[for uponinfinity] Rippled Reflections [4/4]

[admortems]

Part IV ◦❀◦ “Why are you trying so hard to fit in when you were born to stand out?”  - Ian Wallace ◦❀◦ It is so loud in the restaurant on Friday night that Luhan can barely hear himself laugh over the commotion, instead letting it swallow up within the gaiety that surrounds him, his own created happiness for others simply basking in him.  It is a tight knit group, consisting mostly of those he knows best from the office and some of their companions, gathered together amid food and drink and good company and his own success shining upon them and bringing merriment to all. Out of the goodness of his heart, Luhan had even asked along the other intern, Junhong, to participate in the celebration of his success, his term ending to a close as well though perhaps with less fortuitous results that Luhan.  He will allow him a moment of enjoyment though, generous and kind as he is, to let the other boy see some form of happiness before he returns to his mundane existence outside of Luhan’s scope. It is crowded for the evening, people cramming into the restaurant all together in their own worlds of connection and enjoyment and he lets his eyes drift among them.  The individuals getting slowly wasted at the bar, caring not for the world and it’s realities, instead choosing to get lost in their own with the assistance of blood toxins.  The table itself is nothing but amusement, Kyuhyun and Minho heading the party with jokes and laughter, Kibum assisting with his own commentary and snarking remarks as Heechul presides and lashes out with his one line statements that have roars of laughter pealing forth.  It is fun, a fantastic arrangement of people and all removed from the constricts of a social and professional hierarchy based on Luhan’s affluence. They are all there for him, all brought together from his interception and his influence.  They are all there for his purpose and his presence, chatting and laughing and contributing, cooperating and laughing and finding joy in his smiles and his commentary. A fantastic job.  An amazing addition.  Please don’t leave us we need you. so loved purrs against his mind, slipping between the cells and seeping into his being.  you are so loved, Luhan.  so cherished and wanted.  do you see your worth?  do you see what you mean?  let it go and just become that which you are supposed to be.  why do you settle for less when you can have the best?  give into it, Luhan.  give in and let yourself indulge in what is rightfully yours. Let out a shuddering breath, the glass of the bottle in his hands, amber liquid blurring inside and fuzzing the edges of consciousness, he breathes in sunfire and resonance.  Don’t let them make him feel weak?  He hasn’t.  Prove to them you are the best?  He has. “Don’t leave man,” Minho pleads beside him, leaning in with an arm around his shoulder.  “It’s not going to be the same without you there.” “You have me for one more week,” Luhan reminds him with a pat to the face that could be condescending if it were anyone but him.  “Cherish it.” “Such a cocky shit,” Minho laughs in his affection and Luhan joins him, ignoring the vibration against his thigh and indulging in the here and now instead of menial pests.  “Who else would put up with you except us?  We should get awards for our tolerance.” “Hardly,” Luhan laughs into his face and Minho leans back to try to switch his drink with a resilient Kibum as Kyuhyun watches with clear eyes.  “I’m going to miss it though.” “All the more reason for you to come back then,” Kyuhyun adds in and smiles over the tabletop to him, reassuring and firm, opened eyes seeing him and approving.  “Don’t forget what you’ve learned here, Luhan.” The phone buzzes against his thigh and he pushes down the ire at being interrupted with such frequency the evening of his celebration.  “I won’t,” he assures and nods solemnly at the older man over the table.  It is never a lie. Luhan never forgets. Yoona goes home first, excusing herself and Luhan uses the time in which the other bid her farewell, fussing over her finding a cab safely, to slip to the bathroom, slipping his phone from his pocket to check over the cause of his interruption.  He scowls. The line picks up after one ring.  “What is it?” he snaps, patience run thin between the nettling plague that has accosted him for the night in the form of another unable to leave him be for social engagement.  “I’m busy.” “Oh, is that why you’ve been ignoring me all day?” snaps back at him, just as harsh and crackling over the phone line in fire.  “Is that why I’ve been sitting here waiting for you and calling to see where the hell you were because you couldn’t see the worth in calling me to tell me you were going to blow me off?” “I have things to do,” Luhan answers, not really in the mood to argue why he had other things on his mind than the petty need of his boyfriend.  “I’ve got other people in my life besides you.” “Me?!” yells through the line.  “Luhan, we made these plans weeks ago!” “Something came up.”  He doesn't want to deal with this.  Minseok is being emotional and overreacting from a simple mistake and his own distraction by important factors and realities which he couldn’t avoid.  Luhan has been treated well at his internship, it is only reasonable that he treat them back with the same effort and care upon the completion of his time there. It is good business.  It is good networking and social building, the steps in the door to climb up and stand above everyone else as they see and respect and revere him. “And you couldn’t answer your fucking phone to tell me?”  Minseok is angry, his voice pitching and it makes Luhan frown in aggravation because he’s being so dramatic about a simple affair.  Luhan has to prioritize things, and occasionally that means his relationship must be compromised for the sake of other things.  “What if you were in the fucking hospital?  How would I know if something had happened to you if you didn’t call?  I almost called the cops, Luhan.  You haven’t been answering all day, I had no idea where you were.” “That the stupidest thing I’ve heard from you,” Luhan half laughs, the absurdity of Minseok calling the authorities just because he didn’t answer his phone laughable.  No one does that unless there is great reason to. “Well, how else was I supposed to know if you hadn’t died in a ditch somewhere,” Minseok bites back, the anger dripping even over the phone, oozing through the receiver.  “Because of course it’s not at all practical just to let me know you had something better to do than spend time with me.  When I drop everything to be with you when you need me, I clearly shouldn’t expect the same from you.” “Minseok, you’re being irrational.”  why do you tolerate this?  are you listening to him? “I’m being irrational,” Minseok scoffs over the line.  “Yes, Luhan.  You’re perfectly reasonable to ignore and fuck off and never contact me over dinner plans for our fucking anniversary to go dick off with your co-workers or whoever it is you’re with.  Your new fuckbuddy for all I fucking am aware of, and I’m the one who is irrationally reacting to this.  I’m sorry for even expecting better of this from someone who can’t even take care of himself.” “The fuck did you just say?” Luhan’s voice is as cold as his nerves, freezing over with ice and venom as fury laces over flesh and bone and burns so hot it’s demonic and fire and bane against his very essence.  “Minseok, what the fuck did you just say to me?” “You know what,” Minseok is scathing, his tone hard and cold and disconnect and Luhan’s temper boils, his grip crackling on the case around his phone, pressuring it into potential destruction.  “Fuck it.  Fuck this.  Fuck all of this shit.” “Minseok, where are you?”  