93 steps
title: 93 steps
pairing: chansoo
length: oneshot
rating: pg-13
genre: romance, tragedy
summary: to find his way home, chanyeol walks ninety-three steps. after kyungsoo, home is an arm's length away.
june; 2 0 1 4
"flowers!" a voice yells. chanyeol scampers through wooden chairs and scattered music sheets to reach the glass door where a pot of daisies would be waiting for him, just like they've been for years now.
three thirty five in the afternoon catches chanyeol cradling a flower pot; white petals framing his face as he looks for the invisible sender. he might have a clear idea on who yells flowers! every afternoon and he might have even loved that person, but the chances of him seeing the sender is as slim as the white petals in his hands. chanyeol has been wondering for more than twenty weeks; his practice room reeking of earth and flowers.
chanyeol smiles at the petals hiding behind leaves before going back inside.
past travelling legs, strangers with faces that blur into oblivion, past cobble stoned roads and grimy buildings, kyungsoo looks at chanyeol's retreating back magnified by a telescope and grins.
tomorrow and the day after that, there will be more flowers waiting for chanyeol outside his doorstep.
june, 2 0 1 2
do kyungsoo leaves a box in park chanyeol's bed.
it will take four sunsets for chanyeol to come home; his vision recovered. by that time, kyungsoo is long gone. the chalkboards will remain, alongside painted mason jars where phrases are dotted in braille and read by chanyeol's fingers.
tears are diamonds slicing kyungsoo's cheeks.
he disappears from the vicinity of chanyeol's house, clumsily dropping pieces of his heart along the way. kyungsoo approaches the black car waiting for him. jongin's arm is draped over the wheel. he enters. no words were exchanged while jongin drives. no amount of practiced lines can ease the burden on kyungsoo's shoulders. jongin has long since given up. grumbling engines fade in the background as a classical song plays.
sobs pierce the windows.
"the daisies would have bloomed by now."
jongin is tempted to shake him. kyungsoo has always loved chanyeol in a way jongin can only touch the edges of. hyung, you don't have to do this. hyung, you don't have to go back to save chanyeol. hyung, it's more than love isn't it?
jongin grips the wheel tighter. hyung, it hurts me too.
"they're waiting for us." jongin says instead.
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"i know you would not last long in the real world. you're making good money here. good money you can't find anywhere else. i'm glad you decided to remember me." luhan's smile is warm. nostalgia for kyungsoo's old life hangs on the edges of luhan's lips. he balls both hands to fists as luhan goes on. "like our agreement, i have already transferred the amount needed to pay off your boyfriend's operation. now, d.o. i am certain you're not the type to break a promise."
"let's just get on to it, old geezer."
january; 2 0 1 2
"maybe you need fresh air. this isn't easy for you. go somewhere. to the coast. away from the city. towards someplace quiet." jongin drops seeds of escape into kyungsoo's mind one cold afternoon. the breeze is gentle, whispering green leaves to follow their path.
kyungsoo sips his iced tea, the suggestion rooting, branching out until it's all he could think about. he closes his eyes and images of sunny beaches, scorching sun and white sand burns his lids. when he opens them again, he sees jongin. sees smirking dry lips and the face he has come to recognize behind casinos and high end bars where neons dance while strangers say goodbye to consciousness.
but this is history. this was the old jongin and the old kyungsoo. even though kyungsoo doesn't have a clue about who they currently are, he's certain they're far from inhaling gun powder, throwing punches.
"don't think about that. stop. hyung, please." jongin begs, because it's a part of being close with someone for years-- the patterns of the other's mind becomes easy to retrace. "listen, i'll take care of the arrangements for you. i'll look after your beloved plants. all you have to do is pack your things and pretend this is a vacation and pretend you're okay. soon enough, you will be."
kyungsoo smiles. "since when did you become this responsible and smart?"
"since we got partnered up. i pretty much have to save our asses all the time--and no. don't think about it again."
kyungsoo doesn't. instead, he shifts his attention to the sinking sun, going somewhere, nowhere new to brighten up people's lives and let the moon have its moment to glow.
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the same day. the same sunset.
long walks by the beach are what keeps chanyeol sane.
one step after another, the sound of his walking stick provides comfort to his journey. chanyeol hears the low hum of mixed conversations and grumbling engines, smells summer and fresh azaleas, hears waves crashing against boulders. he tastes hot air and summer on his tongue.
chanyeol sees colors without ever having to open his eyes.
once upon a time, park chanyeol wasn't blind. that time feels like forever ago.
"what a beautiful sunset." he smiles.
by now he's learned how to live without his vision. on some days, it washes away the blanket of nervousness coating his heart. other nights, it leaves him bare and vulnerable.
chanyeol envisions layered oranges, yellows glued to a dull sky. he imagines scenes he can't witness himself, crafting a new world within the crevices of his mind. a world blazing with colors and tranquility, a universe more friendly and not as hostile.
he stands in the beach ninety-three steps away from his house. chanyeol has never been good with numbers, but when darkness enveloped him like a fog, digits served as the hands swatting the mist clear.
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a red mini cooper snakes through the gray lines weaving itself outside the metropolitan. he's been driving to the countryside for two hours and the air already feels different.
kyungsoo stops by a beach and this is how he and chanyeol meets: when chanyeol's walking stick hits kyungsoo's ankle and chanyeol lost his count.
"i'm sorry."
"are you blind or something?" kyungsoo snaps, regret trailing after him when he sees the faraway look on the stranger's eyes, an apologetic smile pasted on his face. "oh, i'm sorry."
chanyeol dismisses the awkwardness lurking in the air with a carefree grin. the man talking to him has a nice voice; timbres which belong to an opera house. waves are splashing wildly around them. "i am park chanyeol. can i bother you for a bit? you see, i happen to lose count of my steps. my house is just a few minutes away and if you'd be kind enough to help me, maybe i can go home alive."
kyungsoo aids chanyeol just because he finds the man amusing.
as chanyeol talked about directions and the majesty of the sunset, kyungsoo guides chanyeol by his arm. they walk forward. kyungsoo's red car evaporates into neglect as chanyeol diverts kyungsoo to his world. in a way, conversing like this is nice. knots untangle themselves in kyungsoo's back.
"you can call me kyungsoo." he offers when they're hobbling their way to chanyeol's house. up above the skies, birds are flapping their wings. soaring here and there , moving to places kyungsoo has yet to discover. chanyeol is quiet. "i'm new here. i figured i need some fresh air and time to relax."
"then you've picked the perfect place. you can waste hours counting croaking frogs here." chanyeol has threaded through the same road for two years, but never with someone beside him. remembered warmth swims in his veins. "i used to live in seoul, but i moved here when i lost most of my vision. mr. kyungsoo, if you ever go blind and alone, you know where to go."
chuckles escape kyungsoo's mouth.
"white and yellow." chanyeol murmurs.
"excuse me?"
sheepishly, chanyeol rubs the back of his neck with his left hand: an action kyungsoo will later come to associate with shyness, an action he will later come to love. "uh, it's nothing really. you see, mr. kyungsoo sometimes, i use colors to describe things. your laughter makes me think of white and yellow-- the color of blinding sunlight."
kyungsoo laughs out of shock. "you think my laughter is like sunlight? that's actually. . . . refreshing."
park chanyeol's cheeks burns red. kyungsoo assumes it's the exact same shade of his own face. he averts the conversation to the town: are there a lot of people here? does it rain a lot? the people here look friendly, do you know most of them? where do you usually go for food? any great restaurants?
chanyeol does his best to keep up with the rapid fires of kyungsoo's questions. when kyungsoo drops chanyeol off his doorstep, chanyeol whispers thank you and kyungsoo tells him it's not a big deal. i'll help you whenever i can.
