» The color pur·ple has a variety of effects on the mind and body, including uplifting spirits, calming the mind and nerves, enhancing the sacred, creating feelings of spirituality, increasing nurturing tendencies and sensitivity, and encouraging imagination and creativity. «

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Have you ever experienced a situation were your mind went blank? Were your breathe hitched, your heart stumbled and your blood stopped running. Turned cold and made you shiver?

Everyone has, everyone knows, that's what Junmyeon is aware of. Sure of.
With every beat his heart does and with ever breath his lungs tremble under, he's highly aware that everyone would understand that feel. Everyone but him.

Pale hands buried in the thin pockets his parka holds, his gaze locked with the starts above them. All of them twinkling with an immense beauty, yet all of them were so unique, decorating a black sky; stealing away the fear a midnight blanket usually would create. Lightening something so mighty with an power uncontrollably.

His lips quirked up, the pink flesh dry and chapped from the cold air fall brought, together with wind that played with his hair. Color matching the dark blanket above him, thick and unruly. His eyes continued to travel, while his brown eyes searched; for everything and nothing at all.

He breathed.

The night was full of impressions; smells, that would linger , tastes that would make him forget and beauty that could make him see. And yet none if it came through.

It was a smile of agony that played his lips, formed his face nearly new, as his body sank deeper into the bench he had found his place on. What do you, when you know that things are beautiful? In all their beings, all their facets, but you can't lay a finger on it.

Joonmyeon never understood. He never understood the smiles, the laughter, the shine in someone's eyes. He never understood how people could enjoy being close to someone, who probably would let them shatter in a matter of seconds. Turning them into pile of shattered glass, where even theirself would get cut on. He wasn't able to see the beauty, people saw in colors, couldn't understand their talks about love. Devotion. Adoration.

What does it feels like?

Being held. Cared for.

Loved.

Maybe he wasn't even sure if he wanted to know. It was like wanting to know if a jump infront of a train would hurt the same,as they said. Was it worth it?

Was feeling, seeing and loving worth more than a color blind numbness, clawing at his chest.

Hungry, yet so lazy.

Joonmyeon just didn't understand.

Bathing in the light of moon and stars, he thought about them as gods and goddesses; and if they were, he would be showered in faith by now.

 

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He wasn't even sure why fall was his season of choice.

Colorful leaves he couldn't appreciate

Cool winds he couldn't shiver under.

Rainy days he couldn't suffer with.

Tea with a taste his body wouldn't accept.

The hood of his parka pulled over his, his feet shuffled over dry leaves, the sound drowning under hundreds of other feet, doing the exact same. Yet, all he could focus on were his own steps. His own breathing, sounding ragged, as he steps up the stone increments, grey asphalt, covered in colors of blood and tears, sunset and sunshine. A composition of opposites and probably beautiful for the human eyes to see.

Ink black head lowered, pale fingers clutching around the strap of his back, his feet continued, sounds even. A rhythmic supplement to the steady beating of his heart. It wasn't like he had anyone to watch out for; he was running late, his body too deep in a too late sleep. Yet, even though he socialized, he wouldn't want anyone to be here yet. Nor ever.

A labyrinth of floors, walls grey as the nightsky, yet without starts to save them. Doorframes, supposed to opening, staying closed instead, with their locks blocked. Keys long forgotten.

His lecture behind one of them; plain words spoken, to people who just wrote them down, without asking. Criticizing. And him, watching, learning more of humanity to make him step back. Pull the curtains closer around his body, and the chains around his heart with stronger chains.

Couples crossed his way, bodies closed, smiles decorating faces. Was that what they called beauty? Probably. Hands interwined, fingers brushing each other and eyes watching movements no one else could see. Even he couldn't see.

Was ist worth to desire a connection like this?

The question stuck to his mind, painted the inside of his brain in layers of black and white, marks of questions and doubts placed over each other. His thoughts wandered, while his body moved. Actions, completely unaffected from each other, even if they played that close to each other.

Cold finger met a cold handle, a door opening soundless, with a mute body slipping into the warm room. Filled with people, the smell of dry heaters and coffee, an atmosphere, coated with a mixture between boredom and exhaustion. Seeping into him with force, clutching to his lungs, before his body slides into the last row, the wood his lower parts meet, squeaking and drawing attention to him he wasn't fond of in the first place.

