-A Storm-

Short, but certainly not sweet.

 

The violence of the storm is frightening. Heavy clouds, painted in withered grey hues, whip across the sky. Raindrops drumming against his forehead, a damp haired Chanyeol wraps his coat across his chest a little tighter.

 

The thundering stops for a hopeful moment, allowing Chanyeol a sliver of time to hop nimbly between hardened tree roots. As the rain resumes, filling the air with a wistful petrichor, the man dodges underneath a tree with bark dark enough to rival ebony. Gangly limb curl as far around the tree as they can reach, seeking a strange comfort against the thunder claps that  fill his ears.

 

Exhaustion's fingers glide across Chanyeol's eyelids, laying them down across reddened eyes. Chanyeol sinks to the ground, slowly, submissively. What rain makes its way through the branches of the spiraling tree dots Chanyeol's face in an array of rosy droplets. As he sleeps, Chanyeol's drying tears are mixed with and revived by the rain. Tired, splotchy eyes rest for an eternity.

 

-Déjà Vu-

We've met before, once upon a dream.

 

 

It is deafeningly silent when Chanyeol wakes, the rain from before a faint drizzle that can barely be felt anymore against his cold skin. The sky has settled into a lavender colour, soft and apologetic in regard to its previous intensity.

 

Chanyeol wanders aimlessly, stumbling through the depths of the forest. Heartbeat pulsing in his ears, he begs for an opening, an exit, something.

 

It's menacing, the silence. Chanyeol's breath hitches, hot and panicked. It is cut short when the sound of a melody, faint and pretty, fills his ears. There aren't any words, just sugared vocals, sweet in Chanyeol's ears.

 

The voice guides him, fuelling his curiosity until he arrives to a field as wide as the eye can see. And then, the man with the voice of an angel comes to sight.

 

Chanyeol knows him. His name is Baekhyun.

 

 

-It's Cold-

How bitter indeed, the wind nipping at our cheeks.

 

The first time they'd met, it was snowing. The air smelled of it; of cold and snowflakes. But the cold bit Chanyeol's skin, tearing it's way to his bones in an attempt to rid him of any warmth he held in his body. Blood frozen and muscles weakening, he'd fallen. It was like a paralysis that Chanyeol couldn't escape. Death was leaning over him, ready to collect him, to leave his body buried and forgotten. But a sudden warmth had enveloped him, pleasant against his frosted skin.

 

"Stranger," he'd whispered, leaning so close to Chanyeol that his curly brown bangs glided against his cheek. "What brings you here?" Chanyeol hadn't the strength to answer. Nonetheless, he'd let his long fingers slip into those of the stranger, fighting himself to standing.

 

"I'm lost." he'd sputtered, weakness in inklings across his words. The stranger nodded in understanding. In silence, they trudged through the snow, arriving what seemed like hours later to a cottage.

 

"By the way," the stranger mumbled, facing Chanyeol to adjust the shawl now trailing in the snow. "My name is Baekhyun." That was the first time they'd been introduced to one another.

 

The cottage was miniscule, fit for such a small man. Tiny candles lined the shelves, windowsills, walls. Paper cranes were laid in clusters around the room. Baekhyun guided him to a seat at a wooden table in the corner of the cottage.

 

"Drink this," he'd whispered gently, holding a cup to Chanyeol's mouth. Baekhyun coaxed the beverage past Chanyeol's lips, letting what tasted like a berry tea trickle down the man's hoarse throat.

 

"Thank you." Chanyeol finally managed to choke out. Baekhyun had just smiled sloppily, sideways and happy. Adjusting his robes, Baekhyun slid into the copper coloured chair beside Chanyeol's.

 

"You're welcome." he chuckled, drumming his fingers faintly across Chanyeol's eyelids that were forced closed by his touch.

 

After that, Chanyeol's first acquaintances with Baekhyun were over.

 

 

 

 

-Honey-

Found in jarfuls of happiness.

 

 

The second time they'd met, Chanyeol had found himself covered in honey. Stuck lightly to the forest ground, he'd stood, disgusted, and ran his hands down his arms. The honey dripped through every curve of Chanyeol's being, inexplicable because there wasn't any other honey in sight.

 

"Chanyeol!" a familiar voice had exclaimed from somewhere behind him. Turning around rapidly, Chanyeol found himself facing Baekhyun. The man's hair was shorter then, bangs tickling his forehead and revealing his eyebrows. His robes were stripped away, replaced by a light tunic that hung just below his knees.

 

"B-Baekhyun, what am I doing here again?" Chanyeol asked, voice painted with splotches of panic prominent in his every syllable.

 

"That's not important. What happened to you?" Baekhyun brushed off Chanyeol's question, instead observing his body bemusedly.

 

"I don't know." Chanyeol had muttered helplessly, running his eyes down his pathetic form, which was drenched completely. Baekhyun raised a brow, poking a finger in the golden liquid and then bringing it to his lips.

 

"Honey," he'd noted. His finger returned to graze against Chanyeol's forearm.

 

"Good honey at that!" Baekhyun decided happily. Chanyeol was silent all the while.

 

"Come with me," Baekhyun had ordered, grabbing Chanyeol's large fingers despite the sticky state they were in. Through brambles and bushes, the two had arrived at a lake, an oversized pond, really.

 

"Am I supposed to get in there?" Chanyeol asked shyly. Letting out a laugh, Baekhyun managed a small 'not yet' before crouching down to rummage through his satchel. Miraculously, a jar large enough to fit a human head emerged from the bag,  which was no bigger than Chanyeol's palm.

 

"This honey could come in handy. Do you mind if I-" Baekhyun asked, reaching first for Chanyeol's right arm. Quickly as he could, Baekhyun grazed his hands across Chanyeol's body, letting the excess honey trickle into his jar.

 

"Thank you," Baekhyun smiled, "and now you can go in the water to wash off. You can give me your clothes and I'll manage with them." Red in the cheeks, but somehow without protest, Chanyeol crawled into the pond. Once sufficiently deep, he peeled the soaking clothing off his body, tossing  his garments in Baekhyun's direction. Silently, both worked to get rid of the honey.

 

"B-Baekhyun?" Chanyeol asked, wrapping his arms around his shoulders in a shiver. "What do I wear now?" Baekhyun pondered this for a moment, delving back into his satchel. Pulling out a tunic twin to his, Baekhyun gestured for Chanyeol to come over.

 

"Don't be shy, come and try this on!" Baekhyun coaxed at Chanyeol who sat perplexed in the muddled water of the pond. Finally, the biting cold water and desire for clothing overcame him and he paddled his way ashore. Eyes averted, a shivering Chanyeol slipped his way into the tunic.

 

"It's a bit short at the knees, but I guess it'll have to do!" Baekhyun had laughed, slinging Chanyeol's soaking, but thankfully clean clothing over a tree branch. The two sank down to the ground. Chanyeol had appreciated the sensation of the careless grass along his bare legs. Baekhyun adjusted his position, revealing in the process his bruising knees, splotched with dirt like ink blots.

 

"Baekhyun, did this happen when you were kneeling at the pond? I'm so sorry, Baekhyun you shouldn't ha-" Baekhyun cut Chanyeol off with a bright splotch of laughter.

 

"No bother. Nothing a little honey can't fix. Open up!" A thin finger shoved its way past Chanyeol's lips. Every taste bud in his mouth marvelled at the sickly sweet goo swirling past his teeth and cheeks.

 

"Honey," Baekhyun began, a droplet of honey off his palm, "is a synonym for happiness." Chanyeol only nodded at the time, not needing to say anything as he took another swivel of honey from the jar.

 

Not much was left to remember after that, other than the sensation of sleep creeping in, and what might have been the taste of Baekhyun's lips against Chanyeol's own.

 

-The Present-

The only thing that is real for certain.

 

Now Chanyeol stares across the field, relieved at familiarity, which has been so far us until now that it might as well have not existed.

 

"Baekhyun!" he shouts with a chirp and a crack as he breaks into a run across the field. He doesn't even mind how tired he is, joy flooding him with something similar to energy. Baekhyun doesn't say anything until Chanyeol approaches, offering a smile instead.

 

"Did you get lost again?" Baekhyun asks gently, staring into the fire of his candle.

 

"Yeah," Chanyeol replies in a pant, sitting beside Baekhyun. He takes note at the pile of coloured paper beside the small man.

 

"I expected as much." Baekhyun offers a dry chuckle. "I'm glad you found me though." In silence, Baekhyun selects a pasty yellow sheet from his pile.

 

Pondering aloud, Chanyeol asks a simple "What are you doing?"

 

"Making paper cranes." Baekhyun says, pressing his fingers across a fold in the paper. "It's my favourite thing to do." Once the bird is done, bright and crisp, Baekhyun extends a hand and waits. Miraculously, the crane's wings flicker, and it pushes off Baekhyun's palm. Chanyeol watches the bird fly bright and young against the lilac sky. It makes its way back to the ground.