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the very next day, kyungsoo sees chanyeol again.
the house jongin rented for him was only a couple of blocks away from chanyeol's. overgrown vines and cheerful kids loiter over the distance kyungsoo closes to reach chanyeol. he puzzles over his fascination with the tall, long-haired chanyeol. after turning, twisting on his bed for an hour and three minutes, kyungsoo concludes it's the novelty of meeting a person who won't recognize the shadow of his past.
kyungsoo, clad in khakis and a loose shirt, observes chanyeol playing a grand piano by the crystal windows. helplessness locked his knees in place. chanyeol's fingers are slim, lithe against the ivory keys, caramel strands of hair trapping sunlight in them. kyungsoo feels blinded and torn; the beginning of infatuation bubbling in his chest.
now kyungsoo never believed in hardcore crushes: it's too vague, overrated and abused to a pulp of hell no it's only for hopeless loonies cornered by the four sides of a television screen.
"shit, shit, shit." kyungsoo cusses when chanyeol smiles. kyungsoo's heart plays hopscotch in his chest, grabbing ribs like monkey bars, making kyungsoo feel like a child all over again. he doesn't have to be a complete grown up to realize this is far from healthy.
"who's there? i can feel you looking." park chanyeol calls out. "who's there?"
"it's me, do kyungsoo. the guy from yesterday. sorry for the intrusion. i was just passing by and saw you playing." i was just passing by and saw you playing and i happen to develop some sort of crush on you in that brief moment. sorry for the intrusion. keep playing and excuse me as i try to sort out my emotions.
chanyeol stands up, hands touching furnitures and glass windows to recall where he's supposed to be. and not for the first time, kyungsoo wonders if chanyeol ever gets scared living like this. "mr. kyungsoo, come in. wait, let me open the door."
january; 2 0 1 0
secondhand cigarette smoke infiltrates kyungsoo's system. walls with their flaking paint and scratched doors welcome him. kyungsoo pulls out the semi-automatic handgun he won't get to use anyway.
oh sehun is seventeen and kyungsoo's next target.
luhan has informed him about bullies nursing the softest of knees and elbows. it's only when kyungsoo barges inside sehun's motel room and sees the fear and surprise reflected in the younger boy's eyes when kyungsoo understands. he closes the door behind him using his heel.
"please don't. please god we can talk this out, yeah?" bargaining for your life is difficult when you trip over syllables like sehun and tongues are useless muscles incapable of saying what they really mean.
kyungsoo resists the urge to roll his eyes. combined with the light drizzle outside the window, sehun's crouched figure and the dim lights overhead, this scene resembles a bastardized parody of an old action film. one that pains kyungsoo to watch. "yada yada. look, i'm really tired and i want to go home, too. so just shut up and let me finish the work i was given. no worries, i'm not going to kill you. 'simply told to have you wishing you were dead."
kyungsoo approaches sehun in quick strides. he balls both hands to fists, throwing them like boulders towards sehun's hollow cheeks and jaw. jabs after jabs, knuckles digging into sehun's throat whenever he groans. oh sehun is already coughing up blood, the beginnings of ghastly reds swells in his eyes. kyungsoo treats sehun like a tattered punching bag loaded with cotton instead of joints and organs that break and bleed red, just like everyone else's.
"please," sehun heaves; breathing ragged and sharp. "s-stop."
sweat glues sehun's hair to his forehead. a mixture of saliva and blood drips down his lips. kyungsoo grips sehun's hair, yanks it until the beated face is staring at him. ignoring his throbbing arms, he looks straight into sehun's eyes. "kid, you really are too young to be involved in this. quit rebelling and go home, okay?"
sehun coughs and spits on kyungsoo before slumping on the floor. frenzy followed: he curls into fetal position to protect his stomach and face as kyungsoo kicks. soles are stronger, more capable of fracturing vertebrates and bring tears to sehun's eyes.
"you little shit." kyungsoo kicks harder, only pausing to hear the pounding against the door. volatile raps punctuated by we're the police. someone reported possible violence around here. we demand you open this immediately. "shit."
acting on instinct, kyungsoo grabs furniture: chairs and bedside tables are stacked before the door. when he's certain it would take brute force to shove the barrier away, he turns to sehun and finds him drenched. an empty jug on his left hand, a plastic zippo on the other. the air reeks of sweat and the oil kyungsoo assumes was part of whatever shady business this delinquent tried to manage.
"what are you doing, kid?"
"kudos, you did a great job." after witnessing seventeen winters, these are oh sehun's final words.
he flicks the zippo, lightens the sleeve of his shirt and sets himself on fire.
kyungsoo yells, but fails to catch sehun when he leaped out of the window: a breathing inferno with blazing oranges and yellows for wings. blood screams against kyungsoo's ears as he looks down.
sehun is ablaze on the ground. wheels slide against wet concrete. bumpers colliding with rear ends.
the color is drained from kyungsoo's face when the magnanimity of what he did dawned on him.
january; 2 0 1 2
new doors open for kyungsoo when he offered to renovate chanyeol's backyard. have you ever thought about growing plants out here? or maybe hiring someone? your backyard is open and ideal. he mentions one afternoon, casually sipping the fresh lemonades kyungsoo made. two weeks after he met kyungsoo, chanyeol has gathered his new friend likes talking about things that blossom and can be replaced again.
"once, but then i remembered i'm a complete amateur and it's likely that i'll do more harm than good." chanyeol had admitted. "not to mention that i only do sidelines here and there to survive, mr. kyungsoo."
"i really want to turn your backyard into a garden. all you have here are shrubs and weed. can i? you don't really have to pay me. it seems unfair for me to both be content and paid at the same time."
chanyeol had agreed.
and now that they're together; chanyeol is eating a slice of watermelon. kyungsoo is swinging his legs beside him. back and forth. back and forth; savoring the sun on his knees, the tiny smile on chanyeol's face. kyungsoo doesn't always understand chanyeol. he's learned to stop trying and let pieces of chanyeol that he wants to share fall on his palm, so maybe one day, one day he'll be able to combine them together into something that he'll be able to fully comprehend.
"what you see. tell me what you see, mr. kyungsoo."
kyungsoo looks around. "the sky is clear. hmm, it's not that bright anymore. oh, there are birds on the branches and they're little and brown. i'm sorry, i'm not very good with describing things. but today is a nice day. ahhh, it feels like a day where anyone can fall in love."
"i think you're a gross romantic, mr. kyungsoo." chanyeol smirks. his hands are icky with watermelon juice and a seed is stuck to his right cheek.
kyungsoo doesn't tell him this. "no, i think i'm cute and thoughtful. meanwhile, you should look at yourself. your hair is like the hay that horses eat. don't walk into a farm, okay? the horses might mistake your hair for food. seriously, when was the last time you cut that thing you call your hair?"
"hey! i invited you for watermelon and a friendly chat. nagging is not a part of the agenda. although i did not get a hair cut since i came here." it occurs to kyungsoo, when chanyeol rubs the back of his neck, that chanyeol has lost a lot more than what he's willing to admit. ice tumbles down kyungsoo's spine as he thinks of all the friends chanyeol never got to see again, places he once loved but couldn't enjoy anymore.
kyungsoo gulps down something like sorrow. "s-stay here. i'm going to grab some scissors. stay."
seven minutes later, kyungsoo is hacking sections of chanyeol's hair off. grab and cut, grab and cut. chanyeol assumes kyungsoo has no idea of what he's doing. yet the risk of a horrid haircut is worth the comfort of kyungsoo's hand on his scalp.
as of this moment, only kyungsoo--and no one else--could come as close.
