Not Just a Fantasy (Angel)
Description
Hyukjae is a boy who once had a family. A loving one, with a mother to tuck him in at night. A father to teach him how to catch a baseball. He could still remember those times. He clung to those memories, like one might cling to the root while dangling over a bottomless hole. Because now, his parents fought. Every day, every night. They never hit each other, though. That was for Hyukjae. Hitting in the family was reserved to just Hyukjae receiving the off-handed slaps, the punches, the everything. At school he was a loner. Everyone ignored the dancer, except when they wanted to add to the bruises coating the boys body. And so this was how Hyunkjae lived. Just taking the punches, never striking back, for the boy had a heart of gold. He did have one happy memory. Of that boy, at the street corner, with rags for cloths. He treasured that memory- it was just for him. All his.
Donghae has no memory of his family. He was abandoned when he was young, alone, to take his chances in the world. And, against the odds, he had over. He had survived. He had even thrived. He was used to simply taking care of himself, looking out for himself, taking responsibility for himself. He was the ghost boy in the shadows of the city, the boy you barely saw, and never heard speak. He hasn't spoke since that day, when he saw the boy. The perfect boy. After the boy disappeared, he just didn't feel the need to speak. He didn't have any connections, no friends. He didn't need to speak. But he started to wish for more as he grew older. To be more than the homeless, alone boy. He wanted someone to talk to, to comfort, to simply interact with. But he didn't see that comign anytime soon. And so he kept his mouth shut.
This fanfic is inspired by Oo2Ticha2Oo's Your ship is not going down (EunHae) on YoutTube. It's beautiful.:)
So this is my first time writing this kind of story, so please tell me what you think.
WARNING: I'm the kind of author who has to make the story sad. I'm going to literally try to make you sad. PLEASE TELL ME IF I SUCCEED:)
Foreword
Across a street. Across throngs of people, cars rushing past, it would have been so easy to just pass each other by. Just to pass by what was meant to be, what was written at the beginning of time. Two boys, no older than ten years. One boy, his face still red and stinging from a slap he hasn't deserved, who would later bare the marks of years of abuse, who would later cry until his tears ran dry. And the other boy, dressed in rags, skinny, pale. A boy who had been abandoned, and had only used his wits to survive. Who knew of nothing but himself. Who relied on no one. Who had not yet truly realized his worth as a human being. Their eyes met, and a fire was born. For a single second, nothing existed but each other. But then one boy was dragged off, a train blew its whistle, and the clock chimed three.
Over years, the fire that was so magnificently lit was cooled to coals. But they will met again, those who are truly meant to be, and the fire will rise again.
This is their story.
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