Lips of an Angel

 

It's impossibly cold here. I can't help but shiver as I stand--barefooted-- in the centre of a cross road. The gravel beneath my feet is dark, uneven, and speckled with the white of gently falling snowflakes.

It hurts. I can't help but to flinch with every step I take; my lungs feel as though they are filled with ice blocks and water. My feet and eyes are heavier than lead, and small crimson droplets adorn the white flakes upon the earth as I continue to stumble down the street on my bare, bleeding feet.

Am I going home? I fall to my knees; I don't feel them anymore. And before my eyes, the snow just piles up like an angel's feathers. Far off in the distance, I see my dad, my mom, my older sister . . . I see them standing under warm sunlight, and on my hands and knees, I try to crawl to them.

They're impossibly far away . . . My limbs give way under me, and I feel my face land in the snow . . . but it is not cold. But rather, it was very warm and feather-like, and I hear voices calling me from behind my leaden body. The voices sounded further away than my family, but I found myself desperately wanting to find them.

Hyung . . . I find myself thinking of an unfamiliar face. Hyung, it hurts. Pain shoots through my body as I try to stand and turn to the direction of the voices that were calling me. Leeteuk-hyung . . . Images of an unfamilar face race through my mind like deer in the glen; fleeting. That unfamiliar face that reprimanded me often. That unfamiliar face that I once feared. That unfamiliar face that I enjoyed teasing. That agonizingly beautiful face with dark, sharp eyes and the lips of an angel. That unfamiliar face belonged to the person that was holding me with tears and blood streaming down his hollow, creamy white cheeks as he called my name. Hyung, it's cold out here. You should go inside before you catch a cold. Hyung, the one that dumped water on you earlier wasn't Eunhyuk-hyung or Donghae-hyung . . . Hyung, I'm scared, I'm tired. I'm really tired this time. Truly, I'm not joking around. Hyung, I . . .

 

"Ow!" I exclaim as my notebook is dropped on my chest. I blink a few times as daylight fills my vision. Wasn't it dark and snowing out just a moment ago? I blink a bit more as I take in my surroundings; pink sheets in the bunk next to mine, and a giant stuffed fish on the bunk on the third wall. I'm home?

"Where else would you be?" a voice asks somewhat sardonically as the edge of my bed dips as a weight is added to it. "Since you have the week off, I lifted your StarCraft ban, be grateful you evil maknae." A cold, thin hand ruffles my hair, and I shift slightly to see whose it is.

"I'm not evil," I say, grinning at the thin-shouldered, sandy-haired man next to me. "I'm the youngest, aren't I supposed to be cute?"

"Key phrase is 'supposed to be,'" Leeteuk replies. "But in actuality--"

"Die, aish . . . I lost!" I groan as my ships are rapidly shot down.

"--You're an irreplacable person to me," he says softly, ruffling my hair again.

"Hyung, you say something?" I look up just as Donghae-hyung peers down at my screen.

"Nope," he says, shrugging his shoulders and humming a nameless tune as he shuffles over to his bunk and stretches out on it. He rolls over, facing the wall and our room turns oddly quiet.

A cold feeling washes over me, but I opt to ignore it and continue my game. And that feeling doesn't go away, and I lose another round.

"Hyung, where's Sungmin-hyung?"

"Out," his muffled voice replies.

"I can see that. But where?"

"Paying his respects."

"Oh. " I decided not to push the subject further, since that cold feeling was getting sharper and more painful in my chest as I spoke with Donghae-hyung. It felt like a knife twisting over and over again; caught somewhere between my ribcage and my heart and forever trapped in there like some kind of sadistic torture.

 

Hyung, I'm scared! My heart races as I run down the dark streets. My blood is pounding in my ears and my lungs feel as though they are on fire as I run from a dark figure behind me.

Hyung, it hurts. I can't help but to flinch with every step I take. It feels as though there is a knife lodged somewhere between my ribcage and heart; piercing my lungs. 

Hyung . . . A familiar face flashes through my mind as I fall to my knees, watching pools of crimson fluid leave the wound in my chest.

But then I realize . . . I'm not the one that was stabbed by the assailant. The blood on my chest . . . The frail form in my arms . . .

"Jungsoo-hyung!"

