amazing how you can make me tear wanting an eternity with you as you slowly add pinches of pain into it





strong gales of wind are thrashing against the sturdy cherry blossom tree behind baekhyun, causing the branches to whip and sway about in the storm. countless of pink cherry blossoms are shed, twirling and swirling down to the ground. like the nature of his relationship with chanyeol, cherry blossoms are extremely beautiful (but then the beauty doesn't last. cherry blossoms represent extreme beauty and quick death - blooming a pretty shade of pink to mark the beginning of spring but then never lasting, always ending up scattered on the ground and slowly, slowly dying. the funniest thing is, they can't last for three months - they can't last for at least the month of spring and be pretty just for a while more.)

baekhyun stares off into the horizon, or perhaps the lack of one - the ragged dark clouds were looming over. yellow streaks of light which tries it’s best to break through the darkness are soon enshrouded by the once fluffy white clouds. howling wind seems to resemble the hushed cries buried deep within his heart. it was as if the wind was helping him express the desire to break free of all these hurt, all these pain, because the heart is fragile - and it can only take so much. (loving is painful, baekhyun thinks bitterly, unconsciously letting his eyes wander down and off the cliff, i don't want to love anymore- i quit.)

he tightens his grip on the thin slip of paper and bites his lips; little creases appear on the paper along his white knuckles. sweeping sapphire walls of water crashes violently into the almost vertical stretch of rock, forming white froth and backing away before the whole process repeats itself. though, as clamorous as the sight might seem, the sloshing sound of water against rocks is - oddly - comforting. when baekhyun inhales the scent of impending downpour, he thinks how much it pales in comparison to the sweet scent of petrichor. almost just like how a post-separation is almost always better an impending break-up.

the jittery feeling puts baekhyun on the edge and wondering, expecting the time bomb to be dropped anytime soon but let's face it, you will not ever be mentally prepared for bombs to drop and destroy you whole - no matter how much you think you really are prepared - with armour in thick layers of metal and concrete around the heart and all. that alone explains how a post-separation is always better because once the bomb has exploded, you will have been left with nothing at all. only pieces of yourself blown apart which you'll have to - somehow - gather up and fix back together. it's much simpler, much less jittery, much better for recovery.

(but then it has always been a general consensus that relationships ending are still never good, neither before, nor after.)

baekhyun exhales - and out comes the almost shards of his breaking heart. he closes his eyes and relishes in the cold wind hitting his back, encouraging him to go on, go on. between the loud howls and harsh coldness of the win he wonders why he can't simply go on, and just throw his hands up and let go already.

perhaps it is the way he hears the soft chants of 'you're beautiful, you're beautiful, you're beautiful, don't go' interrupting the environment. see, when you live by the compliments from him, you die from his words also, even in the written form perhaps.

so baekhyun lets his gaze follow a faded pink petal, which successfully diverts his attention from pondering too much (or maybe it's just because his head is hurting with thoughts he can't put his finger to and he does not want to ponder any longer and end up having to deal with a throbbing head and throbbing heart). round and round the pink petal swirls before the wind drops it. the petal falls limp and lifeless on the slip of paper he didn’t realise he had been clenching onto all the while.

oh. the realization hits him softer than it had ever been, with an impact of military truck crashing into a brick wall.

i’ll always be here for you - forever - i promise.

he thinks about the forever he was promised and he laughs bitterly, but then he didn't keep his promise to me. the forever he was once promised seems slipping through the seams of his fingers. why should i? it's still holding him back.

smoothening out the hard lines from his clenches on the piece of paper, baekhyun stares a hole through the messy words scrawled across the paper. do you believe in love at first sight? or do I have to walk by again?

the simple pick-up line brings back the first time, the first time which he wonders why he reminisces with tear-welled eyes and dry chuckles between sniffles. (it doesn't contain any elements of sad.)





( chapter 49 )





it is valentines day and it seems as if everyone has an admirer, a date, at least a confession. everyone that is, except for a certain high schooler by the three-syllable name of byun baekhyun. he is a normal child with a black belt in taekwondo. eyes droopy at the edges which resembled a puppy's, and like any normal high-schoolers, they were bright with a hint of playful glint.
the story begins when baekhyun opens his lockers every valentines, fingers always trembling with anticipation and always hoping for chocolates, a stalk of rose, or perhaps a simple letter. but then for every valentines, he closes his lockers with disappointment in bold poorly hidden on the top of his forehead. like a damsel in a fairytale, he was n a distress.

of course, not the usual distress where you get trapped in an ivory tower by your mother who is secretly a witch, but rather, the type of distress where you’re in danger of dying as an unloved .

and like a fairytale, there would one day be a prince charming to the rescue, saving the damsel and stealing her (his) heart. the prince charming in byun baekhyun's particular fairytale turns out to be an overgrown form of a boy with clumsy long limbs who goes by the name of park chanyeol.

he made a rather grand entrance into baekhyun’s life. (if your grand meant unnecessarily attention-attracting, that is.)



so it goes that baekhyun opens his lockers on another day of valentine to his stack of books and stash of food staring back at him blankly. once again dejected, baekhyun was pouting and wondering where his fairy godmother had gone to when chanyeol appeared in his line of vision. moonwalking. nope, you haven't read wrong, he was moonwalking out of the classroom, perfect side profile facing baekhyun. baekhyun stared. well, everyone stared. it would have been ‘everyone stared like he was in some kind of freak show’ if puberty had not done chanyeol good and chanyeol did not look so undeniably adorable (and lame) doing that.
baekhyun was handed that very slip of paper, and a part of him knew that it was probably written in the last minute because that paper looked like it was just torn out of a notebook with ugly (and barely legible) chicken scratch scrawled across. do you believe in love at first sight? or do I have to walk by again? (much sincerity present)
a deep shade of tomato-red colored baekhyun’s face instantly. tied in between feeling embarrassed and shy or skeptical in front of the boy who pulls off overly huge spectacles ever so perfectly, he bit his lips and stared at the ground, wondering why it wasn’t separating to swallow him up whole.

