The Madman and the Dragon [1/3]
There was carriage travelling on a dirt road through the forest. Despite its lack of development, it was a road frequently used by farmers and bandits but not the likes of the passengers in that carriage. The passengers were four young men but not mere men. They were the epiphany of young men in those days. They were industrialists and there were four of them.
Inside, Do Kyungsoo was positioned facing the forward direction of the carriage, hands on his lap, staring out the glassless window, for today was warm and sunny so windows were not required. He was in deep, superior thought.
Positioned next to him, face buried in his newspaper, was a man named Kim Jongdae who was feverishly reading an article about how he was now marked as an industrial dragon; devourer of the weaker businessmen, an inventor, triumphant, mighty and great. He was the last of his friends to be labelled this title by the press.
Opposite him was his fellow dragon of the same last name but different father, Minseok, who was using the long carriage ride to the neighbouring city to calculate his losses in a factory fire the night before. He was muttering to himself about compensating families and improving health and safety standards for children.
Finally, the last of the dragons was a man with a superior disposition, much like the one named Kyungsoo. He held his head a little higher and his upper lip more firmly. He looked as if he too, were in deep, superior thought but his mind was blank. His mind was clear but unhappy.
Suddenly there was a loud thump on the roof which disturbed thoughts in his head that hadn’t fully formed and make Mineok jump.
‘Bandits?’ Minseok asked.
‘No,’ the one named Kyungsoo sighed. ‘I don’t hear horses.’
‘And I don’t see a coach driver either,’ Jongdae added, pulling his head back into the carriage from the open window. He calmly folds his newspaper and frowns at Minseok. ‘Don’t panic.’
‘I’m not panicking.’
‘Yes you are and that’s fine. Just trust the Lord, Minseok-’
‘Don’t bicker.’
‘We’re not bickering!’
‘Jongdae’s just preaching.’
‘Where is this carriage going?’
‘I am only trying to-’
‘Where is Baekhyun?’ Minseok suddenly demanded, staring at the empty leather seat before him. A silence befell the carriage and their concern was no longer that there was no coach driver but now at the sudden disappearance of their fellow dragon.
In their distracted moment, the figure, whatever apparition it was upon the roof of the carriage, had reached down an unseen hand to snatch Byun Baekhyun by the collar of his coat and drag him through the open carriage window without the other’s notice. Byun himself, was too surprised and it was all far too quick for him to register the pictures flashing before he eyes and he didn’t scream. Then, he was taken away.
Throughout the forest, were the echoes of the men from the city, calling out for their friend and their coach driver who had gone missing, leaving their horses to their own devices. By the time young Kyungsoo had taken the reigns, night was falling and Byun Baekhyun could not be seen in the shadows of the trees, that to Kyungsoo, looked down to mock him from their great heights.
And that was how one dragon went missing.
It was up in a tree which Byun woke in the company of a dirty looking young man with a halo of untamed and tangled golden locks; asking him questions about his head and apologizing for the state of his coat. In return, Byun screamed furies of insults and nearly fell to his death in that thirty metre tree.
They walked. Far. So far that Byun began to feel the pulls on his muscles as they begged for respite, ever close to denying to move completely. The delusional young man would constantly be making sharp turns within the forest. Changes in direction were so plentiful that Baekhyun could not track their course. Only the noise of the forest was between them. This silence, Byun decided was his to break.
‘What is the name of my captor?’
‘Hm, I don’t believe you can pronounce it.’
‘So you do admit to being my captor?’ Baekhyun prodded. ‘Then we have made some valuable progress in my reinstating.’
The young man dressed in the poor farmer’s gear only sighed and he ducked under a low-lying branch and only said thus; ‘I have no name.’
‘Are you a liar?’
‘No!’ the madman leapt at the accusation and Baekhyun was pleased.
‘Then how do you have a name that I cannot pronounce and then tell me you have no name?’
