October 3rd, 2015

  A calm, warm scent hits my nostrils as I breath in deeply.  

 The scent of comfort food, festive candles and a touch of a roses' fragrance had filled me up along with the room. 

It almost made me feel better.  Almost.  

The vanilla smell calmed my nerves while the comfort food made my tummy (which was filled with many butterflies) grumble a bit.  With smells like that it was easy to fall into a slighty more chipper mood than my orginal one.  But one thing was holding me back from smiling and taking in another deep breath; the roses.

They reminded me of her.  

With that an image of her flashed in my minds' eye, almost like a picture.  

Next thing I knew, my pain doubled.  

My fists clenched harder than ever before, my nails digging into my palms.  My knees buckled and a coldsweat formed on my forhead.  I bit my bottom lip.  My stomach swirled in the most painful way, whether it was butterflies or giant monsters trying to climb out; I did not know.  My chest felt uncomfortably light while my shoulders slumped due to the imaginary weight on top of them.  

Sadness.  It weighed me down and phsyically made it hard to breathe.  It hurt like hell.  My heart beat too fast that I couldn't think.  , I just wanted to escape.  I didn't want this....  Why did it have to be like this?  If there was a god, why would he allow this?  My mind swirled with countless curses and thoughts that moved around too fast for me to stop and truly process.  

  Tears began to form in my eyes.  My eyes clenched closed as I let the tears fall, shamelessly. The pain was like an ocean, it hit me serveral times in the form of waves.  Yet, it was too deep and simply too much of it for me to survive and not drown in.  I didn't feel the need to fight against it, for it was pointless.  The pain was too powerfull and too it I was just another one of it's weak victims.  

  The air was begining to get too thick too breath in.  My lunges stopped understanding how to breathe anything in.  I dragged a raggedy breath and tried desprately tried to focus my mind on the task at hand.  

  I counted to ten.  Slowly.  Like a child who just fully understand how the numberline worked.  

  When I reached the double digit number, I opened my eyes.  I was met with a familiar sight.

  I was in a small but cozy cottage that had old wooden floors and large open spaces for many guests, it also had dark green walls and wooden bookshelves.  I remembered booking this cottage about a week ago.  I had called the real-estate owner and told them the situation, as to which they gave me a discount to a point where I had to pay next to nothing.  

  After I had bought it, my older sister cleaned it up domestically.  She swept, mopped, dusted and somehow got the place to shine and sparkle.  She then decorated with numerous candles placed around the house and framed pictures of our family (mainly of mom) on the green walls.  Yesterday, she had called the local flourist and ordered dozens of roses.  

  I didn't have the heart to tell her that the roses did nothing but worsen my grief.  Even if I did, there wasn't much I could do.  I didn't want to go against my mothers last wishes.  

  A sharp, instant pain hit my chest.  

  Mom.  Could I even call her that anymore?  It seemed rather...odd to call the woman who was about to be buried six feet under my....mother.  

  It all hit me.  

All those times she had tucked me in at night and then kissed my forehead.  

All those times she kissed my cuts and bruises after I had come in after a rough day of playing with the neighborhood kids.

All those times I felt so sick at school that the nurse would call her over to pick me up, thus I would run into her safe arms when she arrived.  

 All those times....

  I felt so ashamed of myself.  I was like a stupid fool who held onto all the past memories to distract myself from my own pain.  

 How ing pathetic I was.  

 A loud ticking began to ring in my ears.  I then noticed the large clock hanging on the wall.  It 'tick tock'-ed loudly.  It made me nervous.  Very, very, dreadfully nervous.  The time was coming.  Where I would have to say goodbye to my mother forever.  The clock ticked mockingly at me.  Time was disapearing, and sliping through my fingertips.   All the while, I sat here, grasping stupidly at it.  How time mocked me.  I suddenly had the overwhelming urge to holler at the clock until my throat was sore from all the curses and insults I would throw at it.  

But my train of thought was rudely interupted by a gentle hand being placed on my shoulder.  The hand then gripped my shoulder in a way of showing comfort.  I glanced back at my intruder of peace and saw my older sister.