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sometimes, chanyeol abandons his blasted walking stick and uses kyungsoo's shoulders to guide him home instead. chanyeol is amused by their height difference and never fails to twist that to his own advantage. he'll always be a few steps behind the draggy kyungsoo, veering him left and right, using him like a steering wheel.
turn here. i think you're going the wrong way, mr. kyungsoo. i'm just doing this in case we get into an accident. i want you to die first. oh no, mr. kyungsoo i can feel your glare burning my face. i'm already blind and now you want me dead? you're impossible. mr kyungsoo.
like that, they've explored beaches and damaged roads.
and sometimes, chanyeol says sweet things like these:
when they're on the floor, he'd jump from a topic to another. one evening, with blueberry syrup between their teeth, chanyeol explained how orbital periods worked to an amazed kyungsoo. you see, he'd recite, at one point, an object would fully orbit around another object and they'll be back where they started. i've seen this in a drama before and the main guy says it works for humans, too. after twenty-five million years, every little thing right now would be recreated. isn't that cool? say, mr. kyungsoo. after twenty-five million years, i'd love to meet you again.
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early mornings are reserved for tending kyungsoo's beloved wildflowers and daisies. jongin has been kind enough to send them over in pots and boxes. kyungsoo hums under his breath as he waters his plants.
"it smells nice in here." chanyeol comments. kyungsoo turns to see chanyeol poking kyungsoo's makeshift garden with his walking stick.
"it's supposed to smell nice. stop messing my flowers with that crane of yours. here, let me help you." kyungsoo's hand is encircled around chanyeol's wrist, guiding him towards the lemon bells and hibiscus. he helps chanyeol's fingers find the petals.
while chanyeol familiarizes himself with the plants by touching and smelling them, kyungsoo keeps up a narration about what kind of flowers they are and what they're supposed to signify.
kyungsoo makes sure to not let chanyeol touch the roses' stems as to not get pricked.
"roses are for love. dandelions are for promises of complete faithfulness while our national flower is the emblem of eternity. now, sunflowers are painted icons of uncommon beauty and daisies..."
2 0 1 4
jongin's attention is on the daisies. kyungsoo has a lot of these. wind chimes are caressed by a light breeze. jongin does not have to look up. "hyung, you're still growing and giving these things away right? why daisies?"
kyungsoo discards his scarf, smiles and repeats the words of two years ago. "daisies represent hidden love."
january; 2 0 1 2
"two seasons. since we're near the end of january, we can expect them to fully grow in about may or early june." kyungsoo flattens the soil with a rusted spade.
"this is some dirty business."
he stares at chanyeol sitting cross-legged on the ground, smiles to himself. soil clings to ankles and shirts, there's even a smudge on chanyeol's cheek. kyungsoo wipes it off without much thought. he only regrets it when it starts to burn where he's touched chanyeol. "uh, you had something on your cheek."
"oh. thanks. uhm, when the daisies bloom, it would be cool to have someone describe to me what they really look like. so promise me you'd still be around."
"i don't see myself going anywhere right now." kyungsoo says, but doesn't promise anything.
kyungsoo pretends he doesn't notice the faint pinks on chanyeol's face, pretends his own system doesn't feel like a shipwreck when he's this close to chanyeol. initially, kyungsoo assumed his tiny little, sort of kind of just a mini-infatuation will fade along with time, like polaroids diminishing to yellow with age. it doesn't really work that way. hours spent beside chanyeol revived feelings that took him days to control.
by now, he's learned to stop fighting and just go along with the current, certain that he won't be pleased with where he'll end up.
"mr. kyungsoo, what do you look like?"
well right now, i have a mouthful of forevers. does it help? "people say i'm hot."
chanyeol snickers. kyungsoo elbows him on the ribs. "i'm serious. here."
lifting trembling fingers, chanyeol sifts through air until he feels kyungsoo's forehead. his hands slowly roams kyungsoo's face: the bridge of his nose, the top of now-closed eyelids, the curves of his cheeks and the lines of his jaw. again, kyungsoo is secretly glad chanyeol can't see what he does to him.
"what are you doing?" kyungsoo mumbles when chanyeol's fingertips find their way to his lips.
"i'm memorizing you, mr. kyungsoo. wow. i never thought your eyes would be that huge, though."
"are you insulting me or are you insulting me, because if you are i swear to god i--"
do kyungsoo's first kiss isn't ideal. there's grime on his fingernails, beads of sweat near chanyeol's lips, dirty earth beneath them. it's sloppy and funny and unexpected and perfect all the same.
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the hands that used to tickle piano keys are now interlaced with fingers in love with sprinklers and seeds.
watching chanyeol sleep, kyungsoo recalls a fact about caught fireflies; about how they could only survive for one to two days. perhaps it really hurts to burn that brightly. perhaps, perhaps beautiful things aren't created to withstand eternity. what's here today won't be there tomorrow. kyungsoo plants kisses into chanyeol's bare shoulders, hopes that whatever they have between them won't wither away.
kudos, you did a good job.
he shivers despite the shared warmth of chanyeol's blanket. as yesterday's tragedy comes knocking his mind, something hot and damp slides down his temples. tears. all because of what he's done and can never take back, because of him, one heart will never be experience emotions they were meant to feel.
remembering his past, it's almost criminal to be this happy beside chanyeol. chanyeol never said he likes kyungsoo. kyungsoo never said he likes chanyeol. there was no need for phrases, no need for spaces that kisses and actions could have filled out.
he squeezes chanyeol's hand.
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away from thousands of artificial lights, the evening sky here appears big enough to swallow kyungsoo whole.
he tugs chanyeol's hand and they half-walk, half-run through the field.
"there are hundreds and hundreds and hundreds of fireflies flying all around us." kyungsoo squeezes chanyeol's hand. "they all look like moving candles. ahhhh, so warm. so warm. the fireflies look warm."
there is nothing here: just rows of dirt and puddles of water, silhouettes of mountains and singing crickets. there is nothing here: just chanyeol and the world kyungsoo carves out for him, using description of things that aren't even there.
"don't lie, mr. kyungsoo." it's more of a statement than an accusation. "i still know if there's light. but thank you, for trying. it made me happy."
kyungsoo doesn't apologize. he'd lie time and time again if it would feed chanyeol's fascination. four hours earlier, chanyeol hinted about wanting to watch fireflies with kyungsoo and after minutes of googling for ideal locations and finding none, kyungsoo had decided to create another universe instead. in here, content fireflies would swarm them in golds and yellows. in here, chanyeol can see. in here, there is only kyungsoo and chanyeol and the emotions they can't always understand.
"no, i should be the one thanking you." later, kyungsoo will blame the serene atmosphere for what he's saying. "because in your little ways, you made me feel like there's something in me that's still good enough to love. that i was someone worth looking at. thank you, i love you."
"since when?" chanyeol challenges, the smile on his face has kyungsoo hoping that maybe, just maybe, chanyeol loves him too.
"three weeks and two days ago. when we went out for breakfast and after ordering pancakes, you immediately asked the waitress to give us a lot of syrup and butter because you know how much i love them. when you turned to me then, i thought holy shit i am in love with this man. silly, huh? but i thought it's a cute way to realize it."
chanyeol nods.
"this was because of an accident." chanyeol tears the silence down. he taps the side of his eyes. underneath the hanging stars, chanyeol tells kyungsoo about how he gradually lost his vision. just like with every time chanyeol talks, kyungsoo listens intently.
january; 2 0 1 0
"we're nearly there, mom. i promise we'd make it in time for miyeong's party. although, i do think that big sis is a little too old for surprise visits."
autumn visits the city in raindrops and dry gusts of wind.
chanyeol continues whistling in the darkness of his car. backseat, his parents are murmuring about a payment they have to make. they communicate in numbers, a language chanyeol does not want to decipher. he focuses on the wet road before him, hums some more.
it was the falling, burning body that served as the diversion--a flash of orange cascading in contrast to the indigo skies--four seconds of eyes off the road.
how could such a thing happen? i'm not just imagining this-- the internal questions prevented him from looking straight ahead, leading to the crash that took more than just his vision and parents away from him.
a year later, chanyeol will realize that this was when he lost a vital part of himself.