Frantically, the boy looked to his surroundings as if desperately trying to withhold something from. The trees made no response; nor did the detritus on the ground. ‘I merely have no name of your language that I remember!’ It was a tone of defence. Baekhyun knew not why it was adapted but only that hearing it pleased him and worked towards his advantage.
‘Do you continually lie to me?’
‘No!’ the tall man cried - appearing so tortured that Baekhyun was delighted. ‘I merely do not remember my name for this language-’
‘Ha!’ Baekhyun spat at the face of the man who had come so close in his aggression to prove his innocence that their noses were a mere unit apart. ‘Here is yet another l-’
‘Chanyeol!’ the madman interrupted - for the first time, Baekhyun noted. His voice had risen into a loud growl and afterwards withdrew, taking a step back from Byun as if he were ashamed at what he had done, like a child after scolding. It pleased the young businessman that he could manipulate him by only accusing the madman of lying.
‘Chan…yeol,’ the madman repeated, rolling the vowels in his mouth as if trying them of the first time on his tongue. ‘You may call me Chanyeol.’
Baekhyun had decided that the forest was the most hostile place which God had created specifically for him. He could not escape it; for it was so endless. At night he could not find his way, for the canopy. The ground was always too wet and so a fire could never be lit by him, however his auburn haired boy had no difficultly at all.
His will to survive bound him to the madman who led the way through the forest.
He did not keep Baekhyun a prisoner with walls or ropes but used Baekhyun’s lack of knowledge of the woodland to keep the young businessman beside him.
‘When are you taking me back?’
‘When you are ready-’
‘You do know you will be charged, yes?’ Baekhyun sneered, following behind the giant. ‘Kidnapping is illegal.’
‘I did not kidnap you.’
‘Did you not?’ Baekhyun’s tone broke at the end. He was truly dealing with a man whom possessed no logic.
‘I merely took you away, for a w-’
‘That’s kidnap.’
‘No, no,’ the tall boy insisted turning around to face him with childish waving gestures. ‘Think of it more like a vacation.’ He gestured to the forestry around him. ‘With the forest.’
‘And you.’ Baekhyun added with venom.
The raged looking boy’s attention was to the trees. A small closed smile of warm appreciation crept unto his lips as if he were enjoying basking in the moist air that smelt of moss and dew. When he returned he merely nodded, as if he still knew the topic of conversation.
Baekhyun had wandered from Chanyeol without Chanyeol’s notice - so he thought - on several occasions. However, a true forest was too foreign for him to understand or find his way to a road that he had been hoping to encounter. The trees were all too alike and soon he found himself terribly lost.
Resentfully, he would retrace his steps and find his way back to where he had escaped Chanyeol. Whether it be by a stream, at the foot of a hill or the trunk of a particularly thick tree, the tall, auburn haired young man would always be waiting for his return. He would ask if Baekhyun was well and if he was injured at all on his wanderings. He would tend to Baekhyun with the upmost concern, circling him and checking for any signs of injury and he would be gentle about it. He would never ask where Baekhyun went and why. Sometimes Byun would push him away but eventually he allowed Chanyeol to worry about him.
They began when the sun rose and now the sun was setting. The air had now grown cool. For most of this day, Byun refused to speak to his captor. He did not feel like conversing this day.
Except, strangely his abductor knew him and knew him well and spoke continuously. He would recount events in Baekhyun’s life - events which would have been easy to guess such as his studying habits, his work life - whilst carving his “name”, Chanyeol, onto loose pieces of bark and onto the trees with a sharp stone. Once the stone lost its sharp, he would place it into the pocket of his farmer’s trousers.
The lean, though not so lanky, savage wore the skin of a farm boy who ran away and lived off berries and the occasional possum.
‘Think of all the beautiful women you could have been chasing after during those times you would lock yourself up in your room to study!’ He exclaimed, leading Baekhyun from behind whilst busy with a blunting stone.
