Exhumation
Pairing: sexing
Rated: pg-13
Genre: au, slightly angsty
Length: 1300 words
Summary: If Sehun is a cat, then curiosity has already killed his nine lives.
10 mg
The wind, the fickle wind cradles Sehun, rocking back and forth until the trees look like broccoli heads and the ant-people zip in and out of matchbox houses. Or maybe they're more like worker bees, serving an elusive queen. He doesn't know, can't comprehend (or just doesn't want to admit) the insignificance of it all. He wants, needs to believe that the ant-people each have their own stories as they step into toy cars.
He tries not to take it personally, but the world doesn't even acknowledge his disappearance. Ant-people keep scurrying about, too busy to look up, too preoccupied to see the boy cradled by wind. They must really like their matchbox houses and their toy cars that take them to more matchbox houses. Is rest only allowed for the broccoli trees?
20 mg
It's quieter up here, Sehun notices, except for the swish and swoosh of the wind. It drowns out his thoughts and whisks them away with the breeze. So peaceful. Perhaps this is where people are reincarnated into broccoli trees. Is that why Sehun is here? Although he doesn't remember dying, he doesn't remember much of anything. That's the price he pays for the wind.
He doesn't know who, what, where, when, why, or how. The only thing he's sure of is that the roads look like the thin lines of a maze and that the green, green grass is everywhere. Sehun laughs because the lakes are just like the puddles on the bathroom floor after Yixing takes a shower. Since Yixing never towels off his hair, droplets of water fall from his strands onto the cold, white tile.
Sehun knows that Yixing, even if he's down there somewhere, isn't an ant-person. He's above matchbox houses and toy cars. He's above Sehun, who's among the clouds right now.
30 mg
That's when Sehun first notices the clouds. He's been so preoccupied with the miniature world below that he hasn't realized there’s a fluffy world surrounding him. Sehun wants to touch a cloud. He has to touch a cloud. If he doesn't, he just might go crazy, if he isn't already. Need burns brightly within him, almost painful. It's slowly becoming unbearable, this small whim that grows into an exponential desire.
Ever since his preschool days-that sweet slice of childhood when Yixing was taller than him and taught him how to color outside of the lines-Sehun has wondered what clouds felt like. He would draw them with white crayons on white paper. Sehun would study his drawings in clenched, little hands and wonder how the clouds could be there but not there. Were clouds as soft as Yixing's hair? Would he ever be able to touch them? Surely they weren't this waxy, he would muse when he ran his fingers over the paper.
Now that the wind cradles him in the sky, he can finally find out. Sehun stretches his arm; just a single touch is all he wants. He reaches, reaches, wills his fingertips to graze against the side of the cloud. Finally, he touches it, and when it shocks him, Sehun realizes where his thoughts have gone. All his doubts, all his insecurities, all his hopes, and all his dreams are trapped inside of that cloud.
40 mg
As his thoughts grow fuzzier, he realizes that his memories of Yixing are also filling up the cloud. Slowly, slowly, Yixing's face fades into a gray mist, and Sehun can't tell him apart from the ant-people.
Did Yixing ever exist, or did Sehun just make him up?
When he tries to conjure up an image of Yixing, the fragments he finds can't be pieced together. They're too jagged, and they cut into his fingers. It hurts. Why does it hurt?
Still, Sehun wants to know about this Yixing and why, even if he can't remember what he looks like, his heart beats a little faster at the thought of his name.
50 mg
Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing,
Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing,
Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing,
Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing,
Yixing, Yixing,Yixing.
Sehun keeps repeating the name in his head until it no longer holds any meaning.
60 mg
So what more can he do than open Pandora's box?
70 mg
With determination and blunt fingernails, he claws at the cloud, but it clearly doesn't want to relinquish his memories. Sehun has paid a price. He can't just take it back. As a reprimand, the cloud shoots electricity up his arms. He gasps, but an image of Yixing, eyes closed and head tilted up toward the sun in a quiet smile, flashes in his mind, and that's enough for Sehun to fight back. He keeps clawing, fighting, and finally prevailing. When he punctures the cloud, it hisses angrily, practically screeches before it deflates with a sad whimper.
