Lost You (in the Snow) and Found You (in the Flames) [2/3]

[bubblewoo]

Part 1 out of 3

Chanyeol’s eyelids flutter open and he sees stalactites overhead as he blinks the haziness away. He must have been unconscious for a long time, he thinks before his eyes widen and he sits up immediately. I’m still alive, his mind supplies, as he whips his head to look for the man, only to realise that his surroundings are different. He’s no longer near the mouth of the cave, judging from the complete absence of sunlight. Instead, the area, almost circular in shape, is illuminated by lit candles of varying sizes placed at various places- on stalagmites, on the floor, and on ledges. He does a double take when they land on the huge bed in the middle of the large room, and looks back to the floor he’s been lying on to see a pillow.

His hands fly to the back of his head and he feels bandages, dry and most likely clean, wrapped firmly around it, covering his forehead as well. He looks down at his body and notices that he’s been stripped of his armour; only his tunic and drawstring pants remain- both still smelling like sweat. Aside from his clothes, he feels clean, unlike how he usually feels after his sweat has dried up after training.

He stands up, almost stumbling from the vertigo that hits him, before he spies a figure on the bed that he failed to notice before and immediately freezes. It’s the man. He sighs in relief when he realises the man is asleep and he makes to find his way out of the room before pausing in his tracks- his armour, he can’t leave without it. Now that the pendant’s effect has worn off, he won’t be able to survive the journey back to the kingdom, or anywhere, without it. He tiptoes barefoot around the area, careful not to kick or step on a stray pebble before he finds his armour at the side of the bed. He gulps at the close proximity he’d have to be in and braces himself before bending down to retrieve it, his eyes constantly darting between the sword and the man.

His fingers wrap around the hilt and he manages to extricate it from the pile of armour noiselessly. Suddenly, an idea pops into his mind and he fixes his gaze on the sleeping man. He looks so vulnerable in this position, lying on his back with a serene look on his face, the muscles so relaxed that it takes away the severe expression he had sported earlier.

It’s inhumane and it goes against every code of ethics he’s ever been taught, but it’s also his only chance to defeat the dragon and come out of this alive and triumphant. His fingers tighten around the hilt and he mutters a silent prayer and an apology before striking down, aiming for the man’s long, exposed neck.

The blow doesn’t land on its target- in fact, it doesn’t land anywhere. His movements are halted, not because of the man’s sudden disappearance but because of the strong grip around his right wrist- the hand holding the sword- and his left forearm. He feels heat emanating in waves from behind him and he holds his breath.

“A knight, you say?” he hears a whisper from the man behind him, whose broad chest is pressed against his back, hot breath fanning across his ear and cheek, causing a shiver to run through his body. “What an honourable knight.”

Chanyeol’s rooted in place- not that it’s possible for him to move anything, and every muscle in his body tenses. He’s been caught in a despicable act, and now he can hardly say he’s a knight, let alone an honourable knight of Ferelden. Not when he’s breached the code of honour to do something so low and dirty.

He’s about to let his guard down and lower his head when he feels the fingers around his wrist tighten. A surge of panic runs through his body when he feels his hand being pulled closer, the blade moving towards him. Chanyeol tries letting go of the sword, but to no avail, the grip on his hand is so tight it’s cutting off his circulation to the point that he can’t even feel his own fingers. He tries wrenching his hand out of the man’s grip, but both of his hands are bound and he’s afraid that any attempt to struggle would hasten his death. He’s escaped death far too many times for this to not be the end.

“You might be human after all,” the man spits, and Chanyeol can hear the venom in his voice, making his hair stand on end. “Only humans would do something as low as betraying someone who’s helped them.”

Those words flick a switch in Chanyeol. He’s right- humans are the lowest of creatures, despite the hierarchy they established. They preach the code of ethics, mannerisms, and laws, but those are always broken at the end of the day. Chanyeol’s mind wanders to the elves, who submit their whole lives to their race, to the trolls who stand by each other through their triumphs and downfalls, and back to the humans. Humans, who claim to swear loyalty, only to end up betraying their rulers and comrades. Humans, who claim to always be kind and peaceful, yet wage war on other creatures and other humans, just for the sake of power and dominance.

He thinks back to Minseok, who doesn’t want him to return.

Tears prickle at the edges of his eyes, and he tilts his head back to prevent any from falling. He must not show weakness; that’s what he’s been trained to do. By Minseok, his mind supplies, and he shuts his eyes, willing the thoughts away.