no one popping out from behind him and exclaiming, valentines april fool! and no chanyeol taking back the words he had written with a, just kidding
baekhyun barely manages a stutter.





the world - as much as we would like it to be - is not a wish-granting factory. fairytales have the word tales in them for a reason.





an explosion like a sonic - boom sounds and branches of lightning light up the stygian sky. (it's also funny how the cherry blossom tree was never struck despite it's height and the fact that it was the tallest in the lone cliff) a storm is brewing and the gales are still pushing baekhyun forward impatiently, pressing against his back and tugging his shirt and slacks towards the edge. baekhyun stands firm as if he had grown deep roots in the cliff; as if he is the cherry blossom tree itself, petals dropping but standing strong.

but really, it’s just that he can’t find it in himself to move.

when you love someone so much until it hurts, everything they do will make you drown deeper. compare love to the sea, where you just keep drowning deeper and deeper and initially, when your oxygen gets snatched away and the need for them is burning in your lungs, it hurts. and you soon learn that pain and love are two matters intertwined with each other so you just continue sinking, drowning and ignoring the cry for oxygen in your lungs.

the love and the seawaters will envelope you and the whole of your senses are filled with love, love and more love. there'll always be this pinch of pain whenever you love, but instead of focusing on how much you can't breathe and how no one's going to be able to resuscitate you at this rate of drowning, you let yourself overdose on the love and how nice it feels to have your whole body caressed by the fluidity of it. it lulls you into a sense of delirium and - really - no one's words will get into you. you'll just wait for the day where you finally feel twenty- no, thirty slender fingers wrapped and wringing your throat and maybe that's the intensity of choking needed for you to finally realise your need to breathe. but then maybe by that time you have sunken too deep and maybe - hopefully not - you'll be face to face with death. but then perhaps you'll still not regret loving because the feeling of being enclosed in love will be all worth it.

(baekhyun feels that way and he doesn't think he need resuscitation. no, not yet, just let me drown. a little more. just a little more.)

another playful or perhaps mean gush of wind pushes against his stiff body. It does not push him over the edge; of course it can’t. but sneakily, it wraps its chilly fingers around the slip of paper, baekhyun’s slacking grip allowing it to pull it out gently. the boy doesn't know or expect what the wind was about to take away from him until the paper slips out from the icy tip of his fingers.

his immediate reaction to his empty hands is to run after the slip of paper which was being tossed helplessly around by the wind. the paper gets flicked up and around and rotated in a mini-hurricane. flailing his hands desperately, baekhyun can’t seem to grab hold of it no matter how hard he tries. he blinks, moisturising his eyes where the wind blew dry against and the paper flies further for every step he takes. baekhyun is almost tearing up when he finally manages to grab hold of it, thumb and index finger firmly pressing onto both sides of the slip.

but by then the slip of paper is too far over the cliff. his hands outstretch and his whole body tilts dangerously forward. he tries to regain his balance, but fights a losing battle against gravity.

and he falls, down.



(the experience isn't new. baekhyun had been falling since years ago, and once upon a time he had thought there will always be invisible hands belonging to park chanyeol to cushion him in the end.)



it has been a crazy, heart-stopping roller coaster ride, but every start has an end. baekhyun closes his eyes and braces for the impact of the end, but it never came.

(he could feel the large cold drops splattering on his cheeks and over his lashes as he clutched onto the piece of paper close to somewhere near his heart. cold wind feeling icier than ever blew against the splattered pearls of raindrops on his cheeks. baekhyun fell through time and space and stars and the sky and everything in between. he fell for days and weeks and what felt like a lifetime across lifetimes in a bottomless pit. he fell until he forgot he was falling. the landscape changes)





(and funny how I never gave up carving tunnels out of dark mountains of disappointment even though it ing hurts)





baekhyun awakes with a muffled "oomph" on the cold cement tile of the ground. there is something about the wind as it rushes through the seemingly endless darkness and its capability of knocking you over if you are unprepared. the wind whips harmlessly at baekhyun’s face, blowing tendrils of his chocolate brown hair in every direction possible. his hair becomes ruffled and he soon feels as if he is being lifted off gently from the ground.

his gaze falls to his hands and his shoulders sag in relief when he finds out that the paper is still tightly within his grasp. he releases a breath which he never knew he'd been holding.

baekhyun’s eyes soon adjust to the darkness, pupils dilating behind the grey contact lenses, and he realises that he is stuck in a wide, high tunnel where the faint pitter-patter of water could be heard from a distance away.drip. drip. drip. drip.

curiosity piqued, he walks, treading softly the cement floor with hands outstretched (to ensure that he does not get a flattened nose or anything of that sorts; an incurable case of lovesickness causing a hole in his heart is more than enough). and as he treads forward, lights begin illuminating the tunnel walls, turning them into something similar to a movie screen as he got closer to the source of dripping water. for every step taken, pixels of different colors appears off the ground and floats into thin air, the pixellation forming only bits and pieces of the screen which he can’t decipher despite squinting, it's like separated pieces of jigsaw puzzles. so he waits for them to match up their edges and form a complete picture.



it isn’t until the source of dripping water becomes loud and clear in baekhyun’s ears that he regrets the curiosity which propelled him forward.

he looks at the screen in the distance, which the pixels had matched up and a picture (more like a short clip) had formed, and he sees a vaguely familiar figure, side profile facing the screen. little droplets are rolling off the figure's cheeks, dropping out of the screen and onto the ground in pitter-patters of drip. drip. drip.

baekhyun's eyes widen as a little puddle of salty tears form. (and he really wants to collect the tears in a jar and hush the boy to stop, close his eyes and everything will be alright.)

the boy is staring off in a distance, an aching memory of relationships gone sour before baekhyun realises that oh it belongs to him.





