¤Exchanging Vows¤

“The room is an eerie mess of stern stares, piercing dilation of orbs and overall a muffled battlefield as Choi Minho and Lee Taemin exchange their vows rather 'interestingly'. Keeping a straight face in front of their Grandpa taking his last breaths and forcing the very same fate upon his grandsons is, let's just say, not helping. Taemin tries hard–way too hard to give half of a smile to the old man on his death bed; a kind of smile which screams 'look I am ending my life for you. You're welcome'. Minho on the other hand is shell-shocked. As they sit with their sides touching, Taemin swears he feels the log's temperature drop all the way down to the earth's core. He likes the thought of the log's entire existence down in earth's core though and holds back a cackle–partly because his mother throws him a distasteful look and the other part being the beginning of prayers and wishes thrown his way when he finishes up signing the document rather enthusiastically.  

Minho stiffens, looking around when he gets engulfed in a spine-breaking hug by his father. He tugs up a corner of his lips and chokes out a laugh, directed right at his fate. He stays still until he feels his father trying to pull away but they have had their share of trashing him and it is only fair he suffocates the man a little longer. When he does pull away, Hojin looks like his fair share of dead and steps away in a daze. Minho does not regret that look even an ounce, by the way. 

Great. Just great. 

He looks by his side and sees Lee Taemin–, Choi Taemin–beaming into the imported vase sitting on the table before their feet, a kind of telepathic connection with non-living things that Minho can never understand and honestly–he does not want to. Taemin can keep his weirdness to himself, he wants no share of aliens–Minho halts, the reality slapping him square in the face when he blinks for longer and it takes him all his masculinity to not return the contortion and mock on Taemin's face with a punch. He turns away, for better and lifts himself on his feet, disappearing out of the film-frame”

Choi Yeojung sits elegantly in the couch and touches her clothed heart at the event taking place on the TV screen. She looks up to the ceiling shortly, as if conveying some telepathic message to Choi Bulam for his 'good deed' before his death–Grandpa has to be spiderman for her to mouth praises up at the ceiling so casually–Taemin's face constricts at the sight, shuffling in from behind with his arms loaded with tea and buttered toasts. He ignores–tries his best to not gag and puke on the tea when he sees himself signing those cursed papers. 

“Grandma, your tea,” Taemin settles the tray before her and turns in an effort to escape the tape of his murder getting praised.

“Thank you, son,” Yeojung coos, having her eyes glued to the screen with glue-gun, probably. However, she does not stop with her sweet remarks even when she sees the clear discomfort on Taemin's face. “Bless your grandpa. He did a really good deed before leaving.” Taemin rolls his eyes way too loudly.

Yeah sure. May God bless his soul but this–this bull of a decision that grandma, mom and dad are so proud of and are practically hoola-hooping to, I will not, never forgive him. He flares his nose and turns on his heels. 

“Come, Taemin-ah.” Yeojung pipes in, patting an empty spot beside her. “Watch yourself exchanging vows on the TV with me.” 

Taemin puts on a bitter smile, bringing his fingers to his nape. No thanks, I'd rather pass watching this human pole early in the morning. With another roll of eyes, Taemin sluggishly turned away. Good, my entire day is ruined now that I've seen this of a face of your grandson. “Um no grandma, I am getting late for college so I'll...be going.”

“Did your exams end?" Yeojung looks over her shoulder at Taemin and if she wasn't rusty at sight, she swears she saw Taemin mouthing her words. She lets it pass, this time. 

“Next week, hopefully.”

“Good then you'll be free to start arrangements for the wedding”She grins from ear to ear and turns her attention back to the TV. Taemin sees this opportunity to scurry off and as soon as he steps away from the couch, his grandma is calling him again. “Oh and Taemin-ah!” He pivots about his spot in a rather constipated smile. “Feed the Australian parrots before you leave or Minho will be upset.”

Sure. I won't be surprised if this rusty shaolin master next asks me to wipe that pole's after he's done ting because– my life–I am his 'wife' apparently. Who the fricking fish even decided I was the girl in this?! 

With a lot of mental curses, a virtual punch here and there and feeding Minho's detached to piranhas, Taemin brightens up his clogged smile and nods away rather deviously. 

Taemin walks up to the little white cage hanging from a wire right before their lawn with his hands behind him and a killing smile evident on his face. He circles the little prison, raising eyebrows and chortling to himself over the genius of an idea that had decided to strike his brain. He halts his merry-go-round when he feels the world spinning around him; with the impy look now fainting, Taemin reminds himself of the plan and replaces it on his face, bringing up aimed fingers to the locks on the cage. 

Dareum skips into the balcony and his aimless steps are brought to a screeching stop when he looks down at his brother practically radiating dark aura around the parrots' cage. Within a flash, his phone was out to capture The breaking news. Unaware and in a prize-distribution ceremony of his victory, Taemin undoes the lock; watching with a contented smile as the parrots fly away. 

“Go go go! Fly away my dudes! Go live your life,” The lean male jerks the cage when a parrot, despite the open way, does not budge. “You too, the . Go live your life!” As soon as the last one was seen zooming out of the premises of their house, Taemin softly calls out. “Say hi to your friends in Australia f