Chapter 39: Low-Five

It was deep night when Baekhyun came to his senses, waking with a start from vertiginous dreams. He plunged into darkness, weightless in freefall til he smashed to the ground -- his eyes flying open as he woke with a jolt. His breaths came short and shallow and his eyes fought to adjust. A shadow loomed over him and his heart leapt into his throat.

"Hey, beautiful," a low, sleepy whisper filled his head. The shadow shifted, blooming into a broad shoulder. Faint moonlight lit the edges of the blanket, the bare skin of an arm, and silvered flyaway strands of russet hair. A warm hand cupped his cheek and his eyelids drooped with its gentle heat. He leaned into it.

"Nightmare?" Chanyeol asked, thumbing his cheek.

Baekhyun nodded, eyes slipping closed. He felt Chanyeol reach around him and pull him into his arms. He was easily maneuvered, and fit neatly under Chanyeol's chin where he let out a slow breath, filling his lungs instead with the soft musk of Chanyeol's scent. Pressed close, his fingers unfurled against the guitarist's bare chest, finding his heartbeat there steady, strong, and true. It pulsed beneath his palm, something to count, something to keep. His eyes stung.

Chanyeol's hands his hair, rubbed the worry from his neck and shoulders, and safe in the cocoon of his arms, Baekhyun felt the pressure behind his eyes like a dam about to give way. A sob shuddered through him, followed by another, tears pressing past lashes to rain on Chanyeol's neck. 

"Shh," Chanyeol murmured, pressing a kiss to his crown and holding him tighter. "I've got you." He hummed something softly, then dipped his lips to his ear, whispering in a dusky murmur. "What's your favorite Phoenix Riising track?"

All of them, Baekhyun might have said at any another time. How could I choose just one? And he knew each one intimately, even those unreleased tracks which Chanyeol had shared with him over quiet nights at his flat, beaming like a proud parent. But now only one came to mind.

"I Won't Breathe," he said softly. Every word of it rent his flesh and laid him bare. He remembered hearing it the very first time he had seen them perform, and its haunting lyrics had embraced him, made him yearn to be found.

Chanyeol didn't ask. He pulled Baekhyun closer and began to hum its melody. Eventually breathy notes turned to whispered words as if, perhaps, Chanyeol understood. 

It was too much. Baekhyun hid his face in Chanyeol's neck and shivered violently. The tears came then, the real ones, choking and hot. He wrapped his arms around Chanyeol's back and dug his fingers into his back as sobs wracked his body and he forgot to be strong. He wasn't strong enough to fight him. He didn't want to. It was too unfair, too cruel, that he man who had stolen his heart was not a thief after all.

"I'm sorry--" he whispered, a litany of apology for hurts he'd dealt him so far, and those yet to come. I'm sorry I can't be what you want. His fingers grasped at Chanyeol's shoulders, buried in his hair. I'm sorry you were so good to me. His lips pressed to Chanyeol's neck. This would be the last time. I'm sorry it had to be you. 

Chanyeol's voice carried on. Baekhyun clung to him and cried, the deep mournful keening of a man who had lost everything. I'm sorry I can't stay.

Morning was a slow, disorienting arrival as Baekhyun fought off consciousness from the haven of dreams. Soft strains of acoustic guitar drifted to his ears. Morning light pried beneath his eyelids. He was warm. The blankets were tucked up under his chin and his hands were balled in fists beneath them. He listened for the guitar, following its melody. A frown knit his brow and he squeezed his eyes closed. He didn't turn around, didn't trust himself with the sight.

Today was the day he would finally set things to rights. It was time to stop. Come hell or high water, he'd said. Well, both had arrived and he was up creek, out to sea, with no paddle, no ark, just two loving souls he could only seem to hurt.

He felt numb as he lay in quiet, a battleground gored. How would guilt take him? Would it stretch its wings over him like a dark mantle, press in on his heart and pour him shots of vile liquor til he collapsed on the ground? Or would it take his hand and lead him someplace high, high up and push him to freefall to an end, in one glorious final moment of freedom? 

Snatches of the night prior came to him in detached detail; he had told Chanyeol to leave. He had demanded it, screamed it, whispered and begged, but he hadn't left. And then he had held him, and sang to him, and kept his head above water as he weathered the storm.

I'm sorry I have to hurt you. 

Baekhyun's eyes misted and he blinked rapidly. Gaugi