother,” answered Chanyeol softly, to comfort, even in the slightest bit, his unfortunate brother. “Direct contact with humans has always been prohibited, unless it’s your duty of course. And clearly, it wasn’t yours. A touch of an Angel’s lips upon a mortal, whether intense or feather light, will connect the two together. ”
“I’d rather be punished, the heaviest punishment that heavens can enforce ” Kris stood up and walked to the other side of the rooftop, resting his arms on the railings. The lights from the houses below look like a cluster of glitters, under the darkness of the night. But, however scenic it looks, it doesn’t console the troubled Angel.
“Well, you see, there’s no need for any punishment because the kiss, itself is a punishment enough. That one simple kiss, will make you love and long for that one person for eternity. It won’t waver or lessen in time, it can only increase.” Chanyeol walked to stand beside Kris, “That is enough torture, don‘t you think?”
“Does he feel the same?” Kris finally faces Chanyeol, hopelessness visible in his set of dark eyes. “Does he feel the same amount of yearning that I feel for him every second of the day?”
“Yes,” Chanyeol looks away this time. “. . . and no.”
“He feels exactly the same as you do when you’re there around him. But when you’re gone, either up in the clouds or in heaven, the feeling slowly fades and your existence in his life will feel just like a vivid dream.” Chanyeol paused and looked back at Kris who wears a stoic façade, but he knows the boy could break with a light touch. “He won’t be able to tell whether you’re real or just a mere imagination.” He continued softly and carefully.
Kris was loss for words. He didn’t know how to respond, or whether he should. He kept his composure, to mask any hint of the turmoil inside him that was eating any coherent thoughts in his mind.
SEPTEMBER 2008
I sat slumped against the cold brick wall of a narrow alley next to school. My uniform smeared with patches of my own blood and dirt, as my body lay limp and numb.
“Where‘s the money, douche?” the hoarse and mocking voice of Jongmin, a classmate twice my size barks at me while rummaging through my moneyless bag. “Why don‘t you pray to your dead father for some money?” Jongmin snarled hatefully, as his other 2 accomplices laughs tauntingly at me. I can’t stand people who uses the death of my father as a weapon against me. I would have thrown a punch on his growling face if I had any energy to move.
Since my father died 2 months ago, I had become an introvert, enjoying my own company rather than socialising with others - apart from Sehun. My lack of retaliation is the very reason why I became the easy target for bullies. I am very much aware that this personality is going to get me killed one way or another, but somehow, death doesn’t seem so scary to me anymore. Not when I know my father will be at the other side to greet me.
My bag gets thrown across the alley as Jongmin snarls irritably seeing that there is nothing for him. I close my eyes and waited for the next blow of punches that awaits me. But instead, I felt warmth and protected as something – or someone – shields my figure. Then there is silence.
I kept my eyes close, scared that the safety I feel may fade once I open it. Although it felt like minutes, it was probably a few seconds before the warmth left me, and cautiously, I opened my eyes slowly.
There is no Jongmin, nor his two posse. I am faced by a man’s , stood just a few metres away from me.
“Who are you?” I managed to voice out with much difficulty. My face is badly beaten that it’s almost impossible to move a muscle, let alone speak. There is something intriguing by the way the stranger’s shoulders were slumped and his head looking down. It’s like I can almost feel the melancholy emanating from his posture, and the more I stare, the more I feel like the figure isn’t a stranger after all. It was starting to look and feel awfully familiar but I can’t pinpoint where, who, or how.
The man slowly turns around, and as soon as I caught a glimpse of his dark mysterious eyes, I held my breath.
I can see the man clearly despite the difficulty of focusing my sight. I was captivated by the eyes that held so much emotion; but what stuns me the most is the striking sadness in them as it stares deeply back at me.
“I know you,” I whispered. Although I’m not sure who it is, I am certain that I know the man.
He crouches in front of me, his gaze not leaving mine. “I’ve seen you,” I paused, searching for answers in his eyes, “…in my dreams.”
The man lifts his hand slowly and cupped my bruised cheek gently. At the feel of the stranger’s warm touch, I close my eyes and leans my head towards his hand. All of my worries are momentarily forgotten and for the first time in a long time, there was serenity and a sense of comfort.
“Kris…” I whispered weakly. I remember. The man who keeps appearing and disappearing in my life. I remember him clearly now. Unknowingly, tears escape from the corners of my eyes.
Kris wipes the falling tears while caressing my cheek with his thumb lovingly. “I’m sorry.”
I smile at the sound of his voice. It’s low, full of emotion, and soothing.
He lifts my head, gently leans it towards his chest and wraps his arms around me protectively. “You’re safe now,” he kissed the top of my head, and I let go of every emotion I kept clogged up inside me. There in his arms, I sobbed a year’s worth of tears and pain.
“Don’t leave me again; I don’t think I’ll be able to hold on.”
“I’m always here.”
With that, I wrap my arms around his waist tightly.
“I love you,” I murmur softly. I wasn’t sure why I said it, but somehow, I knew I meant every word. I felt myself slowly drifting slightly out of consciousness.
“Luhan!” Sehun’s angry and pained cry sounded distant, followed by the sound of hurried footsteps getting nearer. Soon, my body was surrounded by his familiar warmth as I felt my self getting lifted. That as my last memory before I completely lost consciousness.
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Word Count: 1791
I just want to remind you all that this is a short story. The next chapter may probably be the last one, or second to the last. Something like that. :). I hope you enjoyed that, and write your thoughts in the comments! Thankyou! :) I'll make sure to update soon!
|| teardrops ||
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