There is a certain beauty in fire. The way the flames dance ,in unrestricted rhythms to orange and red symphonies. They way that the heat is somehow comforting.The way it causes harm to those not skilled enough to tame it.

There is beauty in the blue flames that up the length of Chanyeol’s arm. They linger there,curling and twisting until the boy wills them away. He watches them retreat back into his palm before they disappear completely. He stares blankly. Waiting. Wasting.

He is the boy who breaths in love and spits out fire.