They talked to him, thought he was funny, whenever they were unable to handle his view of things; declined him as a little weird and introverted. No more, no less. Seeing what their eyes wanted to show them, lying if necessary, to protect. To make things more beautiful then they actually were.

Was it worth it?

A lie?

The first thing that hit him was a voice. Strained, yet coated in a sweet manner, a little rough, but softer than satin. His yes shot up, attention and body one for the first time in a while. A twitch in his fingertips. A small creasing of his forehead.

And the second he locked eyes with the owner of a voice that made him think in a way far away from his plain grey, he felt like looking into the nightsky once again. Black orbs, dark and endless, yet sparkling with an intensity of everything and nothing at all. Miles away, yet only a few meters away. The sight hit him with full force. Jetblack hair, strands falling into a face, sculpted with fingers that a human couldn't own.

Lips the colors of leaves, slim shoulders claded in purple, hips and thighs hugged from jeans, the same color as his hair and swirls of emotions dancing around his silhouette, a sea of colors in a world of greys and black, turning the air warm, the atmosphere lively.
Lips moved, but his ears drowned in the sound of his heart pounding, running; living. A little unstable, but it was there. The shadows, the deepths, black, white, grey, his mind hid disappeared, leaving a lilac sky and stealing away everything that could be verbalized. Left was a pile of emotions, tangled, as the colors around the man were his eyes laid on. His lunges hurt; the lack of air dizzying his body, thorny tendrils wrapping around each wing, with a hurting, yet so lovely feeling.

He was stunned. Shocked.

Zhang Yixing. A name, colored in colors of daylight, yet with hidden shadows, added to a beauty so unbelievable real that his eyes hurt.

Zhang Yixing. The name run on repeat, the story behind it hidden under white pages his finger wanted to turn, caress. A wish his mind never wished for. A move his heart never made. And a pull that made him feel a soul ling forgotten hidden behind the cage of his ribs.

"Zhang Yixing." his lips formed, but no words were heard, no breathe visible. Muscles tense, eyes fixated and mouth dry.

It took him seconds, maybe even minutes to notice. His inner clock stopped, the hands staying still with a shiver eternity, while somewhere in his chest a new clockwork started ticking; irregular, but shivering, every movement a melody of its own.

The whole room stared. Orbs, all the same plain brown, watching the mute exchange, a tension in the air that was staggered with a meaning none of them could lay a finger on. But everyone understood 

Something deep happened the second the new docent and the silent introvert crossed their gazes.

For the first time, even Junmyeon did.

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If the storm inside his chest, clawing at his ribs like a wild animal, making him feel like dying, but so alive at the same time, was the thing, the book rode about and the things, the eyes of others told, then yes.
It was worth it, a disguised lie, or not. The feeling was so scary, yet so utterly perfect, it made his body shiver. Feelings he couldn't name, splashed with colors and images instead. From the view of a nightsky, plastered with life lightening stars, to the soft red of velvety rosepetals, dropping between his fingers and snow falling in a way, he never understood. Final, soft and beautiful.
Beauty. Beauty in so many things, but visible through a man he never met before, only. Absurd, but not deniable. Incredibly, but real. So real, that ever cell inside his body screamed for it, after missing so much, now desiring for even more.

If that's what it feels like to fall, it doesn't include shattering at all. No harm, no broken fragement, that could draw blood.
Instead it was warmth that welcomed him, surrounded him. Hugged him in a way that made a collision with the ground impossible. Warmth and hand that clasped his heart, free from any chains with a mute promise to take care of it now; no matter what. No matter when. No more, no less.

His mind was blank; for new things to create.

His breathe hitched; to break the trails that clutched there to long.

His heart stumbled; into the hands of a male, without hesitation.

And his blood stopped running; for a second, before it continues, running a new clock, a new part.

Junmyeon finally understood.

So did Yixing, his face wearing an expression similar to his; leaving the pale male not alone with his feelings.

Never alone again, at all.

 

 

 

 

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A/N Thank you for bringing back my inspiration and so much more.