Luhan’s breaths are too short in his chest, hastened by anger and his tone is so low and on the verge of shattering that his vision scatters to black around the edges.  “Minseok, where the fuck are you?” “Do you even fucking care anymore?”  Minseok is angry.  Luhan is furious.  There is no excuse for his.  “Did you ever fucking care?” “I’m coming home,” Luhan tells him, voice hard.  “I’m coming home now, and if you’re not there, I will find you.  I will find you, Minseok.  We aren’t ending this conversation.  This isn’t over.” “It’s isn’t?”  laughs back, derisive and hateful.  “Oh really, right.  I forgot, nothing is fucking over unless you say so.  Fuck that.” The line goes dead abruptly and it takes all of his resolve for Luhan not to hurl the device in fury away from him, destroying it and destroying everything that his eyes see as he burns to take and crush between his hands and make all that stands in his path laid waste.  Don't touch him, he will end you. His eyes in the reflection of the mirror are hot, burning gaze of anger and expression darkened to terrorize should another look upon him. keep it together, growls from the depths of his chest, echoing his fury.  save yourself until you need to use this.  this is your strength, your power, use it and don’t let it use you.  there is only one who has wronged you.  go find him, and teach him what you mean and what he means in relation. “This is fucking bullshit,” Luhan tells his reflection, hands balled to fists at his side, shaking. I know, answers back.  but you don’t have to tell me that.  go tell the one who ‘matters’ to you so much where he belongs. or have you let him own you? Kyuhyun looks surprised, Minho disappointed and Kibum inquisitive when Luhan excuses himself early, dropping a large sum of money to cover the evening and having it pushed back into his hands.  “Go take care of what you need to take care of,” Minho says, a kind slightly fogged look in his eyes.  “We’ll see you on Monday.” ◦❀◦ The way home is a blur, his fingers pressing with insistent force against his phone and checking for messages, calling and getting no response and watching as text after text he sends is never read. fucker. “I’m going to kill him,” Luhan growls. don't waste him like that, growls back.  you don’t need to destroy anything to that degree to make it bend to your will.  remind him of who you are, and remember that he loves you.  remember that you seem so sure you love him.  you are the one that’s so adamant to never let him go. I won’t let him go.  I won’t. I’ll never leave you Luhan, I won’t.  I will always be there for you, always. I won’t let him lie to me, not like I did, not again. With a pounding heart and head, the bus stops and street lights flash by him, buildings shapeless and bleeding into a collage of colors and shapes and recognition which hazes into aggravation, Luhan stumbles home and flings himself up the stairs to his apartment. The door is open and Minseok is half way out, furious line to his mouth and he looks up when he hears Luhan, his eyes darkening.  He scoffs and it punches into Luhan viciously.  “I can’t believe I actually stayed,” Minseok says, voice low and horrific. He lets out a yell as Luhan rushes forward, his hands moving on their own, grabbing and pushing back and around and twisting painful to earn obedience. Minseok lets out a pathetic and surprised yelp as Luhan’s teeth cement in rage.  The door slams shut, locks fitting into place and Minseok stares at him with a face flushed and eyes wide before he laughs. “What the fuck?  Now that I want to go, now that you’re here, I can’t leave?”  Minseok’s laugher is bitter and horrible and Luhan hates it, hates it, HATES IT.  “Is that how it is?”  Laughter spikes through the air and sets fire to the walls.  “Of course, that’s how it always is.” “I have other things to do, you know,” Luhan spits at him, voice splintering in his anger as he advances, whole body tense and waiting for the snap.  “I have other things to do with myself than to take care of your fragile and impressionable self.  Just because I don’t immediately reply doesn’t mean you can fly off the handle at me. I have other things important in my life.  I can’t always cater to you.” “To me?” Minseok’s voice cracks through the room like a whip as he holds his ground, looking furious and unwarrantedly so.  “What the fuck are you on?  This isn’t about me, Luhan.” “Don’t try to flip this around on me,” roars from Luhan before he can calm himself, earning a flinching grimace from his property.  “Don't twist this as if you don’t need me, as if you haven’t spent ages pining and that I'm not the best thing that’s ever happened to you.” “You believe this shit,” Minseok sneers at him, scoffing and laughing and it’s nails against glass and screams irritation and disgust.  “You actually believe what you’re saying, the words coming from your mouth.  You believe what you’re saying.  I’m the problem and you’re perfect.”  Teeth grit hard as he yearns to reach out and shake the truth into Minseok and render him into sense.  Obedience.  Listen to me and the words you say, you worthless underling, I am what you so desire and need.  “I’m so fucking done with this shit,” hisses and a second later Minseok is advancing, ducking around him and moving to the door and something snaps so sharp the wires give in. A scream shatters through the air as Luhan’s body responds before his mind, seizing and preventing, and Minseok’s head snaps back as his back slams into the wall.  Vision sharpens to darkness as the lights shake and Minseok grimaces in pain, mouth wide and his features nothing but agony and desolate. he’s trying to leave you, disobedient Fool. “The fuck did you just say to me?” tears against the walls that try to fall into place so fast, opening gaping wounds that look to never heal.  “You’re leaving me?  You’re going to walk out that door?”  His hands grip so hard they ache, digging into sinew and firm tissue, earning a yelp and a wince as the body before him stiffens and eyes open to burn in hate.  “You can’t leave me, Minseok!” Shaking, pounding, the slam of bone and the thin layer of skin the only protection as he breaks to yield, to force what cannot be said with words physically, and is met with struggling and vicious rebuttal.  “Stop!” rents from a hoarse throat as eyes shine and he cannot see.  “Luhan, stop it!” Limbs lock as the lights flicker and the shadows cast creep up and consume him, slipping down his throat as he leans into Minseok’s face, his weakness showing all over it in fear and anger and desperation.  “You will never leave me,” grinds between his teeth and turns his words to dust, inhaled by Minseok’s gasping breaths as his skin pales to pallid paper before everything hardens. “Fuck you,” Minseok’s words are daggers.  “I thought I could help, I thought there was hope, but there is nothing, Luhan.  We are nothing.” Ignite the combustion of everything as it all hones down to one. fuck. Him. There is no air, it’s being trapped in his lungs.  There is no sound, it’s being cut off by the ringing in his ears.  There is no pulse, it’s being held captive by his anger and all he can see is stupidity and denial and weakness.  There is nothing but the eye of the hurricane as it looks down upon them and all muscles tense waiting for the strike. teach him what it means, let him see what you are and what you can do.  he doesn’t understand who you are or what it means to be with you so remind him of where you stand in his life, where you are, who you are.  he is yours and there is no other way about this.  he doesn’t choose when to leave you, doesn’t treat you like worthlessness and nothing, that isn’t his place.  He Has No Right. The fires roar as the dark red of blood rushes between his ears and there is nothing but the insignificant before him.  “We are everything,” is low and perilous.  do not question me.  “You don’t get to say when you leave me, I do.” “Who are you?”  Cracks along sorrow and pain and misery and hurt and the weakness is raw before his eyes, shavings of a being that once was so good and whole rendered to this pale mask before him.  “What happened to you, Luhan?” the hollow shell of an ideal that stands and can break with a simple hammer and the nails to a coffin lid that crack you open and bleed crimson gunshot wounds as sparkling glass looks on and jeers. “Nothing!” screams and screams and screams as the body in his grasp lurches for freedom that he denies, bones creaking and muscles taut as he holds and pounds and throws back into his territory and his custody. His right. “There is Nothing that happened to me.  I am still Luhan.  I am still me and I am still everything and there isn’t anything wrong with me!”  Wide eyes that swim with dark brown and fear glisten in grief.  “What changed was you!  You were the one that didn’t listen, that didn’t see.” “STOP,” accompanied by a hard hit has him reeling, spilling over and his skin smarting into an ache as he looks back with wide disbelieving eyes. “Did you just-“  he hit you. “I’ll do it again if I have to,” is said with resignation and remorse, shoulders shaking and he can’t process.  “I’m done.  I fucking done with this, with everything, with the rejection and the imploring, and all of it.  One moment you tell me you love me and the next you’re gone and ignoring me and angry and I can’t tell if I’m going crazy or if you are.  Shaking breathing and shaking hands and shaking shoulders and everything regresses into the opposite as Luhan looks upon Minseok, his lover, who stands with red knuckles and eyes that shine before him.  A rushing begins between his ears as he takes in the one who said he loved him. “I can’t believe it when you tell me things because I’m never sure what you’re thinking of, where you’re coming from anymore and I feel like we fell apart, but you keep pulling us together and ripping us apart.  I want to make this work but there is only so much I can take, that anyone can take.  I’m done, Luhan. I’m done.” Words spun in pretty tales all in a floral bouquet as he looks upon the marks of red and purple which will blossom so pretty by the morning.  Anger boils along the fingerprint impressions and all that he can hear is a subtle holocaust of sound that shakes his vision. “No.” how DARE he hit you.  The storm breaks and brings upon the demolition of the final barricade before him.  No words follow but only the increasing roar as he moves without awareness of pain or the struggle under numbed with fury hands, gripping and shoving until the back beneath him is pressed with breaking force into the bed once holy and sanguine.  show him what happens. “Let go!” what happens when you are disobeyed. “Luhan!” “You think that’s it?!” Screams and Shreds through the walls and up the floor, painting them all to bleed as bones crack under his iron fingers.  “You think you can just leave me?  We are not done, Minseok!” Teeth grit as the bare in defiance up at him, face red with anger and FALSE under his strength as smaller hands push to protest against his might.  “You can’t leave me, not really, you will never leave me!  You promised!  You love me and you don’t fucking leave the person you’re in love with!  I never left you!” “Luhan! Stop it!”  Defiance.  Rejection.  Don’t Let Him Do This. they would all leave, wouldn’t they have.  that’s why you always had to leave first, before they could, cut it off and break it to shatters before they could do this to you, before they could ruin you and expose their lying disgust. “Or is it that you’ve found something else?”  Lift up to slam back down, twisting the back to the bed as he presses down, knee digging into vitality and crushing into nothing that is nothing and crumbling for him.   Minseok’s grimacing face as he glares up at  Luhan from the ruin of what was once their bed shared and is now nothing but horror, red lines and hate replacing the once euphoria. “Is that it?  You feel guilty because you’re off fucking around when you’re not with me? Who is it, Minseok?  Who do you have to go to for your sick little trysts?” “You son of a bitch!” hits with the blow of a fist, throwing him off hard.  Minseok is still strong, his anger now so high it burgeons and Luhan feeds on it, latching to it as he grabs the assaulting hand as it reaches back to lay blows again. “What, no whores for the whore?”  His vision swims in black and red and a sickening crack is followed by blinding pain, the jerk back of his head as his nose splits in agony, rushing of blood and the throb of attack.  Shock holds him rigid as he is battered and forced to the side, the hot drip of thick blood down his face from the center having him stiffened in stupification as Minseok wrenches his hands free from Luhan’s vice grip, scrambling away. “I loved you,” rasps over the battlegrounds now smeared with blood, specks lining those porcelain cheeks as tears disfigure him.  Weeping for the fallen.  “I loved you so much, Luhan.  But it was never enough, and it never will be.” Through the throb in his face and the gash in his chest that no one can see, Luhan latches onto one thing from the fog of tormented babble.  “Loved?” he repeats, thick with gore.  “You love me.”  Swallow around the carnage.  “This is-” I am here, I am here, I am here for you. I love you, Luhan.  don’t Forget Me. “This isn’t love,” cracks as everything shakes and falls away from the bottom out, sucking into a vortex of raging colors that clash and despise.  “This, whatever it is, isn’t love anymore, Luhan.” “But You LOVE ME!”  You have, you always have, this is how it is!  The slow congealing drip down his face, streaming down his neck and staining him with life and death simultaneously is strangling. It all begins in blood. “Not like I did.” you UNWORTHY PIECE OF SHIT.  “Not anymore.”  HOW DARE YOU REJECT WHAT HAS BEEN GIVEN TO YOU.  “I love you, but I can’t do this.  I can’t.”  He closes his eyes and shuts Luhan out as the sky falls down. SCREAMING HOWLING WRETCHING THE VILE CREATURE REJECTS THE EXCELLENCE WHICH HAS SO GRACED HIM. Shake apart with the shattering heart that never healed fully and desperation drives forward as a wordless cry pulls from him, arms frantic to cling and keep and never let go don’t leave ever leave you must Stay.  Stumbling from the bed and tripping, he makes to wrap around and keep forever and for a moment, Minseok yields to him again, letting himself be embraced. “You can’t leave me,” he sobs thickly as blood covered hands smear.  Soiling and tarnishing the once true answer.  “You need me and I need you and you can’t walk away from me. I can’t let you!”  Arms tighten to crush to himself, to absorb without intent to ever release.  “I love you, let me do this, don’t go, this will be okay.  Don’t go, I love you and you love me and without me you are nothing.  You need me and I need you and this can’t end, it can never end, it will never end.”  Fingers dig into soft tissue and seek to render immobile and forever his as pain throbs through his face and wreaths around their hearts. “No more!  I can’t take anymore!” howls through the murk of misery and as his hands close the blunt blow to his chest as him flung back into the hard cold nothing as pounding and slams are all that answers his silent pleas of mercy. The door shakes after the departure and silence is all that follows after. he left you. Stop it. he left you and forgot you and abandoned you, Luhan I Hate you! Cold high and cruel laughter.  YOU CAN’T HATE ME screeches from the darkened mirror as wild burning eyes and a jagged smile look down at him, fists pressed hard as he watches in hunger.  I AM YOU AND YOU CAN NEVER, EVER HATE ME AS MUCH AS I LOVE YOU, LUHAN.  