Sehun cries out and clutches his head in his hands. The pressure is too much. All of the memories and feelings and thoughts flood into his mind. The sensory overload overwhelms him to the point where he can't process anything, and it's painful to blink. Everything screams Yixing, Yixing, Yixing. It hurts. It hurts to remember. Maybe this is why he wanted to forget and let the wind whisk him away.
Sehun sees another cloud nearby and rips it open. He tries to stuff his memories into the cloud because he’s suddenly feeling really, really heavy. If he doesn’t get rid of these thoughts, his head will burst from the pressure. A wave of nausea rolls over him, and a hammer is pounding the inside of his head.
He desperately expels everything into the cloud, but it’s just a flimsy sack that suddenly regurgitates, and now everything weighs Sehun down like an anchor. His own thoughts betray him as they drag him out of the sky, and he’s free-falling.
80 mg
Now the wind is unforgiving. It burns his face and whips wildly through his hair. This is what happens when you don't pay the price, the wind taunts. This is what happens when you take back what is no longer yours. This is what happens when you open Pandora’s box.
As a last wish, Sehun wants to at least land on a broccoli tree. Instead, his body hurls to the ground with a sickening thud because the green, green grass is everywhere.
Everything, from his smashed skull to each of his snapped limbs, hurts now. The impact has left him as a sack of bones, yet he's still thinking, still feeling. He's there but not there. Perhaps suffering in this half-alive, half-dead state is his penance. This is the true price for forsaking the wind. It's only when his vision blurs, and he's slowly going blind that Sehun can only hope that this is the end.
90 mg
However, life drags him back up to the surface. When Sehun's vision clears, he finds his cheek pressed against cold, white tile. Yixing's puddles have long since evaporated from the bathroom floor. Instead, there's a pill bottle, curiously empty.
Sehun thinks he hears the creak of a door and Yixing crying out. Or maybe it's just the wind taunting him.
A/N: The more I try to fix this, the more it breaks. Kind of like my bio grade.
Rated: pg-13
Genre: au, slightly angsty
Length: 1300 words
Summary: If Sehun is a cat, then curiosity has already killed his nine lives.
10 mg
The wind, the fickle wind cradles Sehun, rocking back and forth until the trees look like broccoli heads and the ant-people zip in and out of matchbox houses. Or maybe they're more like worker bees, serving an elusive queen. He doesn't know, can't comprehend (or just doesn't want to admit) the insignificance of it all. He wants, needs to believe that the ant-people each have their own stories as they step into toy cars.
He tries not to take it personally, but the world doesn't even acknowledge his disappearance. Ant-people keep scurrying about, too busy to look up, too preoccupied to see the boy cradled by wind. They must really like their matchbox houses and their toy cars that take them to more matchbox houses. Is rest only allowed for the broccoli trees?
20 mg
It's quieter up here, Sehun notices, except for the swish and swoosh of the wind. It drowns out his thoughts and whisks them away with the breeze. So peaceful. Perhaps this is where people are reincarnated into broccoli trees. Is that why Sehun is here? Although he doesn't remember dying, he doesn't remember much of anything. That's the price he pays for the wind.
He doesn't know who, what, where, when, why, or how. The only thing he's sure of is that the roads look like the thin lines of a maze and that the green, green grass is everywhere. Sehun laughs because the lakes are just like the puddles on the bathroom floor after Yixing takes a shower. Since Yixing never towels off his hair, droplets of water fall from his strands onto the cold, white tile.
Sehun knows that Yixing, even if he's down there somewhere, isn't an ant-person. He's above matchbox houses and toy cars. He's above Sehun, who's among the clouds right now.
30 mg
That's when Sehun first notices the clouds. He's been so preoccupied with the miniature world below that he hasn't realized there’s a fluffy world surrounding him. Sehun wants to touch a cloud. He has to touch a cloud. If he doesn't, he just might go crazy, if he isn't already. Need burns brightly within him, almost painful. It's slowly becoming unbearable, this small whim that grows into an exponential desire.
