icarus walks {Eunhyuk/Donghae}
Icarus Walks
“Stop.”
Donghae turns around. It’s been a while, but that face is there, half covered by the dark. Hyukjae’s never really left him, even in all these years spent apart. He’s wandered around these damp passages, Donghae guesses. And Donghae guesses that he is Hyukjae’s one chance at getting out of here alive and perhaps a little bit unhurt after his years of dripping walls, echoing voices, but barely any faces.
It’s been five years. But Hyukjae looks stronger, like he could knock someone out. Or perhaps take someone’s life away. Donghae doesn’t want to be that person, he can’t tell for certain if this is the Hyukjae he needs to accept now. What if it’s just an illusion?
“Is it you?”
“It’s me,” says Donghae. He hopes it’s the right answer, hopes so in every vein of his body and then the bones, too.
“It’s cold down here,” the words come out in their own awkward flow. Maybe he hasn’t spoken for a long while. “Are you cold?”
“Yeah.”
“Did you come here for me?”
“I did,” Donghae holds out his hand. He expects Hyukjae to know to take it. It’s part of what they used to have. Donghae wants that back, simple as that. Black and white, no grey in between on his feelings. He takes off his jacket, the material sliding over itself and hissing, startling Hyukjae, but Donghae ignores his flinching and wraps it around him.
“Five years. I’ve been alone down here,” he croaks, like speaking has suddenly become impossible.
Donghae nods, but doesn’t take his hand like he wants to. Instead, he grabs Hyukjae’s wrist like he’s got a mission to finish, not letting go for anything, even the sound of screams from behind them and Hyukjae cries out. He’s scared, but they’re almost done here.
Hyukjae pulls on his grip, but Donghae doesn’t stop, doesn’t want to stop. He doesn’t even think of it until they’re out. Until they’ve reached the outside world, the light blinding them out of their minds, and Donghae’s broken into a run, with Hyukjae’s fingers at his arm. This new freedom is rightfully his.
--
“Stop.”
Donghae turns around. It’s been a while, but that face is there, half covered by the dark. Hyukjae’s never really left him, even in all these years spent apart. He’s wandered around these damp passages, Donghae guesses. And Donghae guesses that he is Hyukjae’s one chance at getting out of here alive and perhaps a little bit unhurt after his years of dripping walls, echoing voices, but barely any faces.
It’s been five years. But Hyukjae looks stronger, like he could knock someone out. Or perhaps take someone’s life away. Donghae doesn’t want to be that person, he can’t tell for certain if this is the Hyukjae he needs to accept now. What if it’s just an illusion?
“Is it you?”
“It’s me,” says Donghae. He hopes it’s the right answer, hopes so in every vein of his body and then the bones, too.
“It’s cold down here,” the words come out in their own awkward flow. Maybe he hasn’t spoken for a long while. “Are you cold?”
“Yeah.”
“Did you come here for me?”
“I did,” Donghae holds out his hand. He expects Hyukjae to know to take it. It’s part of what they used to have. Donghae wants that back, simple as that. Black and white, no grey in between on his feelings. He takes off his jacket, the material sliding over itself and hissing, startling Hyukjae, but Donghae ignores his flinching and wraps it around him.
“Five years. I’ve been alone down here,” he croaks, like speaking has suddenly become impossible.
Donghae nods, but doesn’t take his hand like he wants to. Instead, he grabs Hyukjae’s wrist like he’s got a mission to finish, not letting go for anything, even the sound of screams from behind them and Hyukjae cries out. He’s scared, but they’re almost done here.
Hyukjae pulls on his grip, but Donghae doesn’t stop, doesn’t want to stop. He doesn’t even think of it until they’re out. Until they’ve reached the outside world, the light blinding them out of their minds, and Donghae’s broken into a run, with Hyukjae’s fingers at his arm. This new freedom is rightfully his.
--