2 0 1 2
frost coats kyungsoo's veins.
chanyeol is sleeping on his bed now, calm and unaware of the hurricane wrecking kyungsoo's system. he can't bring himself to look at park chanyeol--the aftermath of his mistakes and coincidentally, the one he loves. sitting on the floor next to chanyeol's bed with arms wrapped around his knees, kyungsoo's heart dangles on his sleeve.
it's all my fault. i did this to him. if i didn't let the kid burn himself, this wouldn't have happened. why did it have to be chanyeol? my fault. my fault. chanyeol should have been okay. he didn't do anything. he shouldn't be alone like this, he could have been normal.
the voice in his head is getting louder. to drown them out, kyungsoo digs in his pocket for his phone. his hands are trembling as he dials jongin, places the bright screen against his ear.
after three rings, jongin answers. "nooo. hyung--"
"there's a boy beside me." kyungsoo interrupts with a voice made out of glass. "there's a boy beside me and his name is park chanyeol. he's nearly blind and he lives near my new place."
"are you okay, hyung? you don't sound--"
"this boy beside me has a backyard i'm trying to renovate. he plays the piano and he's really tall. the beach is ninety-three steps away from his house. this boy beside me is really nice. he smiles all the time and thanks everyone. i didn't knew people like still him existed. he calls me mister kyungsoo. it's so lame right, right?" kyungsoo laughs. it's dry and hollow.
white and yellow. your laughter is like blinding sunlight.
jongin doesn't say anything, but kyungsoo can hear him breath, which is a good thing. at least one of them is trying to survive. kyungsoo steals a glance at chanyeol's face and goes on. "sometimes, he uses color to describe things. he's what others would call quaint, i guess. once, i wrote something for him and he told me my braille dots were a fail. you know, i like this boy beside me."
wow, i didn't knew you had such huge eyes.
he reaches out, brushes away strands of hair curtaining chanyeol's eyes. "fireflies are his thing and he's excited about the daisies i'm growing. he wanted to be a famous musician. he's just so. . . i can't talk about him fast enough."
"why are you telling me all this?"
kyungsoo gulps. shards are lodged in his throat. this is how one bleeds from the inside out. "because i ruined him. remember what happened two years ago? oh sehun and the car crash? it turns out chanyeol is.." inhale. "was involved. it's my fault. i did this to him."
a long pause.
"then, what are you going to do now?"
2 0 1 3
"say, didn't you ever regret your decision? about that blind dude." jongin inquires, not really expecting an answer.
evenings in hongdae are never peaceful. there's always something happening: herds of buskers performing underneath streetlights, swarmed by people with lips that tasted like their lovers, strangers talking to each other, just to be less strange.
"not now, but maybe one day when i'm seventy and unable to deliver the daisies because of my arthritis. or on his wedding day, perhaps. his first child? probably. aaaah, i'll regret having to leave him just so he could live live, you know. besides, even though i'm back doing my old job, at least chanyeol doesn't have to count his steps home anymore."
"hyung, you already sound like you're regretting this."
"shut up and stop asking all these questions."
june; 2 0 1 2
chanyeol's hand is huge and warm against kyungsoo's. "this is nerve-wracking. i mean wow, i'm dreaming right? i'm dreaming."
chanyeol's enthusiasm affects kyungsoo to the point of grinning back, even though every second are needles pricking his lips. "you're really that excited about this, uh?"
"yup! i'll finally be able to see you, mr. kyungsoo. i've been guessing how large your eyes actually are and now, thank you because i'll be able to measure them myself. oh, what about watching fireflies together? this time, you won't be able to fool me. then there's the blooming daisies and my haircut. wicked. i can look at them soon."
when he was seven and shaken, kyungsoo learned how to cry without making any noise. hiding behind the heavy curtains of his parents' room, he'd flinch whenever his mom keeps on talking to thin air, telling the pillows things she used to tell his dad. now, twenty-three and still shaken, kyungsoo applies the same rules all over again. gulp the sobs back, close your lips. try not to breathe too loudly.
"the main priority now is getting through the operation." his voice doesn't betray anything.
"we need to go, mr. park." a female voice outside the door announces and kyungsoo squeezes chanyeol's hand for the final time, kisses his lips for the final time, looks at him up close for the final time, says i love you for the final time.
"i guess i'll see you later then, mr. kyungsoo." chanyeol laughs to himself, secretly thinking he's a genius.
kyungsoo bursts out laughing: it's ragged and throaty and true. he gives in to the temptation of elbowing chanyeol's ribs. "okay, that's a good one. i'll see you later."
kyungsoo commits this to memory: the creases on chanyeol's hospital gown, the uneven cuts of his hair, the whiteness of his teeth when he smiled goodbye and the broadness of his shoulder when he turned to leave.
the door closes. kyungsoo drops the mask and breaks down.
2 0 1 4
"flowers!" a voice yells and by now, chanyeol's curiosity has developed into longing. he picks up the daises, wondering what will happen after this. he goes back inside his practice room. sometimes, when raindrops are annoying against his umbrella and the streets get too crowded, chanyeol has the urge to yell about a man with wide eyes and plump lips who liked to grow daisies. sometimes, when breezes get too harsh and hugging himself doesn't provide warmth, chanyeol is transported back to the afternoon he went home and observed the daisies blossom. alone.
once, he grabbed a stranger by her elbow, demanding to know if she'd seen mr. kyungsoo.
baekhyun, his neighbor, tries to stop him before he can go and commit another attempt at social suicide. it doesn't always work. one of them always ends up hurt.
january; 2 0 1 6
this monday certainly isn't catered for park chanyeol. it's two in the afternoon and trouble has already embraced him with delayed meetings due to traffic, bruises blossoming from table-bumped hips and door-slammed fingers. before him, there are presentable people with straight backs, practiced smiles filling the entrance of the new botanical garden.
park chanyeol is only here because baekhyun begged him to go. please, for me. seeing your face all the time gets tiring.
aside from the regular daisies he receives, chanyeol isn't fond of other plants. he smiles his way through the crowd, blends in by gawking at various species, nodding when it seems right to do so. somewhere between rows of large leaves and dotted flowers, chanyeol bumps into someone: his ankle jerks away quickly. this monday certainly isn't his day. irritated by his collected misfortune, chanyeol snaps. "hey! are you blind or something?!"
the man is short and pale with eyes wide enough for anyone to get lost in. guilt, nostalgia sinks into chanyeol as he profusely apologizes. "oh, i'm very sorry, sir. you're not hurt, are you?"
short man shakes his head; no. his shoulders are tense and chanyeol sheepishly laughs at this, rubbing the back of his neck with a hand. "sir, you kind of remind me of someone. once, i met this boy the same way, too. except that he's harsher and weirder and he talks a lot. oh--i'm sorry. what am i saying? i'm sorry something possessed me to say that. sorry again, for stealing your time. huh, i better go now. this place smells nice. sorry, again."
chanyeol turns, walks away with his hand still rubbing the back of his neck.
the short man stares at chanyeol's back, a slow smile on his face. he walks away.
kyungsoo stares at chanyeol's back, a slow smile on his face. he walks away.
i'll see you later.
f i n.