YOU NEED ME. Fingers bathed in his own blood thread through his hair as his mouth opens in a gaping maw, arching off the writhing floor in spine snapping screams as lacerations spread from the core out and beckon his downfall. such a wonderful boy, so beautiful and special and perfect just as he is.  who could not love such a wonderful boy as this? “Stop,” sobs as tears of blood carve tracks down his face and slick over the floor in visual depiction of his torment. I will never let you go.  I love you too much to do so. “You promised,” whispers into the cold unkind floor as all that is left in the small apartment is shadow and loss. ◦❀◦ Under the skin is complexity and intricacy, the binding of sinew, flesh, meat and bone and veins, tendons, sinew, muscle and small capillary glands.  With just the right amount of pressure, the skin can break, the infrastructure underneath the protective surface falling victim to outside forces and influence, an external assailant the thing which changes the delicate balance on the surface and under it.  The soft flesh that otherwise remains pale and porcelain smooth, the stretch of immaculate body and ease only broken when something mars its path. The skin flushes as capillaries fill with blood, rising the color and the temperature of it from either emotional and carnal response or in reply to a sudden attack, flushing as a response while pain triggers as the neural reception tells the brain that something has been injured and may be injured further. The face in the mirror looking back at him is ugly, red trickling still down over lips now stained crimson and bloody, open and panting as the nose that is so horrific is blocked for normal respiratory function.  Broken? Perhaps, but broken things may be fixed, they can be mended and many people have been broken before, their faces put beyond repair and recognition and brought back to life and their glory. you look hideous. A sigh fans against the glass, his heart beating too hard and too loud and cutting out the sound of the water washing gently down through tracks of red in the sink.  It is caked under his fingernails, disgusting ruined dark copper and brown.  The steam of the shower rises around him, wreathing him in white and making the ends of his dark brown hair damp, clinging to him as he looks at his reflection and examines the dark purple and split skin of his nose. it could be worse, murmurs gently as he feels the steam creep up his back, tendrils tickling at his bare skin as he stands and the sound of the water drowns out his breathing in the reverberating walls of the bathroom.  you could be all alone, with no one after him.  just abandoned by one lover who you thought would be the last and left to decay in your misery.  think of that, my sweet. The steam licks along his back, climbing higher and higher as it wraps around him, eyes blinking slowly at him in the reflection as the fog sinks into his mind. In the kitchen there are six bottles in the sink, empty and half cracked, discarded and sucked dry and the water in the shower that pounds against the walls is a mimicry of the thinned blood in his veins that swirls him down the drain as he gasps in blood tasting air.  He coughs and red droplets splatter across the mirrors surface, over his face reflective. you look so good in red, curls around him, lapping against skin heated and prickling in half numb sensitivity as his fingers curl around the edges of the sink basin, knuckles turning white.  you look best like this.  Breathe out.  with nothing hiding you from view.   A whisper over skin that is soft and supple to the touch, twining along strong toned arms and thighs of steel, nuzzling at his stomach and sighing against him.   I need nothing more from you than this, Luhan.  I will never ask you to do things you aren’t ready to do, beg from you and push you further than you can go.  I know your limits, which are boundless, but I know how to please you, I know what you want, how to give you everything. His strength is weakening, staring down the rabbit hole as it draws out and digs in from the edges and the longer he looks at the face in the mirror, the more whole it becomes.  Slowly, the flesh repairs, the skin returning from broken and bruised to smooth and flawless as the eyes look less broken and hollow and dead, full of loss and an empty heart, and take on vitality that he only begs for now.  That he yearns for more and more as the stark world begins to nip at the edges of his darkened senses. “I love him,” cracks his voice to slip down the shower walls and drain away into nothing as his shoulders shake.  “Why did he leave me?  Why do they all have to leave me?”  All the ones who he has loved, truly loved, in the end they drop him and refuse.  They all leave and it always ends with blood somehow. oh precious, smoothes as the figure before him strikes sympathy over it’s breathtaking features, softening into compassion and affection.  oh my dear sweet one, I warned you. Up reaches a hand, so like his own, though his remains on the sink basin, gripping too hard and turning the same color of the porcelain under it.  The hand stretches out, fingertips, white and clean of blood, press to the surface of the mirror, longing to reach and touch.  To hold him and love him.  Luhan pines for a touch as such as he is offered in the mirror as a hollow war cry sounds from the trapped components of his past still tucked away and now buried under the rubble of his mind. I told you, Luhan, the perfection in the mirror speaks to him with words laced with the fragrance of flowers and the greatness of the universe.  I told you he would leave you.  I saw and I mourned for how he did not love you, not as he should have, not as you deserve and need to be loved. Luhan wants to close his eyes, throat tight and aching as the holes that have spread through him, ruptured through him like a barrage of bullets imbedding into his flesh in iron wads of despair.  “I know.” do you see what happens when you don’t listen to me, Luhan? the sweet and caring voice caresses over him, hands sliding up with airy touches that flicker over his skin, hot with sentiment.  The water falls down and sloshes into his mind as the cry of the ocean lingers at the back of his throat.  do you see what happens when you don’t let me in?  when you shut me out and reject me?  I am not your enemy.  I never have been and I never will be.  I only want the best for you. Bones shake and hearts no longer beat, the drops of blood flecking into the sink below him before being swept away to return the surface gleaming clean and immaculate. why do you still reject me so? pleads from the glass, from lips perfectly succulent and Luhan’s feet slip on the floor damp with water and his own life source.  The eyes on his own flicker in concern.  I am not trying to hurt you but make you see the truth.  Swallow around the spines of lies he has been drinking his whole life.  Only I  love you, break the glass. you can’t trust the others.  I can.  I will, I want to find a way.  stop letting them in to only hurt you.  only I can love you the way you want to be loved.  only i know how and only I can.  let me. The curl within as his fingers clench and his chest rises and falls with the rapidity of breath, eyes closed.  Opening to the blur of sound and light, he sees himself, nose broken and bloody and a face pure and whole beside him, behind him with arms around him, the feeling ghosting in the mist and his breath catches. “No.” let me love you, please, my love will do nothing but heal your battered heart and soul. “I don’t need it,” gasps out as he turns his head to the vision wrapped around him and sees himself alone in the bathroom, empty but for the swimming sounds of water and his own pounding heart.  “I don’t love you like that, like you drain from me to do so.” who else can you love then if not yourself? coos back, hands touching invisible and he feels the breath against the side of his neck, sensitive and prickling.  His mouth dries with revulsion and sickening desire as he does not stop.  Wind from lips whistles along vulnerable flesh rising to the feeling.   you don’t need anyone else but me, Luhan, draws over him, darkening his vision as it swims and sinks down into the hollow moan of the depths of himself.  you need no one else to truly love you, and who are you to say you do not love me in this way when I already know.  I already have seen your heart, feeble as it beats within you but with a persistence that I so adore.  I have see your soul and you are everything that is anything.  I can love you the way you want to be loved, the way you should be loved.  Have you forgotten me? I told you to never forget me, Luhan.  You promised me you never would.  Are you so fickle to refuse me even now? Drifting into the weightless space of nothing, Luhan opens his eyes as he lets himself slip down, down, down into nothing and the fluorescent lights of the bathroom blind against his eyes as the floor rips from under his feet.  “No,” gasps from weak lips, cracked and fragile. there is only us, Luhan.  Falling down, down, down as the world slows and each individual drop of water stands suspended falling from the shower faucet to join the rest in their race to the drain.  Only us, two as one. don’t be weak. Give up, my love, and let me embrace you at last. Consent never comes, only the sickening crack as the ceiling rises higher and higher and a blinding flash of white splits to the side of his head before compressing to black. I will always wait for you. I will always be here for you. there is no other place I want to be than with you, Luhan.  do you not feel the same, my love? until the end of your days, the end of your time here upon this earthly plane, I will stay with you, reside with you, love you and cherish you and when the time comes, you will never feel that crippling sense of loneliness. I will never let you die alone, I swear it, my love, I swear. ◦❀◦ The gun lay only having been loaded with only one shot, dropped to the carpet alone and forlorn with it’s master slumped to the ground beside it.  The eyes remained open and glassy, the red seeped long ago as far as it could into the carpet, staining it red and polluting the carpet with a forever taint of metallic and meat. There was no one home, the doors locked from the inside and the windows all the only witnesses with their walls as confidants.  There had been no one else, no one to hold a shaking hand and a voice to take the weapon and wrap in arms and speak to a trembling heart ‘I am here for you, and I see you suffer.’ It was alone, and with the final pull of the trigger, there was no one else who followed and held and joined, only a one man’s cowardly journey to the darkness beyond and the sadness and grief that had consumed his weak heart and sickened mind. Alone. Luhan opens his eyes slowly to the ceiling of the bathroom, the water sticking to his back as it washes over the floor, cleaning and lapping against him and the cool tile is refreshing.  He blinks, slow and methodically, the light fixture swimming into view and registering in his mind as present and observing. His back aches, his nose throbbing from the assault and his head aches, sticky to the touch from when everything pulsed and collapsed the eve previous when conversations were sixteen sided and made of polished blood flecked glass. His water bill this month is going to go up. In five days, Luhan will move out. “I am not alone,” he speaks with a low emotionless voice, sprawled in the space between the wall and the toilet with his legs aching from stiffness and his mind blurry with faces, names, and voices that all roll into one that speaks in a low rumbling. I am always here with you, caresses down to press into his lips as his eyes fall closed once more. ◦❀◦ Be brave, my love.  Be strong and fast and sure.  Triumph where others fail and show them all the might that you possess.  Reach for the world and when the stars cast you down, let my arms be that which you fall into.  Let me be the one who holds you when you are in times of need, let me keep you safe and warm and loved.  Let me be your ‘here’.  Let me be your everything just as you are mine. I so long for you, words cannot speak it, my desire and my yearning, the grief which I have born to have you accept me, to have you see my pain, my hurt, and my affection.  I see you suffer as you never see me and I weep to reach out and ease your suffering.  Would that you let me do this, I would never let any harm come to you. Please do not let us both suffer in this way.  Please accept you, accept me, accept us, and let us be whole and one and no longer cracked and so grievously injured where our love is cast in two.  Where I love and seek to be loved and your blindness and fear keeps you from seeing how magnificent and wonderful you are. Can you not see me?  Can you not see my love?  Can you not see your own? ◦❀◦ There are no comments at work, only the looks and a few passing whispers that mean nothing and fall on deaf ears as mindless tasks consume Luhan’s time and focus.  He doesn’t hear, doesn’t see, and chooses not to acknowledge the foolish chattering of whimsical minds.  Tomorrow is the last day, and he leaves.  The period of break is over and the distractions cease and the buzzing in his mind rises amid a flurry of whispers and muted admonishments and simpering voices. The apartment is cleared, furniture absent and the space vacant, holding almost no trace that there had been a temporary home, a place of sanctuary and happiness and comfort, a place of love for such a short time.  The walls hold nothing but observations and Luhan dropped the keys three days before their scheduled return, looking away from memories and looking ahead at something better. “You sure you can’t join us for one last game?” Minho asks as he walks by, his voice softer and kinder than usual as he looks at Luhan and the pity makes Luhan’s stomach turn. "Sorry," Luhan says, his voice distant on his ears as his hands ache from pulled muscles and blows that shook too hard.  "I really can't.  I have to go home for a bit before going back to uni.  You know what that is like, the whole dull transition period between job and school and home."  He offers Minho a final smile as the feeling in his mouth heightens to revulsion at the idea of remaining in this city which has done nothing but offer pollutants to his life, darkness and tainting him with filth.  "You're just going to have to do your best without me."   "Hey," Minho says as Luhan makes to turn back to his work and a mantle of exhaustion settles over him.  The weekend had been spent moving furniture, scrubbing stains and blocking out the lack of another presence that seemed to linger about him no matter where he looked. All texts come up with nothing and Luhan isn't going to fight.  It isn’t his job to remind Minseok of what he’s given up, what he’s forsaken, what he’s doing to himself, to them, to him. He needs time.  He just needs time to understand, to realize. he left you, Luhan.  don't try to convince yourself otherwise.  he left you and no degree of space is going to make him come back.  he's gone, because you let him leave.  you let him walk away from you like the ingrate he is. Luhan breathes in, looking up at Minho and trying to appear nonchalant when everything he does feels like a trail of Hell.  "Yeah?" "If you need anything," Minho begins with a vague hand gesture and Luhan's eyebrow raises. "Just- you know."  