I know it's Hard to Stop

Squeak. Click. Slam. Repeat. Squeak. Click. Slam. Repeat.

Baekhyun knew. He was at it again. Every night, at exactly the same time of seven-forty five, the same consistent creak and slam of the front door would sound throughout the house along with a deep voice counting out the times aloud; “Thirty-six, thirty-seven, thirty-eight, thirty-nine, forty.” At every interval of five, the lights hanging above the furnished marble kitchen counters would also flicker off then back on.

Eventually Baekhyun had to warn his most beloved person, Chanyeol, in his usual warm and inviting manner that if he continued opening the door, they’d have a whole bunch of house intruders. And even though Baekhyun knew that Chanyeol wouldn’t ever heed his warning, he kind of hoped that one day if he reminded him enough times that he would.

All the noise and flickering would eventually stop, but not until Chanyeol reached fifty with the doorknob slightly turned to the left and the lights illuminating down, casting such a harsh, lonely shadow underneath it.

After they’d watch their favorite television program and before the night was through, Chanyeol responded with trying to kiss Baekhyun goodnight once; then ended up kissing his sweet, sweet, honey tasting lips twenty-three times, then once more to make it an even number of twenty-four. But then Chanyeol would insist on redoing the last two because their “lips and mouths hadn’t been quite aligned” in the way he pictured it.

During the bitter, sullen, nights of winter, Chanyeol would stay up almost until the crack of the new morning pacing back and forth between their shared bedroom and den, cleaning supplies in hand mumbling disjointedly about something Baekhyun could never pick up on no matter how hard he willed himself to.  

Other nights, when the moon enlightened their dust-free bedroom and kissed Baekhyun’s milky skin awake, he’d hear Chanyeol reciting the word ‘’ because he happened to stub his toe on the way to the bathroom and once he started it was hard for him to stop. Baekhyun’d listen to his beloved curse, each time heartbreakingly more spiteful than the last until all ceased and the bed would dip exactly three times before the warmth encased the smaller’s body again. Small whispers of, ‘I love you Baekhyun’, would dance across the moonlit air forty-seven times before all would fall quite once more.

That night Baekhyun had quite the haunting dream; he and Chanyeol had the most perfect night planned out, they had tickets to an opera where the two of them would bask in the melodious voices of incredible sopranos belting out beautiful harmonies, but everything faded to black and the dream started over. Baekhyun’s dream altered and instead of those angelic tones they were replaced with long held out strings of ‘s’ to the tune of Don Giovanni.

On nights like those, Chanyeol’d wake up first being sure to fold and straighten out the creases on his side of the bed in such a way that only he could do and get right in the seven times he’d do it. As soon as Baekhyun did so much as to flutter his precious little eyes open, the taller was there beside him, perched on the bed with an “I’m sorry about last night” but this time added something different which was rather shocking and not like the Chanyeol he knew.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. It’s just that new depression medication’s been making me feel like so I decided to take myself off of it.” Chanyeol huffed in which Baekhyun replied,

“It probably makes you feel that way because it’s working.”

The expression of confusion, pain, and sorrow all splashed Chanyeol’s flawless face at Baekhyun’s unusual response to Chanyeol’s unexpected conversation add on before it was soon washed away with the taller’s routine teeth-rich smile and seventeen smooches on the check because it was Wednesday morning and that’s what he always did.

Deep, deep, deep, down in Baekhyun’s heart and stomach he knew. He knew that his beloved Chanyeol was gone. As much he hated himself for admitting it, Baekhyun knew and it hurt. Months and months blew by like some kind of sick cyclone of change and wisped all loving remnants of Chanyeol away. And that’s why he decided to leave.

He left with selfish, lame excuses that Baekhyun shouldn’t just be another object in his routine, that he shouldn’t let Chanyeol become so attached to him because in the end, it would be a mistake. Loving each other would be a mistake. When the true reason that pushed Baekhyun to leave was because he just couldn’t understand why.

But never would have Baekhyun thought that in a million years he’d witness Chanyeol’s bloody wristed self being drove off in an ambulance further and further away from him than he was comfortable with be today, two days after.

Baekhyun arrived at the horrifying scene much too late and hot trails of tears soaked his pale cheeks, too guilt-ridden to even bring a hand up to wipe the showers leaking from his eyes away. The ambulance blurred, the noises faded, and Baekhyun was left with no one just as he had done to Chanyeol, no warning and just pure despair.

As Baekhyun stepped inside of the hospital room, Chanyeol’s bright eyes and stunning riled up hair greeted his entrance; bandages wrapped securely around his thin wrist while his hospital gown fell oh-so-gracefully above the middle of his thighs. In the strangest way, Chanyeol beamed with a light that Baekhyun had no words in the human dictionary to describe just how relieved the taller appeared to be. “Chanyeol-ah-“

“-I accidently sliced one of my wrists with a steak knife while chopping up some extra carrots I needed for stew.” Chanyeol tried to say without letting his rich voice crack with the sudden flood of tears that pooled in his eyes. “I couldn’t- I couldn’t just have one cut wrist I needed two, but then it looked uneven so I added three more-“

Baekhyun cut off the rest of Chanyeol’s ramble by pressing his face into his chest, embraced the large figure within his arms. Warm patches of salty tears soon soaked his navy blue polo, “I get it Chanyeol. Hush, now. I get it. No more.” Chanyeol’s body twitched as harsh sobs seeped out from his throat, so heartbreaking to hear.

Why hadn’t Baekhyun realized it before? Chanyeol had been making stew, a dish he made on every other Friday, knowing that it was Baekhyun’s favorite thing to eat after a long day of work. Why hadn’t he realized the reason behind all of Chanyeol’s kisses was to make sure that it was nothing less of perfect? Baekhyun held back those goddamned tears for he finally grasped the missing pieces.

“Chanyeol, I know it feels as if the world around you is sometimes too much to handle… but just know that I’ll be here. I’ll be with you always because you’re my beloved Chanyeol and I finally understand why it’s so hard for you to stop.” Baekhyun paused taking a much-needed breath before attempting to continue, but Chanyeol beat him to it resulting in them saying three perfect little words in unison,

“I love you.”

“I love you.”

author's note; i at angst. end of story. peace. crappy ending. yeah. ugh. i crei. /gets slapped for posting crap

comments are great appreciated though! :3