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theblueintheday2015-04-24 02:31 pm
bluedreaming) wrote in theblueintheday2015-04-24 02:31 pm
Entry tags:
[team sonic] light
Starting word from here.
Title from The soul's release' Catching Fireflies.
This is the fourth story in the Une aube suffit AU, title from this. Preceded by Follow.
"Too."
It's a strange word. Kavinsky rolls it around in his mouth, letting it drop off his mouth into the stillness of the room. It percolates in his thoughts.
Nice to meet you too.
That was all Chanyeol had said—that was his name, after Kavinsky had finally asked—just a formality, meaningless words, things that people say without thinking. Customs drilled into our heads at an early age.
"Nice to meet you too." When Kavinsky says it, now, before, his past stretching behind him like a weight he can't shrug off, it sounds like a lie. When Chanyeol said it, the words seemed to mean something.
He picks at the red thread around his neck. At first he'd been confused, noticing it, but now he's used to it. Likes the sudden flash of red in an overwhelmingly white room, a reminder that this is real. Sometimes he still wakes up dying.
"Joseph?"
Kavinsky flips over, old habits die hard, and his chest explodes. Through gasps he muffles in the sheets, he sees familiar ash blond hair.
Chanyeol?
"Are you alright?" The florist deliveryman looks concerned, tiny wrinkles breaking up the smoothness of his forehead. Kavinsky doesn't like it.
The crumpled metal of another Mitsubishi Evo.
He nods, waits for the pain to numb. "You just surprised me, that's all."
"Sorry about that," Chanyeol says, the characteristic grin back on his face. "I brought you more flowers!" He motions to the arrangement of blue peonies in his hands, the light blue shading of the petals darkening into night at the centre. It looks like the past, somehow, too much blue and not enough red—you can't ignore the pain—but he smiles up anyway. He likes the deliveryman more than the flowers.
Chanyeol sets the arrangement down on the side table and makes a note on his clipboard. Probably something like, Successful delivery! Kavinsky can already imagine the cheerful smiley faces dotting the white paper.
Chanyeol moves to leave and Kavinsky thinks about saying—what? The red string slides over his collarbone as he lifts his arm, and there's a warning twinge in his chest.
Chanyeol smiles as he leaves, the sun lingering for just a moment longer before the rain comes.
Maybe next time.
Title from The soul's release' Catching Fireflies.
This is the fourth story in the Une aube suffit AU, title from this. Preceded by Follow.
"Too."
It's a strange word. Kavinsky rolls it around in his mouth, letting it drop off his mouth into the stillness of the room. It percolates in his thoughts.
Nice to meet you too.
That was all Chanyeol had said—that was his name, after Kavinsky had finally asked—just a formality, meaningless words, things that people say without thinking. Customs drilled into our heads at an early age.
"Nice to meet you too." When Kavinsky says it, now, before, his past stretching behind him like a weight he can't shrug off, it sounds like a lie. When Chanyeol said it, the words seemed to mean something.
He picks at the red thread around his neck. At first he'd been confused, noticing it, but now he's used to it. Likes the sudden flash of red in an overwhelmingly white room, a reminder that this is real. Sometimes he still wakes up dying.
"Joseph?"
Kavinsky flips over, old habits die hard, and his chest explodes. Through gasps he muffles in the sheets, he sees familiar ash blond hair.
Chanyeol?
"Are you alright?" The florist deliveryman looks concerned, tiny wrinkles breaking up the smoothness of his forehead. Kavinsky doesn't like it.
The crumpled metal of another Mitsubishi Evo.
He nods, waits for the pain to numb. "You just surprised me, that's all."
"Sorry about that," Chanyeol says, the characteristic grin back on his face. "I brought you more flowers!" He motions to the arrangement of blue peonies in his hands, the light blue shading of the petals darkening into night at the centre. It looks like the past, somehow, too much blue and not enough red—you can't ignore the pain—but he smiles up anyway. He likes the deliveryman more than the flowers.
Chanyeol sets the arrangement down on the side table and makes a note on his clipboard. Probably something like, Successful delivery! Kavinsky can already imagine the cheerful smiley faces dotting the white paper.
Chanyeol moves to leave and Kavinsky thinks about saying—what? The red string slides over his collarbone as he lifts his arm, and there's a warning twinge in his chest.
Chanyeol smiles as he leaves, the sun lingering for just a moment longer before the rain comes.
Maybe next time.