He offers him a weakened smile that is laced with empathy. My condolences for your loss are the standards that seem to pass with every experience Luhan slams into and his fingers are stiff and sore from the restraint of holding onto the reality that the pity does nothing but aggravate the anger and the wound that he licks clean to heal himself. we don’t need your patronizing sympathetic repose. "Thanks," Luhan says, disjointed though it does the job of sounding sincere and real.  Real enough that Minho smiles and flashes him a wave.  Real enough that Junhong beside him doesn't look up from his desk all day and that Yoona still laughs over the break lunch table.  His smile is real enough that he doesn't get questions as the day progresses, and when he looks at his face in the bathroom mirror, he can see the fading of purple bruising and closing skin from the garish disfigurement on his face. you're still handsome, soothes as the phantom feeling of arms wrap around his waist and the only thing he wants now is for those arms to be real, for the voice to be different and the feeling to return to his world.  I still think you're the most beautiful and handsome thing that exists, Luhan.   The want for gentle caring kisses to press down his neck in a slow exposition of him, a reassurance of his being and his validity.  inner beauty and outer surpassing all that may appear in your life.  all those before or after you hold no competition.  it would do others well to remove the blinds from their eyes and see the same. "Then why did he leave?" Luhan asks, his voice hollow as it reverberates off the tiled walls and the enclosed space of the bathroom, his own question asked to him a thousand times over.  "Why did he leave me?" you don't need him purrs as he closes his eyes from the image of himself in the mirror opposite.  he wasn't worth it if he didn't stay.  he wasn't worth it, Luhan.  You need someone who will truly love you and adore you.  all he kept seeing were flaws, saying there was something wrong when there clearly isn't, my love.  he kept wanting to change you, do something that so corrupted the perfection which already exists.  you don't change the person you love to make them worthy of your love, Luhan.  You love them for who they are and don't force them to become something they aren’t.  he didn't truly love you, not as all of you, as a whole and he didn’t know how, couldn’t know how.  it would have ended in suffering sooner or later, so don't give him your time, your energy.  use it elsewhere, and let yourself be rid of his menace. The air that fills his lungs is cool and recycled, pure and passing to give him life and keep his body sustained.  He thinks back, on the way his father's pathetic existence had been shut down so swiftly with just a piece of metal and iron passing through his skull.  He thinks of how Yixing and Jongin both suffered from weakness, their bodies giving way after so much use and time and strain on it, weakening to the point that their faces twisted in agony at a wrong turn.  He thinks of his own issues, the bone nearly broken in his face but thankfully not.  He thinks of Minseok's yells and curses as Luhan so easily moved him as was necessary. He thinks of the human body and how easily it breaks just as much as how amazingly it endures so much. you do not break easily, Luhan.  You are stronger than anything that has yet come to be. "Am I so?" he asks, soft and lingering at the edges of his lips. move on curls around his thoughts and pulls him back into the darker places, the rubble clearing as winds move over it and turning it to dust, flecked with silver and onyx and vanishing into the sky.  move on from this pain, my love.  move on from this terrible episode of a love that was not freely given.  he tried to love you, but he himself was so flawed and broken he couldn't see anything but his own flaws projected onto you. “You yourself, as much as anybody in the entire universe, deserve your love and affection” - Siddhārtha Gautama "No," Luhan pulls back, stepping from the mirror and turning away, averting himself from the pristine figure he knows is standing watching and waiting for him.  Hands pressed to glass that leave no imprint upon removal, detached from him and just out of reach, the cold thin barrier under his hands as his own breath fogs the eyes filled with love and languish that fix on him and never stray. you can't hold on forever, reminds him and the words are true even if he hates the notion of acceptance.  Life moves on and he must move on and to linger is weak and foolish and pathetic.  think of how this has so burdened you.  think of how it is everything that you are not supposed to be.  the lingering of feelings such as these are what make a person weak and vulnerable.   they drive them to madness, to depression to shame and lack of self worth.   A low building curl in his abdomen draws his attention as the ghosting of fingers begins to crawl down his stomach, holding him secure and steady.  those others who succumbed to such horrible thoughts that proved nothing but weakness and lack of self value.  those who do not have the right to live are the ones that do not survive.  you have passed that barrier since you were born, living and thriving and walking through life with a head held high and everything to show for it. Open his eyes to look to the wall and breath deep and even breaths.  He sees and stands and exists in this time frame, on this plane, even as he sees and stands and exists on the other, standing in the sands of thought and wind which has taken the once atrium high structure and brought it down so it is nothing but desert sands of opal black and the long stretch of brilliant swimming cosmic color above him.  With two eyes he sees and with a third, he observes. you are whole. On his last day of his internship, Luhan smiles and is greeted with hugs and well wishes from his coworkers, laughing and reminiscent of the summer as they drop by and bid him farewell.  He will be back, he promises them.  He will come back and join them. Yes, he is okay.  more than okay.  Yes, he is fine. “Luhan?” Kyuhyun asks, a hand on his shoulder and eyebrows risen in question as he looks down at his intern who has so exceeded his expectations. “I’m great,” Luhan tells him, the honest rock between his lungs sinking deeper and deeper into him, keeping him steady, keeping him stone. you are perfect whispers and his smile turns sweet as the summer rain on the ground outside as the classical music drifts gently from his mother’s office and is the only thing that fills an empty house. you are Luhan. I am everything. ◦❀◦ The hot stick of the air to his skin is disgusting, the summer sun still too high in the sky as he looks at the door before him to a house he is expected to still refer to as a home when he wonders if there exists such a place any longer.  There is everything here, memory upon memory which all cycles back and spirals into the ugly display of reality which he for so long was better to ignore.  The laughter which was always just enough contained in the walls, the rooms carefully laid out with each piece of furniture in it’s exact proper location. Proper. The clothing on his back, draped around his form and setting him into the image of excellence is proper, his posture, straight and strong with shoulders back and radiating the confidence he has been so drilled to exhibit, is proper.  The styling of his hair, the academic and personal history that the neighbors and company fellows have been boasted to about, the wonderful vision of a son who will do nothing but progress far beyond that which the father had faulted in. you are not him.  you will never be him. In the dying rays of the sunlight from August, Luhan doesn’t open the door on natural whim and method.  