 

"Hyung!" I cry out, waking up.

"Kyuhyun-ah?" a warm hand squeezes my shoulder and I can faintly make out Sungmin-hyung's shape and round, rabbit-like eyes.

"Sorry, hyung, bad dream," I say, staring into the darkness. I begin to rise and feel his hand on my arm again.

"You ok?"

"Yeah, I just need the bathroom."

He releases my arm and returns to his bunk, facing the wall. "If you want to talk about it, I'll listen."

"Thanks, hyung." Soundlessly, I shut the door behind me.

Once out in the common area, I head to the closet and hastily put on my sneakers and a black hoodie over my pajamas and left our apartment, heading up one flight of stairs to visit the hyungs on the upper floor.

Once there, I ring the doorbell multiple times before the grouchy insomniac with extremely disheveled hair answers the door.

"Do you have any idea what time it is?" Yesung-hyung growls. And then his expression suddenly softens. "Ah, sorry, Kyuhyun-ah." He steps aside and lets me in, seating himself on the floor. "Something wrong? Hyung will listen if you want to talk about it."

Thanks, Yesung-hyung . . . but I want--

"Kyuhyun-ah?" Ryeowook rubs his eyes with one hand while the other tightly holds a giraffe plushie. He glances at Yesung-hyung and plops down next to the older man, looking up at me and patting an empty space on the ground beside himself. "Sit, we'll listen if you want to talk about it."

And so I seated myself next to them, watching the two bicker about some small dorm matters one moment, then reading the name tags on each door the next:

        Heechul

       Kangin // Hankyung

       Yesung // Ryeowook

And my eyes linger over the last door:

        Leeteuk.

"--Kyuhyun?"

My attention returns to my friends as Ryeowook calls my name worriedly.

Yesung yawns, rising and stretching as he does so. His small hand squashes my hair and head down as he uses me to push himself completely off the ground. "Hyung is going back to sleep, don't stay up too late, kids." And he returns to his room, quietly shutting the door behind him.

"So, do you want to talk about it?" Ryeowook asks, looking after Yesung-hyung.

"It's nothing," I lie. "Just Donghae being too noisy for me to sleep."

Ryeowook his head off to one side, his eyes narrowed. He knows me too well to believe me whenever I lie. "If you say so. Just don't stay up too late, okay?" He rises and returns to the room as well, shutting the door with a slight click.

Again, my gaze settles on that door, and I walk over and open it, not bothering to turn on the lights since my eyes had already adjusted to the moonlight. I look around; it is surprisingly clean and in order. The pristine white sheets were folded and neatly stacked on the end of the bed with the pillows; it was as if no one had slept there for a long time. Nothing was bursting out of the dresser; everything inside was neatly folded; as if they were no longer used. The desktop was barren; as if no one sat there writing or thinking anymore. The books on the shelf were a bit dusty; as if they were abandoned and no one read them anymore.

I seat myself near the head board and nearly yelp when I hear a grunt and groggy voice calling my name.

"Kyuhyun-ah, get your big away from my face," Leeteuk mumbled. "You farted into my nose the last time you sat like that near me."

Hyung-- "I did not."

"You did, too."

Hyung, this a lie, right? "I did not."

"You did." He says, rolling over and ending our argument. He rolls over again, eyeing me.

"What?"

"Or maybe you didn't. Maybe it was Eunhyuk."

"Or maybe it was hyung."

He huffs, pouting with those beautiful lips. "I don't fart."

And I couldn't stop myself as I kissed my angel. Embarrassed, I tried to pull away, but he holds me in place, returning the kiss.

And I don't know why, but the tears won't stop rolling down my cheeks as my warm mouth maneuvers over his frigid lips.

"Kyuhyun, you're an irreplacable person to me. Hyung is sorry."

And I can feel that sadist's knife twisting around inside me again-- this time it was definitely in my heart-- as Leeteuk-hyung whispers this against my lips.

And in the morning, he's gone forever, and in his bed a single white feather remains.

 

END

20130923 - typo mania, Jaedelle thinks. Sorry if it .

Brief explanation of what happened (since I think it's a bit vague, sowwies >.<) : Kyuhyun was being chased by an unknown assailant with a knife and Leeteuk found him and shielded him, thus getting stabbed and died.