free falling
free falling; luhan-centric | g | ~1000w
au | lu han is falling. ever so slowly, ever so gently, but ever so certainly.
✡
lu han is falling. he doesn’t know his starting point, nor can he pinpoint the exact moment where he first remembers falling. he doesn’t have facts - no locations, no times and dates, no figures or numbers to rely on. all he knows is that he’s been falling for almost as long as he can remember, and that’s enough for him. to lu han, there has never been a need to ask ‘where’ or ‘when’; the details and complexities will sort themselves out when the timing is right.
sometimes, though, lu han thinks that he might have left a little bit too much in the hands of fate and destiny. as he drifts slowly down to earth, he ruminates - do i actually have a choice? the right to decide? or is this just some part of my supposed fate, confined to a questionable state of gravity for eternity?
he doesn’t know. he has never known, and probably never will. that’s why he’s given up on asking, given up on waiting for answers that will never come. for now, he’s content to drift along like this in the sky with only cumulus clouds and burning constellations for company, to float aimlessly around in a blue sea which does not contain water.
✡
lu han doesn’t understand the falling. it’s not the comical high-speed plunge that so many slapstick cartoons would have you believe it is. in his case it’s gradual and slow, almost unbelievably slow. every single night he goes to sleep and the next day he finds himself dipped a little lower than before. it’s as if the sky is split into millions of steps to form a magnificent staircase, and each day he simply takes one step down and remains suspended at that level for the rest of the twenty-four hours.
✡
there are sometimes remnants of his past life which float to the surface, disguised as memories and recollections. since those are few and far between, lu han looks forward to each and every one of them; each is infinitely precious, because he never knows when the next one will resurface in the murky river of memory. it could be days, weeks or even months, but in his current state time is immeasurable and the years just seem to slip by.
(sure, every day there’s an extremely obvious shift in the colours of the sky (from pink to yellow to pink again before finally black), but it’s hard to keep track of minor things like this when you ultimately end up taking them for granted.)
another reason why lu han so greatly treasures these moments of self-realisation and memory is because they give him a sense of identity, a sense of who he truly is. in the space of those little epiphanies, lu han is not just a body of matter free falling aimlessly through the skies. he is lu han, a living breathing boy with lungs and a heartbeat.
flashes like these, after all, make him feel like he’s still alive, like he’s still a puzzle piece in the grand picture of things.
✡
one of these recollections brings him back to high school geography classes, seemingly so recent yet so many lifetimes away. lu han can’t help but wish he’d paid more attention then, because nowadays he rarely has any idea about his current locations. the atmosphere? the stratosphere? above the atlantic ocean? above the city of frankfurt, maybe? lu han doesn’t know, because after falling for so long everything starts to look about the same.
sure, the twinkling of the numerous city lights are beautiful at night when they glow neon in the darkness, but lu han’s seen them fade away at first hint of daybreak. delicate, vulnerable, fleeting and unquestionably impermanent. sure, the sea is beautiful when it’s painted shades of aquamarine and turquoise and cerulean, but wait till it froths gray and white in the middle of a hurricane. violent, untrustworthy, vicious and unpredictable.
“you guys should really be more constant,” lu han remarks to nothing in particular.
the neon lights don’t answer. neither does the sea.
✡
lu han likes talking to himself to fill the unbearable silence. it gets lonely up there, and lu han’s afraid that prolonged solitude and silence will wreck his mind and destroy his sanity. so he talks, if only to listen to his voice and hope that sooner or later he will get to listen to another human sound.
“okay, confession time. who died and made me their scapegoat?”
“i really wonder what happened to me. like, did i just disappear one day or is there still some carbon copy of me running around? oh, that’s creepy, it’s like a second lu han -“
“ugh, i miss watching football matches and cheering like some mad person.”
“…do you think manchester united’s still at the top of the league table?”
✡
lu han finds that the one thing he’s come to appreciate the most is the wind. the winds take him places, blow and buffet him to different locations, ensuring that the landscape he sees every day isn’t drearily monotonous. sometimes the ocean breezes blow him toward cities and bustling intersections. sometimes land breezes bring him above crashing waves and alternating tides.
it’s the same thing with the seasons. winter winds are harsh, howling gales, often accompanied by snowflakes which melt on his tongue and the occasional hailstones. summer breezes are lazy and scorching, burning like dragon’s breath. lu han prefers the freshness of spring and autumn, because those are gentle and bring about promises of something new.
lu han likes promises, even if little or none of them come true anyway.
✡
at the end of the day, lu han thinks that his life could really be worse. it’s nice to have no worries, no troubles, just an existence remarkably carefree and delightful. it’s nice to be able to see everything from up above, far removed enough to see all the beauty without the taint and cynicism of metropolitan life. far enough not to experience the wrath of mother nature and the violence she wrecks.
it’s enough for lu han to just drift. at night, no matter which direction he turns his head in, he can always see the stars.
end
- so this fic came about after 14 hours of flying with my butt & knees hurting. i'm just grateful i got the window seat tbh.