 

"Another good bird." Baekhyun smiles, satisfied. He proceeds to make another, using a pink paper this time.

 

"Go on." Baekhyun's voice ghosts across the tip of the bird's wing. The bird pushes off, and flies off leaving Chanyeol unsettled as he watches it dip and stutter.

 

"Oh no," Baekhyun mutters. He awaits the crane's arrival. When it lands in his hand, he is lightly, gliding a dainty finger across the bird's twitching wing.

 

"What's wrong with it?" Chanyeol asks, staring at the shuddering crane.

 

"This one's no good. His wings are all wrong." Baekhyun mutters. Chanyeol's eyes widen as he watches Baekhyun, who gives the bird a pitiful look, hold the crane above the candle.

 

"What are you doing?!" Chanyeol shouts staring at the burning paper.

 

"I can't keep the broken ones, Chanyeol." Baekhyun ghosts as he tosses the crumpled remains, now ashen with a few remaining sparks, into a pile of burn papers. "It would've been in pain for as long as it's paper would hold." Chanyeol says nothing more as Baekhyun makes another crane.

 

"Can I ask you a question?" he finally says as he watches the new crane take flight. Baekhyun turns to face him.

 

"Where is this place? And why do I never remember how I got here, how I left?" Chanyeol stares into the palms of his hands. Baekhyun lets out a sigh that leaves his lips with a small puff of breath.

 

"Chanyeol, you're dreaming." he says almost bitterly. It takes Chanyeol a moment to process, confused as to how this could be a dream. After all, the lavender smell in the air and the sensation of the candle's warmth near his knee seem all too real.

 

"What do you mean? Are you saying…" Chanyeol swallows a chalky breath, "that you aren't real?" Baekhyun nods, and in that second, Chanyeol catches in his gaze the tear that falls out of Baekhyun's eyelids and into the fabric of his shawl.

 

"I'm not real." Baekhyun reiterates solemnly. "You've made me up."

 

"So then who am I?" asks Chanyeol, who grabs Baekhyun's icy cold hand into his own.

 

"Well," Baekhyun begins, rubbing circles into Chanyeol's palms, "you're an engineer. You've always been precise and creative. You've got a wife." Baekhyun is silent for a moment.

 

"But you don't love her." Chanyeol's own eyes are splotched with tears now. He exhales shakily.

 

"Your parents wanted you to marry her. She's pregnant now. You're expecting a child mid-November." It is this statement that hurts Chanyeol most. A sober  slips through his lips.

 

"Don’t worry, dear Chanyeol." Baekhyun almost smiles. "You won't remember any of this when you will awaken."

 

"I want to though! I want to stay here forever." Chanyeol cries into Baekhyun's shoulder.

 

"You can't, Chanyeol. You just can't." Baekhyun is crying now too, voice wavering with each word. For a while they sit silently, snivelling an awful lot.

 

"It's almost time for you to wake up, Chanyeol." Baekhyun coos.

 

"Please Baekhyun, don't let me leave you." Chanyeol says, grasping at Baekhyun's shawl.

 

"I can't do that, Yeol." Baekhyun says numbly, acceptingly. Chanyeol glances past the treetops, at the rising sun. He savours his last moments of bliss in silence.

 

"Wait," Baekhyun begins, taking up a sheet of paper, "how about this?" He pulls a quill out of his satchel, scratching some words across the yellow hues sheet. Finishing with a fold to make a crane, Baekhyun hands the paper to Chanyeol.

 

"Put this in your pocket. Perhaps when you wake up, this will come back to you." Chanyeol can only nod before Baekhyun gives him a tired smile and traces a hand across his eyes.

 

    -Morning-                

  A new day is born.

 

A whistle like the wind awakes Chanyeol. Afraid for a second, he chuckles at the realization of the sound coming from the coffee pot.

 

"Yeol!" yells a woman  with a head of black hair, visible in the doorway to the kitchen.

 

"Morning," he mumbles, brushing tangled bangs out of his face. Standing, surprise pokes at him when he notices the paper crane fallen face down before him. He picks it up, fidling with it as he stumbles into the kitchen. Finally he unfolds it, curiously enough to find a note within.

 

"Meet me again, under our lilac sky. - Baekhyun."

 

It doesn't mean much to Chanyeol, who frowns, unsettled, and folds the crane back up again. Without a glance, he tosses it to the garbage can beside him. The crane falls into the trash bitterly.

         

Worlds away, a sob escapes Baekhyun, who lines cranes up on his bedside shelf.