006. Burn
Heechul/Yesung
Completed: 12/27/07
6/100
Rating: PG-PG-13, because of angst and obsessive behavior.
First angst-fic. :x
(Hey, let's go to the archive!)
Stillness bled into the silence. There was nothing. He could hardly hear his heart as it panicked in his chest cavity.
There was a computer humming in one of the bedrooms. Its mechanical noise made him nervous. Made him press send before the last three numbers were punched in. Thank god he was without a real schedule like the others. No one was in the dorm except him. But the sound was still like an accusation. His mind trembled with a series of paranoid thoughts, but then cleared.
His fingers shook as he dialed, aiding him in jumbling the numbers. He missed the cancel button three times. He cursed.
Cancel. He tried again, trying to still his quaking fingers on the dial pad. It would be easier just to hit the right button, to have the phone autodial. But he couldn’t do that. If he didn’t do it this way, manually, it’d feel trivial. The one on the other line would know, even if it were impossible for him to know. Then he’d never answer.
He pressed cancel. His fingers throbbed as he forced them to dial again. Each number whispered electronically as he tapped them. Is this all you can think of to do? No mistakes this time, though. He checked the cruel little display of the phone, and this time the numbers seemed right. Send.
Against his cheek, the phone was cold. A secret well behind his eyes was beginning to burn.
Ring.
He whispered against the mouthpiece, lips kissing the chill plastic.
“Hyung, don’t hang up this time. Please. I know I’m making you angry again, I know I’ve called too many times.” Please, God. Please pick up. I’ll do anything if you’ll just pick up.
Ring.
“It was all a mistake, a big, stupid, Jongwoon mistake.” He laughed apologetically. Please. Pick up. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. His senses were full of the slight form, overwhelmed with the scent and taste of fading kisses. His memories were full of bad impressions, loud conversations, gleeful arguments that ended with a playful slap. Their public image never showed just how close they’d become. It’d never show how far apart they were now. “You know how I can be…”
Ring.
“If I didn’t care, I wouldn’t have called you so many times. I wouldn’t have wasted my time.” Please answer. Anything. I’ll do anything. “ If you can just give me five minutes, I know it can be like it used to be. Remember?”
Ring,
“Hello?”
His breath caught painfully in his throat at that voice, the only voice. His own had vanished. Anything he thought to say before left him that instant. “ Hyung, please-”
“I’m a busy man, so whatever you have to say will have to wait for these magnificent ears to become less busified. Leave your King a quick message, but not too long. You don’t want to bore me, do you? -YAH, Kyung-ah, how would you know it’s not a word, you little- ”
Voicemail.
Yesung let the phone slip from his hand. He didn’t care that it tumbled to the ground, cracking in protest at his clumsiness. His eyes had begun shedding liquid pain in rivulets of fire, each tear burning a new streak down his face. Everything else was numb, except the love that was nagging him to pick up the phone. Try again.
A little voice laughed inside him, somewhere, somewhere he wished he could just tear out. If only saying sorry was like pushing cancel and trying again.
Completed: 12/27/07
6/100
Rating: PG-PG-13, because of angst and obsessive behavior.
First angst-fic. :x
(Hey, let's go to the archive!)
Stillness bled into the silence. There was nothing. He could hardly hear his heart as it panicked in his chest cavity.
There was a computer humming in one of the bedrooms. Its mechanical noise made him nervous. Made him press send before the last three numbers were punched in. Thank god he was without a real schedule like the others. No one was in the dorm except him. But the sound was still like an accusation. His mind trembled with a series of paranoid thoughts, but then cleared.
His fingers shook as he dialed, aiding him in jumbling the numbers. He missed the cancel button three times. He cursed.
Cancel. He tried again, trying to still his quaking fingers on the dial pad. It would be easier just to hit the right button, to have the phone autodial. But he couldn’t do that. If he didn’t do it this way, manually, it’d feel trivial. The one on the other line would know, even if it were impossible for him to know. Then he’d never answer.
He pressed cancel. His fingers throbbed as he forced them to dial again. Each number whispered electronically as he tapped them. Is this all you can think of to do? No mistakes this time, though. He checked the cruel little display of the phone, and this time the numbers seemed right. Send.
Against his cheek, the phone was cold. A secret well behind his eyes was beginning to burn.
Ring.
He whispered against the mouthpiece, lips kissing the chill plastic.
“Hyung, don’t hang up this time. Please. I know I’m making you angry again, I know I’ve called too many times.” Please, God. Please pick up. I’ll do anything if you’ll just pick up.
Ring.
“It was all a mistake, a big, stupid, Jongwoon mistake.” He laughed apologetically. Please. Pick up. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. His senses were full of the slight form, overwhelmed with the scent and taste of fading kisses. His memories were full of bad impressions, loud conversations, gleeful arguments that ended with a playful slap. Their public image never showed just how close they’d become. It’d never show how far apart they were now. “You know how I can be…”
Ring.
“If I didn’t care, I wouldn’t have called you so many times. I wouldn’t have wasted my time.” Please answer. Anything. I’ll do anything. “ If you can just give me five minutes, I know it can be like it used to be. Remember?”
Ring,
“Hello?”
His breath caught painfully in his throat at that voice, the only voice. His own had vanished. Anything he thought to say before left him that instant. “ Hyung, please-”
“I’m a busy man, so whatever you have to say will have to wait for these magnificent ears to become less busified. Leave your King a quick message, but not too long. You don’t want to bore me, do you? -YAH, Kyung-ah, how would you know it’s not a word, you little- ”
Voicemail.
Yesung let the phone slip from his hand. He didn’t care that it tumbled to the ground, cracking in protest at his clumsiness. His eyes had begun shedding liquid pain in rivulets of fire, each tear burning a new streak down his face. Everything else was numb, except the love that was nagging him to pick up the phone. Try again.
A little voice laughed inside him, somewhere, somewhere he wished he could just tear out. If only saying sorry was like pushing cancel and trying again.