 She was tall, a trait that her and I both shared.  Her skin was as pale as mine, and her face held a childish tint to it that many told me I had as well.  Her lips were a bit more plump than mine and her nose a bit smaller.  She wore an elegant black dress and old pearls she had gotten from our late grandmother.  Her long black hair was pulled up into a complex bun that somehow had braids incorperated into it.  She wore little makeup, as she opted for a more natural look.  Only using masscara and bright red lipstick.  She did look rather beatiful.

  "Hey, are you okay?"  She asked almost motherly. 

  I shook my head.  No, I was not okay.  And what kind of stupid question was that?  My mother just died.  The person who borught me into this earth, was gone.  Completely wiped out from this earth. 

  My sister seemed a bit shocked by my blunt answer but nodded understandingly.  What?  Did she expect me to lie to her and nod my head?  No, I was going to be honest with her.  After all, she was all I had right now.

  I let the silence take over the room.  Not really bothering to speak.  I had nothing much to say.  A couple of seconds had passed, and soon the silence seemed to mock me even more than the clock.  I said the fist thing that came to mind, not really caring if I hurt my sisters's feeling or not by saying this.  

  "Why weren't we here?"  I whispered through my chapped lips.  

A sharp intake of breath was heard behind me.  And I knew I had hit a spot in her.  But, I couldn't hold it in anymore.

  We were good kids.  We always have been.  My mother was a single parent after our dad had suffered from an unexpected heart-attack halfway through her pregnancy with me.  I wasn't even born yet and my sister was but a toddler.  All we ever had was our mother.  She was sweet and caring to us.  She always supported us in whatever we wanted to do.  Even going so far as to get three jobs so she was able to afford the Christmas presents we wanted some years.  She tried very hard not to yell at us.  Always letting us have our little tanturms before calming us down and making us completely forget what we were even angry about in the first place.  She was the best, and never forgot to bake us chocolate chip cookies every Sunday night.  Her hugs were the best and always felt warm and safe.  And even though she didn't have much, she insisted to pay for me and my sister's tution.  

  But that's where it all fell apart.  

  College tore us apart.  

  My sister and I had decided that the universities in the city were much better than the one in our homsetown.  Sadly, this meant that we would have to be six hours away from our mother.  But when we were sent off, we promised our mom to call on daily baises.  But, being a first-time adult was so busy.  Other than studying like crazy, there was so much to do.  Meeting new people, drinking, partying, romance and were things that just came along with the college expierence.  I was enjoying every minute of it.  Every other day, a new wild party, with interesting strangers, mainstream music, addictive liquor and adventerous was all so amazing to me.  At highschool, I was a straight-up nerd who was oddly tall and much too quirky.  At college, I was a handsome devil (who's quirks add to my charm) with many one night stands under my belt.  I was living the life and somehow still managed to keep my grades at a steady average.

  My sister was different, she was alot more mature.  She was a senior at college and only had one short year to finish before she would recieve her degree.  She chose not to drink, and instead focused her attention on her grades.  Because of this, her proffesors claimed her a genius and granted her all A's.  She wasn't much different from how she was last year, except the fact that she grew into her body and puts a bit more effort into her appearance.  Indeed, she looked a lot more pretty then she did in highschool, and even got herself her first ever boyfriend:Kris.  Kris was tall, handsome, smart and spoke three languages.  My sister was only too eager to bring him home for thanksgiving.  So she did, last year.  And that Thanksgiving was the last we saw her.

  It was a long three days, of mom endlessly cooking and coddling us.  She would try to capture every single moment with her brand new smart phone (which she barely knew how to use).  She would constantly pinch my cheek and tell me how handsome I was and ask me about my eating habits in college, before stuffing my face with even more food desptite my attempts at telling her that everything was okay concerning my well-being.  Ever so nice, she claimed Kris as her 'other son' the moment he walked into her home.  The kind lady never stopped trying to make him feel right at home, asking him about his family, calling him handsome and childishly demanding to hear stories about Kris's and my sisters' past.  Like how they met, when was the first kissed ect. But once those three days were up, me and my sister had to return to our university dorms.  

  I was back to my old ways and so was my sister.  She even admitted to me that it was Kris that often had to remind her to call mom.  I, on the other hand, completely blocked her out in favor for ing around and getting high.  But then, winter approached.  Exams were coming up.  And while everyone was studying me and my sister received a call.

