Summary/Warnings: Baekhyun makes music that brings them home.

The strings of the violin were the only thing that kept him going, the only thing that sang to him in his darkest hour. He would close his eyes and immerse himself in the soulful music, dreaming of a new and better age. Even if he had to live in an intricately woven lie, that would not have mattered, because he escaped from the reality with his music.

He didn’t exactly see himself as a musician, but the music that he created bled into the core of his being. At certain hours it controlled him, taking on a life of its own. He acted out stories with his music—a frenzied dance that seemed to echo the irony of life.

His violin was the one thing he used to drown out the cacophony of everyday life, for even when the light shone on him from every angle imaginable, and even when the cool night breeze caressed his skin like a tender kiss, it was never enough. Perhaps it was the shroud that had grown and festered like a thick veil over his heart, for he never seemed to be able to feel properly again.

It had crept up on him so suddenly, so unexpectedly, he never saw it coming. With an endless expanse of time stretched out infinitely before him, the unoccupied spaces in his mind needed something to do. A pity they slowly sunk into a dark abyss instead of welcoming the endless well of hopeful optimism. A pity that they had to trap him in a crippling state of inertia.

To forget what one used to love, to abandon what had once allowed the feverish blood of passion to run in his veins—that stripped him of all vestiges of his once-innocent soul. Hollowed out, empty, and barely gasping for air, Baekhyun was no more.

He felt like a shell floating in the wind, passing and flowing wherever it deigned to take him, not knowing what kind of future he was headed towards. Or at least, that was how he felt before he met him.

Like the shadowy veil over his heart, Park Chanyeol appeared in his life without a single warning. He was so bright and so very blinding to look at—just like the life-giving sun that had been hanging in the sky since the beginning of time.

Chanyeol always joked that he was older than time itself, that he had witnessed the creation of the sun and the stars before the earth was even complete. Disregarding the veracity of Chanyeol’s frivolous words, Baekhyun hovered around him like a moth drawn hopelessly to a brilliant flame, because for the longest time in a while, Baekhyun felt something.

Baekhyun felt something whenever Chanyeol called his name with the tenderness of a sweet spring day, felt something when Chanyeol wrapped him in his arms like a soft blanket. Baekhyun felt something whenever Chanyeol listened to him play his violin, felt something when Chanyeol would kiss him right after to praise him for a job well done.

Chanyeol loved his music. Chanyeol loved the broken musician in Baekhyun’s soul, making sure to pay homage to his genius every single night. With their bodies moving in tandem with each other, Chanyeol would whisper sweet nothings in his ear, mumbling his ‘I love yous’ with every heaving breath.

Baekhyun loved the sensual music that they made together.