Instead he stands, waiting with his bag slung over his shoulders and the feeling of the wood against his knuckles from knocking, the lingering pain from his face forced to the back of his mind.  He waits, lacking all expression and imposition, breath passing in and out of his lungs as he feels the soft touch of fingers slip down the side of his neck following the lines of translucent perspiration. The door opens after far too long and his mother blinks up at him, her eyes drawing wide for a moment before she steps back. “You knocked,” she says and Luhan doesn’t move.  He hadn’t expected to be home this early, ahead of schedule and skin itching to move and rid himself of the noise and clamor of the city as fast as he could.  The resonance of it still echoes in his mind, drifting in through open windows as he lay in a bed that bled with regret and hate and a body shivered with life in his arms only to rip from him when he needed it most. “Is that not what is appropriate, mother?” Luhan asks, watching as the sunlight plays over her face, casting her features into brightness and the orange and red tints of the dying sun. “You look well.” “You look-” the words falter and Luhan doesn’t want to listen to her and her commentary about his appearance and how it is potentially displeasing to her, how he shows the impact of a breakup in plain view over his face. “Am I to eat on my own tonight or are we dining together?”  Luhan asks, stepping forward and watching as she steps back in turn, her face darkening and the distance is vast, further than it ever was.  He no longer wants to cross it, to venture over the long hard terrain and black sands that slip from his hands and drag him down to nothing as her eyes harden and she can’t see for her own blindness. “I didn’t expect you home until later,” his mother says, stepping back still further and even her voice is far away.  Luhan looks at her and sees the wraith of the woman he knew, a figment of the mother who was so strong, who raised him to fight and to bite back to those who defied him and to remember to never give in and never give up. Of course she didn’t.  Luhan hadn’t called ahead to tell her he would be early.  He hadn’t called her to tell her his face had been nearly broken.  He called her to only tell her that he was coming home today and may be late depending on the traffic and his own work schedule. The care is no longer for him. I care for you though.  I will always care for you and about you.  you don’t need others, only me, my love. “Are you hungry?” she asks, and her eyes flicker as she watches him pass her, disregarding and clipped. “No.”  The ache in his abdomen is less from hunger and the spike up his chest is more of a certification of himself.  you should eat.  “I’m fine.”  don’t ignore me and take care of yourself.  you always take care of other things except for yourself.  school and work always came before your own health and happiness. Happiness. The smiles on his face and he breathes in hot acrid air. “Have you told Zitao you are home?”  His jaw clenches at the mention of the other, his cousin, still at home and still pining after another boy who shows him none of the affection he fruitlessly desires.  “Or Yixing?  I haven’t heard from him or about him in a while from-” “Yixing and I don’t hang out anymore,” Luhan cuts her off tersely.  “I’m tired.”  rest with me.  “I will see you in the morning.” “Luhan,” comes hard and curt and has his feet pausing as they mount the stairs, turning sharply to the eyes that are just as brutal directed at him. “What?” blithe and uncaring.  What right has she to speak to him with such a tone, as if he causes the problems here and not she?  She who judged and pushed and forced him into this world and then was still too wrapped in her own world to understand the paragon her son had become. you don’t need her approval, Luhan.  you don’t need her anymore. “Is that all?” she asks and it’s cruel. His eyes narrow briefly as they meet hers, a spidering of tension stringing up his back and over his skin, etching into his flesh in revulsion.  “Is it never enough?” he asks, low and soft and with the edge of peril to it that flashes her pretty face a shade uncalled for and far from beautiful.  “Is none of it ever enough for you?  Must you be so covetous and insatiable?”  Pretty eyes darkened around the edges to give emphasis widen in shock at his words. you don’t need her. DROP her.  walk away, she means nothing, none of them mean anything and they all will do nothing but disappoint you.  His hand grip tightens on the strap of his bag as he looks at the woman who brought him life and introduced him to death so early as he looked into a dark wood coffin and gazed down at the gruesome figure of his worthless father and everything he could never become.  leave her for now, she is nothing and you do not need to waste your strength on her.  be patient, my love.  she cannot understand and see you.  it is her loss. No words pass from her lips as they part gently and her face flashes with turmoil, emotion that even she cannot seem to comprehend and Luhan resists the urge to sneer.  He has done all she taught him, all she expected, to never let the others consume him like they had his father, to bring him down into the depths of despair and dependency. He needs no one. Not even her. “I’ll be in my room,” he tells her, voice cold and simple.  “Please don’t wait up and good evening.”  Turn from the final junction and ascend to his respected place. “Luhan,” speaks finally and is softer, imploring and exposed, the weakest he has ever heard from her and he doesn’t turn, continuing from the last frail entity which he must still hold onto for necessity. The room is the same.  It is all always the same.  The bed with too many memories of himself and others now imprinted in the patterns unseen against the sheets and the lamp still with the same casting glow to the desk that remains uncluttered.  His bag drops and the figure in the mirror smirks as it leans against the frame. you let yourself get so worked up, he speaks, brushing his dark bangs from his face.  why do you let her affect you still so strongly?  what worth does she have for you now?  you know you are worth more than she projects and that she is too blind to see. “Shut up,” Luhan tells him and earns a laugh.  The mirror ripples as the laughter rings between his ears and his vision swims.  He is tired, so tired and the crippling exhaustion and tension stretches over him. don’t say I don’t know because we both know that I do.  A sigh as bright brown eyes trail over him and teeth gently nudge into a bottom lip, leaving it swollen and pretty.  why don’t you rest?  please?  just let go and let us be?  I promise that no harm will come of it. His throat is dry, raw from work and talking and too much caffeine from coffee dripping down it, parched to the dry black of an endless desert.  His eyes feel filled with sand and as he closes them he feels it drip over himself, a cascade as grains of it slip down his skin, scouring him and scraping away all of the grime and dirt from the world.  The black granules skittering over his skin and leaving it tender and new, supple and smooth to the touch and he gasps in as a figmented touch brushes over him, a mouth just barely whispering to his and his heart dives for it in lust. just one more step, one more thing that you have to do and we can be.  let me have you Luhan, just as you wish for it to truly be.  for someone to love you, to see you, to have the best and be with the best.  you know who you are and you know what is rightfully yours.  take it, take yourself, take me. Open his eyes to look back into the familiar reflection in a white tiled room, the clean laundered towels behind his mirrored vision of himself.  