Sorry, short chapter, guys!

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2177. The Day Kris Collapsed

                Lately, Chanyeol had been feeling too heavy, too sore, too different.  He shrugged it off and continued on as if he was just fine, as if he didn’t feel the pierces anymore.  It stung harder each time.

               Each time his shoulder brushed against Kris’s.  Each time they locked eyes.  Each time they were a little too nervous, a little too aware of one another, a little too close.

                There had been little words.  An “I’m fine,” a “yeah, I’ll be there,” an “okay, sure” peppered throughout their lives.  It was torturous, but Chanyeol didn’t let it faze him, and Kris was left wondering what he was doing wrong, how he was supposed to keep his promise to Suho.

                Baekhyun and Chanyeol were on good terms, small smiles here and there gradually building up to their previous level of friendliness.  Baekhyun flinched when he felt a much too familiar hand on his shoulder, but Chanyeol would retract immediately, and Baekhyun would apologize and say that he didn’t mean to, that it was fine.  They were fine.  Everything was fine.

                Swift limbs and sharp movements.  Drops of sweat and labored breaths.  Exhausted boys and recycled air.

                “Again!” yelled EXO’s choreographer.  They obeyed as the track played back and assumed position.

                Three minutes in, Kris felt his arms grow limp, his vision bleary.  He blinked hard and flipped the hair out of his eyes.  Push.  One more minute.  He tried to dance with more effort, to breathe harder, to hit the moves more sharply, but to the others he looked a jumbled mess.  They carried his weight, worked themselves into a force of synchronization.  It only made him dizzier, slower, pained.  Again, he blinked forcefully, but he couldn’t push through the clouds in his eyes, losing his footing as his legs folded beneath him, his eyelids closing, his mind shutting off.

                Chanyeol, positioned beside him, was the first to react when he saw the man fall from the corner of his eye.  His eyes widened and he scrambled to reach out and catch Kris before he could suffer damage from the hardwood floor.

                With the taller man in his arms, he shook him to regain consciousness.  “Hyung.  Hyung, wake up, come on.”

                The others rushed to his side, taking a fallen Kris into their hands, taking him into the cooler hall, laying him out on the couch.  And as Chanyeol watched, he felt it, felt the piercing.  Felt it drill deeper, felt it burrow into his chest until he was gasping for breath, face scrunched in agony.

                They splashed ice water onto Kris’s face, and with an inhale, he sat up, groaning as he clutched at his head, and everyone broke into relieved smiles.  Chanyeol shoved past the members and threw his arms around him, dug his nails into Kris’s back, breathed in his scent, held on tighter when Kris’s arms surrounded his waist in response.  He was glad that Kris was awake and was simply in need of a drink of water and a good night’s sleep.  But he was afraid of himself.  Afraid to be so relieved.  Afraid to be immersed into everything he had fought so hard to keep himself from for the past year.  Afraid to still feel the same as when he had left off.

                Afraid to feel so intensely again.

                To be hopelessly in love.