( chapter 249 )





baekhyun wants to crush the paper in his hands and throw it into the crackling flames he had created for the fact that he was lacking warmth. the fire though, could only provide this much and it's not enough, truthfully, if baekhyun were to burn the whole house down (and along with the smoke - perhaps - his memories will go), he would still feel way too cold. and as the slip of paper hover above the flickering flames, there's this moment of panic when the flame flickers before baekhyun snatches his hands away to prevent flames from the paper up, intentions to burn the paper dissipating in a flash.
baekhyun shouldn’t have gotten so used to fire chanyeol, as bright and attractive and warm and comforting as he was, fires die out and baekhyun didn’t understand the reason for his association with fire.

the reason for his current predicament - sitting in the living room of a motel room over a fire with glistening eyes - was of course non other than the hateful son of a gun park chanyeol's fault. chanyeol had come home drunk and baekhyun had always believed the quote in vinous verities (there’s truth in wine).
chanyeol’s flushed face and half-lidded eyes made baekhyun teeter on the edge of the cliff overlooking the sea of doubts.

baekhyunnie, chanyeol had cooed, slumping forward and hands extended to baekhyun and baekhyun could smell the distinct stench of beer on his breath.

this is bad. this is bad. baekhyun kept himself repeating the phrase in his head like a mantra, except that he couldn’t possibly expect anything opposite of bad when drunken words are sober thoughts.

you can't possibly leave me, can you? chanyeol giggled, arms winding themselves tight around baekhyun’s waist and colliding their lips together hungrily, pushing baekhyun against the sharp edge of the table behind him. baekhyun chooses to ignore the soft follow-up of just like what kyungsoo had said coming out of chanyeol's mouth.
baekhyun could only let chanyeol to go off with the little inches of space he had once saved for himself because what could he do? chanyeol was an assertive drunk and baekhyun a vulnerable sober.

he could feel chanyeol’s sharp, perfect white teeth biting his own lips, and he couldn’t say that it was as gentle as the first time chanyeol had nudged his lips open. but baekhyun opened his mouth anyway and allows chanyeol’s tongue to invade his mouth with the distinctly bitter taste of beer lingering on his breath, his tongue and in his mouth. their tongues entwined, chanyeol out a moan from baekhyun, and he pulls away only then.

a proud grin graced chanyeol’s lips as he looked at baekhyun’s then swollen lips and wrecked state. baekhyun was panting, yearning for another kiss even though he really shouldn’t. a bad premonition had settled in him at the smirk which followed after, and baekhyun reckoned he had better run away before tears made its way to his eyes.

he didn't as usual.

but prideful smirks and a drunk chanyeol always equals to a trembling baekhyun, the way an equation works: mx + b = y



when chanyeol doesn't say anything but dive in for baekhyun's jawline after the attack on his lips, nibbling and on it so that a purplish bruise blooms, it makes baekhyun think twice about the equation while letting out a soft whimper, his head tilting and giving chanyeol full access to the expanse of his pale neck.
against the purplish patch on baekhyun's neck, a deep mumble made it’s way to baekhyun’s ears. did I taste nice?

baekhyun would have been rendered helpless by then, nodding into oblivion if not for the fact that chanyeol disconnected his lips again. baekhyun’s body was still pressed in between the table and chanyeol when chanyeol pauses slightly before following up between playful grins and hiccups. that’s what kyungsoo had tasted like



(baekhyun should have expected this, but it wasn’t always like that.)


the words settled themselves in baekhyun’s mind and baekhyun’s eyes instantly widen in horror. something similar to the mixture of disgust, betrayal and hurt engulfed him, so overwhelming that for the first time in their relationship, he found it in himself to push chanyeol away, lips trembling and arms weakly outstretched against chanyeol’s broad chest.
why? baekhyun can’t even choke out the word which was screaming and blaring in his head. he shifted out of the suffocating space and ran, head thumping in an excruciatingly and painful way.



tears streamed down, wetting his petal-soft cheeks.



baekhyun runs, his eyes squeezed shut and ears, well you can’t possibly block out noises completely. little snippets of quarrels and you don’t understands whizz past the defence of the clap of hands over his ears.