- hello from switzerland where wifi is a rarity
au | lu han is falling. ever so slowly, ever so gently, but ever so certainly.
✡
lu han is falling. he doesn’t know his starting point, nor can he pinpoint the exact moment where he first remembers falling. he doesn’t have facts - no locations, no times and dates, no figures or numbers to rely on. all he knows is that he’s been falling for almost as long as he can remember, and that’s enough for him. to lu han, there has never been a need to ask ‘where’ or ‘when’; the details and complexities will sort themselves out when the timing is right.
sometimes, though, lu han thinks that he might have left a little bit too much in the hands of fate and destiny. as he drifts slowly down to earth, he ruminates - do i actually have a choice? the right to decide? or is this just some part of my supposed fate, confined to a questionable state of gravity for eternity?
he doesn’t know. he has never known, and probably never will. that’s why he’s given up on asking, given up on waiting for answers that will never come. for now, he’s content to drift along like this in the sky with only cumulus clouds and burning constellations for company, to float aimlessly around in a blue sea which does not contain water.
✡
lu han doesn’t understand the falling. it’s not the comical high-speed plunge that so many slapstick cartoons would have you believe it is. in his case it’s gradual and slow, almost unbelievably slow. every single night he goes to sleep and the next day he finds himself dipped a little lower than before. it’s as if the sky is split into millions of steps to form a magnificent staircase, and each day he simply takes one step down and remains suspended at that level for the rest of the twenty-four hours.
✡
there are sometimes remnants of his past life which float to the surface, disguised as memories and recollections. since those are few and far between, lu han looks forward to each and every one of them; each is infinitely precious, because he never knows when the next one will resurface in the murky river of memory. it could be days, weeks or even months, but in his current state time is immeasurable and the years just seem to slip by.
(sure, every day there’s an extremely obvious shift in the colours of the sky (from pink to yellow to pink again before finally black), but it’s hard to keep track of minor things like this when you ultimately end up taking them for granted.)
another reason why lu han so greatly treasures these moments of self-realisation and memory is because they give him a sense of identity, a sense of who he truly is. in the space of those little epiphanies, lu han is not just a body of matter free falling aimlessly through the skies. he is lu han, a living breathing boy with lungs and a heartbeat.
flashes like these, after all, make him feel like he’s still alive, like he’s still a puzzle piece in the grand picture of things.
✡
one of these recollections brings him back to high school geography classes, seemingly so recent yet so many lifetimes away. lu han can’t help but wish he’d paid more attention then, because nowadays he rarely has any idea about his current locations. the atmosphere? the stratosphere? above the atlantic ocean? above the city of frankfurt, maybe? lu han doesn’t know, because after falling for so long everything starts to look about the same.
sure, the twinkling of the numerous city lights are beautiful at night when they glow neon in the darkness, but lu han’s seen them fade away at first hint of daybreak. delicate, vulnerable, fleeting and unquestionably impermanent. sure, the sea is beautiful when it’s painted shades of aquamarine and turquoise and cerulean, but wait till it froths gray and white in the middle of a hurricane. violent, untrustworthy, vicious and unpredictable.
“you guys should really be more constant,” lu han remarks to nothing in particular.
the neon lights don’t answer. neither does the sea.
✡
lu han likes talking to himself to fill the unbearable silence. it gets lonely up there, and lu han’s afraid that prolonged solitude and silence will wreck his mind and destroy his sanity. so he talks, if only to listen to his voice and hope that sooner or later he will get to listen to another human sound.
“okay, confession time. who died and made me their scapegoat?”
“i really wonder what happened to me. like, did i just disappear one day or is there still some carbon copy of me running around? oh, that’s creepy, it’s like a second lu han -“
“ugh, i miss watching football matches and cheering like some mad person.”
“…do you think manchester united’s still at the top of the league table?”
✡
lu han finds that the one thing he’s come to appreciate the most is the wind. the winds take him places, blow and buffet him to different locations, ensuring that the landscape he sees every day isn’t drearily monotonous. sometimes the ocean breezes blow him toward cities and bustling intersections. sometimes land breezes bring him above crashing waves and alternating tides.
it’s the same thing with the seasons. winter winds are harsh, howling gales, often accompanied by snowflakes which melt on his tongue and the occasional hailstones. summer breezes are lazy and scorching, burning like dragon’s breath. lu han prefers the freshness of spring and autumn, because those are gentle and bring about promises of something new.
lu han likes promises, even if little or none of them come true anyway.
✡
at the end of the day, lu han thinks that his life could really be worse. it’s nice to have no worries, no troubles, just an existence remarkably carefree and delightful. it’s nice to be able to see everything from up above, far removed enough to see all the beauty without the taint and cynicism of metropolitan life. far enough not to experience the wrath of mother nature and the violence she wrecks.
it’s enough for lu han to just drift. at night, no matter which direction he turns his head in, he can always see the stars.
end
- so this fic came about after 14 hours of flying with my butt & knees hurting. i'm just grateful i got the window seat tbh.
- hello from switzerland where wifi is a rarity