His lips were so soft, Sehun could not think of anything softer. Plush cotton candy – not even close.

One of Lu Han’s hands was tightly tucked in his hair, pulling him closer (a little too rough, but Sehun didn’t mind). His other hand lay on Sehun’s chest, gently caressing the skin atop his heart.

“Lu Han,” he whispered in between kisses, their breaths mingling. “Hm?” Lu Han’s eyes were intense when he looked at him, his lips finding their way to the other’s cheek. Sehun chuckled. “Nothing. I just like calling your name.“ He felt Lu Han’s smile against his ear, as the latter boldly tugged on it. “I like calling yours too,” he said. “Sehun.”

Sehun.

Sehun.

Sehun.

Sehun’s head bumped so painfully against the wall to the left of his bed that it jerked him awake with the most delicious burn in his temple.

What the…

Holding his throbbing head in both of his hands, he noticed how tightly his shirt stuck to his upper body, completely drenched with sweat. In disgust, he pulled himself up and despite the sharp pain in his forehead, he found himself under splashy lukewarm water a bit more than a minute later.

Dreams.

These freaking dreams. He still had them; they kept him from sleeping through every night and they pushed all of his buttons with doing so. And on top of that – it had become even more difficult during daytime as well.

His thoughts were more unsteady than ever, whenever he tried to concentrate on something, he could be sure that he’d drift away within the next five to ten minutes. It was terrible. He thought of landscapes, of gardens, of moonlight, of kissing and the rustling of bedclothes (ugh). Sehun could not remember since when he had become such a romantic.

He was not stupid though. He was well aware, that all this was connected to the train accident of last summer. He still only had vague memories of that incident, most of them were created from the stories he had heard or read. His own had yet to come back, and they were, in fact, coming back, showing him that there was even more that he had thought there was.

The easiest thing, of course, would be to make his own research or to ask his parents (especially after he had heard his mother talking on the phone that day he’d spent in the garden), but he was too afraid to do it himself and each time a good opportunity at home appeared, he made the mistake to look at his mother’s face before speaking. The words, he wanted to tell so desperately would not come out after that. Her eyes were too sad, too anxious, too guilty. And each time, Sehun had felt fear crawling up inside of him, reaching for the depths of his heart, the depths of his soul; it scared him. It scared him so much he had to stutter something about sunny weather and amazing food to get himself distracted.

I should really ask, he thought (for the guessed hundredth time), as he dried his hair with a fluffy towel he’d got from one of his ex-girlfriends back in high school.

Not as soft as his lips though.

He stopped immediately. Towel forgotten, headache forgotten, his ness forgotten too. He rushed back into his bedroom, taking in the sight of his wrinkled-up bed.

Lu Han?

~*~

As long as he could remember, Lu Han had never had a friendly relationship with heights, especially not with high ones. The little girl in the row next to him looked like she’d love to trade seats with him (because he had one by the window and they had just begun their landfall), and really, Lu Han would love to swap too, if he would not have to be afraid of throwing up the second he would open his mouth to say something. He felt like dying – without any burlesque, really. Maybe going to South Korea again had not been that good of an idea in the end.

Lu Han closed his eyes, leaned back and took a deep breath. No, he thought. No, it was the right decision. He needed to find him after all. Sehun, the boy who should have been shot instead of him. Sehun, the boy he had saved. And whose family did not want to have anything to do with Lu Han, after they had found out that he was awake again. They were thankful and relieved, but they didn’t want him to come, didn’t want him to interfere in Sehun’s life (again), and didn’t want him to possibly destroy what they had worked for so hard the past year. Because Sehun had been suffering from a strong kind of phobia and it just recently had got better. And Lu Han could make it worse again.

Still, he was here, determined to find this boy. He had to. In fact, the urge was so strong, he barely had had the chance to find peace in sleeping the nights before his flight, he’d been too excited and afraid at the same time, but most of all he had felt this pull. This pull that was still there and that made him think I need to see him.

And this thought did not come from his mind. It came from his heart.

Lu Han was sure that the connection he felt was not something that happened to people all too often. Actually, as ridiculous as it might sound, it appeared to be a little bit special, sprinkled with a tad of magic. Not all of the memories from last summer were back yet, but Lu Han had learned to pay attention to the vivid images of his dreams and most of them fit well with what his mother had told him.

Him saving Sehun for example. And based on the knowledge of his name in his dreams, he must have been aware of that in reality back then too. Which meant, he had spoken to him – before the accident. And he could picture Sehun’s face so clearly, even now, with him being sick sitting in a plane that fell to the grounds of South Korea.

He was positive, he would recognize him the moment he saw him, which meant, that he must have paid close attention to the other boy last summer. And that again could mean, that they had liked each other. Maybe even more than that, depending on the amount of time they had had to get to know each other.

And knowing that, Lu Han was definitely no person to give up and stay in the shadows. He was not so patient to wait until the other would maybe find him, or until the other would be ready to find him. Because that could take forever. And there was a high chance of him regretting that. Plus, Lu Han had waited long enough. He had waited months and months, lying in a hospital bed, unaware of his surroundings. Now he had to make the best out of the time he was given.

~*~

It had been Jongin’s idea.

Well, not exactly.

Actually, Jongin had only suggested that he should try fighting his fears again and stop hiding, and well, that’s how he interpreted the hint: with going to the train station. Excellent.

Sehun could already feel his sweat breaking out again, his shirt beginning to cling to his body just like last night. It’s okay. It’s okay, Sehun. You can do this. You’ll be fi-

He bolted backwards as the sudden signal of an incoming train flooded the air. Not good. It was definitely not a good sign, when he reacted like this to a simple sound. He could not even see any trains yet as he stood in front of the train station’s tall building. Clearly not one of his better days. Maybe he should go home and try again tomorrow (or the day after tomorrow). He should take Jongin with him then (he’d probably do a better job than last time, when he had dragged him into this club). Yes, Sehun would like that. He should turn around, should go home, should lie down, should plan this better, and should do so many other billion things before coming back here.

The clock struck 5pm as he gave the train station’s hustle and bustle a last glance. Sehun turned around and his eyes were caught by a figure crossing the street in front of him, sending a shiver down his spine, causing his heartbeat to stop for a moment that lasted longer than any other moments had before.

There he was: wrapped in the warm light of the late afternoon’s sun. And Sehun was not sure anymore if he was still dreaming, or if this silent reverie of his had finally come to life.

We're near the big finale, friends!

Thank you for staying with me and have a nice day!

XXX, Raico