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Prompt: “Things Change”

Pairing: Sehun/Luhan

Words: ~2000

Dedicated to Rose08.

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A lot changes in two years, especially when the simple things you’ve become so used to change too. The sun changes its position in the sky and before you know it, a new day is dawning and you have barely enough time to recollect what you spent your time doing the day before. Soon days become a weeks, weeks become months, and months become years, until you find yourself sitting in an old rocking chair by the fireplace one cold winter night, curled up in a blanket, hands old and wrinkled.

 

You can’t remember that face that caught your attention at the station until its too late, and they’ve left, gone far away. You retrace your steps daily to find even an ounce of familiarity, but the feeling is gone; faded into a memory.

 

You can’t tell what is a memory and what is simply self-composed fantasy.

 

Luhan waits expectantly, his eyes gracing over the menu of this small Italian restaurant. It is somewhere he had picked out for the pair to catch up at, though he was still not here. He was supposed to be here at least an hour ago. To Luhan, that’s definitely pushing the boundaries of fashionably late.

 

When he is just about ready to leave, tears threatening to fall from his eyes, he hears that familiar sound; the familiar tread that he heard daily in the past, that is now little more than a pattering echo in his mind. Luhan was certain he would be stood up again, though his dining partner always had a perfectly good explanation for it. It always tugged at Luhan’s heart.

 

“Sehun,” he breathes, jumping up from his seat. The pair shakes hands emotionlessly and Sehun takes his seat gingerly on the opposite side of the table, eyes looking straight to the silver cutlery out on display.

 

Anywhere but Luhan’s deep chocolate brown eyes.

 

Sehun looks different. Every time they meet there’s that little thing different about him. He’s taller than Luhan, but he’s always been that little bit taller. Luhan notices quickly that he’s dyed his hair once again. It’s almost a silvery grey now, and it looks foreign to Luhan. His skin is much more pale than Luhan had ever seen it before, and his skin was taut, like a thin layer of plastic wrapped around bone. His jaw juts out painfully, and Luhan flinches as Sehun’s lips tug upward, revealing a small dimple on his right cheek.

 

When the silence is far too heavy, Luhan clears his throat in a poor attempt to begin a conversation. Sehun lets his long fingers fiddle with his napkin, eyes not leaving the silverware that seems to flash in the candlelight.

 

“So… how have you been?” Luhan asks. He hears a sigh, and flicks his eyes across the table, nervously tugging at the tablecloth.

 

“Good…” Sehun responds.

 

Silence.

 

Conversations have been much harder these past few months. One worded responses are all Sehun seems capable of when talking to Luhan, and each word stings, like a knife run down Luhan’s side; lightly, though pressed deep enough to draw a thin layer of blood.

 

Luhan sighs, eyes scanning the room. It’s late, and most of the people have left. A waiter stands to the left, watching the pair intently. Luhan gives him a small nod and he marches over, taking out his notepad and pen, ready to scrawl out their orders on blank paper that’s going to be thrown out very shortly. Luhan feels almost as worthless as that square piece of paper. Sehun has thrown him out almost completely.

 

“I’ll have a serving of the vegetable ravioli. Sehun, what would you like?”

 

The name sounds almost foreign on his lips.

 

“Nothing.”

 

Luhan shakes his head, telling the waiter that Sehun will have what he’s having himself, also ordering a small garden salad for the table. When the waiter is out of earshot, Luhan takes Sehun’s hand in his, a gesture perhaps too intimate for Sehun’s tastes, and gives it a harsh squeeze.

 

“You have to eat something,” Luhan growls, eyes searching Sehun.

 

“You haven’t been OK. I have to go in and visit more often.”

 

Sehun shakes his head profusely, pulling his hand from Luhan’s before running a finger over Luhan’s forearm. Luhan shivers at the touch, and Sehun pulls away quickly; too quickly.

 

“I don’t want you to see me there,” Sehun says. He’s said this to Luhan so many times before.

 

“Do they feed you enough?” Luhan presses.

 

“Do they give you the proper medication? Air? Do you get to go outside to breathe? Or do they keep you locked up all day?”

 

Sehun growls, kicking Luhan from underneath the table. Luhan gives a little squeak, flinching away. He can feel tears prick at his eyes, but he wills them away. He will be strong, he is a man.

 

“Stop worrying about me. I’m sick of people worrying.”

 

“Why can’t I see you?” Luhan complains.

 

“Everyone else does, so why can’t I?”

 

Sehun hesitates.

 

“I don’t want you to think differently about me. I don’t want you to think I’m insane or depressed or a ‘special case’. I want you to remember me for who I was before all of this.”

 

Luhan sighs, placing a hand over his heart. He exhales slowly, eyes downcast.

 

He remembers that one sunny afternoon he had just gotten his driving license, and he had picked Sehun up from school as a surprise. They had turned the radio on to a station that only he and Sehun had the mind to listen to, humming as a familiar beat filled his ears and overcame his senses so much he had to pull over to the side of the road.

 

Sehun was still in his school uniform, and it was probably not the proper time for him to leave the school grounds, but he had come anyway. He had walked round the opposite side of the shiny new convertible Luhan had saved so much money to buy and helped lower the sun roof so that warmth could dance over his skin.