He’s forced out of his thoughts when he feels cold, sharp metal against his throat and his left hand is released before his head is yanked back by the hair. With his neck bared and his muscles locked in place, he really feels like he’s at the end. Chanyeol wills himself not to wince when he feels the edge of the blade press against his throat in a line, drawing blood. One slice- that’s all that it will take to end his pitiful life. With bated breath, he waits for it to come.

But it doesn’t.

The sword is pulled away and the hold on him relinquishes. Chanyeol immediately crumples to the ground before he could hold himself back. He can hear the faint clatter of metal on the floor beside him as his whole body shake in tremors from the fear and immense relief. Tears escape the corners of his eyes. He can’t help it, not when he has almost died for the nth time in such a short period and escaped it, yet again.

A thought passes his mind. Why is he still alive, when the man in front of him is the man that is feared across the lands, the dragon who has terrorised the whole kingdom seventeen times over? Yifan the Destroyer spared his life three times, and he has no idea why, when so many innocent civilians and honourable knights have been killed without a second thought.

As if sensing his confusion, Chanyeol hears the man utter regretfully, “Your blood. It’s not human.” He slowly sits up on the cave floor and looks up at the man with a questioning look on his face.

“I can’t kill you if you’re not human. Not when I’m not one as well,” he says with a frown on his face, his thick eyebrows furrowed as his eyes roam over Chanyeol’s form. The knight feels so small under a powerful creature’s gaze.

“I-,” Chanyeol stuttered out hesitantly, unsure if he’s allowed to speak, but the explanation from the man is enough to make him continue. “I’m human,” he says resolutely.

“You’re not,” the man grits out, his eyes closed. He inhales deeply, as if he’s trying to gather all the patience he has. “There’s nothing human about your blood.” He crouches so he’s eye to eye with Chanyeol and his hand reaches forward. Chanyeol unconsciously backs away and the man tsks in annoyance before gripping Chanyeol’s shoulders and running a thumb over the cut on his neck. Chanyeol sees the crimson liquid on his thumb when he pulls his hand back.

“Look here, troll,” the man demands before showing his thumb to Chanyeol, which only earns him another questioning look. Groaning in frustration, the man points to the blood. “Look at this. What colour is this?” he asks in the same manner one would ask a child.

A brief thought of are dragons colour blind passes through his mind. “Red,” Chanyeol answers without a second thought and he knows that’s the wrong answer when the grip on his shoulder tightens almost painfully. “Look closer,” the man commands, and Chanyeol does, wondering if centuries of being alive has finally cracked the dragon as he squints his eyes. They widen when he finally notices it.

“Gold,” he breathes out, his eyes fixated on the metallic hints dotted in the expanse of red. He’s never bled before- the only time was in the cave entrance, and even that was too dark for him to see anything besides red properly. Now, in an illuminated room, he can clearly see the flecks of gold swirling in the stagnant blood.

“It can’t be,” he breathes out in a voice so soft, it’s barely above a whisper.

The man stands up, drawing himself to his full height. “It’s possible,” he says, as if he has heard him loud and clear. By now, Chanyeol is no longer surprised with the man’s capabilities.

“No, no it’s not. You don’t get it,” Chanyeol says, blinking and shaking his head as he also stands up and dusts his pants. “I’m human.” He tries to emphasise the last word, but even to his own ears, he sounds unconvincing.

“I’m human,” he tries again, although it comes out even weaker. Even he is unsure of who he is.

Chanyeol gulps and lifts his thumb, swiping across the cut on his neck. The rough skin accidentally tugs on the edge of the cut, tearing it wider in the process. He winces before looking at his thumb, still seeing red flecked with the one colour he’s been dreading to see: gold.

In a moment of insanity and desperation, his mind jumps to the conclusion that maybe this is normal. Maybe everyone else’s blood is red and gold as well, it’s just that no one’s been attentive enough to notice the gold. Yes, that must be it, Chanyeol says inwardly. There’s no other possible explanation. He must be human. He’s been raised as a human, fed as a human, trained as a human, and looks like a human. He is human.

Despite how hard he tries to convince himself that everyone else’s blood is the same colour as his, at the back of his mind, he knows for a fact that it’s not. He can still remember the day when Sir Minseok had returned from battle with a gash on his arm, dripping with dark red liquid. He remembers frantically attending to his teacher, pressing a white cloth on the wound and seeing it turn red without the glitters of gold. He knows that he’s the one that’s different.