  It was our aunt.  Who called us in tears, demanding that we come home now.  When we finally calmed her down enough to a point where we could actually understand her, she told us that our mother was innocently walking home (due to her car being in the shop) when a drunk driver ran a red light along with the woman who gave birth to us.  The driver was going at such a speed that, the force was way too much for any human body to handle.  She only lasted a solid two hours before the doctors gave up, saying death was a sure promise and her insurance didn't cover it.

  Hearing that, my sister and I rushed home.  Only to be met with an empty, colorless, depressing family home that was lacking of the motherly soul we were so used to being around.  All love seemed to be drained from our childhood home.  And all I could think about was: why?

  Why didn't I just call her?  Why didn't I tell her I love her?  Why didn't I tell her to get rides from people instead of walking around?  

  My sister also seemed to be going through a quick phase of guilt as she pulled out a hankerchief and padded away at her tears.  I, too had begun to tear up. What vile children we were... If anything, we were the ones that should have been killed.  We were hideous, awful beings that were too selfish.  

  We stood there, crying and crying at our own miserable, motherless lives.  

 ***********************************

  Family had arrived twenty minutes later with pots and conatiners of steaming food.  They filled the small cottage, wearing all black and sympathetic smiles.  They swarmed upon my sister and me, hugging us tightly and whispering words of comfort into our ears.  

  "Such a kind woman, didn't deserve to end that way."

  "Oh, you poor little things!  First your handsome father, then your innocent mother!"

  "Darling's you know you could stop by at mine whenever you need to."  

Comforting words meant little to me.  For they were empty.  People just said them to my sister and I in order to make themselve's feel better.  Sure, they did pity us, but the words were meant for them more than they were meant for us.

Soon, the time came.....all of my family began leaving the small cottage.  And walking to the graveyard.  We passed by many gravestones as the sky began to get darker and darker.  The clouds somehow tranistioned into a greyier color as if they were also sad.  I personally couldn't have loved the weather more.  It would seem most innapropriate if the weather was any brighter.

  We marched into the graveyard, already seeing the church folks that stood beside the freshly buried ground.  We lined up next to the spot, chairs already haven been organized neatly around it.  We all gazed at the freshly buried spot.  The coffin had already been lowered down into it, then covered up.  All that was left was the service.

  The local priest was only too happy to provide his service.  Our mother was a loyal church goer that donated whatever she could to the place.  She was a strict christian that prayed everyday.  She was kind to all and was labeled as the church's little gem.  The church was her life.  

  I however did not beileve in god.  In my second year of highschool I came to the realazation that god was nothing but the creation of men who desperately needed something to grasp at.  But, for the sake of my mother's poor little heart, I told her I prayed everyday and kept my christian morals.  In a way I was glad to have a mother who was religous.  It meant that my mother was always busy.  And I'm sure it would have meant alot to her to have a preist here.  

  It was an awkward chore, to contact the church.  My sister and I both thought that the church was in a way, corrupt.  Our mother had very little money but she still gave her all to them.  This angered us.  Espically when they asked us for donations after we booked them for the funeral.  

  But still, this is what my mother's last wishes were, and I could not argue with that.  If I treated her bad in life, I will ing honor her in death.  

 Me and my sister sat in the very first row, closest to the burial site.  Only the closest family members sat in the front.  Which was me and my sister, my wrinkly aunt, her fat husband (with the thickest mustache I have ever seen), my ty cousin (who was wearing the shortest dress anyone has ever worn at a funeral), and my other nerdy cousin.  Other church goers and family friends sat behind us.  But there was also a group of chairs that sat on the other side of the of the barial site.  I did not recongnize these people.  My sister organized the guest list and she told me that mom frimly said in her funeral plans that she wanted them there.  

  My guess was that they were neighbors or just simple people around our small town.  Mother always seemed to think everyone was her friend.  And pratically everyone was.  

 "We are gathered here today, to honor a wonderful lady who left us all too soon..." The man began.  "She was a gentle mother, an exciting friend and a loyal christian.  On September 30th she was proclaimed dead at Riverside hospital.  They said she was a fighter and tried very hard to keep her heart beating even in the darkest of times.  But, our lord and saviour desperlately took her away and gained a new angel in heaven that night.  We all ask for you to bow your heads, and join me in our prayer."

