Somewhere in a world a clock strikes twelve

Description

It had been the year after their 20th birthdays. Christmas Eve. Just like today. He thinks that it's the reason why that memory is so strong, so persistent. So intense.

 

"Nana," Yixing calls out teasingly. "Let's go Christmas shopping?"  He stands near the door, voice muffled by his thick and warm scarf around his neck and cold chafed hands rubbing with each other to make it warm.

 

The trains are crowded as they always are the time of the year. Yixing sees them all as they got off- couples holding hands, children with parents and couples going for christmas shopping while holding hands just like Yixing and me.

 

That day, on the street - and even as the thought comes incomplete at mind - he finds himself on the street again. The shops are the same, displaying the same decorations: the plastic lady with the same Christmas each year - but different red scarf - illuminated by the Christmas lights which was starting to be since it's getting dark ourside, the same big artificial tree being placed outside.

 

The window glimmer brightly. "Let's go there!" Yixing suggests, and pulls Nana along by the hand. Again, but for different reasons. Nana's face take on a bright red hue. They'd agreed not to do this infront of his fans or they will get jealous. Besides it took them teo years to get used to holding hands in public - the holding hand and cuddling stuffs. The rest of Exo members used to tease them; they would say that there was more to a date than holding hands on the way to break after dancd practice. But Yixing seems so happy when his friends so he let it be.

 

Inside, Yixing finally releases his grip, opting instead to feel the frsbic of the shirts. "How about this one?" he ask. Nana violently sneezes. The other shoppers turn as one of them showed a dissaproving look to Yixing and Yixing bowed to them and apologised and then Yixing look at you with concern. "Are you cold? Do you want to go home? My house?" His hand slightly brush against Nana's

 

Nana shakes his head. "It's alright, I'm fine," she says, and mentally told her inner self to stop sneezing.

 

An hour later, they're both laaden with shopping bags and bags of presents. Nana is wearing the hat which Yixing bought for her and Yixing is wearing the scarf which Nana bought for him in return. "Snacks?" Yixing asks. The moment Nana agrees, Yixing shyly smile showing his cute dimples.

 

It's the same crosswalk. The same building that used to have Exo's banner which say about their last concert before them going on hiatus and focussing on their lives. The same cafe, the easel blackboard advertising the same warm drinks but with ridiculous prices.

 

"French vanilla Late and double chocolate, please" that's what Yixing always orders.

 

"I still don't get it why i'm paying" Nana pouts. "You're the guy."

 

"But you're shorter" Yixing counters. That, Nana cannot deny. Nana is just like 154 cm while Yixing is a giant which is like 178 cm.

 

A look comes into Yixing eyes. Smiling, mysterious, mischievious. The light turns green. They began to cross, Nana on the outside. "I'll give you an extra special pesent" Yixing says and then-

 

She can remember it. The screecing. The car skidding on the ice. Black ice. Not stopping.

 

Nana freezes. People scream. Yixing scream. His eyes are big, scared, huge and fearfull. Strong arms envelop Nana and push her to the side.

 

She remembers the blood, the crying. Xing laying there, lips in a half-smile; he look so, so sad.

 

She remembers it.

 

She doesn't want to.

 

"Stop! Stop it!" her mind cries, futile in plea of the condemned, pain-filled and tear-filled and grief-filled, reaching and hanging on barely thin air. It's useles, and she know's it's useless, Pointless. Needless. "That's enough!" and it obediently screeches to a halt-

 

But like the car, too late, Yixing is laying there all over again.

 

A year. It's been a year. Nana tilts her head upwards and catches a snowflake at her lashes. Another drifts into her eyes, she blinks as it melts away.

 

"Yixing," she whispers, unanswered questions that can no longer be answered slipping throught the mist. "What was the present you promise me?"

 

Someone taps on Nana shoulders. Slowly she turns, pulled by some irresistable force. Behind him, the light turns yellow and red and green, cars coursing by in silent with their cranky engines, people talking, voiceless, into phones. A child runs by with exaggerated steps, mittens clipped onto sleeves trailing behind, him. Yixing stands there, looking happy and sad all at once.

 

"Aren't you dead?" Nana find herself asking. His face exactly the same. White skin, soft under Nana's fingers. Hair dyed brown still the same. Eyes wide and kind.

 

"You wanted your present didn't you?" Yixing smiles. The best smile. That dimple on his two cheeks. How his eyes turns into upwards when he smile. How his cheekbones was visible when he smiles. When they finally pull apart, his eyes twinkle, "Merry Christmas."

 

Somewhere in the world, a clock stikes twelve.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Foreword

hahahahaa helllloooooo theerree hope you enjoy the new one-shot i did

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