[note: i'm so sorry if this is unreadable (facepalms at the summary);; i kind of wanted to try out new things such as nonlinear storylines and chansoo oh my fuck chansoo someone hold me. this wouldn't be here if it wasnt for val, yna, da, jodie, and jae. those niggus spoiled / spammed me in twitter with love and chanyeol/kyungsoo pics overload thank you niggus. â( ಠâ¿à² )â oh and most of this is inspired by the movie 'daisy' which is amajjing]
pairing: chansoo
length: oneshot
rating: pg-13
genre: romance, tragedy
summary: to find his way home, chanyeol walks ninety-three steps. after kyungsoo, home is an arm's length away.
june; 2 0 1 4
"flowers!" a voice yells. chanyeol scampers through wooden chairs and scattered music sheets to reach the glass door where a pot of daisies would be waiting for him, just like they've been for years now.
three thirty five in the afternoon catches chanyeol cradling a flower pot; white petals framing his face as he looks for the invisible sender. he might have a clear idea on who yells flowers! every afternoon and he might have even loved that person, but the chances of him seeing the sender is as slim as the white petals in his hands. chanyeol has been wondering for more than twenty weeks; his practice room reeking of earth and flowers.
chanyeol smiles at the petals hiding behind leaves before going back inside.
past travelling legs, strangers with faces that blur into oblivion, past cobble stoned roads and grimy buildings, kyungsoo looks at chanyeol's retreating back magnified by a telescope and grins.
tomorrow and the day after that, there will be more flowers waiting for chanyeol outside his doorstep.
june, 2 0 1 2
do kyungsoo leaves a box in park chanyeol's bed.
it will take four sunsets for chanyeol to come home; his vision recovered. by that time, kyungsoo is long gone. the chalkboards will remain, alongside painted mason jars where phrases are dotted in braille and read by chanyeol's fingers.
tears are diamonds slicing kyungsoo's cheeks.
he disappears from the vicinity of chanyeol's house, clumsily dropping pieces of his heart along the way. kyungsoo approaches the black car waiting for him. jongin's arm is draped over the wheel. he enters. no words were exchanged while jongin drives. no amount of practiced lines can ease the burden on kyungsoo's shoulders. jongin has long since given up. grumbling engines fade in the background as a classical song plays.
sobs pierce the windows.
"the daisies would have bloomed by now."
jongin is tempted to shake him. kyungsoo has always loved chanyeol in a way jongin can only touch the edges of. hyung, you don't have to do this. hyung, you don't have to go back to save chanyeol. hyung, it's more than love isn't it?
jongin grips the wheel tighter. hyung, it hurts me too.
"they're waiting for us." jongin says instead.
â
"i know you would not last long in the real world. you're making good money here. good money you can't find anywhere else. i'm glad you decided to remember me." luhan's smile is warm. nostalgia for kyungsoo's old life hangs on the edges of luhan's lips. he balls both hands to fists as luhan goes on. "like our agreement, i have already transferred the amount needed to pay off your boyfriend's operation. now, d.o. i am certain you're not the type to break a promise."
"let's just get on to it, old geezer."
january; 2 0 1 2
"maybe you need fresh air. this isn't easy for you. go somewhere. to the coast. away from the city. towards someplace quiet." jongin drops seeds of escape into kyungsoo's mind one cold afternoon. the breeze is gentle, whispering green leaves to follow their path.
kyungsoo sips his iced tea, the suggestion rooting, branching out until it's all he could think about. he closes his eyes and images of sunny beaches, scorching sun and white sand burns his lids. when he opens them again, he sees jongin. sees smirking dry lips and the face he has come to recognize behind casinos and high end bars where neons dance while strangers say goodbye to consciousness.
but this is history. this was the old jongin and the old kyungsoo. even though kyungsoo doesn't have a clue about who they currently are, he's certain they're far from inhaling gun powder, throwing punches.
"don't think about that. stop. hyung, please." jongin begs, because it's a part of being close with someone for years-- the patterns of the other's mind becomes easy to retrace. "listen, i'll take care of the arrangements for you. i'll look after your beloved plants. all you have to do is pack your things and pretend this is a vacation and pretend you're okay. soon enough, you will be."
kyungsoo smiles. "since when did you become this responsible and smart?"
"since we got partnered up. i pretty much have to save our asses all the time--and no. don't think about it again."
kyungsoo doesn't. instead, he shifts his attention to the sinking sun, going somewhere, nowhere new to brighten up people's lives and let the moon have its moment to glow.
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the same day. the same sunset.
long walks by the beach are what keeps chanyeol sane.
one step after another, the sound of his walking stick provides comfort to his journey. chanyeol hears the low hum of mixed conversations and grumbling engines, smells summer and fresh azaleas, hears waves crashing against boulders. he tastes hot air and summer on his tongue.
chanyeol sees colors without ever having to open his eyes.
once upon a time, park chanyeol wasn't blind. that time feels like forever ago.
"what a beautiful sunset." he smiles.
by now he's learned how to live without his vision. on some days, it washes away the blanket of nervousness coating his heart. other nights, it leaves him bare and vulnerable.
chanyeol envisions layered oranges, yellows glued to a dull sky. he imagines scenes he can't witness himself, crafting a new world within the crevices of his mind. a world blazing with colors and tranquility, a universe more friendly and not as hostile.
he stands in the beach ninety-three steps away from his house. chanyeol has never been good with numbers, but when darkness enveloped him like a fog, digits served as the hands swatting the mist clear.
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a red mini cooper snakes through the gray lines weaving itself outside the metropolitan. he's been driving to the countryside for two hours and the air already feels different.
kyungsoo stops by a beach and this is how he and chanyeol meets: when chanyeol's walking stick hits kyungsoo's ankle and chanyeol lost his count.
"i'm sorry."
"are you blind or something?" kyungsoo snaps, regret trailing after him when he sees the faraway look on the stranger's eyes, an apologetic smile pasted on his face. "oh, i'm sorry."
chanyeol dismisses the awkwardness lurking in the air with a carefree grin. the man talking to him has a nice voice; timbres which belong to an opera house. waves are splashing wildly around them. "i am park chanyeol. can i bother you for a bit? you see, i happen to lose count of my steps. my house is just a few minutes away and if you'd be kind enough to help me, maybe i can go home alive."
kyungsoo aids chanyeol just because he finds the man amusing.
as chanyeol talked about directions and the majesty of the sunset, kyungsoo guides chanyeol by his arm. they walk forward. kyungsoo's red car evaporates into neglect as chanyeol diverts kyungsoo to his world. in a way, conversing like this is nice. knots untangle themselves in kyungsoo's back.
"you can call me kyungsoo." he offers when they're hobbling their way to chanyeol's house. up above the skies, birds are flapping their wings. soaring here and there , moving to places kyungsoo has yet to discover. chanyeol is quiet. "i'm new here. i figured i need some fresh air and time to relax."
"then you've picked the perfect place. you can waste hours counting croaking frogs here." chanyeol has threaded through the same road for two years, but never with someone beside him. remembered warmth swims in his veins. "i used to live in seoul, but i moved here when i lost most of my vision. mr. kyungsoo, if you ever go blind and alone, you know where to go."
chuckles escape kyungsoo's mouth.
"white and yellow." chanyeol murmurs.
"excuse me?"
sheepishly, chanyeol rubs the back of his neck with his left hand: an action kyungsoo will later come to associate with shyness, an action he will later come to love. "uh, it's nothing really. you see, mr. kyungsoo sometimes, i use colors to describe things. your laughter makes me think of white and yellow-- the color of blinding sunlight."
kyungsoo laughs out of shock. "you think my laughter is like sunlight? that's actually. . . . refreshing."
park chanyeol's cheeks burns red. kyungsoo assumes it's the exact same shade of his own face. he averts the conversation to the town: are there a lot of people here? does it rain a lot? the people here look friendly, do you know most of them? where do you usually go for food? any great restaurants?
chanyeol does his best to keep up with the rapid fires of kyungsoo's questions. when kyungsoo drops chanyeol off his doorstep, chanyeol whispers thank you and kyungsoo tells him it's not a big deal. i'll help you whenever i can.
