Oceans apart and it’s heavy on my heart.

            Baekhyun is spring. The first, shy flowers opening under the sun, fragile and beautiful and smiling.

            Chanyeol is summer, bright skies and big trees. He is a palace of rippling green, rustling leaves, and birdsong.

            Baekhyun is winter. Soft pillows of snow lining the sidewalk, pale and sparkling. So beautiful but he disintegrates between your fingertips in seconds, like cotton candy on your tongue. All that’s left is the cold in your hands.

            Chanyeol is fall, brash and bold but his leaves pile up into sophistication. Inside, at least. Behind the grins, Chanyeol thinks about the smallest things.

Oceans apart and I’m sailing on my dreams.

            They meet in an old abandoned classroom in September. School is out, yet they’re both here for the same reason: no reason at all.

I’m spending my time watching the ship and globe.

            They fall in love in a library, surrounded by the smell of crisp paper and time. They fold like origami into each other’s arms and spend the night watching the stars twinkle back at them.

            Chanyeol finds Baekhyun on the ground, crying, in mid-December. “What happened?” he nearly screams, hauling the boy up off the scraggly carpet. “What happened?!”

            “Night came,” Baekhyun says, smiling quietly. “Don’t you worry about me, Chanyeol. I’ll be just fine.”

Beauty’s in the simple things

            Your sweetness and your elegance

            They tell stories. Chanyeol talks about god, and Baekhyun keeps it to himself that he doesn’t believe anymore.

            Chanyeol doesn’t really believe, either. Some nights he just wants to.

I’m happy, you know.

            Baekhyun shows up in his beat up car and beat up smile and Chanyeol cries like a child, breaking down on the doorstep, choking. Baekhyun keeps on smiling, ing smiling until Chanyeol gets up. “I said I’ll be just fine, Chanyeol.”

            “If you were fine, really fine,” coughs Chanyeol through the half rolled down window, “you wouldn’t be crying.”

            Baekhyun looks down bitterly at the wheel, and doesn’t say anything back.

I’m happy, you know.

            It's been three weeks since

            It’s been three weeks.

            He catches wind of Baekhyun’s final letter in the mail. Chanyeol searches for words, but today, Baekhyun draws a picture. It depicts a bookshelf, stuffed full of dusty old novels from time and time ago. A little slip of paper hangs out of Alice in Wonderland, in the shape of a heart. Chanyeol imagines it was folded by pretty fingers, familiar hands that had once sat in his own, fingers twined in a promise of sorts.

            It’s just a sketch, and the red colored pencil Baekhyun had scribbled over the heart is outside the lines. But Chanyeol forgives, because he knows Baekhyun was counting his seconds as he drew and the tremble in his hands didn’t allow for perfection.

                                    Chanyeol weeps, and the red spreads like blood on ivory skin.

                                                                                    I’m happy, you know.