( chapter 228)





tell me then. tell me what i am not getting. clear this up because i’m sick and ing tired of your excuses.baekhyun says, voice trembling and fighting, doing his best to not yell at chanyeol out of frustration.
he knew. he knew he’s got baekhyun at his whims and mercy and he knew that he should saw away the metal chain connecting baekhyun to him and dragging him down. but it’s just such a pity if there would no longer be any shoulders to cry on at his own will, no one to give him unrequited love and - perhaps - you could agree that he is sadistic, slightly. but chanyeol doesn’t want to let go like how baekhyun couldn’t let go. he doesn't want to care if the chain just gets tighter around Baekhyun, smothering him with cloud nines and promises (which are meant to be broken) between hugs and kisses.

chanyeol lets out a mirthless laugh. scoffed about what a joke it was. because baekhyun couldn’t get tired, he couldn’t possibly, he had believed. baekhyun was a rag doll he owned who will be there as and when he needed and he sure as hell isn't going to change that. so he twirls the house key in his fingers, as if he was winding little baekhyun in his pinky and lets out a soft sigh, keeping mum.
baekhyun thinks the sigh is pity when chanyeol walks out of the house with rattling keys and unspoken replies.



he runs forward into the darkness - even though there are little pixels, he cannot consider them light - endlessly. to a point where he is huffing and panting like a husky in summer despite the cold pricking into his bones. the pixels doesn’t stop, they surround him with bright (and what he found mocking) lights and dances, forming colourful (but incessantly heartbreaking) pictures taken out from his memories. streaks of tear stains are left imprinted a little less than skin deep on baekhyun’s cheeks, but they’ll disappear soon; baekhyun’s used to wetting his cheeks - so used that it's kind of scary how sad that is.



wispy tears over thin lashes are clear under lights and baekhyun looks up at the tunnel walls to find the same boy, tiptoeing and fingers grasping high over his head. the string of a helium balloon was hovering just centimetres within his reach. and when the boy finally catches hold of it, the thin string of the balloon slips away. and to be very honest, the sight renders baekhyun so frustrated that he would have pulled out a clump of his hair if not for the amount of self-control he possesses.

baekhyun is reminded of the way he almost lost the precious slip of paper and he clenches and unclenches his fist, holding the creased little piece. more than that, he is reminded of the feeling of trying desperately to grasp hold of something, someone, from leaving you - he hates how helpless it feels.





( chapter 194)





in the amusement park filled with sweetness, nothing but sweetness, baekhyun walks alongside chanyeol, his bony fingers clutching onto the other’s biceps over the other’s thin, long-sleeved shirt. baekhyun tugged on chanyeol’s sleeves, pointing to the rollercoaster with a dragon’s head with puppy eyes which conveyed a simple,i want to ride that.

he could see chanyeol’s eyes widening as they followed the red tracks in which the roller coaster would take – it starts with a slope, going up, up, up before dropping down in an angle that seemed almost vertical, then it follows with a 360 degrees turn – and he could have sworn chanyeol had opened his mouth slightly to refuse when chanyeol decided to shut up and deadpan.chanyeol didn’t resist, as expected, when baekhyun begins dragging him towards the direction of the roller coaster. and baekhyun couldn’t deny his feeling kind of glum for chanyeol’s lack of reaction.

it would have been nice if you said something. baekhyun mumbled with an upset pout, fingers still tight around chanyeol’s biceps and eyes casted down, noting how synchronised their steps seemed to be.
chanyeol either didn’t seem to hear or wasn’t replying even if he had heard.

the roller coaster ride consisted of another round of wind whipping his face and fingers latching in a tight grip on chanyeol’s. eyelids clamped over eyes as familiar breathlessness rushed into his system.

but in the end, chanyeol still remains an empty shell with dark brown orbs drowning in an abyss of nothingness; there were still forced smiles which always ended up very crooked to the right and empty hums in response to baekhyun’s comments. and it's honestly vexing for baekhyun to feel like he's talking to a living doll, puppet. he never liked being a puppeteer.



baekhyun had disagreed with the fact that chanyeol’s soul was already long lost before the roller coaster ride; he had tried to convince himself that the roller coaster ride was the cause of the missing soul in chanyeol. must have slipped out of his shell during the fast drop. or so he said. all the lies and delusions just seem to provide a comforting pink fog to round the sharp edges of the harsh truth; it reduces the pain. or so it seems. you never know if baekhyun still feels the prick though - he probably does - for it was as if he had become a master of delusions, following the loss of the usual bubbly chanyeol.



as they walked, baekhyun indulged in the fluffy pink sugar - they called cotton candy. stuffing mouthfuls after mouthfuls of artificial sugar into his mouth only to find out that it was never enough and it would never fill because the candy, as fluffy as it may seem, disintegrates into their original state of rock sugars at the touch of moist saliva. (and it's almost just like lies which never seem enough to cover the truth)

chanyeol smiled that crooked smile of his as he reached to wipe the little bit of sugar away from baekhyun’s lips with a gentle swipe of his thumb and baekhyun instantly deludes himself into thinking that chanyeol still cared again - although a part of him had wanted to slap the forced smile away.
the string of a helium balloon floats just slightly over his head, and a little girl was running after it from the corner of his eye. chanyeol could have grabbed it with an outstretched hand. but he didn’t and baekhyun has to be the one who tiptoes and jumps to grab the drifting balloon – he can’t possibly leave the girl in a lurch when he could provide help, can he? with a ruffle to the young girl’s head and an innocent smile received, he should have felt happy. but there is this wallowing hole in his heart as the young girl skips away with the string of the balloon strung tightly around her wrist.





the balloon reminded him too much of chanyeol’s drifting soul. and baekhyun wonders if someone had caught it before it successfully drifted away, he wonders if chanyeol’s soul was with that someone already.

baekhyun waves the pixels away with flailing hands. pixels are however, something similar to radiation and are stubborn unknowns which refuse to be disrupted with mere waves.



baekhyun gives up eventually waving pixels, tears of desperation welling in his eyes. he blinks them away for no one to see, walking forward with brisk footsteps despite his blurry sight. between clouded images and controlled sniffles, baekhyun vaguely catches onto the memory of chanyeol and kyungsoo, currently playing in vibrant colours of the pixellated screen.