â
the very next day, kyungsoo sees chanyeol again.
the house jongin rented for him was only a couple of blocks away from chanyeol's. overgrown vines and cheerful kids loiter over the distance kyungsoo closes to reach chanyeol. he puzzles over his fascination with the tall, long-haired chanyeol. after turning, twisting on his bed for an hour and three minutes, kyungsoo concludes it's the novelty of meeting a person who won't recognize the shadow of his past.
kyungsoo, clad in khakis and a loose shirt, observes chanyeol playing a grand piano by the crystal windows. helplessness locked his knees in place. chanyeol's fingers are slim, lithe against the ivory keys, caramel strands of hair trapping sunlight in them. kyungsoo feels blinded and torn; the beginning of infatuation bubbling in his chest.
now kyungsoo never believed in hardcore crushes: it's too vague, overrated and abused to a pulp of hell no it's only for hopeless loonies cornered by the four sides of a television screen.
"shit, shit, shit." kyungsoo cusses when chanyeol smiles. kyungsoo's heart plays hopscotch in his chest, grabbing ribs like monkey bars, making kyungsoo feel like a child all over again. he doesn't have to be a complete grown up to realize this is far from healthy.
"who's there? i can feel you looking." park chanyeol calls out. "who's there?"
"it's me, do kyungsoo. the guy from yesterday. sorry for the intrusion. i was just passing by and saw you playing." i was just passing by and saw you playing and i happen to develop some sort of crush on you in that brief moment. sorry for the intrusion. keep playing and excuse me as i try to sort out my emotions.
chanyeol stands up, hands touching furnitures and glass windows to recall where he's supposed to be. and not for the first time, kyungsoo wonders if chanyeol ever gets scared living like this. "mr. kyungsoo, come in. wait, let me open the door."
january; 2 0 1 0
secondhand cigarette smoke infiltrates kyungsoo's system. walls with their flaking paint and scratched doors welcome him. kyungsoo pulls out the semi-automatic handgun he won't get to use anyway.
oh sehun is seventeen and kyungsoo's next target.
luhan has informed him about bullies nursing the softest of knees and elbows. it's only when kyungsoo barges inside sehun's motel room and sees the fear and surprise reflected in the younger boy's eyes when kyungsoo understands. he closes the door behind him using his heel.
"please don't. please god we can talk this out, yeah?" bargaining for your life is difficult when you trip over syllables like sehun and tongues are useless muscles incapable of saying what they really mean.
kyungsoo resists the urge to roll his eyes. combined with the light drizzle outside the window, sehun's crouched figure and the dim lights overhead, this scene resembles a bastardized parody of an old action film. one that pains kyungsoo to watch. "yada yada. look, i'm really tired and i want to go home, too. so just shut up and let me finish the work i was given. no worries, i'm not going to kill you. 'simply told to have you wishing you were dead."
kyungsoo approaches sehun in quick strides. he balls both hands to fists, throwing them like boulders towards sehun's hollow cheeks and jaw. jabs after jabs, knuckles digging into sehun's throat whenever he groans. oh sehun is already coughing up blood, the beginnings of ghastly reds swells in his eyes. kyungsoo treats sehun like a tattered punching bag loaded with cotton instead of joints and organs that break and bleed red, just like everyone else's.
"please," sehun heaves; breathing ragged and sharp. "s-stop."
sweat glues sehun's hair to his forehead. a mixture of saliva and blood drips down his lips. kyungsoo grips sehun's hair, yanks it until the beated face is staring at him. ignoring his throbbing arms, he looks straight into sehun's eyes. "kid, you really are too young to be involved in this. quit rebelling and go home, okay?"
sehun coughs and spits on kyungsoo before slumping on the floor. frenzy followed: he curls into fetal position to protect his stomach and face as kyungsoo kicks. soles are stronger, more capable of fracturing vertebrates and bring tears to sehun's eyes.
"you little shit." kyungsoo kicks harder, only pausing to hear the pounding against the door. volatile raps punctuated by we're the police. someone reported possible violence around here. we demand you open this immediately. "shit."
acting on instinct, kyungsoo grabs furniture: chairs and bedside tables are stacked before the door. when he's certain it would take brute force to shove the barrier away, he turns to sehun and finds him drenched. an empty jug on his left hand, a plastic zippo on the other. the air reeks of sweat and the oil kyungsoo assumes was part of whatever shady business this delinquent tried to manage.
"what are you doing, kid?"
"kudos, you did a great job." after witnessing seventeen winters, these are oh sehun's final words.
he flicks the zippo, lightens the sleeve of his shirt and sets himself on fire.
kyungsoo yells, but fails to catch sehun when he leaped out of the window: a breathing inferno with blazing oranges and yellows for wings. blood screams against kyungsoo's ears as he looks down.
sehun is ablaze on the ground. wheels slide against wet concrete. bumpers colliding with rear ends.
the color is drained from kyungsoo's face when the magnanimity of what he did dawned on him.
january; 2 0 1 2
new doors open for kyungsoo when he offered to renovate chanyeol's backyard. have you ever thought about growing plants out here? or maybe hiring someone? your backyard is open and ideal. he mentions one afternoon, casually sipping the fresh lemonades kyungsoo made. two weeks after he met kyungsoo, chanyeol has gathered his new friend likes talking about things that blossom and can be replaced again.
"once, but then i remembered i'm a complete amateur and it's likely that i'll do more harm than good." chanyeol had admitted. "not to mention that i only do sidelines here and there to survive, mr. kyungsoo."
"i really want to turn your backyard into a garden. all you have here are shrubs and weed. can i? you don't really have to pay me. it seems unfair for me to both be content and paid at the same time."
chanyeol had agreed.
and now that they're together; chanyeol is eating a slice of watermelon. kyungsoo is swinging his legs beside him. back and forth. back and forth; savoring the sun on his knees, the tiny smile on chanyeol's face. kyungsoo doesn't always understand chanyeol. he's learned to stop trying and let pieces of chanyeol that he wants to share fall on his palm, so maybe one day, one day he'll be able to combine them together into something that he'll be able to fully comprehend.
"what you see. tell me what you see, mr. kyungsoo."
kyungsoo looks around. "the sky is clear. hmm, it's not that bright anymore. oh, there are birds on the branches and they're little and brown. i'm sorry, i'm not very good with describing things. but today is a nice day. ahhh, it feels like a day where anyone can fall in love."
"i think you're a gross romantic, mr. kyungsoo." chanyeol smirks. his hands are icky with watermelon juice and a seed is stuck to his right cheek.
kyungsoo doesn't tell him this. "no, i think i'm cute and thoughtful. meanwhile, you should look at yourself. your hair is like the hay that horses eat. don't walk into a farm, okay? the horses might mistake your hair for food. seriously, when was the last time you cut that thing you call your hair?"
"hey! i invited you for watermelon and a friendly chat. nagging is not a part of the agenda. although i did not get a hair cut since i came here." it occurs to kyungsoo, when chanyeol rubs the back of his neck, that chanyeol has lost a lot more than what he's willing to admit. ice tumbles down kyungsoo's spine as he thinks of all the friends chanyeol never got to see again, places he once loved but couldn't enjoy anymore.
kyungsoo gulps down something like sorrow. "s-stay here. i'm going to grab some scissors. stay."
seven minutes later, kyungsoo is hacking sections of chanyeol's hair off. grab and cut, grab and cut. chanyeol assumes kyungsoo has no idea of what he's doing. yet the risk of a horrid haircut is worth the comfort of kyungsoo's hand on his scalp.
as of this moment, only kyungsoo--and no one else--could come as close.
