poster by elly (aff, tumblr)

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genre: angsty-romance | infinite member(s): woohyun | length: one shot, 1801 words

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description:

Woohyun is incredibly beautiful; he shines, sweetly lets words of lies escape his lips, and knows how to love. But most of all, he is a mess.

Yet some people love him despite the growing weariness of his person.

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5

Woohyun.

He was a mess. He was good-looking, had beautiful eyes, a straight and pointy nose, lips that looked appealing every time you lowered your gaze to them, and a charming smile. But above all, he was a mess. He started his breaks with a cigarette in his mouth, his nights with uncontrollable crying and his days with dark circles around his eyes. He was scared of the world and the future, his remaining time and his lost childhood. He hated the smell of coffee, but he would walk into a cafe shop anyways. He hated the bitter taste smoking left behind, but he loved it anyways. He knew he was damaging his body, but he did it anyways. He was a mess, after all.

Woohyun liked summer as much as he loved winter, but he hated the sun as much as he disliked snow. During the cold days of the year, he would listen to summer hits because they reminded him of the happiness people would carry around with them, because they would take away his negative thoughts for at least the three to four minutes when the song was playing. And when the temperature rose, he would start waiting for new summer hits to come, new songs to play during winter, because Woohyun lived to exist in his own snow covered city.

He hated the feeling of his hands turning numb from the biting cold, or the feeling of his body sweating under the layers of clothes when he entered a heated room. He hated how the sky darkened a few hours earlier than in summer, and how sad and lonely the whole world felt to him. He hated solitary walks; he never understood why people would voluntarily go out on their own without the companionship of others. He hated the sound of dogs barking back to each other at the park, or the eerie silence at night. He hated everything that allowed him to start thinking, and everything that stopped him from thinking.

He liked wearing things that comfortably embraced his body, and things that looked chic. He would start wearing boots in autumn, and switch to sneakers when flowers blossomed at the park. He refused to wear beanies during winter because he hated how electrically charged his hair would become, and he hated wearing gloves because they prevented him from switching to the next song on his touch screen phone.

Woohyun was a mess –

2

One summer night, as God painted the sky with little, twinkling dots that people named our stars, and the sound of the sea in front of us started growing distant as we got used to the crashing waves, and we sat next to each other on the landing stage just above the water, a pleasant breeze rushing past us, he kissed me – passionately, with the greatest selfishness I couldn't know.

His fingers found themselves entangled with my hair, his other hand placed on my thighs. His warm breath felt ticklish on my upper lip as he kissed me the way Paris would kiss London. And he tasted like everything I never wanted. He tasted like smoke, like an ashtray or a burnt down house. He tasted like strong coffee, like bittersweet memories of the past. He tasted like the guy who wasn't even good enough for himself.

Woohyun pulled back, allowing an inch of distance between our faces, as he gazed into my eyes with a smile. The hand on my thighs still caressed the spot whereas his other hand left my hair to support himself on the wooden surface of the landing stage. He broke the silence first.

“I have something great in mind, right now.”

“Okay, tell me,” I said, spotting the little mole above his lips despite the darkened sky.

He looked at me with the greatest excitement, and followed with the words, “Let's dive into the water.”

A pause.

“You know I can't swim.”

“I'll hold you.”

“Why would you want to get soaked?” I asked absentmindedly, lifting up my head to admire God's work. “It takes a while until the clothes dry.”

“We can go in there .”

“Stop joking around.”

“Okay,” he said, pausing for only a few seconds, “But really, now. Let's get into the water.”

“You go in first, and maybe I'll join later.” I joked, leaning back with my body, as I placed my hands behind me, supporting my weight with my arms. A pleasant silence fell between us, the sound of the waves crashing against the wooden poles of the landing stage now more prevalent. I watched the distorted reflection of the moon move on the surface of the water, then averted my eyes from the horizon to Woohyun. He looked calmer after his last cigarette. Calmer and yet covertly disturbed.

“I'll go in, then,” he announced, taking off his shirt and the watch around his wrist, before he pushed himself off of the landing stage's edge, and dove into the water. My heart stopped for a moment, the solely thought of jumping into a pit of unknown scaring me greatly. I leaned forward, in order to take a better look at the dark sea and maybe Woohyun, until he emerged from the depth several seconds later with a smile on his face. “Man, that was great. You have to try it, too.”

I noticeably shook my head. “No, thanks.”

Woohyun reached out for me, holding himself up by clinging onto my legs, that were slightly dipped into the water, as he moved with the calming waves. “You look good in this angle.”

“Why are you saying this so suddenly?” I asked back, running my hand through his drenched hair.