  Everyone bowed thier heads.  I only rolled my eyes.  Praying was a waste of time.  Empty words to and wasted breath.  I loved my mother very much, but I would not pray.  I was smarter than that.  Apparently so was my sister as she held her head up high, despite the odd looks we recieved from the priest.

  The old man then began rambling off.  Finding this boring, I scanned the site of the many people who had their heads bowed and eyes closed.  But when I looked foward, my heart lurched.

  He was gorgeous.  

  Small, but gorgeous. 

  Adorable.  Tiny. Enchanting. Beautiful.  Lovely.

  My cheeks heated up and my lips pursed up.  For some odd reason my nose twitched along with my brow.  Oh, .  What was happening to me?  

 He wore a simple (slimming) black suit with a thin black tie.  His hair was roundish and black but fit his round face, perfectly.  His lips were perfect and plush.  His skin was pale (to a point where it looked like it was pratically glowing) and 100% flawless.  It was free of any pimples, acne, blemishes or even birthmarks.  His eyebrows were arched and looked perfectly plucked.  But that didn't have much to do with his eyes.

 Oh god, his eyes.

 They were large and wide.  Dark but innocent.  Wonderfully framed by girlishly long eyelashes. They gazed around the graveyard, clearly uncomfortable.  In such a way that instantly remined me of a small child that hated graveyards.  The sight made me want to 'aww'.  He was adorable.  ing adorable.  

  He would easily beat the -ty- girls that I encounter at the paties all the time.  So sweet.  My stomach warmed up.  

 Oh, how I just wanted to wrap him up in my large arms.  So vulnerable was what he looked like as he eyed his surrounings, worriedly.  He begun biting on his lower lip.  , I wanted to choke up.  

 He pearly white tooth peecked out from under his bright pink lip and dug into the plump bottom one.  

 My fists unknowningly began to clench up. My nails begun digging into my palm.  Oh ....what was happening to me?  

 Everyone raised their heads and murmured a collective 'amen'.  However, my eyes did not leave him.  

Not even when the preist began his speech.  

Not even when my sister tapped my arm, questioning what was wrong with me.

 Not even when the service was over and we all walked back to the cottage.  

My eyes never left him.

*******************************

  The cottage was once again over-crowded.  All the food and drinks were being served in the dinning room and kitchen.  Everyone's volume of talking got louder as they begun to talk about much, much more things, hoping to get rid of the sadness that held heavy in the air.  

  In the large crowd, I lost him.  It was only bound to happen as he was much too tiny.  So tiny, he was easily breakable.  

  I found myself being constantly wrapped up in random people's arms.  They called me odd names li 'tyke', 'buddy' or 'chief' obviously trying to make me feel better.  If only they knew that they could help me feel better by getting out of my way so I can find this angel!  

  But no.  They continued to swarp me.  

 "Hey there, big guy." A sultry voice sound from behind me.  

 Ugh.  I turned over and saw Mila.  AKA my ty cousin.

  She her lips in a way she must have thought was hot and stepped foward. Her blue eyes (which were obviously fake contacts) eyed me up and down before they flickered back up to me.  

 "You have grown since the last time I've seen you."  She purred.  I wanted to vomit.  She was aware that we were blood-related right?  

 "Well, of course I had.  I was nine last time I've seen you."  I answered back shortly.  

 "Sorry about your mom and stuff.  But, I think I could make you feel better.."  She trailed of as she begun twirling around my tie with her hands.  And to say I was sickened, would be the world's biggest understatement.  

 Luckily, a throat cleared around from behind us.  She instantly jumped backwards, as if I had burned her or something.  Someone then made their presence known and appeared beside me.  My aunt.  

 She glared down at Mila and Mila backed down by making her way to her nerdy brother.  I felt reilef wash over me.  Thank god.

 Soon I was wrapped into a pair of short chubby arms and the worst perfume I had ever smelt.  

 "Oh, honey.  You simply must forgiver her.  You see, her boyfriend just dumped her and she's not in the right state of mind."  She wailed.  I cringed at the sound and tried to gently tore myself away from her.  

 'Yeah well, my mom just died so....' 

  "Oh, it's okay.  I understand.  Umm...I'm actually feeling a bit peckish.  Do you mind if leave for the kitchen?"  I asked.  

  She instantly grabbed my hand and led me over to the kitchen.  