â
sometimes, chanyeol abandons his blasted walking stick and uses kyungsoo's shoulders to guide him home instead. chanyeol is amused by their height difference and never fails to twist that to his own advantage. he'll always be a few steps behind the draggy kyungsoo, veering him left and right, using him like a steering wheel.
turn here. i think you're going the wrong way, mr. kyungsoo. i'm just doing this in case we get into an accident. i want you to die first. oh no, mr. kyungsoo i can feel your glare burning my face. i'm already blind and now you want me dead? you're impossible. mr kyungsoo.
like that, they've explored beaches and damaged roads.
and sometimes, chanyeol says sweet things like these:
when they're on the floor, he'd jump from a topic to another. one evening, with blueberry syrup between their teeth, chanyeol explained how orbital periods worked to an amazed kyungsoo. you see, he'd recite, at one point, an object would fully orbit around another object and they'll be back where they started. i've seen this in a drama before and the main guy says it works for humans, too. after twenty-five million years, every little thing right now would be recreated. isn't that cool? say, mr. kyungsoo. after twenty-five million years, i'd love to meet you again.
â
early mornings are reserved for tending kyungsoo's beloved wildflowers and daisies. jongin has been kind enough to send them over in pots and boxes. kyungsoo hums under his breath as he waters his plants.
"it smells nice in here." chanyeol comments. kyungsoo turns to see chanyeol poking kyungsoo's makeshift garden with his walking stick.
"it's supposed to smell nice. stop messing my flowers with that crane of yours. here, let me help you." kyungsoo's hand is encircled around chanyeol's wrist, guiding him towards the lemon bells and hibiscus. he helps chanyeol's fingers find the petals.
while chanyeol familiarizes himself with the plants by touching and smelling them, kyungsoo keeps up a narration about what kind of flowers they are and what they're supposed to signify.
kyungsoo makes sure to not let chanyeol touch the roses' stems as to not get pricked.
"roses are for love. dandelions are for promises of complete faithfulness while our national flower is the emblem of eternity. now, sunflowers are painted icons of uncommon beauty and daisies..."
2 0 1 4
jongin's attention is on the daisies. kyungsoo has a lot of these. wind chimes are caressed by a light breeze. jongin does not have to look up. "hyung, you're still growing and giving these things away right? why daisies?"
kyungsoo discards his scarf, smiles and repeats the words of two years ago. "daisies represent hidden love."
january; 2 0 1 2
"two seasons. since we're near the end of january, we can expect them to fully grow in about may or early june." kyungsoo flattens the soil with a rusted spade.
"this is some dirty business."
he stares at chanyeol sitting cross-legged on the ground, smiles to himself. soil clings to ankles and shirts, there's even a smudge on chanyeol's cheek. kyungsoo wipes it off without much thought. he only regrets it when it starts to burn where he's touched chanyeol. "uh, you had something on your cheek."
"oh. thanks. uhm, when the daisies bloom, it would be cool to have someone describe to me what they really look like. so promise me you'd still be around."
"i don't see myself going anywhere right now." kyungsoo says, but doesn't promise anything.
kyungsoo pretends he doesn't notice the faint pinks on chanyeol's face, pretends his own system doesn't feel like a shipwreck when he's this close to chanyeol. initially, kyungsoo assumed his tiny little, sort of kind of just a mini-infatuation will fade along with time, like polaroids diminishing to yellow with age. it doesn't really work that way. hours spent beside chanyeol revived feelings that took him days to control.
by now, he's learned to stop fighting and just go along with the current, certain that he won't be pleased with where he'll end up.
"mr. kyungsoo, what do you look like?"
well right now, i have a mouthful of forevers. does it help? "people say i'm hot."
chanyeol snickers. kyungsoo elbows him on the ribs. "i'm serious. here."
lifting trembling fingers, chanyeol sifts through air until he feels kyungsoo's forehead. his hands slowly roams kyungsoo's face: the bridge of his nose, the top of now-closed eyelids, the curves of his cheeks and the lines of his jaw. again, kyungsoo is secretly glad chanyeol can't see what he does to him.
"what are you doing?" kyungsoo mumbles when chanyeol's fingertips find their way to his lips.
"i'm memorizing you, mr. kyungsoo. wow. i never thought your eyes would be that huge, though."
"are you insulting me or are you insulting me, because if you are i swear to god i--"
do kyungsoo's first kiss isn't ideal. there's grime on his fingernails, beads of sweat near chanyeol's lips, dirty earth beneath them. it's sloppy and funny and unexpected and perfect all the same.
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the hands that used to tickle piano keys are now interlaced with fingers in love with sprinklers and seeds.
watching chanyeol sleep, kyungsoo recalls a fact about caught fireflies; about how they could only survive for one to two days. perhaps it really hurts to burn that brightly. perhaps, perhaps beautiful things aren't created to withstand eternity. what's here today won't be there tomorrow. kyungsoo plants kisses into chanyeol's bare shoulders, hopes that whatever they have between them won't wither away.
kudos, you did a good job.
he shivers despite the shared warmth of chanyeol's blanket. as yesterday's tragedy comes knocking his mind, something hot and damp slides down his temples. tears. all because of what he's done and can never take back, because of him, one heart will never be experience emotions they were meant to feel.
remembering his past, it's almost criminal to be this happy beside chanyeol. chanyeol never said he likes kyungsoo. kyungsoo never said he likes chanyeol. there was no need for phrases, no need for spaces that kisses and actions could have filled out.
he squeezes chanyeol's hand.
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away from thousands of artificial lights, the evening sky here appears big enough to swallow kyungsoo whole.
he tugs chanyeol's hand and they half-walk, half-run through the field.
"there are hundreds and hundreds and hundreds of fireflies flying all around us." kyungsoo squeezes chanyeol's hand. "they all look like moving candles. ahhhh, so warm. so warm. the fireflies look warm."
there is nothing here: just rows of dirt and puddles of water, silhouettes of mountains and singing crickets. there is nothing here: just chanyeol and the world kyungsoo carves out for him, using description of things that aren't even there.
"don't lie, mr. kyungsoo." it's more of a statement than an accusation. "i still know if there's light. but thank you, for trying. it made me happy."
kyungsoo doesn't apologize. he'd lie time and time again if it would feed chanyeol's fascination. four hours earlier, chanyeol hinted about wanting to watch fireflies with kyungsoo and after minutes of googling for ideal locations and finding none, kyungsoo had decided to create another universe instead. in here, content fireflies would swarm them in golds and yellows. in here, chanyeol can see. in here, there is only kyungsoo and chanyeol and the emotions they can't always understand.
"no, i should be the one thanking you." later, kyungsoo will blame the serene atmosphere for what he's saying. "because in your little ways, you made me feel like there's something in me that's still good enough to love. that i was someone worth looking at. thank you, i love you."
"since when?" chanyeol challenges, the smile on his face has kyungsoo hoping that maybe, just maybe, chanyeol loves him too.
"three weeks and two days ago. when we went out for breakfast and after ordering pancakes, you immediately asked the waitress to give us a lot of syrup and butter because you know how much i love them. when you turned to me then, i thought holy shit i am in love with this man. silly, huh? but i thought it's a cute way to realize it."
chanyeol nods.
"this was because of an accident." chanyeol tears the silence down. he taps the side of his eyes. underneath the hanging stars, chanyeol tells kyungsoo about how he gradually lost his vision. just like with every time chanyeol talks, kyungsoo listens intently.
january; 2 0 1 0
"we're nearly there, mom. i promise we'd make it in time for miyeong's party. although, i do think that big sis is a little too old for surprise visits."
autumn visits the city in raindrops and dry gusts of wind.
chanyeol continues whistling in the darkness of his car. backseat, his parents are murmuring about a payment they have to make. they communicate in numbers, a language chanyeol does not want to decipher. he focuses on the wet road before him, hums some more.
it was the falling, burning body that served as the diversion--a flash of orange cascading in contrast to the indigo skies--four seconds of eyes off the road.
how could such a thing happen? i'm not just imagining this-- the internal questions prevented him from looking straight ahead, leading to the crash that took more than just his vision and parents away from him.
a year later, chanyeol will realize that this was when he lost a vital part of himself.
