until you believe that it could be otherwise, that you will fight, like I'm fighting.
until you believe that it could be otherwise, that you will fight, like I'm fighting.
It’s this half-sleep when your eyes are closing and your head keeps sliding off of the palm where it’s resting. The eyelashes shield the view again, pulled down by the weight of eyelids.
It’s blissful - like the feeling when one wakes up in the night, only to find out there’s still a couple of hours more to getting up.
A gust of cold air caresses the patch of skin on his back where his shirt somehow pulled up. It’s this half-sleep when the body is too heavy to move but the goosebumps too irritating, and it’s confusing. He stirs, or so he thinks, trying his luck. Maybe, just maybe, the cold will go away. It doesn’t.
His body aches, but his brain is too, too... Too everything. Too sleepy and too annoyed, but still, it feels the slightest bit blissful all the time.
The stupid emotion comes back and the surface of his eyeballs prickle under his eyelids, and suddenly, there’s a shuddering breath escaping his lips.
“Dongwoo.”
It seems that there’s a faint, soft voice, but he can’t tell, his body still painfully overwhelmed with slumber. He feels bad.
“Dongwoo, wake up, you can’t sleep here.”
A warm hand appears on his shoulder, he knows it’s a hand, but he wakes up only after there’s a little shake, too. The hand on his shoulder feels good, friendly.
Dongwoo raises his head from his palm, blinks several times, his eyes swollen. Oh. So he’s sitting at the kitchen table.
The hand feels nice as it tightens its grip on his shoulder, turning him around on the chair. Dongwoo blinks again, his vision sharpening. Slowly.
“Go to bed. You look terrible.”
“Thanks,” Dongwoo mutters, Woohyun’s voice clarifying in his head eventually. He doesn’t move. Inhales slowly.
There’s a second hand on his back, pulling him up, and Woohyun’s face is in front of his own now. Serious, and concerned. Dongwoo’s eyes prickle again.
“Dongwoo, I can feel your spine. You lost weight, you really need a break,” his voice is serious, too. Suddenly, he needs to sniffle.
“I’m sorry, Woo- I just, we’ve had this photoshoot and there’s another stage tomorrow and I think I messed your kitchen, and- I fell asleep.“
Woohyun sighs and there’s this feeling, the awful suffocation in Dongwoo’s throat, and, somehow, Woohyun pulls him in right when the first, soft sob echoes in the kitchen.
“It’s going to be fine,” the lips move against his temple as his fists tighten on Woohyun’s shirt.
“Is it?” Dongwoo croaks and it’s stupid because he knows it is, but. But the acquiescence will make it all better. Because it’s Woohyun.
“Yeah. I promise.”
Woohyun’s arms press him even closer. And now, it’s this half-sleep, when your eyes flutter closed and you exhale deeply and you just know. It’s going to be fine.
Because it is, and everything is better with Woohyun. It’s this half-sleep.
A/N
i got the idea when i literally dozed off during my painting theoretical classes. guise. guise. i just. i cannot not write about Dongwoo. dang ;~; every idea for any fic that i get automatically screams DONGWOO FITS THERE PERFECTLY, ANIA, IT HAS TO BE ABOUT HIM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!111 it's scary D: