drabble collection #1
1 - we're going to be fine, fine, fine.
pairing; kyuhyun/sungmin
rating; g
genre; romance
length; 420 words
summary; sungmin is tired, but he has kyuhyun and everything is fine.
"kyuhyun," sungmin says one day, right after their busy schedules when they're just relaxing in their shared room, enjoying the rare period of free time they've somehow managed to wrangle from their hectic lives.
"what?" kyuhyun's already used to the random outbursts, the times where sungmin would just burst out with unexpected questions or tell him weird things at weird times. it's a quirk, he guesses, but it doesn't make sungmin any less endearing.
"i'm so tired," sungmin murmurs, sprawled out on the bed, sounding almost dreamy, yet there is nothing ethereal or tranquil about his words and the situation they're in. they've just finished super shows in south america, four shows in brazil, argentina, chile and peru respectively. try taking twenty plus hours to fly halfway across the world before having to start rehearsals almost immediately, kyuhyun grouses mentally. not that he'd ever admit it, though; he knows just how precious rehearsal time is, how grateful he should be for the opportunities and chances that have come his way, how perfect an idol he should be. still, nothing will stop sungmin from looking so exhausted, so positively burnt out.
"I know," kyuhyun says, settling down next to him and stroking his still-damp hair gently. "why don't you go to sleep? i guarantee you'll feel better in the morning if you do." Sungmin's hair feels so different on and off stage - during performances, his brown hair is full of gel, spiked up into whatever style they're designated to have for that day. off stage, however, when it's just the two of them and nobody else, Sungmin's hair is flat, yet slightly tousled because he constantly runs his hands through it (and so does kyuhyun, but that's a secret nobody needs to know except the two of them).
"mmm," sungmin hums, closing his eyes for a moment, blocking out the yellowish fluorescent light of their hotel room. "you sure? it's only 9 pm now."
"yeah. c'mon. I suggest you sleep now, because you never sleep well on planes and it's a long flight back to Seoul." kyuhyun grabs the edge of the quilt and throws it over sungmin, making sure he's warm and comfortable before slipping under it himself. fumbling for the switch on the wall beside him, he flicks it off, plunging them into soothing, relieving darkness.
"thanks," sungmin mutters more than says out loud, but kyuhyun knows in that one word there are infinite 'thank-you's and immense gratefulness. and so, all he does is smile and say, "goodnight hyung."
2 - shine bright
pairing; donghae/hyukjae
rating; g
genre; angst
length; 568 words
summary; eunhyuk and hyukjae aren't the same person, but donghae chooses to hold on anyway.
donghae doesn't know whether or not there's hyukjae anymore. he knows that eunhyuk is shining brightly now, sparkling and shimmering on stage. basking in the glory of the lights and sapphire blue sea and the screams of fans. every concert they chant his name, 'lee hyukjae, lee hyukjae,' over and over again until it sounds almost like a mantra. but what donghae wants to tell them, wants so desperately to scream in their face, is that he's not sure whether lee hyukjae actually exists anymore. for all he knows, lee hyukjae is just another artefact of the past, broken and buried under the glitzy mask of eunhyuk.
donghae remembers hyukjae (because he simply refuses to call him 'eunhyuk') from their trainee days. he remembers that hyukjae always stuck to sungmin (yet now hyukjae seems to have pushed sungmin away as well), the two boys inseparable. he remembers the way hyukjae flashed a timid smile at him when he entered the room, even though he was with sungmin and donghae was with nobody. he remembers losing his footing while practising his dance routines and hitting the smooth wooden floor knees-first with a resounding 'thump' (the first of countless times he'd fall) and hyukjae throwing concerned glances over, mouthing 'are you okay' and reciting words of encouragement to him.
donghae remembers hyukjae, the crybaby who sobbed buckets the day he found out about super junior. the boy before the makeup hair gel leather jackets and everything the stylists force them into. the boy with the small eyes and sharp chin and funny smile. the boy who held his hand through the tough times and told him that they'd be fine, fine, fine.
"c'mon donghae, pick yourself up. we're going to be okay. we'll debut someday, and in the future we'll be the biggest stars the world has ever known."
he still remembers those words from what, eight years ago? and he's kicking himself for being so foolish, so stupid, so idiotic for believing that things would stay the same after so long.
donghae's not sure when hyukjae faded and was overtaken by eunhyuk. the glamorous stage moniker, the fanservice, the constant hair color changes and eyeliner, the abs and the smirks and the facades. eunhyuk is slick and suave and charming, yet eunhyuk isn't hyukjae. hyukjae is comfort and familiarity and is the epitome of coming home. eunhyuk is nothing but a cold shell, the wind blowing and whistling through its empty core.
sometimes donghae still sees a glimpse of hyukjae within eunhyuk. those startling moments of vulnerability, he thinks, are probably what keeps him holding on. those days when it's cold and hyukjae fights him for the blanket and it turns into a full-fledged war under the covers (something eunhyuk would never do because it's 'immature' and 'stupid'); those days when hyukjae agrees to play stupid video games with him (eunhyuk thinks it's a waste of time); the days when hyukjae is in the dance studio practicing, dancing like he owns the world, dancing with his heart and soul. the days when donghae can still see the passion and determination that hyukjae chased his dream with. the days when hyukjae slips, trips and falls over, hitting the floor knee-first. the days where it's donghae's turn to smile, offer a helping hand up, restart the music and begin again.
the days when eunhyuk is hyukjae are days worth fighting for.
3 - falling down (like dominoes)
pairing; broken!kyuhyun/ryeowook
rating; g
genre; angst
length; 523 words
summary; this is how they fall out of love (or rather, they never really were in love.)
if you stop to look closely enough, you'll start to realise that there is actually a certain beauty in everything, even in breakdown and the falling apart of things. there's just something about watching things crumble to pieces, something in the irreversible cracks and soft sighs of giving up. there is just something in watching things topple to the ground. something in the slow, torturous fall and eventual dulled impact. there is something beautiful yet incredibly tragic about watching two people fall in and out of love.
"you don't have to leave, you know," ryeowook says, watching kyuhyun manoeuvre his way around their cramped apartment. it's filled with boxes and the occasional suitcase, all of them containing bric-and-brac, shattered fragments of kyuhyun's life. kyuhyun's not sure when 'kyuhyun' stopped and 'ryeowook-and-kyuhyun' began, but now ryeowook-and-kyuhyun has fallen apart and kyuhyun is leaving. he doesn't know if kyuhyun is long gone and dead or whether kyuhyun is buried under layers of hurt and tears, but he guesses it's worth a try to extricate kyuhyun from the past. now kyuhyun is rediscovering himself, digging out the person he used to be, but he knows for a fact that before he goes insane he has to leave.
"i do. this place holds too many memories." maybe there's a world of apologies and "please don't forget me"s behind those brusque sentences, but they're left unspoken. just like all the "i love you"s and "please don't leave"s. two people too proud to admit that anything was going wrong until it all came crashing down.
there's a small heap of spilled sugar on the kitchen countertop and ryeowook's taken to tracing illegible designs into it, staring down at the minuscule grains as if they're more interesting than kyuhyun is. breaking the silence, he wonders out loud, "when did you stop loving me?"
kyuhyun doesn't deny that he's stopped, because after all you can't deny the truth. you can run from it and try to leave it behind, but in the end, you can't ignore what is staring you straight in the face.
"i don't know. maybe the day i realised i loved you, but wasn't in love with you?" you can love a person endlessly, yet at the end of the day, if you aren't in love with the person, nothing is the same.
ryeowook nods, laughing softly, but there is no humour in his smile. "so you're saying you never really loved me?"
kyuhyun bites his lip, at a loss for words. "yes" seems too cruel, too brash for fragile and delicate ryeowook. "no" is nothing but a barefaced lie, a pathetic attempt at covering up the truth, and he knows ryeowook deserves more than that. so much more. so he says nothing, gaze darting to the floor ceiling walls door - anywhere but ryeowook.
noting the lack of response, ryeowook sighs. "i won't keep you waiting, then. i'm sure the cab's already here. you know the way, feel free to show yourself out."
kyuhyun bows slightly, steps out of the door, puts on his shoes for the last time and doesn't look back. for the last time.
*
“I fell in love with the morning,
how you stumbled out of bed when you first woke up
and how your eyes groaned with exhaustion.
The way your hands grasped my hipbones,
while your lips stole the endings of my sentences.
Yesterday with you felt like a month of Sunday mornings,
with white bed sheets and lazy smiles.
That same morning,
I fell in love with the coffee shop down the street.
The way you asked for two sugars, but really meant three.
The walk home from your house
made me remember what Monday mornings feel like.
Somewhere in between, I fell in love with our midnight conversations
that were through cigarette breaths and interrupted by coffee stains.
Reading the love notes you wrote on my flesh, I realized
I am in love with the presence of your words
and the feel of your existence.
But I am not in love with you.” - featherumbrellas@tumblr