  "Oh don't worry dear!  Auntie will fix you a plate, just wait in the dinning room, okay?"  He was then dragged over to the warm dinning room.  Many people have tried to stop us and ask how I was, but my loud aunt just told them to stop being 'vultures' and leave me be.  To which I muttured: "Ironic coming from you."

  She then dropped me off in the dinning room and left to the kitchen that was just next door.  

 The dining room was small and tiny, but held a table full of tiny snacks.  Finger sandwhiches, choclate brownies, ice teas, and much more tiny deserts.  No one was really in here, as everyone just grabbed what they wanted and carried them around with them in small plastic plates.  

  And then....there was him.

  He was standing by the tall window, gazing out of it curiously.  He looked even tinier now that I was closer to him.  He looked pathetically adoarble and undienably squishy.  I bit my lip at the mere sight.  He was adroable.  My heart was aflutter.

  Bravely, I stepped foward.  He must have heard as his tiny body jumped.  And his big, fearful eyes looked back at me.  I desperatley wanted to slap myself at the fact that I had made him scared.  I felt like a monster.  

"Don't be scared.  I'm sorry for frieghtning you."  I told him. 

  His delecate cheeks turned into the lovilest shade of pink.  And I wanted to moan at how delicous the sight was.  I reached my hand out in what I hope was a friendly way.  His soft, warm hand took it and shook it gently.  

 "Chaneyol."  I said.

 "Baekhyun."  He answered.  

  His voice was sweet and silky and made me shiver with hot need.  Oh my god.  How I wanted him to keep talking forever and ever.  It was better than music!

  "I'm sorry for your mother.  She was a kind woman."  His meek voice said as he looked down, as if shy.

  Oh, how kind he was.  My heart warmed and I found it harder and harder to discover a flaw within this perfect little person.  

  "Thank you.  That means alot to me." I said, sincirely.  

  "Yes, she talked about you being a handsome devil all the time."  His sweet voice said.  I must have made a confused face at this as to which he continued; "Well, everyday after school I visited her.  She would bake me goods and tell me about her two wonderful children who were out at college in the city."  

  My heart leapt a bit.  Oh, how sweet he was.  How sweet and generous.  And he was close to my mother as well!  Ugh, he was perfect...

  From then on I was his and he was mine.  We captured each other's attention.  Absolute, undevided attention.  He had me hanging onto every word, desperate for his sweet meek voice.  I wanted information, which he happily gave to me.  We spoke of his interests and mine.  We discovered ourselves within each other.  I never felt so full.  My chest felt warm as I happily engrossed myself within him.  This perfet, tiny being who already was tugging onto my heart strings.  I mentally cheered for every simple giggle and smile I brought out of him.  I happily told him the most embarrasing stories I once swore to never tell anyone in order to keep his moods up.  The light outside dimmed, but our connection did not.  Even at the tender age of seventeen, Baekhyun was really mature.  He discussed theories that I myself had heard once or twice in lectures that my proffesor would bring up.  He was brillant but navie and innocent as well.  He needed protecting from everything less than good in this world.  

**************************

  The cottage was cold and grey.  

 I geunienely bieleve I have found a soul mate in this young highschooler.  Splendid was what he was.  But, unfourtantely, the funeral was over.  The guests had all left, but not before cleaning up after themselves and hugging us.  

  But as soon as they left, my sister stomped off to her room and locked herself in.  So here I was, knocking at her door widly.  

"Sis, are you okay?"

  "No, I'm not ing okay!"  she hollered back at me.

  
"Look, please just come out and tell me why."  I pleaded.  

 "Oh I'll tell you why!  While at our mother's ing funeral, you have spent the whole time chatting up some TEENAGER!"  

 "I was just socializing!"  I defended.

 "No, the truth is you are a manwhore.  I know at school you're some handsome, popular dude or whatever but for 's sakes!  OUR MOTHER"S FUNERAL AND YOU COULDN'T BACK OFF!!!"  She roared.  

 "C-cal-"

 "No, how ing dare you.  You !  What's so special about him!  He's just an ugly, little, highschooler !"  I could easily tell she was now crying. She sobbed hysterically.  

 "Dont ing-"

 "No, I hate YOU!  And tomorow we are leaving and you will never see him again you pevert!  Christ what were you thinking?  He's not even of legal age yet you e!"  She screamed.  