Chanyeol’s at a loss. If he’s not human, then… what is he? His eyes widen in horror at the realisation that he’s considering the fact that he’s not human. Shaking his head to dispel the ridiculous thoughts, he wipes the blood on his tunic, pointedly refusing to see how the white fabric turns red with flecks of gold, a stark difference from Minseok’s.

“I’m human!” he suddenly yells, although he has no idea if he’s yelling at himself or at the man, who looks confused at the sudden outburst.

The man schools his expressions into his default look and explains calmly, as if sensing Chanyeol’s emotional turbulence, “You’re not, you’re probably a shifter.”

He doesn’t even know what a shifter is- how can he be one? “I’m not a shifter, I’ve been human all my life!” Chanyeol says, his voice getting higher as he picks up his sword from the floor, gripping the hilt and holding it in front of him threateningly. The man doesn’t even flinch or blink.

“I’m human,” Chanyeol repeats, his tone bordering on hysterical. As if to prove his point, he lifts up his left forearm and closes his eyes as he slices through the skin with the blade, drawing blood. It’s going to be red, because I’m human, he chants in his mind.

It is red, but there’s no denying the unmistakable glint in the red, even as it drips down his arms and splatters onto the floor. His stomach sinks and his hold on his sword loosens. In his haze, he doesn’t even register the sound of it clattering to the floor, nor does he register strong arms pulling him forward to press a white cloth on the bleeding gash, staining it red and gold.

In his mind, only the words I’m not human are visible. It’s impossible, yet it’s the only possible explanation for the colour of his blood. His mind flashes back to all the years he’s been alive and he still has no recollection of being something other than human. The only clue that might have indicated that he isn’t human is just the magic from the pendant that protects him from any injuries, which are fading away, judging from the pain he feels on his forearm and neck.

He’s been treated and raised like a human ever since he can remember, even though he was separated from the others.

You’re too young, is what they said to him when a five-year old Chanyeol had asked why he couldn’t join the new recruits in the training grounds. They didn’t look any different from him, just older. Maybe around eleven.

You’re too strong for them, is what Sir Minseok had said when he was older than the new recruits. He had been waiting ever since he grew taller than the tallest recruit, but it had been two years and he was still training alone.

Back then, he accepted everything without defiance, without thought, because Sir Minseok is a Sir, so he must be correct all the time. Now, he realises as he stands in a cave, covered in splatters of his own blood, he should have noticed how differently they treated him. He briefly wonders if Sir Minseok knew this, then he chastises himself. Of course he did.

Of course they would send someone not human to kill off a dragon. No human has ever survived after attacking one. In fact, no creature has survived trying to go against one. What makes them think Chanyeol is special enough to kill this one off? Or is it just that Chanyeol is disposable because he’s not human? He thinks back to all the moments he had laughed with Sir Minseok and had felt like he belonged. It’s all just an elaborate lie. He’s dispensable.

What is he then? What makes him so different from the elves and trolls that he was trained his whole life by the war general himself?

Slowly, he looks up to meet the man’s eyes, which are trained on him. He detects a semblance of relief in the electric blue, a hint of emotion that vanishes with a blink. Only now does he notice the cloth wrapped around his forearm.

“What am I?” he asks weakly. Since he’s already established and is slowly accepting the fact that he’s not human, the question of what exactly he is bugs him.

The man's expression remain stoic as he answers the question, betraying no emotions. "A shifter, like I said."

Chanyeol’s eyebrows furrow. Even though he has no idea what a shifter is, the word is self-explanatory. For him to be a shifter, he must have shifted into another creature, but he’d have noticed if he had suddenly shifted into another species.

The man seems to be able to read his mind, because he continues. "You probably shifted into a human before you could remember. Although that's rarely heard of, it does happen when forced."

“Forced? How does one exactly force a shifter to… shift?” he asks tentatively, his eyes tracing over his skin for anything that might give away the fact that there’s something else underneath, something not human.

“Magic,” the man answers, pointing to the pendant around Chanyeol’s neck. “Strong, dark magic.”

Chanyeol’s eyes widen and his uninjured hand immediately flies up to the pendant, holding it up to his eyes so he can inspect it more closely, although he’s done that more than a handful of times already. He knows every curve and pattern engraved into it, or at least he thought he did. Although he can feel the energy thrum from it, he can’t sense anything dark about it. If anything, it feels comforting. Also, why would his own mother protect him with dark magic? Love is supposed to be pure, the complete opposite of dark.