 

When they had reached the highway, Sehun had removed his seatbelt and stood upright, palms outstretched to the sky. They hadn’t expected the rain to come as quickly as it did, but in the end the pair were too content screaming their lungs out to the song to notice their hair and clothes becoming saturated, small puddles of water sitting in the bottom of Luhan’s car.

 

At one stage Sehun even opened his mouth and stuck his tongue out, lapping up the water the heavens had presented to him, giggling as he shut his wide eyes tightly. There was something so fresh about the sight that Luhan couldn’t take his eyes off the younger teen, and he had to pull over again.

 

Luhan can no longer remember the song, or the way the sun felt on his skin. It all seems like something foreign, distant, forgotten. Better days. Days he wishes could have lasted forever.

 

Luhan braves the rain and the protests of his friends one day, finding himself in front of a large, plain white building, made of a sickeningly lifeless grey concrete. His face flushes as he runs across the cold and wet pavement, the sound of his footsteps leaving echoes.

 

He folds his black umbrella back into itself and places it gently in a basket by the door, stepping over to the receptionist. He cares little that his perfectly straightened caramel hair has been matted to his forehead, and his business attire is soaked through to his skin, leaving him shivering feverishly.

 

“I’m here to see Oh Sehun,” he announces kindly.

 

The receptionist looks surprised, and that’s when Luhan realises he’s going to have to have a word to Jongin about it when he gets the time.

 

“He hasn’t had visitors in a few months, poor thing. Keeps himself locked up in his room and barely ever leaves it, if only to shower or to eat.”

 

“So he is eating,” Luhan remarks. The receptionist gives a nod.

 

“Sometimes it takes some coaxing, but in the end he always does. Something about a boy he had made a promise to.”

 

This smile is the first Luhan has smiled in a long while. He nods to the receptionist as she reads a room number off her sheet and makes his way nervously down the bare corridor. It looks so droll and boring, with not even a portrait or painting hanging on the wall; just a fire escape map. But with all the rain, it seemed he’d never have to use it.

 

“Luhan?”

 

Sehun jumps at the light tap on his door; he knows exactly who it is before it is even pushed open. He stands clear of the doorway, walking around to the far side of his bed before leaning against the wall. It, like the rest of the building, a plain white.

 

“What are you doing here?” Sehun squeaks.

 

Luhan shrugs, sitting down on the end of Sehun’s bed, looking around. It truly is horrible. The carpet is worn and dirtied with marks that Luhan does not want to identify, the ceilings peeling, the floorboards broken and leaving splinters. The bed sheets are hardly comfortable and itch at Luhan’s skin.

 

“I came to visit,” Luhan states simply, before making his way across to Sehun. He pulls the younger teen into a warm embrace, pressing his chin against Sehun’s neck. Sehun tries to push away but Luhan holds him in place.

 

“I’m going to get you out of here,” Luhan breathes.

 

“But I like it here!” Sehun retorts, anger in his eyes.

 

“It’s quiet and I don’t have to talk to people anymore. It’s not like you ever cared before when they brought me here, Luhan. Why start caring about it now?”

 

Luhan bites his tongue.

 

“I did care, Sehun.”

 

“No you didn’t!” Sehun screams.

 

“When people said something was wrong with me you pushed me away! You started to stop talking to me and you left them to do with me as they pleased!”

 

“I was afraid!” Luhan bites back.

 

“You were afraid of me?” Sehun says in mock surprise. Luhan shakes his head, tears skidding his cheeks. He presses his nose to Sehun’s chest and breathes in, sobbing into his chest. Sehun tenses as Luhan lets the tears freely fall and soak their way through Sehun’s shirt, his fingers curling against the fabric as he presses their bodies together.

 

“I was afraid of what would happen to us, Sehun! I didn’t want things to change between us with… you… like this. I wanted it to always be the same. Just us. Just you and me together forever, singing songs and dancing like idiots and buying that stupid bubble tea you like so much! I didn’t want it to end and I was so afraid you’d stop loving me!” Luhan screeches.

 

“But…” Sehun breathes.

 

“I never stopped loving you,” Luhan sobs.

 

“Never.”

 

Sehun fights back tears as he presses his lips to Luhan’s forehead.

 

“Neither did I.”

 

A week later, Sehun’s bags have been packed and he’s been moved out of that dreadful place. His skin is starting to regain its colour and Luhan likes to think it’s because he’s in a better place now, a place where he doesn’t have to be alone anymore. Sehun is still quiet, though his words are slowly returning to his lips. He still needs to take his medication, twice daily, but he’s getting better.

 

The doctors are saying it’s remarkable, how he wasn’t expected to make such a change in such a short time. He may not need to take those pills for much longer.

 

Luhan curls up on the couch, dumping his suitcase in front of the doorway as he enters the small apartment. A lovely smell wafts through the hallways, and he knows Sehun is cooking. It is part of his therapy, Luhan reminds himself. Sehun must keep himself busy or the bad thoughts will return with sickening nausea.

 

“What did you make for us today?” Luhan calls, a smile in his voice. Sehun steps out of the kitchen, a comical dusting of flour streaking his left cheek.

 

“You like Italian, so I made spaghetti. It’s not as good as Kyungsoo’s, but I tried.”

 

Luhan gives Sehun a warm smile, jumping up and pecking him sweetly on the nose.

 

“I know you tried, Sehun. You always try so hard,” Luhan whispers.

 

“I love you.”