  "What, leaving tomorow?  So early?!"  I blurted out.  Then I fully processed the last part of her rant.  "I'm not a e!  He's very mature for his age!  And yeah whatever, mom died, but get over it!  You and I both know we barely even talked to her when she was alive!"   

  A long pause hung up in the air.  My blood boiled.  Who did she think she was acting as if I was I was the monster?  A red mist took over my sight and my body shook widly.  The thing she said next, offically tipped me over the edge of sanity.  

  "You know what, I'm calling that boy's parents to warn them about you."  

  Anger.  Anger that I have never felt before took over my entire being.  The air got heavier, and my jaw clenched.  My face glowered as my fists formed into fists.  A roar tore from the back of my throat.  The most animalastic sound I have heard.  It was like a demon had possesed me.  All I could think about was tear that god-damn door down.  

  With sudden strength, I rammed into the door, knocking it off it's hinges.  I fell onto the floor along with the door.  A surprised squeak sounded from my older sister.  But still, the demon wasn't satisfied.  Not until she was gone.  I rose up and growled angirly.  She was sitting on her bed, wearing ugly sweatpants and a college T-shirt.  

 "Ch-chanyeol just...calm down."  

  But calm down I did not.  Her fearful gaze only urged me further.  My bloodlust ran deeper.  I trudged closer and closer, with each step I took, my hatred grew.  She wanted to....take him away from me.  How was he supposed to survive without me?  How?  He was too fragile...

  She tried to squirm away but clearly she did not know how strong I was now.  I gripped at her ankle and drew her closer.  She cried and pleaded but no.  She had to pay.  How else would she learn?  I leaned over and took my -giant- hand and wrapped it around her tiny neck.  I squeezed, and I squeezed.  Until her face was blue and she scratched animalistically at my hands that were wrapped aroung her neck...

  When her thrashing body eventually when limp.  I sighed as tears began to welled up.  

  Eventually, I walked off.  Then, returned back with a knife.

***************************

  Baekhyun sat alone in his bed.  Blushing midly, he knawed on his bottom lip.  He couldn't rid his mind off the tall, handsome college student whos' mom just passed.  He felt just...wrong to be crushing over a male who's mom just died.  Afterall, he himself was also close to the older woman as well.  But, it was hard to think about the older woman without think about Chanyeol.  He was older, handsome, tall, adventurous, went to an inner-city school, and just had the cheeriest vibe to him.

  Ever so charming, he talked Baekhyun out of his own sadness.  He talked of many things that left Baekhyun in amazement.  He had many stories to tell and impressions to preform.  Even at his own mother's funeral, he managed to bright up everyon'es day.  So much so, that for a long while during their deep conversation, Baekhyun completely forgot he was even at a funeral.  It was such a shame to leave so early without exchanging numbers.  But, if Baaekhyun was being honest with himsef, he seriously doubted that such a charming college student would have more interest with him.

  Everyone at the funeral was old, boring or just plain weird.  Chanyeol probably wasn't used to such people and was just probably looking for some one (who looked even remotely young) to fill his spare time with.  Baekhyun's father had died only a few short years back and he could fully understand how awkward people treat you at the funeral.  

  Still, though Baekhyun wished for their paths to cross just one more time.  His mother was also at the funeral and she talked to Chanyeol's sister.  Apparently, they were planning on leaving very soon as exams were comming up for the both of them, and they had already missed out on alot of the material.  This saddened Baekhyun but at the same time he felt as though meeting Chanyeol in itself was to good to be true.  A voice in the back of his head just told him that he himself was being selfish to desire for more.  

  A distant knocking sounded from behind him.  Baekhyun jumped.  It sounded very close....

  A couple silent seconds passed before yet another knocking sounded.  It sounded like it was on glass.  Realazation hit Baekhyun and he jumped up to strip back the curtains to reveal....Chanyeol.

  Chanyeol sat on the other side of the window, grinning madly at him.  Baekhyun was shocked and frankly kinda confused.  He opened his window and instantly the friendly giant crawled in.  

  "Hyung, what are you doing here?"  He asked before eyeing chanyeold up and down.  Chanyeol was wearing some black skinny jeans and a plain white V-neck shirt.  He also had one of those proffesor bags strapped across his chest.  Chanyeold only shook his head and grinned further then he stepped closer to Baekhyun and grasped hard at his shoulders.