2 0 1 2
frost coats kyungsoo's veins.
chanyeol is sleeping on his bed now, calm and unaware of the hurricane wrecking kyungsoo's system. he can't bring himself to look at park chanyeol--the aftermath of his mistakes and coincidentally, the one he loves. sitting on the floor next to chanyeol's bed with arms wrapped around his knees, kyungsoo's heart dangles on his sleeve.
it's all my fault. i did this to him. if i didn't let the kid burn himself, this wouldn't have happened. why did it have to be chanyeol? my fault. my fault. chanyeol should have been okay. he didn't do anything. he shouldn't be alone like this, he could have been normal.
the voice in his head is getting louder. to drown them out, kyungsoo digs in his pocket for his phone. his hands are trembling as he dials jongin, places the bright screen against his ear.
after three rings, jongin answers. "nooo. hyung--"
"there's a boy beside me." kyungsoo interrupts with a voice made out of glass. "there's a boy beside me and his name is park chanyeol. he's nearly blind and he lives near my new place."
"are you okay, hyung? you don't sound--"
"this boy beside me has a backyard i'm trying to renovate. he plays the piano and he's really tall. the beach is ninety-three steps away from his house. this boy beside me is really nice. he smiles all the time and thanks everyone. i didn't knew people like still him existed. he calls me mister kyungsoo. it's so lame right, right?" kyungsoo laughs. it's dry and hollow.
white and yellow. your laughter is like blinding sunlight.
jongin doesn't say anything, but kyungsoo can hear him breath, which is a good thing. at least one of them is trying to survive. kyungsoo steals a glance at chanyeol's face and goes on. "sometimes, he uses color to describe things. he's what others would call quaint, i guess. once, i wrote something for him and he told me my braille dots were a fail. you know, i like this boy beside me."
wow, i didn't knew you had such huge eyes.
he reaches out, brushes away strands of hair curtaining chanyeol's eyes. "fireflies are his thing and he's excited about the daisies i'm growing. he wanted to be a famous musician. he's just so. . . i can't talk about him fast enough."
"why are you telling me all this?"
kyungsoo gulps. shards are lodged in his throat. this is how one bleeds from the inside out. "because i ruined him. remember what happened two years ago? oh sehun and the car crash? it turns out chanyeol is.." inhale. "was involved. it's my fault. i did this to him."
a long pause.
"then, what are you going to do now?"
2 0 1 3
"say, didn't you ever regret your decision? about that blind dude." jongin inquires, not really expecting an answer.
evenings in hongdae are never peaceful. there's always something happening: herds of buskers performing underneath streetlights, swarmed by people with lips that tasted like their lovers, strangers talking to each other, just to be less strange.
"not now, but maybe one day when i'm seventy and unable to deliver the daisies because of my arthritis. or on his wedding day, perhaps. his first child? probably. aaaah, i'll regret having to leave him just so he could live live, you know. besides, even though i'm back doing my old job, at least chanyeol doesn't have to count his steps home anymore."
"hyung, you already sound like you're regretting this."
"shut up and stop asking all these questions."
june; 2 0 1 2
chanyeol's hand is huge and warm against kyungsoo's. "this is nerve-wracking. i mean wow, i'm dreaming right? i'm dreaming."
chanyeol's enthusiasm affects kyungsoo to the point of grinning back, even though every second are needles pricking his lips. "you're really that excited about this, uh?"
"yup! i'll finally be able to see you, mr. kyungsoo. i've been guessing how large your eyes actually are and now, thank you because i'll be able to measure them myself. oh, what about watching fireflies together? this time, you won't be able to fool me. then there's the blooming daisies and my haircut. wicked. i can look at them soon."
when he was seven and shaken, kyungsoo learned how to cry without making any noise. hiding behind the heavy curtains of his parents' room, he'd flinch whenever his mom keeps on talking to thin air, telling the pillows things she used to tell his dad. now, twenty-three and still shaken, kyungsoo applies the same rules all over again. gulp the sobs back, close your lips. try not to breathe too loudly.
"the main priority now is getting through the operation." his voice doesn't betray anything.
"we need to go, mr. park." a female voice outside the door announces and kyungsoo squeezes chanyeol's hand for the final time, kisses his lips for the final time, looks at him up close for the final time, says i love you for the final time.
"i guess i'll see you later then, mr. kyungsoo." chanyeol laughs to himself, secretly thinking he's a genius.
kyungsoo bursts out laughing: it's ragged and throaty and true. he gives in to the temptation of elbowing chanyeol's ribs. "okay, that's a good one. i'll see you later."
kyungsoo commits this to memory: the creases on chanyeol's hospital gown, the uneven cuts of his hair, the whiteness of his teeth when he smiled goodbye and the broadness of his shoulder when he turned to leave.
the door closes. kyungsoo drops the mask and breaks down.
2 0 1 4
"flowers!" a voice yells and by now, chanyeol's curiosity has developed into longing. he picks up the daises, wondering what will happen after this. he goes back inside his practice room. sometimes, when raindrops are annoying against his umbrella and the streets get too crowded, chanyeol has the urge to yell about a man with wide eyes and plump lips who liked to grow daisies. sometimes, when breezes get too harsh and hugging himself doesn't provide warmth, chanyeol is transported back to the afternoon he went home and observed the daisies blossom. alone.
once, he grabbed a stranger by her elbow, demanding to know if she'd seen mr. kyungsoo.
baekhyun, his neighbor, tries to stop him before he can go and commit another attempt at social suicide. it doesn't always work. one of them always ends up hurt.
january; 2 0 1 6
this monday certainly isn't catered for park chanyeol. it's two in the afternoon and trouble has already embraced him with delayed meetings due to traffic, bruises blossoming from table-bumped hips and door-slammed fingers. before him, there are presentable people with straight backs, practiced smiles filling the entrance of the new botanical garden.
park chanyeol is only here because baekhyun begged him to go. please, for me. seeing your face all the time gets tiring.
aside from the regular daisies he receives, chanyeol isn't fond of other plants. he smiles his way through the crowd, blends in by gawking at various species, nodding when it seems right to do so. somewhere between rows of large leaves and dotted flowers, chanyeol bumps into someone: his ankle jerks away quickly. this monday certainly isn't his day. irritated by his collected misfortune, chanyeol snaps. "hey! are you blind or something?!"
the man is short and pale with eyes wide enough for anyone to get lost in. guilt, nostalgia sinks into chanyeol as he profusely apologizes. "oh, i'm very sorry, sir. you're not hurt, are you?"
short man shakes his head; no. his shoulders are tense and chanyeol sheepishly laughs at this, rubbing the back of his neck with a hand. "sir, you kind of remind me of someone. once, i met this boy the same way, too. except that he's harsher and weirder and he talks a lot. oh--i'm sorry. what am i saying? i'm sorry something possessed me to say that. sorry again, for stealing your time. huh, i better go now. this place smells nice. sorry, again."
chanyeol turns, walks away with his hand still rubbing the back of his neck.
the short man stares at chanyeol's back, a slow smile on his face. he walks away.
kyungsoo stares at chanyeol's back, a slow smile on his face. he walks away.
i'll see you later.
f i n.
[note: i'm so sorry if this is unreadable (facepalms at the summary);; i kind of wanted to try out new things such as nonlinear storylines and chansoo oh my fuck chansoo someone hold me. this wouldn't be here if it wasnt for val, yna, da, jodie, and jae. those niggus spoiled / spammed me in twitter with love and chanyeol/kyungsoo pics overload thank you niggus. â( ಠâ¿à² )â oh and most of this is inspired by the movie 'daisy' which is amajjing]