( chapter 172 )





from the moment they locked lustful eyes and exchanged sparks, baekhyun should have realised something - big, huge - was amiss. from the first informal greetings of hey dororo and hey chanderp, baekhyun should have regretted introducing kyungsoo to chanyeol - or rather, re-introducing kyungsoo to chanyeol. from the not so subtle touches hidden behind lockers which were accidentally witnessed when baekhyun walked past, baekhyun should have given up instead of deluding. but old habits die hard and delusions are much too addictive.
baekhyun never does the should have’s and all he ends up is back in the corner of chanyeol’s mind, sticking back the broken shards of his heart with glues and lies.
(it was also chanyeol’s fault for keeping his hopes up. but it takes two hands to clap, everyone has to be a willing party in order for one to get hurt.)



chanyeol had made himself an indispensable addiction, killing him slowly day after day and baekhyun could only stand by the sidelines and watch him slowly slide his way into the need section of his own life without resistance. chanyeol was, after all, irresistibly sweet. he should have known that things weren’t always here to stay and really - the world isn't a nice wish granting factory. chanyeol wasn’t air, food or water. he was everything and at the same time nothing.




( chapter 153 )





baekhyun queued behind the long queue at starbucks, looking at the white words scribbled carelessly across the chalkboard which appeared to be a menu, “dark mocha frappucino blended coffee… java chip frappucino blended coffee… white chocolate mocha frappucino blended coffee.” he reads the menu, mumbling under his breath and trying to remember which one was his favourite and suddenly realising how chanyeol probably knew him better than he knew himself.when he came face to face with a petite female at the counter, gold plated name tag reading sandara, he briefly wondered where the kim taeyeon disappeared to. it had been months into his relationship and it was as if everything has changed since he’s last came out from his fairytale consisting of chanyeol, chanyeol and chanyeol.

sir, would you like to make your order? sandara sounds a little impatient compared to kim taeyeon, but then he realised that it was the long queue behind him, with tapping feet and the not-so-occasional glances at their wristwatches, that pressured her voice and laced it in this way.
baekhyun cleared his throat and managed an order which came out more like a question, white chocolate mocha frappucino? because he - really - wasn’t sure of whether it was the favourite chanyeol usually bought for him.

he walked away with his tray of order to a small corner of the café, settling himself down on a cushioned couch. baekhyun tore off the transparent plastic over the straw and pushed the straw through the hole of the cover, through the ice and stopped when he thought it was somewhere in between the crushed ice. he puts his lips over the small opening and began . there came the familiar flow of iced coffee to his mouth and he decided that as familiar as the name of the beverage is, it is tasteless and therefore it is wrong. baekhyun ignored the nagging feeling in his gut that is trying to get to him that it isn’t wrong, it’s just that chanyeol isn’t here by his side and everything’s going to feel wrong.

it scared him how dependent on chanyeol he had become, how everything had seemed wrong since the day he excused himself from baekhyun’s life with i’m busy, and he found himself fading like the petal without chanyeol, waiting patiently for him like hachiko would wait for it's owner, fervently wishing for him to come back soon.
he could not longer function properly without the other, and a part of him was almost perfectly sure that it isn’t vice-versa. (he runs away from the fact because it really makes him vulnerable and he doesn't like to feel weak and unsure of his feelings.)





( chapter 134 )





i’ll tutor you if you don’t understand.
here are the notes for the pre-calc exams.
i’ve made another copy of your scoresheets for you.
i bought extra coffee.
do you need anything else?

baekhyun could see how hard chanyeol was trying to be a perfect boyfriend to make up for that short period of absence. he shakes his head, a soft melodious laugh escaping from his parting lips as he accepts everything chanyeol offers, waving his apologies off with a bright smile of it's alright although he really had missed the mess of limbs and his warmth. as much as I like it, baekhyun muttered, facing chanyeol with his usual eyesmile, you don’t have to try so hard. he can't deny that loves chanyeol perfectly the way he is, flustered, clumsy long limbs by his side. that was all he needed, or so he convinces himself.

he went on tippy-toes and wrapped his arms around chanyeol’s neck for support, pulling him down and placing a peck of appreciation on the other’s lips.





baekhyun wants to tear the boy in the screen away, shake him up and tell himself that it’s a trap. but how could he, when the taste of chanyeol’s lips are so addictive, when the feeling of someone caring feels infinitely nicer after being left alone for so long. perhaps that was the way chanyeol had intended to manipulate baekhyun from the very start. hook, reel, starve, indulge, starve. and all baekhyun could see when he stares into the boy's eyes was hunger and a hint of desperation. never a good sign.





baekhyun continues blinking tears away endlessly as he walks down the tunnel, hands still outstretched to avoid bumps. his eyes are starting to hurt with blinding black and yellow stripes and so he stops his blinking, only to catch the enchanting deep purplish tones, a stark contrast against the shimmering stars that peppered the skies. two boys huddles together in a sleeping bag and baekhyun can’t help but continue staring at what comfort that sight is - how warmth radiates - just a little - after all the fiasco and broken hoarse yells.