Byun did not reply. He had no interest in tolerating the madman’s poor conversation skill today. He was exhausted and was denied respite. His captor poked at his shoulders for several steps, much like a child in need of attention until Byun turned around in irritation and answered bluntly.
‘I have no interest in women.’
Then Chanyeol laughs. Very loudly. He stopped and clutched onto to his stomach, running low on his supply of air. Baekhyun decided it was a hideous sound. It was too joyful and mocking.
‘Love is the rope that binds down achievement! It’s distracting.’ Baekhyun defends, steeling his voice, feeling irritated at Chanyeol’s child-like disposition. He had been proving himself an intelligent madman up until this point.
‘Yes, but it unties and releases eternal happiness!’ the other continued the analogy.
‘I am happy when I achieve great deeds,’ the shorter clarifies. ‘You’ll see how great I am when I return to the iron forest.’
‘Well, that is for me to decide.’
Byun scoffed. ‘I am a great, young Industrialist. I design machines and run a million-dollar company that plays a part in producing products and parts from machinery to kitchen ware and clothing. I am an inventor. I am one of the wealthiest men in this country. I have my fine list of achievements. I am proud of myself and regret nothing at all. And I warn you, when my friend Kyungsoo finds you, he and I, will assure that there would be nothing less than the death penalty for the abduction of the great dragon Byun Baekhyun.’
Night had fallen on another day. Just before sunset, Baekhyun got cramps in both legs. He had never felt them before because he had never done enough exercise. After stretching out and messaging his legs, Chanyeol decided that they would rest under a particularly thick tree for the night. Chanyeol took a few seconds to light a fire. It sounds impossible but Baekhyun swore he saw Chanyeol striking the stones which he had been storing his pockets twice or thrice and then came a spark and now a small fire.
Chanyeol was mindlessly carving the characters of his name unto the softer tree bark and mouthing out the vowels.
‘How can you not know your own name? Are they really dull in your part of country?’
‘This is my name in this language.’
‘You’re an idiot.’
‘And you’re very intelligent.’
‘Thank you,’ Baekhyun scoffed, rolling his eyes.
‘You are most welcome!’ Chanyeol beamed, beginning a new carving.
Baekhyun watched him, carefully. His grin was dangerously wide. It was the grin of a person who seemed purposeless and yet, Chanyeol always walked with drive as if they actually had a destination. The idiot was too joyful and too liberal with himself. Because he was so unpredictable, Baekhyun realized he was very dangerous and should never be taken lightly.
When he was not praying for Kyungsoo to arrive sooner with the hunting party, Byun studied his captor. He found that the most effective and simplest way to know the life of the madman was to simply ask him questions. Much like Baekhyun himself, Chanyeol would drift into a tale, which only enriched Byun’s knowledge on destroying the other.
He learned that Chanyeol knew the woods better than Baekhyun knew his money. Not surprisingly, the tall boy spent much of his time alone; wandering the forest and into nearby towns when it pleased him. However, he often contacted his Father - how he knew not - and it thus sustained him. Baekhyun didn’t understand this. Not at all but he simply nodded. Chanyeol was mad, after all.
‘I have many brothers and sisters. They are all so talented! My Father had given them all such great gifts, especially the - erm - more noticeable ones.’
‘Where are they now?’
‘Presently? I don’t know. We had a big family feud - as one could call it - some time ago. Everyone’s out alone, doing things alone, most of the time. Doing jobs… We don’t really see the disagreeing party much… and when we do, we fight. One of my eldest - and most talented and handsome, mind you - brothers fought with my Father. Father won. Father disowned him and he was gone.’
Chanyeol missed his siblings dearly, almost longingly, to Baekhyun ears. Byun decided not to use this weapon as it would affect his conscience and would make him a coward.
‘What was his crime, exactly?’
A grin slipped unto Chanyeol’s lips and he gave Baekhyun a very approving smile. It was as if he was hoping Baekhyun would ask that.
‘Over-ambition and pride.’