“I don't know.” He now rested his arms on my thighs as he looked at me the way Gatsby looked at Daisy, the way every girl wanted to be looked at. “It's just that the moon looks good on you.”

Woohyun later climbed back up, letting the cold summer wind dry up the drops of water on his skin, as he rested his head on my shoulders, still half-, his gaze on the horizon. The short dive into the sea weakened the smell of smoke in his hair. He was holding my hand, and caressed it with his thumb.

“Can I ask you something?” I began.

“Anything,” he said.

“Would you stop smoking for me?”

There was a pause, in which he started letting go off my hand while he lifted up his head. “Is it really what you want from me?”

I nodded.

“Even if I might not be this cheery guy anymore? Even if I start being a wreck?”

“Your health matters more to me.”

Woohyun pulled the tshirt over his head, and sighed. Casting his gaze on his now intertwined hands on his lap, he said, “It's not as easy as you might think. Smoking releases the stress I can't deal with in everyday life. It calms me. And I feel better.”

“You know it's bad for you.”

“But who cares?” he retorted, his voice sounding irritated. He seemed slightly angry and frustrated until he saw the look in my eyes, and he finally realized what he had said to me. “I'm sorry,” he expressed moments later, placing his warm hand on mine. “I didn't mean it that way.”

“It's okay.”

Woohyun stared at me for the longest while before he said, “I'll promise to stop smoking.”

But he didn't.

1

(“I'm in love with you,” he said, gazing into my eyes. “I probably don't deserve you in the least, but I love you anyways.” He looked at my lips, then back into my eyes. “And it would be the greatest pleasure if you felt the same way.”)

3

In my brother's car, at the back seat with the tinted windows, surrounded by the smell of leather, with a remix of various songs playing in the radio, I eventually figured how deep the roots of Woohyun's anxieties truly were. Autumn had greeted us like innocent children on Halloween, red and brown colors of the trees meeting people's eyes in the softest manner, as our short trip to the next town ended with a panic attack on Woohyun's side.

It started with him nervously looking around the back seat of the car, with him touching the tinted windows like a child who sees snow for the first time, and with his ears failing to hear me talking to him. It was like he was in his own world, a cold city where the color white was all he could see, where weather broadcasts weren't needed because each day was the same.

And then, he started hyperventilating, desperately gasping for air, his eyes loosing focus and his temples getting covered with beads of sweat. His body shook and trembled furiously as he tugged at the collars of his shirt, shutting his ears out from the external world. It was the first time I saw this amount of fear in his eyes, as if he had lost something important to him, like a child loosing his mother. And the more I tried to understand him, the more I lost him to his fear.

4

The blanket hugged him the way a mother would hug his son as he looked at me tiredly, a faint smile on his lips and a cup of coffee in his hands. From the balcony of his apartment, you could admire the lights of the city shining under the dark sky with the kind of glow that left you speechless.

“I don't even like coffee,” Woohyun told me, wrinkling his nose, as his eyes refused to gaze away from my face. He set his mug on the ground, wrapping the soft blanket closer to his body after winter wind rushed past us, before he looked at the sky. “But we have a record.”

“Better than last time.”

“Almost a month.”

“Almost a month,” I repeated.

Woohyun turned his face to me with a smile. “I still feel like something is missing. And sometimes, I do get depressed and lonely. But-”

“It won't last.”

“I know,” he responded. “I know.”

(“Kiss me.”

So I kissed him the way London would kiss Paris back.)

6

Woohyun was a mess, in everything he loved and possessed and in the nothing he always wanted; he was claustrophobic, had fears and anxieties for unexplained reasons and secrets I hadn't unveiled yet. He was incredibly beautiful in the way volcanic eruptions or hurricanes sometimes seemed to people. He was everything I never wanted to have, and nothing the way I wanted him to be. But you could always wear layers of clothes if you felt too cold, and you always had the chance to take them off if it suddenly got too hot.

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a/n:

To Kimberly,

because I've promised you a one shot with tree Hyun dude,

because it's your birthday to(yester)day,

because I shamelessly had to ask for the exact date,

because I am a few hours too late,

because you wanted some romantic scenes of Woohyun,

and because you are my dongsaeng, and I hope to see you grow up into a healthy young woman.

Happy birthday. And remember, you'll always have less a year of wrinkles than I do. So be happy and enjoy your youth as long as you can.

PS: I know I should have given you a pure fluff one shot. But fluff is so not my thing, and I can't write it without cringing and getting embarrassed by my own words. That's why I gave you a semi-cringeworthy story that makes no sense. ;;

To the ones reading (having read) the story,

thanks a lot. You have no idea how much it means to me that people read my works. It's an amazing feeling. So feel tightly hugged by me!