Chanyeol had a penchant for flower crowns. He loved to touch the smooth blossoms as he wove their stalks together, watching mulberry flash against carmine, against xanthous. Their decadent scent always filled his home with notes of spring, the bright colors seeming to shimmer as they were draped with the utmost care across wooden beams. It had always been his affair to enjoy, a little escape from the troubles of life...until Baekhyun came along, that is. An elfish boy with swarthy tresses and kohl-lined eyes that gave off more of a shine than any of his efflorescence ever could. The elder reached out to Chanyeol, dazzling him with his words that were delivered in rich, chocolatey tones. No one understood him like Baekhyun, no one had cared about him in the same way before.

It became a thing of habit for Chanyeol to invite the other into his embrace at the end of the day, to lay his head upon Baekhyun's lap while he thread strands of bulbs and allowed his partner to toy with his chestnut curls. Sometimes the other would ask Chanyeol what kind of posies he was using, or told him tales of lovers and their eternal happiness. He painted fairy tales in the flower-weaver's mind, promised him everything he could ever want.

Who could deny that he felt safe in Baekhyun's presence, always yearned for his touch? This was the life Chanyeol believed he was meant to live, one of pleasure and beauty. The pulchritude was no longer his flowers, but the smooth lines of his elder as he stretched the pale flesh along his toned arms on sunny days, and most of all, those sparkling gems that delved straight into his lover's soul. Baekhyun was gold, a treasure - of this Chanyeol was certain - and though he sometimes felt greedy, it was all worth it as Baekhyun played his charms when he spoke.

As time passed, the obsidian-haired male came to visit his admirer regularly. They'd chat over the tea Chanyeol had spent all morning brewing, picking his own mint leaves to add a special flavour. Sometimes he'd lay a new rope full of cerulean florets (Baekhyun's favorite color) around the table, raining extra petals across the surface. If it was warm, the two would end the evening laying under the crepuscular light, fingers entwined, looking deep into the depths of each other's eyes where swirling galaxies could be found, until they drifted off in the solitude of the star-lit sky.

Long summer afternoons turned into a brisk autumn. Leaves in tender stains of crimson and titian danced to the ground, and Chanyeol didn’t have enough hours of daylight spend with Baekhyun. The petite brunet gladly sat indoors, liking to watch the wind blow colors through the sky, spilling his secrets in susurration. Often times the taller of the pair would return from the kitchen only to find his paramour inert on the couch, lashes brushing apple cheeks and puckered lips open in passiveness. It was then that Chanyeol would lift said sleeping figure and carry it to the berth in his room, enveloping him in thick blankets and laying a kiss against his jowl.

Chanyeol thinks he may have begun his story - the story of his life, one where he is a protagonist, the character that each reader is rooting for. Maybe he gets to be the daring prince that saves his damsel in distress (obviously he’s not thinking of Baekhyun - that would be complete madness, after all), or a fanciful knight with a dapper horse at his side.

Or, he’s the antagonist, losing when he doesn’t really realize it. But Chanyeol pushes that thought to the back of his head, ignoring the whispers of “what if?” that torture him constantly. Because, what if he loses it all? What if this sugary bliss that has become his epoch isn’t meant to last?  

Of course all thoughts of this were discarded to the deadlands of the mind, deeply forgotten in the simple toils of everyday life. Day after day, Chanyeol awoke to Baekhyun’s small frame curled against his larger one, droopy eyes shut in the haze of his dreams. He’d make coffee whilst waiting for the sleeping to awaken, leaving the finished cups on the bedside table and laying pecks across the lesser’s ear. The flurry of light, footstep-like kisses from soft lips always brought Baekhyun back to his entity, and the rest of their diurnal course went on as such, sharing lunch and small chatter about things like, for instance, Baekhyun’s favorite kind of cookie or how Chanyeol snored so loud it sounded like a car revving its engine. These types of remarks made the deuce laugh in utter harmony, carrying out the tinkling din of their happiness.

As Chanyeol found out, his partner in crime liked to bake. They would stand for what seemed like hours in the kitchen, darting in and out of the pantry, the granular treats producing a smell so decadent both of them wanted to take the whole plate in one mouthful. Chanyeol could see his love reflected in the facets of his companion’s face. This piety was expressed in gentle forget-me-nots, the action of playing with the other’s fingers and pulling in for a fragmentary surprise osculation until both were certain that their passions could not be stifled and ended up rushing to the bedroom.

The time came in which Chanyeol, with his mound of social skills, wanted his other friends to meet Baekhyun. He had exchanged brief phone calls with them, met from time to time for steaming cups b with cream layered on lattes, and each moment, had talked up an absolute storm about the new-found . By now, everyone was sick of it, and protested in vociferation that Baekhyun accompany Chanyeol for a drink (the giant turned this proposal down indignantly, Baekhyun didn’t drink).

Once the frame-up had been set, Chanyeol shared potboilers with the diminished boy. It stimulated him to see Baekhyun’s eyes wide in stupor and amusement, discovering that when he got excited his hands shook briefly and that his mouth hung open a bit when he was focused. Each new ascertainment brought waves of ecstasy, euphoria - seeming to tend to the fire already oxidizing in his heart.

Despite the undaunted mask Baekhyun wore, it was obvious that he was nervous to present himself to the rank and file that his innamorato spent time with. These thoughts were hushed as much as was possible by pacifying shoulder massages and whispers of succor, distributed in the most gentle of acts and a smattering of kisses each time after.

To further calm the suppositions, Chanyeol presented him with beryl-hued delphiniums every morning.

-

The ante meridiem was spent making a slow breakfast of eggs, splitting the dripping yolk-ed bonne bouche between themselves. Each wrapped a scarf over his isthmus twice over, and both absently fixed their bangs at the same moment for utmost perfection.

Kyungsoo, the acquaintance of choice, sat shrouded in an inky black jacket, sipping coffee from a flimsy cup and glancing around himself with intrusiveness. Wind had fluffed his dark hair and flushed his gill, revealing a slight roseate blush over the majority of his small features. Chanyeol had had some feelings for the short boy in the past, but was turned away by the other’s desire for a former classmate. As the retrograde pair entered the coffee shop, a blast of warm zephyr soothed their withered and hiemal souls, settling a comfortable flush across plumped cheeks and calming the slight shivering of their legs.

Chanyeol reached out to Kyungsoo with a honey-sweet smile, briefly turning towards Baekhyun, who was crouched in on himself, tugging the lapel of his coat closer to his chest for warmth. As he pulled away, Chanyeol stood close to his lover, lightly brushing fingertips in a gesture done to ameliorate the tense setting of his shoulders.

“Well,” Kyungsoo began, “is this ‘Baekhyun’ going to meet us here?”

The umber-haired male felt a frown touch the corner of his usually upturned lips. “What are you talking about?” The words spilled out in a whisper. “Don’t be stupid Kyungsoo, he’s right here, are you blind?”

“You may as well be if you can’t clearly see that there’s no one there!” the dwarf retorted, his eyes narrowing in apprehension.

At the sight of fear on Chanyeol’s face, he stopped himself, gently outstretching his digits towards his consort. “Yeol, I-”

“What are you talking about?” he repeated in a hushed timbre.

“There isn’t anyone there, Chanyeol.”

During that moment, the world seemed to collapse and gather in a million pieces at the man’s feet. Each limb felt as if it had been mangled and torn off, leaving him weightless. Kyungsoo’s words blurred in the bright colors whipping past his oculars. There was only a single second

to look back for Baekhyun before his macrocosm became aphotic.