The fire was on low this night because, Baekhyun was surprised to learn, Chanyeol was feeling lethargic and he didn’t think Baekhyun would be cold this night either and made no mention of himself being cold. In his laziness, Chanyeol merely sat with his back against a tree and once again was carving the name “Chanyeol” unto the wood in lazy characters.
‘Why are you so sad, Byun Baekhyun?’ He asks.
Byun was laying on the ground, head facing away from the fire and Chanyeol, and he doesn’t respond. As Chanyeol was turning back to his carving, he spoke.
‘I’m bored,’ he says, turning to face his captor, who was leaning his head back against the tree trunk and hence giving strong definition his Adam’s apple. Baekhyun swallows. ‘I have nothing to do and all I can do is worry about my company. It would be gone without me.’
‘I’m sure your great friend, Kyungsoo will take care of it for you.’
‘Fuck Kyungsoo.’
‘And I thought-’
‘He’s late.’
‘Alright…’ Chanyeol mumbles before his eyes brightened. ‘So tell me about your other great friends.’
‘Why should I? You’ve never told me about your friends.’ Baekhyun turns away from his captor again.
‘You wouldn’t listen even if I did,’ the other answered simply.
‘True,’ Byun lied and then he tucked his chin into his chest. ‘My fellow industrialists are Kyungsoo - the best of us, Minseok and Jongdae. Minseok’s an everyman. No one actually knows what he does other than he deals with stocks, with the exception of Kyungsoo, who I assume knows everything about everyone, all the time.’ He pauses, waiting for Chanyeol to respond. If he had made a nod of encouragement or moved at all, Baekhyun did not see it. ‘Jongdae is like me, he is investing in factories and mass production of materials, necessities for the new contemporary lifestyle.’
‘Have you all known each other for long?’
‘Yes,’ Baekhyun replied with a sigh of relief. His captor was listening and he didn’t appear like a fool. ‘Since we were children in the orphanage, I knew Jongdae. Kyungsoo and Minseok had parents but lived in the same village and I only met them shortly after I had befriended Jongdae.’
Baekhyun did not include that he envisioned Minseok as his competitor and that when he had met Kyungsoo, he decided to be everything that Kyungsoo was. Kyungsoo had become his inspiration and his lifelong goal.
‘Are you closest with Jongdae then?’
‘No,’ Baekhyun hesitates. ‘I think we’re all as equally close to each as we can be.’ Baekhyun rubs the back of his neck, mauling over something which he now feels like he can tell this stranger. ‘Jongdae had changed when we entered life in the cities.’ Baekhyun felt his stomach churn.
Jongdae had once been his partner in misbehaving and together through their education they were continually causing mischief whilst taking the top places in their class. Jongdae and he would indulge in some reckless and sometimes illegal activity but they were never harmed. They were close to invincible. Then, when they had moved into the world of the big smoke, Jongdae’s eyes became clouded with a strange veil that forever changed him from their first week. In all honesty, Baekhyun found Jongdae’s newfound faith and optimism to be helpful during the foundation of their companies. However, he soon became irritated by Jongdae’s level of hypocrisy. Once, Jongdae would visit brothels with him several times a week, they once would buy drink for the drunkard and lead him astray and sometimes they would take vengeance on the behalf someone they didn’t know - merely to exercise their power in their small village. When Baekhyun wanted to apply these aspects to his new life in the city, Jongdae scolded him. He would babble about concerns such as selfishness, honesty and goodness.
Once, on refusing to give money to a young man who had turned up on Baekhyun’s city flat to buy bread for his dying daughter, Jongdae was more disappointed in Baekhyun than angry.
‘At least act like you’re good and give the larger of your crumbs to the poor,’ Jongdae had advised, as he packed his measuring equipment, displaying a smile so playful that Baekhyun would have been able to spot the cracks in the mask, had he been watching. ‘You wouldn’t want to drive an angel from your door.’
