It’s some goddamned tragedy.

Yixing is dancing. A lithe frame twisting and locking, so powerfully and gracefully, much like a ballet dancer, but without all the glitter and formal training. Scratch that. He moves in his own special way. Pale, supple skin smoothed over lean muscles. Precise control. He holds his arms firmly and steadily, as he brings his outstretched leg back to help him stand straight. Fingers seem like feathers, small and extended. Solid and delicate, much like a piano player’s. Well, Yixing is a pianist after all. An indescribable feeling bubbles inside just watching. Lidded eyes stare intensely at the mirror critiquing every move harshly, but nothing breaks the silence of the booming bass drum and synths. His mouth opens slightly and a pink tongue slips out to wet his dry lips almost sensually, as if it was choreographed for this moment. Heart beats faster and palms get sweatier. Sweat dribbles down from ashy blonde hair, and all of a sudden it’s hard to breathe.

Kris Wu is in love with Zhang Yixing, and it’s a goddamn tragedy he is.

Light filters in through the windows onto soft linens. The warm rays tickle his face pleasantly, and he scrunches his eyes tightly before slowly opening them. His eyelashes flutter like butterflies, and he wonders if this is the right reality. The one where he loves Yixing and Yixing loves him back. He prays it is.

He sits up and makes sense of his blurry surroundings. A few more blinks and the crashing waves are gone from his sight. That bright smile and crescent eyes slip away like the sands of time. Those gentle hands tangling themselves in his black locks, as their lips mould into a saccharine kiss dotted by the salty air around them. The sun’s last rays gracing their sun-kissed skin; Kris knows now he’s no longer dreaming. His heart plummets and he flings his covers off and trudges to the bathroom to wash up.

It doesn't help that they live next to each other. Every morning at exactly 7:30AM they open their doors to greet each other before heading down the hallway to the elevator. A cute dimple on his cheek, as Yixing talks about his day at the studio. Kris's heart swells seeing the love in the latter's eyes and he wishes those eyes would look at him with the same amount of passion, but there's someone else.

There's always someone else.