H u n H a n

The Definition of HunHan

Genre: Romance, Fluff

Rating: All ages

Word Count: 480 total

I. ....because HunHan isn't a whole, but two halves, crudely placed together, edges clashing, but fitting all the same. Maybe it takes time and tears and whispered confessions, or maybe even silence and glances that are barely missed by heartbeats, but when the sun sets and the birds stop singing, the edges are molded down, and the pieces slide snugly together, scratches and scrapes disappearing in the glow of its wholeness.

II. Maybe it's the way Luhan's eyes reflect his soul, maybe it's the way the spaces between their fingers fit together perfectly, maybe it's because their touches always linger a few seconds longer, maybe it's the way bubble tea is as sweet as their love, but Sehun thinks, as Luhan's brown locks tickle his cheek, that he wouldn't trade this for the world, and if heaven really existed, it wouldn't be as perfect as this.

III. Sehun likes Friday afterschool because it means twinkling laughter and doe eyes. It means long hours of piano practie with Luhan leaning against him, warm body soft and soothing, as his gentle voice floats along with the presses of black and white keys. It means endless conversations shaped by murmurs and eye contacts, topics trailing from Jongin's obsession for a certain large-eyed, Pororo-loving boy to Sehun's older sister's undying love for Lee Taemin. It means shy butterfly kisses on foreheads and pecks on the lips that end two seconds too soon. It means warmth and security, and it's then that Sehun feels that forever is within reach, because forever is Luhan, and eternity is Luhan and Sehun together until the tide rolls away.

IV. Luhan is weird, Sehun thinks. He's obsessed over shoujo manga and seems to read them for a living. Sehun would receive phone calls 3:45 in the morning from a sobbing Luhan telling him that Sakura-chan got rejected by Takashi-senpai in between wails. In the midst of bleary blinks and sleepy mhmm's, Sehun would doze off, but not before hearing a soft 'good night, I love you, Sehunnie" from Luhan. And at the boundary line between reality and dreams, he would smile and fall into a slumber filled with milk, luhans, and shoujo manga.

V. Sehun is strict routines, notes and schedules written in miniscule font, each letter carefully penned with military precision. He's giggles hidden behind his palm, downcast eyes, and pale cheeks. Luhan is spontaneity, crumpled notebooks filled with messy scrawls and mindless doodles in the margins. He's boisterous laughter that is contagious, eyes forever curved in sweet crescents, and lightly flushed cheeks. Sehun is a black and white color palette, and Luhan is color. Sharing a canvas, they plan a painting of fate. Sehun is planning and Luhan is chance. When Sehun meets Luhan, his schedules are tossed out the window by the angelic smile of a bright-eyed boy. Suddenly, his world is void of neutrals, tinged with every shade of the rainbow.