Of course Baekhyun assumed that the young man was merely just poor and a liar. After that day, Jongdae never questioned Baekhyun’s decisions in life but merely assured Baekhyun that he was there for him if this lifestyle was to ever fail him. Baekhyun laughed it off but internally grew bitter towards his friend who, to him, seemed to think he was superior merely because he attended Church on Sunday.
‘Fuck Jongdae too.’
‘Are you just going to keep cursing your friends?’ Chanyeol asked, quietly as he awkwardly crossed his legs.
‘Yes. Fuck you Minseok. You should be here by now.’
Byun did not see Chanyeol cringe behind him.
‘You know, I can’t even fucking curse when Jongdae is around because he looks all disappointed in me.’ Baekhyun was now throwing his arms in the air in his frustration. ‘Fuck. When we were younger, he would produce the most horrible things in his damn mouth that the fucking priest he sees now would have to wash out his bull-shit mouth with soap and holy water maybe fifty fucking times.’
Chanyeol’s face twisted uncomfortably as if he had received a blow to his solar plexus. ‘Maybe he’s trying to make himself a better man?’ He tried and to his disappointment Baekhyun only scoffed and dropped his head to the ground. ‘Yes,’ Chanyeol nodded, confirming it to himself. ‘He’s just trying to be a better man.’
‘Well I hate that.’
‘What’s wrong with that?’
‘Everything!’ Baekhyun growled, retreating into himself.
For a moment there was silence and then, Baekhyun, despite his tantrum had his senses on alert, his hearing acute and he picked up a slight rustling which was Chanyeol inching towards him.
‘I think you are jealous,’ the deep voice whispered.
Baekhyun sat up immediately. ‘Then you’re an idiot.’
‘Honestly!’ Chanyeol nodded, putting his hands up in surrender. He licked his lips to begin to say something when Byun raised a hand to silence him.
‘No. I will not hear you rubbish.’
‘Please?’
Byun was startled. The word slipped from Chanyeol’s mouth like a desperate plea. And so he nodded because he was curious.
Chanyeol pulled himself forward like an excited child.
‘I think,’ he began, licking his lips, eyes wide and his hands in front of him as if modelling his ideas, ‘that you’re jealous. Not of your friend Jongdae’s assets or his achievements or the fact that he’s think’s his better than you…No, you hate that. You’re jealous that he is content.’
‘No.’
‘Yes,’ Chanyeol nodded, frowning in thought to himself. ‘You’re jealous that he’s content.’
‘No.’
‘You’re always searching,’ then he looks up, looking square at Baekhyun and so the young industrialist looks down. ‘You’re always wanting something more. I think you were probably both like that.’
‘How would you know?’ Byun mutters and Chanyeol just shrugs.
‘I just do. But now, he’s different. He’s not searching for greatness like you anymore. You can’t relate. You’re jealous of his contentment with himself and with his life.’
‘I’m not jealous.’
‘No? Then-’
‘I’m irritated.’ The smaller mumbled and he seems to be shrinking and then he straightens his back, glaring at his captor once more. ‘I’m irritated because how could he possibly be content with what he has? How? He hasn’t achieved anything great! He just copies me and Kyungsoo! Oh, Jongdae was always the weaker one!’
‘Maybe he’s found something that you just do not understand.’
‘Well, whatever it is, I don’t want to understand it.’
‘But you do.’
‘Don’t tell me what to do.’
‘I am not,’ Chanyeol says, closing the space between them once more; Baek notices. ‘I am just telling you what you’re thinking.’
Baekhyun maintains his glare but not before long because the auburn haired boy leans back, nodding to himself as he turns away. Byun does also, ignoring his heart racing because for once, he has nothing to say. He about to drift into sleep when he hears small whispers of prayer. He tenses, thinking that he had offended his dangerous captor but then he hears the words thank you, over and over again and in the same sentence as his name, whispered softly and affectionately.
Jongdae, some months after his conversion, invited himself to one of Baekhyun’s town houses for a Bible reading. Baekhyun was busy and didn’t appreciate the company. He didn’t appreciate Jongdae at all lately.