( chapter 108)





i don’t like tents. they makes me feel like i'm locked up… or something. and there isn't any holes to look at stars.baekhyun had muttered, crawling out of the tent with knotted eyebrows and bottom lips sticking out in distaste. a sleeping bag was dragged out along with the boy, brushing against the soft green blades of grass.

oh well, then i don’t like tents too. there’s no baekhyun inside tents. chanyeol had himself crawling out of the small entrance following the older male, shrugging at the chill which travels up his spine.the two boys sat under the starlight, baekhyun identifying different constellations with excited points of his fingers and tugging his jacket closer around him, shivering ever so slightly in the cool of the night; chanyeol admiring the star in his life by the name of baekhyun, vision focused on him with absolute adoration and nodding at the way baekhyun's eyes light up when he points out the map of constellations. when baekhyun turns to chanyeol and says with his eyesmile melting the cold, freezing night - beautiful, isn't it? - chanyeol nods dumbly, completely mesmerised by the way baekhyun's eyes twinkle and the shadows his eyelashes cast - yea, beautiful - and chanyeol certainly isn't referring to how the stars map themselves up or how they are really two orbiting around each other, it's the way baekhyun's lips curve up and the way his cheeks flush when the cold nips.baekhyun, getting embarrassed and uncomfortable under chanyeol’s scrutinising stare, socked chanyeol’s shoulders lightly to ease his nerves, muttering an embarrassed stop staring unless i grow another head.

and while baekhyun diverts his attention to the glow of stars under the skies, chanyeol continues staring anyway, hooked by every contours of baekhyun’s delicate features and furiously copying every detail of his then boyfriend into his mind.
when baekhyun feels chanyeol's stare again, he gave a short huff, blowing his fringe up and deciding to take cover in the sleeping bag under the night sky while chanyeol lay propped on the ground with his elbows, beside the sleeping bag. he poked baekhyun’s pasty cheeks and baekhyun's voice comes out as a groggy mumble of what, eyes barely opening only to find chanyeol’s eyes staring intently into his own, he pushes his face slightly under the sheets so that chanyeol wouldn't see his cheeks heating up. silent messages were conveyed and received. baekhyun’s cheeks heated even more into a rosy shade of red as he shifted to make a little space for the taller male.
if chanyeol fitted into the extra space perfectly, baekhyun found his head pressed against the warmth of chanyeol’s chest. his cheeks still flushing madly when he felt one of chanyeol’s arms around his waist, another one on the back of his head. too much skinship - baekhyun thought as he buried his head into chanyeol’s chest, blushing madly as he fell asleep to the even heartbeats of chanyeol. and a part of him secretly adds, i could get used to it.

the softest of the cacophony of crickets chirping filled the comfortable silence of that night.





those are the memories baekhyun holds closest to his heart and clings onto relentlessly because the fluffiness covers up the bitterness of their relationship, little by little. this one calms the erratic beating of his heart, evening it out and bringing him back to what he can call peaceful and reminds him that it wasn't always like that, and perhaps - maybe - everything is just a bad dream which both would soon wake up from. panting and beads of sweat dotting his forehead, chanyeol would then take baekhyun into his arms again, telling him everything's alright, i'm here with the smooth timbre of his voice and- baekhyun could certainly dream.

though, he still can’t help tasting chanyeol like blood in his mouth whenever he goes to parks or camps out in the open now. but whenever he does taste the nasty substance, he ignores - the metallic smack of blood - and tries to convince himself that you chose chanyeol, baek. chanyeol's who you like.





baekhyun continues his route in the dark tunnel-like place, following the pixels dancing in his eyes, leading him back to somewhere he deems as after the beginning. two males were on the seated on the bed, their lips dangerously close to touching and the small pepper stick between their pursed lips.





( chapter 95 )







can we? chanyeol had asked, holding up the chocolate-coated pepper stick and sticking one end into his mouth before crawling over to baekhyun and nudging the other end of the stick into the other’s mouth. baekhyun couldn’t remember when he had agreed to it, but then again he couldn’t possibly have refused chanyeol.

settled comfortably on the bed, baekhyun opens his mouth and secures the biscuit in between his lips, opting to stare at it instead of locking eyes with chanyeol because he could easily imagine the rate at which he would melt if he ever concentrates on the warmth in chanyeol's eyes. it would most probably end up with baekhyun melted into a gooey puddle - like how ice cream melts under hot sun.


he had negative experience in the field of pepper games, much less did he know how it works, but it seemed to him that chanyeol was moving forward, nibbling bits and pieces of the pepper stick away and try as he might, baekhyun couldn’t seem to return the action until chanyeol’s face was close to his own - so much closer than it had ever been that he could see the little imperfections, the small bump built on the bridge of his nose. he felt his heart on the edge of exploding from the anticipation eating at his nerves when their eyes lock in the split second - baekhyun's unsure and chanyeol's assuring. with chanyeol’s head tilted forward, preparing to catch baekhyun’s lips, baekhyun took the last bite of the pepper stick, closing in on the gap with lips meeting.

animation lit up the background in rainbows and fireworks as chanyeol’s lips mold themselves perfectly over his own for the first time, baekhyun tasting the chocolate and biscuit digesting in his mouth. it's sweet.






the memories awakened and played in by the pixels seem so real (they are real, merely banished to the back of baekhyun’s head), it seems as if baekhyun could relive them all, go back into the past if he just keeps on walking forward, he finally figures. it seems as though he can leave those horrible memories behind and he can restart. right now, he just has to find the end, opening of the tunnel. so filled with determination, so fooled by his own stubborn thinking, he strolls on. no longer waving pixels away because he is tired, but because he believes that they can lead him to the way out.


the only thing he seems to have forgotten besides the happier memories is that incident which comes before the pepper kiss. of all the trauma, he had to wipe that off his mind. but when he finally encounters the situation all again, he can feel himself numb and knees buckling under his weight. chanyeol, please, please come soon. he whimpers as the memory was relived, like all the others from before.


a familiar boy is on the edge of the building, sitting on the very corner and legs swinging in mid-air like he had no care in the world. that wasn’t true.