Another question pops into his mind, and with that, many others. Was his mother a shifter too? Was that why she forced him to shift? So he would be safe even after she’s gone?

He blinks at the realisation that suddenly dawns on him and he looks at the man, his eyes glassy and moist. He’s never had an emotional bond with his mother, but now that he knows what he is, he understands his mother’s sacrifice and love. Why she used dark magic, however, is still a huge question mark.

“My mother,” he chokes out. “My mother shifted me.”

The word shifted feels strange on his tongue. He might have stopped denying the fact that he’s not human, but he’s not ready to embrace it just yet.

“Troll,” the man says, calling for Chanyeol’s attention. “Shifters don’t have parents. They come from eggs.”

Chanyeol frowns. Was this dragon deprived of a mother’s attention? “My mother who laid me as an egg,” he says, enunciating his words clearly.

“We’re not laid, troll. We’re formed from magic. We’re made from the essences of the Earth, from Mother Nature herself,” the man explains, scooping up a handful of dirt. “That’s why I can do this.”

Chanyeol’s eyes are transfixed on the pebbles and dust levitating above the man’s open palm, but his brain processes a word that forces him to tear his gaze away from the display of magic.

“We?” Chanyeol asks in an incredulous voice. Since when is a dragon a shifter?

The man drops his hand with a sigh and the pebbles fall to the floor instantly, rolling to his feet as the dust settles over them slowly. “Didn’t you see me shift from a dragon to a human?” he asks, thinly veiled sarcasm in his voice.

Oh. Well, that makes sense, Chanyeol thinks. He looks at his own skin and wonders if there’s a dragon under this pale expanse of human skin, although he doesn’t have the slightest idea of what shifters can actually shift into.

“So I can… shift into a dragon as well?” he asks, his voice slightly hopeful. The thought of being able to escape this uncoordinated body and morph into a majestic, graceful creature is suddenly very appealing, even though he was calling the man a beast earlier.

The man tsks in a mocking tone, but there’s a hint of a smile playing on his lips, and Chanyeol is struck with how attractive he looks when he’s not trying to look menacing.

“Don’t go too far. You can only shift into what you were born as, and I’ve seen shifters that are minotaurs or harpies,” he says, making Chanyeol wince. He doesn’t want to shift into something more beastly than a dragon. “I’ve also seen a phoenix shifter.” That makes Chanyeol exhale in relief. He can deal with being a phoenix.

“In your case, we have to get rid of that dark magic before you can shift into anything,” the man continues.

He looks back at the pendant he's holding. Dark magic.

"This isn’t from my mother, is it?" he asks, eyeing the pendant curiously. Aside from the fact that he has no mother, he can’t see any reason why a mother would curse her own child.

"No, the essences are different. They're human. Someone obviously wants you alive, but not for a good reason. You can't shift with that dark magic still around."

Chanyeol tries pulling the chain over his head, but it's too small and ends up getting stuck around his jaw instead. He tugs on it, but the metal won't yield. He chances a glance at his sword, wondering if that would do the trick.

"You can't take it off. We have to undo the curse first, but my magic can't get through it easily," the man says.

"We?" Chanyeol asks again, turning an imploring gaze on the man. It’s the third time he’s heard that word.

"We," the man says with a smile, holding out his hand for Chanyeol to take. "It's been awhile since I've met someone of my own kin, brother."

Chanyeol almost chokes up at the last word as he grasps the large hand with his own slightly smaller hand. Unlike before, when he was trapped , he feels a surge of coolness course through his body from the contact. Brother. It’s the first time he feels that he belongs somewhere.

↭

The following day, both of them are determined to come up with a way to break the curse. Chanyeol is roused from his sleep with a nudge to his arm and he looks up to see electric blue eyes staring at him.

“Up. We’re going to make you shift today, brother.”

“Chanyeol,” Chanyeol murmurs in reply as he sits up, rubbing the sleep away from his eyes.

“What?” the man- Yifan- asks, his eyebrows furrowed. He seems to do to that a lot.

Chanyeol knows that the man is Yifan the Destroyer, but to call him that name does not bode well with Chanyeol, especially when the name is a taboo back in the kingdom. He has to bite his tongue multiple times to stop himself from calling him ’the Destroyer’ after the ‘Yifan’.