‘Love,’ Jongdae mused. ‘Such a powerful thing, hm?’
‘Sure…’
‘Tell me, Baek,’ Jongdae had said, leaning into Baekhyun’s breathing space over his desk, now slowly mounting with papers. ‘What is love?’
‘I don’t care.’
‘But you should.’
Baekhyun rolled his eyes. ‘Do tell me what love is Jongdae, then perhaps I would care.’ He meant this sarcastically but Jongdae straightened himself and cleared his throat.
‘Love suffers long and is kind; love does not envy; love does not parade itself, is not puffed up; does not behave rudely, does not seek its own, is not provoked, thinks no evil; does not rejoice in iniquity, but rejoices in the truth; bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things,’ his friend recited. ‘First Corinthians, chapter thirteen, verses four to seven.’
‘That’s just the qualities of love,’ Baekhyun spat, ‘not what love is.’
‘Well, I believe God is love but a person can be someone’s love, can they not, when they possess all those qualities?’
Baekhyun didn’t respond but he agreed.
Jongdae caught him in thought. ‘Do you have anyone in mind Baek?’
‘No.’
He didn’t then but he does now.
Chanyeol is very much like love to Baekhyun.
The following morning, Chanyeol had insisted on walking through an area littered with large boulders wrapped in moss. Many were so awfully round where the top half of them was exposed and the other half buried into the body of nature. They were found in pairs, with only the slightest gap between them.
Despite himself, Baekhyun could not help but recall a tale when he and Kyungsoo were young. Back when they had once slept in work houses, only in the company of other young boys. As they returned from the cotton factory from which they were poorly employed, Kyungsoo had spotted young women by a stream. They had undressed themselves by a thick layer of trees and used the sun’s light against the water to conceal their bodies as they bathed. The twenty year old man Baekhyun was now, could only smile warmly at the memory of hiding inside a hollow tree with Kyungsoo and watching the bare women climb out of the water with the sun highlighting the curves. Especially the large ones, that reminded him of the bounders. It were almost as if the sun had directed them where to look by the golden glow it gave off their skin. He gave plentiful description, complete with his additional notes on curves and the sizes of certain features.
Only when he reluctantly pulled himself from the memory did he spot Chanyeol awkwardly walking behind him. Eyes to the ground - seeking refuge in its lack of speech. Byun thought that he was being friendly…
Sensing his discomfort, Baekhyun continued, smiling broadly to ensure that it was comfortable topic for two men to discuss in the dense forest. However, when he continued his tale of the young women, his madman only retreated further into himself.
‘Do prefer them more meek, Chanyeol?’ Baekhyun offered. ‘I have a story of a quiet girl whom once tried to seduce my old friend Jongdae. Though she was thin, her breasts were actually rather impressive and had seemed to weigh down her frame. I still wonder why he denied her…’
‘Please stop,’ deep notes asked gently.
‘Ah! You have a voice!’ Baekhyun exclaimed with exaggerated arm gestures. His travel-partner’s silence had lasted too long. ‘Now, why do you ask?’
‘I have no interest in women,’ the face under the golden curls whispered quietly.
Baekhyun attempted to laugh, only to return to the treatment he had received from Chanyeol with the exact same statement. However, he found it sounding so forced and ragged that it faded away all too awkwardly and he could only mentally curse himself.
‘No man delights me, either,’ Chanyeol finishes lifting his face to grin an all-knowing grin. As always, he managed to decipher Baekhyun’s words and know his mind and his heart and his thoughts and his desires. So he repeats; ‘No woman or any man will delight me... In that way…’
Baekhyun does not think he has laughed as much as he laughed when he was around Chanyeol since he and Jongdae would pour their piss unto unsuspecting passers-by when they were young and stupid.
Baekhyun was surprised to learn that Chanyeol was musically gifted. He made use of a dried fox’s skin and several large pieces of tree bark and sap to make a drum. Baekhyun would sing for him. He hadn’t sung for anyone in years.