( chapter 66 )





… and you’d really think that- stop. -someone would love a like you- please -he’s probably just tricking you into agreeing to be his toy- please -and you should have seen your face so eager- no -byun baekhyun you’re merely a- shut up, please -.

baekhyun clenched his fists, lips trembling as his teeth tugged them back in anger and a small hint of fear. what if everything said was true after all? what if chanyeol really isn't gay. what if chanyeol was only lying when he said he loved him. what if, what if.

he glared at the sharp-tongued female, chanyeol’s step-sister, eyes burning with anger and glistening with unshed tears despite the wreck he is being inside. he focuses on mentally sewing the other’s mouth shut, piercing the bone needle harshly through the luscious lips spilling venom and tightening the strings connecting her upper and lower lips only to find it breaking with a small snap when she continues. (and though thank god she wasn’t drunk, his heart still clenched tightly and the words spitted still made him prefer ripping his heart out)

as I was saying, baekhyunnie, you must be starving. step-sister’s venom dissipates into a sickly sweet coo as soon as chanyeol’s footsteps can be heard through the closed doors. let’s have dinner, (it sounds like poison in baekhyun;s ears), shall we? she offered with a hand, outstretched for baekhyun to take, eyes teasing baekhyun what are you waiting for? with a smirk playing at her lips. baekhyun could see naive chanyeol’s eyes lighting up and a smile cracking across his face like a sunbeam at the word dinner. his happiness however, didn’t seem to be infectious that day and baekhyun decides that he'd rather not resort to step-sisters potassium cyanide to drag him out of distress.

he shifts his eyes back to chanyeol’s step-sister’s long fingernails on her outstretched hands, painted blood red before looking at chanyeol again, hiding the woebegone expression from taking over his face behind a forced smile as he conveyed his silent apologies to chanyeol for turning down the request.

i think- no i’ll pass was all he managed to choke out before running out of the opened door, nausea bubbling up from the pits of his stomach at the thought of the long fingernails covered with crusted blood from sinking too much, too deep, breaking the skin of the palms of people whom chanyeol loves whenever they take her hand.


or claimed to love.



all the way up he ran, the endless flight of circle stairs, tripping over a few steps at times but getting up immediately after and continuing with grazed knees and scratched elbows. he doesn’t stop despite the air getting snatched from him for every second more he ran, his cheeks flushed until all his brain and every muscle in his body scream for is air, air, air.

it was only when he reached the very top - bursting through the unlocked metal grill and crumbling into a heap on the hot cement ground - that he gets his relief. his chest heaved rapidly up and down, up and down, as he panted heavily, lungs struggling hard to take in as much air as possible at once. at least the words were out of his mind. temporarily. at least the air up on the roof was nothing like the poison gas in the suffocating room. nothing like a thousand blades of knives carving into his heart at once. nothing like ten invisible hands seizing his throat at once. that was more than he could ask for.


as baekhyun's erratic breathing evened out, he took a step for every word he had recalled. one. . two. toy. three. so. four. eager. five six seven eight. .

those were all it took for baekhyun to go whoa, amused, because damn, that is a pretty long way down. but it would be nice for air to be snatched away from the lungs again just so the thoughts that eat him up would all be replaced with air, air, air once again.
baekhyun peered down and estimated the seconds it would take for him to fall, the seconds it would take for him to realise that he can’t possibly fly back up, the seconds it would take for him to land smack onto the ground in a heap of broken bones and piercing silence- baekhyun!

it’s the familiar, heart-wrenching baritone voice which he loved. baekhyun doesn’t make any movement to turn around, because if he did, all contemplation to drop down will fly out of the window and he would forever be stuck with thoughts too loud for his own. hey. baekhyun replies calmly, as if silent tears aren’t already leaving streaks down to his chin when he focuses on the gravel on the road which will cushion his fall.

chanyeol could probably see baekhyun's wavering body, deciding when the right moment is to throw himself off, or he could brush everything off with a careless thought of baekhyun’s not going to do anything silly, baekhyun isn’t. though, baekhyun can't agree that falling off buildings are classified under ‘silly actions’.

come down, please, i was wrong. i shouldn’t have brought you here. i- i thought she would like you--

baekhyun chuckled emptily, wiping his tears away with a clenched fist and cutting chanyeol’s ramble off. it’s okay, wasn’t your fault to begin with.


can you please come down then? baekhyun could hear the all-too-familiar desperation in the voice. the desperation that could be comparable to his own unvoiced thoughts. he shook his head; any second more of talking to chanyeol would make his will collapse. he had to keep it strong and going, he had to go off soon.

perhaps a little part of him would rather chanyeol pull him down, that would work fine, just like the soap dramas he had watched. except that life wasn’t a soap drama. chanyeol gets him down in the end anyway.


baekhyun could feel chanyeol's chest against his back, standing firmly and arms tightly wound around his waist. he thought that he heard - received - a desperate cry of baekhyun i love you and i'd never want to let you go. but thoughts can be deceiving and baekhyun convinces himself to not get his hopes too high up and pine after the proclamations of love because for all we know, it's meaningless.


baekhyun could feel chanyeol tugging him backwards, probably expecting some form of resistance from baekhyun because when baekhyun relaxed his body completely and let himself get tugged backwards, both of them went crashing onto the ground, baekhyun on top of chanyeol.