  "Baekhyun, I need you to run-away with me."  He said seriously.  

  Baekhyun bursted into laughter and expected his hyung to do the same.  But no, Chanyeol stayed still and as serious as ever.

  "Channie?"  He meekly asked.  

  Chanyeol smiled at the nick name.  So many college girls would call him that and it got annoying to him, but with Baekhyun it sounded cute.  

  "There's nothing for you here.  Can't you see that?  Look around you!  Half the population are boring church goers and the other half are innocent minors who are just itching to get out!"  Chanyeol exclaimed.  Baekhyun's jaw dropped.  

  "Look, her's your chance before they drag you into this place forever and you dry.  We could travel!  I got the money!  Don't even worry about it!  Just grab your clothes and come with me.  It will be an amazing adventure!  I promise."  

  Baekhyun was at a lost for words.  Maybe his hyung was insane...? Oh my god, did Baekhyun fall in love with a pycho?!

  "B-but my family...."  was all he could manage.  

  "If your family truly cared about you then they wouldn't be holding you back right now."  Chanyeol answered within a heart beat.  

  "What about school?"  Baekhyun asked, trying to grasp at something that would bring him back to realality and make this idea seem wrong to him yet again.  

 "As a college student, beileve me when I tell you it's utter bull!  You work so hard for a good college that you will end up having to pay for and then you're going to be in debt and owe them student loans for the rest of your life!  Hell, my ing mom died still paying off her loans."  Chanyeol explained.

  "You have to know how crazy you sound right now, right?  Please tell me you do."  Baekhyun pleaded.  

  "I sound crazy, yes I know.  But you owe it to yourself to get out of here.  I don't think I could live knowing that I left you here."  Chanyeol lightly shook Baekhyun.  

  "Your sis-"

  In the midst of asking about Chanyeol's sybiling, Baekhyun was suddenly kissed passionately the friendly giant who seemed to be very stubborn about this whole running away thing.  Chanyeols lips were slightly chapped, but soft still.  His mouth tasted of chocolate mint.  And Baekhyun thought he was in heaven.  He was a really good kisser, whith obviously much expierence under his belt.  

  "Just come...please.  I need a partner in crime.  Someone..."  Chanyeol lightly begged, voice cracking for effect.

  Baekhyun looked down a his feet.  What was he supposed to do?  He wasn't a rebel of any kind.  No, he was goody-too-shoes mama's boy who had all straight A's and went to church every Sunday.  He had never done anything like this before.  Wild adventures, passionate romance and silly quests were just something he'd see in movies or read in books.  But....he couldn't lie, he did want that wild adventure.  Even if it meant being bad for a while...

  "Hey, look at me."  Baekhyun looked up at the college student who stoked his cheek softly.  "Remember when we were talking about Japan?"  Baekhyun nodded.  "Why don't we try that?  Huh?  Just for a few weeks?  We'll start slow and have simple, small adventures.  Your first drink, your first hangover, your first "  at this Baekhyun blushed.  But expierencing all those things with Chanyeol seemed like the perfect way to have those firsts'.  

  Finally Baekyun nodded and packed a bag.  He did leave a note for his mother, informing her that he had quite enough of being cooped up in this small town.  And that Baekhyun would send letters.  

  And in the dead of night, the begun their adventure.

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  They visited many places.  Japan, France, Spain, Hawawii, London just to name a few.  All the while, they kept looking for other ways to expand their adventure.  

  And did chanyeol ever feel guilty about his sister?  

 No.  

  It was all for him.  If he hadn't gotten rid of his sister, then his baby wouldn't have gotten the adventure he deserved.  

 So yeah, the police were looking for him.  But, as he gazes upon Baekhyun's youthful face as he expierences all these odd foreign firsts, he couldn't give a .

  What wouldn't he do for that face?

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 Word count-6145

 Status- Tired as . 

  So, yeah there you go.  I know this is probably a lot of mistakes in there but I tried my best and I'll just go throught them later.  I am (sorta) new to this site and I would really be grateful if you check out my other GRI story titled: Numb.  Please vote and comment and tell me what you thought about it because I kinda just slayed over this laptop forever and it would really if no one said anything...Thank you for reading! :)