Crash

Luhan/Oc (Oneshot)

 

For Luhan, life was a series of struggles.

Of scraped elbows and knees, of stubbed toes.

Of screams, and punches landed against tender ribs, and hair being pulled.

 

He wondered why these people simply couldn't leave him alone.

 

For HaNa, life was a drill of constant demands.

Of violin and piano practices, and town cars with personal drivers, of mornings drinking earl grey tea on the veranda.

Of untouched school work sitting idly on mahogany desks, and endless dinner parties.

 

Kang HaNa wants to be like a normal girl

 

 

They're two people from completely different worlds.

 

She's driven to university each day in a Rolls-Royce, while Luhan rides his bicycle to school.

HaNa dresses in name brands and million-won shoes, while he wears hand-me-downs from his brother and father.

She's tutored by the country's best, while Luhan barely scrapes by with a D- in English.

 

But, life is made of chance happenings. Coincidence. Sheer happenstance.

 

The collision that brings them together is implicated by the Chinese boy hopping onto his bike in an attempt to escape from his tormentors.

It was pure luck that HaNa happened to be coming down the front steps of the university, as he sped across the sidewalk, clipping her just as she stepped off the stairs.

The impact tore him completely off his bicycle, and sent him skidding across the ground, along with the pretty girl he'd hit by accident.

 

Luhan was sure to apologize like mad, as he pulled her onto her feet.

He knew who she was. The wealthy daughter of the CEO to Kang Incorporated.

 

He'd expected her to scold him, to look down on him, and treat him like filth, but instead she apologized.

She dusted him off and inspected his scrapes, offering to give him a ride home.

 

The next twenty minutes where spent beside her in the back seat of her car.

 

-----

 

"You're so clumsy, Lulu." HaNa tells him, as she pulls him up from the concrete outside of the new apartment he was helping her move into.

 

She gathers the spilled clothes, as he picks up the cardboard box and carries it inside.

 

"I can't believe they kicked you out." he voices, as she enters the apartment beside him.

 

Luhan places the box of clothes on top of the others.

A mixture of brown cardboard boxes covered in organizing stickers. Pink, hers. Blue, his.

It makes him smile.

 

"They didn't approve of us." she tells him with a smile, slipping her hand into his own, fingers intertwining and her engagement ring scratching against his flesh.

 

"But who cares." HaNa says, turning to face the taller man.

She looks up at his handsome face with a beautiful smile. It reminds Luhan of pearls.

 

"It's fine as long as we have each other."

 

And then her back collides with the wall, and his lips collide with hers.

Their life together is made of collisions. Of mouths colliding again and again, of hips bumping and jerking.

All of it tracing back to that day, three years before, when he'd collided with her on his bike.

 

-----

 

Two years later a single life becomes defined by the collision of a tiny, two door car into an SUV.

 

The smiles and laughter from just moments before are gone, and Luhan's head is spinning.

 

What happened?

 

His head hurts like mad, but he can't seem to lift his arm to touch it.

Red clouds one eye and Luhan realizes his head must be bleeding.

He tries again to move his arm, but to no avail. So instead he tries the other.

This time, he succeeds to wipe the blood dripping from a shallow gash on his forehead.

His other arm is broken.

 

It takes him a moment to remember that he wasn't the only person in the vehicle.

Luhan panics, his eyes flying over to the passenger side, where he looks for Hana.

 

She isn't there.

 

But, the telltale hole shattered in the windshield and the blood splattered across the dash is enough to indicate she'd been thrown from the car on impact.

 

He shouldn't move, he knows. He may injure himself more, but HaNa, his precious wife, is far more important.

 

 

In the distance he spots the twisted body of a familiar woman.

Just the look of her and he knows, she isn't going to make it.

 

Glass and blood paint the grey concrete around her, and she coughs.

Blood pooling in her lungs, as she tries to breathe.

 

Around them, witnesses and bystanders, begin to come to their aid. Someone is screaming to call an ambulance.

But, it doesn't matter. Luhan is sure that she's too far gone.

 

"Baby." He whimpers, pressing his hand over a gash across her side that is so deep he can practically see her ribs, trying to stop the bleeding.

 

HaNa cries out in protest, trying feebly to shake her head.

 

Luhan begins to cry.

This can't be happening. Not to them.

Why to them?

 

He tries his best to lay her flat, to move her without hurting her.

But, even the slightest touch makes her cry out in pain, "Lulu, please. I--"

 

"Shh--" he sobs, touching her cheek. "D-don't" he chokes.

 

"Don't speak." it's an order.

 

He wants her to breathe, to just hang on, "The ambulance is on it's way, baby."

 

And, in those waking moments building up to the end, HaNa's life flashes before her eyes, as she'd always been told it would.

 

She relives the moments, in forms of collisions, as Luhan kisses her for the final time.

 

She relives the day on the university steps, the skinned elbows, and the feverish kisses. Relives the warm nights, and the meeting of hips, relives packing the boxes, and making love. HaNa relives the wedding day, and breakfasts in bed.

 

Everything up until the moment, with Luhan's face fading into darkness, and the dying whisper of,

Don't leave me, HaNa. I love you.

 

Life is made of collisions, tiny meetings of perfection that end with a kiss.