“I’m Chanyeol,” he says as he stands up. “Just in case you didn’t know,” he adds quickly. He has no idea what kind of foreseeing magic a dragon has, but since he didn’t believe he was from Ferelden, he’d say not that much.

They step out of the cave just as the sun peeks over the mountains in the horizon, the early rays warming them up pleasantly. The cave might have been warm when he first entered it, but Chanyeol didn’t expect it to cool down so much during the night. He wishes that Yifan had let him sleep next to him on the bed instead of leaving him to shiver on the floor.

They start out fairly easy- using physical means to force the chain to break or to smash the pendant- all to no avail. Chanyeol even suggested they use Yifan’s sword, after his failed to do the job. Yifan’s obsidian sword didn’t even scratch the steel chain. When the sun is almost above their heads and both Chanyeol and Yifan are sweating and exhausted, they decide to take it inside, where the air is cooler. So the heat from yesterday was magic.

Both of them realise now that physical means aren’t enough to break the pendant. They’ll have to break the curse another way. Yifan takes Chanyeol to another part of the cave, which makes him wonder how big the cave is. This part is secluded and it’s lined from the floor to the ceiling with bookshelves- all full of books.

He’s fascinated by the amount of books in this place and his mind briefly flits to Sir Minseok. He’d be ecstatic to see these books. Yifan’s collection is even bigger than the library in the royal palace.

Chanyeol shakes his head as he picks a relatively thin book. He shouldn’t be thinking about Minseok or the kingdom. They used me, he thinks as he opens the book to look for any curse that looks vaguely similar to the one on him.

They don’t have clear characteristics to search for, but they know that it requires a huge amount of magic, it protects him, and it forces a shifter to shift permanently- they had discussed it the night before as they settled in to sleep. Yifan also thought that the magic was fading when Chanyeol told him about how he’s never been injured before, and that also narrowed their scope. Not that it helps.

By the end of the day, Chanyeol’s eyes are rimmed with red from reading so many words in such a short time. He is, no, was a knight, not a scholar. He’s used to training all day, not reading. He’s hungry, tired, and in his mind is only the floor and pillow he used the previous night.

He chances a glance at Yifan, who seems to be unaffected even with the amount of time that has passed. He doesn’t even look tired, Chanyeol thinks as his eyes follow Yifan, who is flitting around from bookshelf to bookshelf, opening up books and conjuring up spells that involve the earth and blowing out small flames from his mouth. At first, Chanyeol had looked on with envy at Yifan’s ability and it spurred him to read more, wanting to shift quickly so he can do those as well. But now, with his eyes straining just to keep themselves open, he wishes for one of two things: that he has Yifan’s energy reserve, or Yifan his.

How long can a dragon go without food or rest?, he asks himself.

“Let’s stop here for today,” Chanyeol suggests in a tired voice after a few more minutes of watching Yifan conjure up a spell, only to frown at it and let the fire fizzle out weakly, again.

Chanyeol has long given up on looking for the curse on the pendant, much less working on the countercurse. Based on the reading he did, he knows that Yifan is at a loss too- this curse has nothing earthly about it at all, and it needs the same element to undo it. Not even Yifan’s strongest spell can break this one. They need a human to undo this, not someone who’s a sorcerer or a priest, just someone who has the same essence.

The shifter doesn’t even seem to listen to him as he picks up another book, thicker than the volumes Chanyeol has seen the scholars carry around the castle. He sighs when Yifan starts flipping the pages, knowing that nothing will come up.

“Yifan,” Chanyeol calls tentatively, still not used to how the name rolls off his tongue without the title. He’s still not accustomed to calling him in a tone that doesn’t imply fear, much less in a friendly manner.

The man in question closes the book with a loud snap, effectively causing Chanyeol, who’s slouched over a table, to sit up straight. His electric blue eyes are fixed on Chanyeol’s tired, brown ones.

“Look, troll,” Yifan spits out. “I’m actually trying to help you here.”

So he is affected by this, Chanyeol concludes after seeing the lines of dark blue crackling from his irises into the whites of his eyes. Yifan is angry and frustrated, and judging by the ever present furrow on his eyebrows, he must have known that no amount of reading could undo the curse.

“We both know that it can’t be undone,” Chanyeol replies, trying his best to make Yifan stop because Chanyeol is also frustrated, although not as much as Yifan.

“Shut up, troll. Every curse has a countercurse,” Yifan almost snarls and Chanyeol can feel the ground beneath him tremor, but it doesn’t stop him from spitting out his next words. He has no patience to deal with being called troll every single time. He told him that his name is Chanyeol. And Yifan has no right to let his anger out at him.

“No you shut up! I’m tired, and we both might be shifters, but I’m not a monster like you, so I need my rest,” he says, walking around the pile of books to stand in front of Yifan, drawing himself to his full height, although it doesn’t have the desired effect. Yifan still intimidates him, even more so with the clear lines of electric blue in his eyes.

“You know what?” he continues, jabbing a finger into Yifan’s chest. He tries not to think about how broad it is or how firm it feels under his finger. “I’m quitting. I survived for eighteen years without shifting, and I’ll be fine staying human for the rest of my life!”

That’s partially true. While a huge part of him wants to shift and get rid of the curse so he can finally find a place where he belongs and doesn’t have to train his entire life, another part of him doesn’t want to shift. What if he shifts into something worse than a human? What will he do then? Worse, what if he can’t shift back? Where will he go? At least if he’s still in this form, he can blend in with other humans in another kingdom. He’s got a good physique and he’s capable; he can get a job easily.

He stomps outside of the area and walks the distance to the entrance the cave, ignoring how the tremor beneath his feet have stopped. He tries to ignore the disappointment in his chest when Yifan doesn’t call for him.

“I can survive just fine without him,” he mutters to himself as he reaches the mouth of the cave, stepping out into the darkness. His eyes accustom to it quickly, having trained in the dark for countless nights. He peeks over the edge to see if his stallion is still there- he didn’t see it this morning. He clucks his tongue and listens carefully for any indication that it’s still waiting. No such luck.

So much for being faithful, he snorts to himself as he makes his way down the hill slowly.

I don’t need anyone or any animal. I can survive just fine. And I definitely don’t need a moody dragon., he thinks.

↭

It turns out, Chanyeol does need Yifan, he realises as he slowly scales the hill again with a rumbling stomach. It’s not as cool as when he left the cave, now that the sun is already above the mountains in the horizon. The harsh afternoon rays hit Chanyeol directly and sweat beads on his forehead and the back of his neck. His wounds are not the only ones getting irritated from the heat.

Chanyeol mutters curses as he continues jumping from ledge to ledge, thankful that he can do this easily. Most of the curses are directed at himself. How could he have forgotten to bring his armour, and most importantly, his sword? Even if he is, no, was a prestigious knight, how can he find something to eat without a weapon?

Not that he didn’t try. He knows fully well now that a stone isn’t a good enough weapon to kill a deer. He tries not to think about how he had sat next to an injured deer in the middle of the night and apologised to it for breaking its leg, avoiding its judgemental stare as he had stroked the fur. He yanks angrily at the pendant. If it wasn’t for this, he could have shifted into something more powerful. Something with claws that could actually kill a deer.

Chanyeol stands at the mouth of the cave, debating if he should go inside. Another growl from his stomach decides for him; he hasn’t eaten since before he got into the cave yesterday, so it’s been more than a full day.

With a groan, he shuffles into the cave, trying to be as silent as he can, although he knows Yifan can sense him. When he reaches the room- the one where he sleeps- a delicious scent wafts into his nose. Food

Without further hesitation, he steps into the room only to see Yifan looking at him with a raised eyebrow and an impassive look on his face, although his eyes betray his amusement. Chanyeol can feel the heat rise all the way to the tips of his ears from embarrassment, but that doesn’t stop him from advancing. He spies a piece of food- meat- and he doesn’t care how Yifan got it or which animal it came from. All he cares about is that this man has a plateful of it, and he needs food desperately.

“Back so soon, troll? I thought you’d have more pride than that,” Yifan says in a bored tone before he bites into a piece of meat, closing his eyes as he chews slowly. Chanyeol bets his sword that he’s only doing it to piss him off.

“Shut up, lizard,” Chanyeol mutters loud enough for Yifan to hear as he plops onto the floor in front of him, taking a piece from the plate for himself. Judging from how Yifan stopped chewing to glare at him, he heard it. Aha, he hit a spot, he thinks gleefully as he bites into the piece, a moan of delight escaping his lips at the taste of juicy meat filling his mouth.

↭
Part 3 out of 3