Ever since his preschool days-that sweet slice of childhood when Yixing was taller than him and taught him how to color outside of the lines-Sehun has wondered what clouds felt like. He would draw them with white crayons on white paper. Sehun would study his drawings in clenched, little hands and wonder how the clouds could be there but not there. Were clouds as soft as Yixing's hair? Would he ever be able to touch them? Surely they weren't this waxy, he would muse when he ran his fingers over the paper.
Now that the wind cradles him in the sky, he can finally find out. Sehun stretches his arm; just a single touch is all he wants. He reaches, reaches, wills his fingertips to graze against the side of the cloud. Finally, he touches it, and when it shocks him, Sehun realizes where his thoughts have gone. All his doubts, all his insecurities, all his hopes, and all his dreams are trapped inside of that cloud.
40 mg
As his thoughts grow fuzzier, he realizes that his memories of Yixing are also filling up the cloud. Slowly, slowly, Yixing's face fades into a gray mist, and Sehun can't tell him apart from the ant-people.
Did Yixing ever exist, or did Sehun just make him up?
When he tries to conjure up an image of Yixing, the fragments he finds can't be pieced together. They're too jagged, and they cut into his fingers. It hurts. Why does it hurt?
Still, Sehun wants to know about this Yixing and why, even if he can't remember what he looks like, his heart beats a little faster at the thought of his name.
50 mg
Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing,
Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing,
Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing,
Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing,
Yixing, Yixing,Yixing.
Sehun keeps repeating the name in his head until it no longer holds any meaning.
60 mg
So what more can he do than open Pandora's box?
70 mg
With determination and blunt fingernails, he claws at the cloud, but it clearly doesn't want to relinquish his memories. Sehun has paid a price. He can't just take it back. As a reprimand, the cloud shoots electricity up his arms. He gasps, but an image of Yixing, eyes closed and head tilted up toward the sun in a quiet smile, flashes in his mind, and that's enough for Sehun to fight back. He keeps clawing, fighting, and finally prevailing. When he punctures the cloud, it hisses angrily, practically screeches before it deflates with a sad whimper.
Sehun cries out and clutches his head in his hands. The pressure is too much. All of the memories and feelings and thoughts flood into his mind. The sensory overload overwhelms him to the point where he can't process anything, and it's painful to blink. Everything screams Yixing, Yixing, Yixing. It hurts. It hurts to remember. Maybe this is why he wanted to forget and let the wind whisk him away.
Sehun sees another cloud nearby and rips it open. He tries to stuff his memories into the cloud because he’s suddenly feeling really, really heavy. If he doesn’t get rid of these thoughts, his head will burst from the pressure. A wave of nausea rolls over him, and a hammer is pounding the inside of his head.
He desperately expels everything into the cloud, but it’s just a flimsy sack that suddenly regurgitates, and now everything weighs Sehun down like an anchor. His own thoughts betray him as they drag him out of the sky, and he’s free-falling.
80 mg
Now the wind is unforgiving. It burns his face and whips wildly through his hair. This is what happens when you don't pay the price, the wind taunts. This is what happens when you take back what is no longer yours. This is what happens when you open Pandora’s box.
As a last wish, Sehun wants to at least land on a broccoli tree. Instead, his body hurls to the ground with a sickening thud because the green, green grass is everywhere.
Everything, from his smashed skull to each of his snapped limbs, hurts now. The impact has left him as a sack of bones, yet he's still thinking, still feeling. He's there but not there. Perhaps suffering in this half-alive, half-dead state is his penance. This is the true price for forsaking the wind. It's only when his vision blurs, and he's slowly going blind that Sehun can only hope that this is the end.
90 mg
However, life drags him back up to the surface. When Sehun's vision clears, he finds his cheek pressed against cold, white tile. Yixing's puddles have long since evaporated from the bathroom floor. Instead, there's a pill bottle, curiously empty.
Sehun thinks he hears the creak of a door and Yixing crying out. Or maybe it's just the wind taunting him.
A/N: The more I try to fix this, the more it breaks. Kind of like my bio grade.