It turned out that Chanyeol had a sick sense of humour also; leading Baekhyun into a beehive and then demanding that he do the Can-Can before he used smoke on them. Baekhyun did not find it very funny but he wasn’t hurt.
Baekhyun found that the canopy was not so bad at night. From there he learned about the stars from an utterly fascinated Chanyeol who stared up at the deep, dark blue blanket sprinkled with diamonds wistfully, longingly, as if missing home.
Emboldened, a question escaped from Baekhyun’s lips.
‘When are you taking me back?’
They were having lunch by a stream. Chanyeol took cups of water from his hands to brush over the lean muscles of his arms. Baekhyun could not resist but feel jealousy and promised to himself that he would work on his physic in the near future. There was an adequate log in the vicinity, he was certain…
‘I’m not sure if you’re ready,’ replied Chanyeol, eyes staring into the water, searching for a fish to swim past his feet.
The shorter rose to his feet, approached the water and knelt behind it to take his drink, all the while assessing the size and measurement of his companion, whom was too busy eying the water. He admired from the golden nest which had formed in Chanyeol’s hair and down to his feet and his legs and back between them, where his thoughts meaningfully drifted. His eyes stayed for a moment too long and it appeared all too suspicious when Chanyeol looked up and Baekhyun was innocently holding water against his lips.
‘I am sure Kyungsoo will find us eventually,’ Chanyeol assured so certainly without a hint of bitterness. This cheerful tone displeased Baekhyun. ‘He will find you and take you from me. As you say, he is your great friend and I am sure he has contacted his greatest men from the appropriate fields to search for you. And then you may return to your life in the great towns and operate those buildings and feed the children with your great sums of money. Don’t worry! You’ll be home soon!’
Despite the refreshing qualities of water, it had become so cold that it burned Baekhyun at it travelled down through him spreading the cold and freezing his heart. Only for a moment. He knew not what he felt but that he could feel it. He denied thinking that he wanted Chanyeol to be wrong.
Baekhyun wished that his madman was not so prophetic.
‘I’m thirsty, Chanyeol.’
‘I know.’
‘Aren’t you?’
‘Not so much.’
‘Why haven’t we come across a stream yet? Have you lost your way?’
‘No, no. Not at all.’
‘So where will we drink next?’
‘At a pool within the mountain with the boulders, that to you, appear like breasts.’
‘They do look like breasts.’
‘Your mind is just foul, Baekhyunnie.’
‘Isn’t that mountain East?’
‘Yes. I am taking a detour, Byun Baekhyun.’
‘To hunt?’
‘No. Just to spend more time with you, my friend…’
‘You ought to visit him,’ Jongdae suggested one cold afternoon in the week that followed over a cup of tea in Baekhyun’s second apartment in the city. ‘He would like your company, I’m sure-’
‘No,’ Baekhyun interrupted, pouring milk into his teacup. ‘Kyungsoo would never allow it,’ he covered, whilst stirring.
Jongdae, sipping his tea and turning a pencil in his opposite hand, raised an eyebrow at his long-time friend. ‘Really? Why so?’
‘He believes I may have identified with my captor!’ Baekhyun raised him arms to exaggerate the impossibility of the assumption. ‘Can you believe it! I, Byun Baekhyun! A man of logic! Befriend a madman?!’
The young man opposite him was silent for a moment and then placed his teacup back into his saucer steadily while Baekhyun sipped his tea, diverting his eyes.
‘Identifying with your captor and befriending him, Baek, is not the same thing.’
‘Nevertheless,’ came Byun’s quick tongue. ‘Neither was so.’
Jongdae rolled his eyes because befriending and identifying were indeed very similar. Byun Baekhyun, the man of logic completely over-looked it as if he were simply instinctively defending himself, but Jongdae didn’t ask any questions.
Part Two
Part Three
A/N: this has been sitting on my laptop for months and now it's finally up in the public domain.