baekhyun rolled off chanyeol and brushed invisible dust off his shoulders as if he isn't sporting red-rimmed eyes and he wasn't just about to jump off the high-rise. chanyeol sits up, eyes flickering and trying to search for baekhyun's. but baekhyun is a master of avoiding. none of them laughed; the tension in the air was so thick, a knife could slice through it. chanyeol isn’t the sort who slices tension with knives, though, so he breaks the silence, promise to never do this again? i’ll always be here for you - forever - i promise.

baekhyun was obliged to return the promise, after all chanyeol had done, and maybe all the hurt would be more bearable, with chanyeol. alright. i promise. between indulging in the warmth of chanyeol’s chest he was buried in and the struggle to get air from the overwhelming glomp, his promise comes out muffled.







it’s stupid how muffled promises are the ones which are really kept.





baekhyun sees the imminent light as he trudges on, dragging his feet with greyed, worn-out orbs. the tunnel was coming to an end, and with every step more, the more blinding the lights engulfing him is. for the restart, he pushes himself. the light and heat soon devour baekhyun and he feels the energy hitting him in full force before everything goes pitch black


















(ever heard of this saying, sometimes, the light at the end of the tunnel is just an oncoming train?)
















baekhyun wakes up to a throbbing head and whitewashed walls. he looks around and corrects himself. white hospital walls, and by the bed, there are blue curtains, drawn apart. the doctor or nurses, however were nowhere to be seen, and there’s this slight chill lingering in the disinfectant-smelling room, like a warn of the foreboding loneliness which will bury him soon (and it sure as hell isn't going to be like getting buried under the blankets).

his back feels sore and stiff beyond words and he barely manages to prop himself on his bandaged elbows before he catches the familiar tattered piece of paper by the table by the bed. words worn from the weather and another note is found next to it - with edges smooth and sharp, surface glossy and perfect, almost you’d get a paper cut if it gets snatched out of your fingers. baekhyun picks it up, the neater version of the familiar chicken scrawl scribbled across the page.




“To: Baekhyunnie


The doctor said that there’s a chance that you’ll wake up from the long long nap you were taking so I thought I’d write this so that you’ll see my message when you wake up. I guess you’ve woken up huh?


I probably won’t be the first person to greet you when you wake up, and I don’t think I’ll ever get the courage to say “Hey Baekhyunnie” ever again. I am really sorry for doing whatever I did when I was drunk. I wasn’t conscious, everything I said wasn’t true. I still love you.


Don’t be mad at me, okay?


1st April 2014”





the doctor walks in through the doors, a black tie peeking out from beneath the heavy white cloak and a look of surprise instantly overtaking his face. oh, you’re awake. he mutters softly, knuckles going a shade whiter around the dark blue clipboard once he catches the note in baekhyun’s hands. kim junmyeon. the gold-plated name tag pinned on the cloak reads.

junmyeon briefly scribbles a string of words on the paper of his clipboard, the scrawl raw and mind-blowing in the quiet of the room, before he pauses and takes a sigh. how are you feeling? any discomfort?


baekhyun shakes his head no.


do you remember anything? how you ended here?


baekhyun was about to start on how he fell from the cliff and the surreal reliving of his memories when the nagging question in his head overruns and all he could find himself saying was, where’s the person who left this note?


junmyeon sighs his weary sigh again before looking at baekhyun, pity almost crossed in his features. baekhyun feels himself shrink a little at the mere look on his face because it was as if the doctor knew about everything he didn’t want to.


he was out in the corridor a few minutes ago, he pauses and contemplates on whether to tell baekhyun the whole truth. his inner conflict is evident and the truth obviously wins when he tells baekhyun - voice a hesitant stutter - with um, another guy. shorter, black hair and wide eyes, really, really intimate. i warned them against their actions. and he visited everyday, always with the same guy. are they close friends of yours?


baekhyun takes in the information with a huge gulp, noting how joonmyun’s struggling for his face to not redden at the awkward recollection. a moment of silence strikes and he doesn't even want to consider the question.

and then he bursts into soft hysterical laughter, sniffling tears and voice beamingly soundless at the same time. how could you. park chanyeol, how could you. he crushes the piece of perfect paper with words which are seemingly carelessly scribbled on with the little amount of strength he has left – all fueled by flabbergast - and you can’t even write a proper apology. just had to pull that trick because it’s april fools huh?

because apologies should mean i'm sorry i'll change, idiot.

baekhyun then smootherns the crushed paper out, tears them into shreds, just like how the short message shredded his heart. you and happy april fools. he chants and hisses bitterly with every tear of the paper, before turning to the doctor with a bright smile. (though closer you could almost see the resentment and disappointment in the sad tears hidden within the orbs). thank you, would you be a dear and burn these up? he gestures to the heap of torn perfect paper. the doctor nods numbly, picks up the heap into a small bin and walks out.




when the footsteps were way out of hearing, baekhyun takes the tattered piece of paper. gently, he presses it close to his heart and curls into a fetal position, throat constricted and shuddering hard.






( chapter 49 )






no one popping out from behind him and exclaiming, valentines april fool! and no chanyeol taking back the words he had written with, just kidding

baekhyun barely manages a stutter. c-can you walk by again?

everyone broke into joyous peals of laughter as chanyeol replied sure, weirdly charismatic with his cheshire cat smile. because he had, after all, spent a pretty lot of time learning how to moonwalk from jongin.






-end-






a/n:

- prolly the worst thing i've ever written it's so cliche i am ashamed
- and also the longest
- from earlier in the year (aka prolly my last chanbaek)
- for memoirschanbaek
- bye (and it'd be cool if you left a comment c:)