01.

Once upon a time there was a boy who loved a girl, and her laughter was a question he wanted to spend his whole life answering.

Her name was Im Yoona and she reminded him very much of sunshine and spring — warm and beautiful. 

Sehun was a man of impossible aspirations and inspirations. He wanted things like fairy tales, magic and miracles that he never once did believe in, and he dreamt of different rainbow unicorns idly wandering beneath the pastel sky. Those things were unrealistic, delusional and impossible, but that was all he was made up of.

He leaned against the railing and casually shoved his hands into the pockets of his torn jeans. As the cruel wind hit him sharply in the face, he reminded himself that it wasn't exactly cold even when his nose was already bitten red from the winter's freezing air. 

The first day of winter was always colder for Sehun.

What was he still expecting, he scoffed at himself bitterly. He would probably never ever admit that he was the pathetic one who didn't want to move on or he was waiting for someone whom he knew would never come. 

It was dark when he met her, the clouds an ominous grey, but somehow he could only recall her bubbly, vibrant yellow and carefree smile.

She stretched her hand out, her eyes fixed on the grey sky overhead, and he could only stare at the white snow landing on her palms gently. He noticed that her white laced dress was damp and the cold was biting her pale skin but still she held the brightest smile. He pretended to take no interest in the girl because it seemed like she didn't care very much about him either. 

They were only three feet apart from each other, but he thought that she was worlds apart from him. He wanted to ask her what she was doing there when winter was just too cold for staying out, and he had a dozen of sentences mounted at the tip of his tongue, but not a word seemed to slip from his lips. He stayed quiet the rest of the time and stared anyway.  

He realized that it didn't really matter which season it was, because colours were colours, and sometimes, there would be bright yellow in winter and misty white in spring and seasons just can't control that.  

He brought a cigarette to his lips, taking in the taste of tobacco slowly and watched the traces of white left behind. A cigarette in the winter always calmed his nerves, always soothed the pain. He watched the smoke curl up in waves and as it disappeared into thin air, he pretended he knew what was at the end of the winter when he didn't. 

The truth was, Oh Sehun was a ed up hypocrite.

02.

People said she was a lost soul, finding something like a direction or sign, but she wasn't lost.

She was just waiting for someone, too.

The winter sky above them was a palette of colours — a mixture of sky blue, pale lavender, bursting yellow and bright amber, and everything was just breath-taking. He swept his gaze across before his orbs wandered back to her and met her eyes, that were probably the best feature. They were large and wide, a dark shade of brown that he liked in girls and made her look innocent. He thought she resembled a deer, only much more prettier than that. 

When she looked at him with her doe-like eyes and flashed him one of her brightest smiles, there was a warm and fuzzy feeling bubbling inside of him and he didn't know if he liked or disliked it. But he was certain he didn't mind though. It was something about the curve on her lips, the crinkle of her eyes, and the way her two dimples appeared on her rosy pink cheeks — how his heart sped up and dropped to his feet. 

Perhaps, it was the lack of words, the inaudible silence that fitted them together. He understood the gleam of her eyes and the curve of her lips and the words that hung in the air. They were perfect for each other, Sehun thought. He had never felt so complete in his life before. 

His hands naturally reached out for her, not going to let go, never going to let go. But in that moment, he jerked away. Everything was almost fine, except Sehun was not. The smile he gave was now bitter, broken and beaten. 

He realized that his fingers, tainted by nicotine, rage and anguish, should never touch something as pure and vulnerable as her. 

She was never his missing piece of puzzle of his heart because his heart was already torn and ripped apart. It was a broken piece that existed on its own. He could never be complete. His hand shook and he felt a crack around his heavy chest. He thought somewhere in there must be the sound of his own heart breaking, a clean tinkling sound, but he didn't exactly know if he had one himself. 

He took a deep breath before he lighted up a cigarette and his throat was filled with smoke, a familiar feeling he was used to. Part of him knew he was but a broken soul and he was barely hanging onto the reality of things. But he could never bring himself to admit how ed up he actually was.  

He closed his eyes and continued to in breaths of intoxicated air, with flames and smoke blooming in his lungs and creating magnificent fireworks confined within the intense walls of his organs.

The world felt light on his feet.

03.

Yoona was there — and always been.

That glimpse of hope, however, didn’t last long enough for Sehun to believe in.

When the night declined to a obscurer chasm, there was something achingly familiar about the way the sky was darkened in the absence of the stars and moon, and how the dim lampposts made the falling cherry petals look uncanny and pale.

He took out a pack of cigarettes with his shaky hands and pressed one to his lips. Lighted it up. Exhaled the smoke. He was still seeing grey, still shaking, still on his way to self-destruction.  

Yoona was, undoubtedly, still entrancingly beautiful. Her black tresses rippled down her back like a dark, glimmering waterfall. Don’t torture yourself, she turned to say to him, her voice came surprisingly strong.

His face was now flushed red, his shoulders shaking uncontrollably, and his lean body curved, trembling as if he was about to break. He was biting his bruised and bleeding lips to numb himself from the agonizing pain, the incessant torment. It was suffocating, he couldn’t breathe but he couldn't let go.

Don’t go, his cracked voice just as soft as a whisper, almost sounded like a plea racked with probably a hundred of emotions he couldn’t list out as he bit back those tears that threatened to spill out. Sehun’s whimpers were loud, louder than he had have ever been. 

He held her hand in his, squeezing it reassuringly, as if reminding them of the broken promises they couldn’t keep. He scoffed at his own pathetic self, as his lungs burned from coughing and the lack of oxygen.

He needed to stop, stop hurting himself, stop holding on already crushed hope, stop smoking, stop hanging onto her, and stop everything, just stop, stop, Sehun.

Flicked the lighter again. The light that burned as if to remind him of the darkness that surrounded them. He was too wrecked to bring himself together. She just cracked a smile (as if asking how do you live in fear all the time?), her eyes forming two crescents and that was all he got before she disappeared out of his life, again and forever.

He was in too much pain to answer, but he kind of agreed. 

Sehun closed his eyes, but he didn’t pray, because he didn’t know how to. He didn’t feel the hot liquid streaming down his face now, didn’t realize he was already crying too. 

04.

It was getting hard to breathe — all Sehun ever wanted was Yoona, Yoona and Yoona. 

He realized he had no more hearts for her to break.