The medicine cabinet is the same, the running of the water in the shower beside him exactly as it always is, the light drumming of the water reminiscent of the rain that falls and washes the world clean, the surface flashing when disrupted and when still, smooth as glass and displaying the world upside down in all bodies of immobile water. The rain disrupts the balance and starts it over. lie with me. echoes as he in the mirror stands behind him in the world, eyes meeting as it wraps around him and he watches as hands trail down, trail over and cheeks flush with passion and care, the lingering feeling prickling over his own bare skin.  be with me and allow me.  stop fighting me, Luhan, and just embrace yourself.  reach out and take it, take you, take me, take us. He closes his eyes, blocking it out and the sigh against his skin is in resignation as the steam begins to nip at his senses and crumble away. ◦❀◦ The obnoxious buzzing continues, loud and irritating and Luhan resists the urge to slam his face under his pillow in irritation for the knowledge of doing so would only cause him pain.  His nose is still bruised, still marred though the damage is barely visible. it will heal in time.  Luhan sighs, a long exhale as he flops back into the bed, the mattress formed to his body and springing lightly at his weight.  you are always a vision to behold regardless of slight imperfection and you know it.  I have the privilege where many do not of knowing how gorgeous you are in all portions and seeing them forever. Creep. A high amused laugh as the vibration begins to agitate his phone over his desk once more and Luhan grits his teeth in a snarl before finally hurling himself from the bed to answer the infernal device.  “What?” “God, do you ever answer your phone anymore?” Stiffen as his eyes clear, his grip on his phone a vice as his blood runs cold.  why didn’t you check?  You always check.  Fool  The line shouldn’t be connected, the call shouldn’t be answered and Luhan’s eyes flash to the desk which is vacant of all things save for the journal which never leaves and has pages leaking from it in a repulsive ooze of discoloration.  He swallows down a throat filled with black sands.  he doesn’t deserve to talk to you, are you really going to speak to him after all of his behavior? “Why are you calling me?” It takes a moment for his voice to calm enough to speak properly.  The clock on the bedside table reads just past eight in the morning.  “I thought you had other things you resigned yourself to rather than myself.” watch him crawl, watch him repent.  if he has realized what you mean and are to him, will you allow him back?  will you let him come back to you and slime him way back into your favor?  are you so weak as to still need someone such as he? There is a long silence on the other end.  “I just wanted to-“ “To what?  To chat?  To catch up like old times?” “To see if you’re okay,” is less kind now, a greater bite that is laced with other tones that are too difficult to decipher through the phone.  “Honestly, I just haven’t talked to you in so long and this summer was weird.” “Why?” Luhan snaps too fast, straightening to stand and he stares into nothing but the memories that flash from a long history that ended with betrayal.  “Because you regretted it?  Because you refused to talk to me?   To even contact me the whole summer?” “Look, this summer sucked okay, and I just wanted-“ “To what?”  Luhan has no patience, no more tolerance for this, not the spin and the tuck and the game that goes no where.  A game is not fun when the conclusion is an unequal balance and the scales are already tipped.  He saw where the ending of this was, where Yixing chooses others and runs from himself and his own realities and rejects the truths of his life and smears Luhan with figments of his own ineptitude.  “To talk?  You want to talk to me now Yixing?  After all the shit you pulled and-“ “Shit I pulled?” is loud and high on the other end of the line and Luhan’s air is hot in his lungs as he breathes it into the furnace of irritation. hang up the phone.  His fingers tighten on the small device and the plastic crackles against the pressure.  hang up the phone now, Luhan. There is a loud sigh over the phone, static driven and a sharp turn of the head has pain spiking through Luhan’s nose, the harsh movement irritating the injury and his heart slams in hideous reminder of all those who lost him. “Look,” sighs. Hang Up NOW. “I didn’t call to fight with you,” Yixing sounds tired, like he’d rather do anything but revisit the stupidity that had caused this rift by Yixing’s own foolish action and warmongering.  “I called because I missed you and wanted to see how you were doing.  I haven’t seen you for so long.” do you see what he’s doing? “You missed me?” Luhan asks, voice quieter as his eyebrows raise, a slight numbing spreading through his limb.  “I see,” he says and Yixing is silent on the other end, waiting.  “You missed me, Yixing, you didn’t realize what it would mean, to refuse me, to reject me and to do all that you did.  Did you realize your mistake?”  A victorious sneer draws over his mouth as his eyes flash and the light streaming into the room is still not enough to fill the shadows that still linger as the walls bow around him. “My-“ “Mistake,” Luhan snarls in triumph.  HE NEVER UNDERSTOOD HE NEVER LET IT BE.  HE LEFT YOU AND DESTROYED WHAT YOU HAD.  HOW CAN YOU THINK OF TRUSTING HIM AGAIN?  “And now here you are crawling back to me because you understand.” “I’m, Luhan stop, no,” Yixing’s voice is too fast, too rapid and falling over itself as it spills into Luhan’s ears in ugly poisonous venom. all the affection, all the love, all the caring, will you take it back when you know he’ll just rip it from you so soon and cast you to death and destruction when he is even slightly threatened?  You are better than him, deserve more than he can give you, and should never settle with him.  you settled once and you know the menace of that ending. “You need me, you’re calling me because you miss me and you need me,” Luhan’s breathing is too fast, short and his words come out half supported and sounding desperate where he isn’t.  “You need me, don’t you.  You need me in your life, you want me there and you realize that.” “I miss my best friend,” Yixing says, voice firm and strong and it punctuates in a staccato rhythm into his thoughts that spiral and scream and blow with the tantrum winds over the sands and the cosmic violence that has replaced the sanctuary.  “I want my best friend back, Luhan.” “You want me back.” Luhan is triumphant.  Of course Yixing wants him back, of course Yixing would realize how necessary Luhan is, how significant and irreplaceable Luhan is.  How vital his presence is and how blessed Yixing has been to have him for so long, to be in such high held favor for such a period of time.  To know Luhan at all. “I want things to go back to how they were, before everything changed,” Yixing’s voice chokes and it stabs everything to a halt. “Nothing changed!” howls through the wind and the grip around is too strong, too suffocating as the spots in his vision sharpen to holes of emptiness. “It did, Luhan!” Yixing never yells, rarely yells, the experience shocking when he does for someone who is so calm and easy going and Luhan feels his bones lock and joints seize.  “It did change!  I don’t know what happened or what it was but it all changed, it has been changing and I don’t know if it was you or me or Minseok-“ rip open the veils and tear it apart and to pieces and never let it rest again as the steady gushing of trauma cascade into anguish and the sobs choke in his throat as his eyes remain dry and he can’t. let. Go. LUHAN. Eyes slam shut and block out everything as he steps back, breath seizing in his chest as it pitches beyond anger, beyond rage, beyond fury and he shakes, the hands that had passed down so gently the cause of the wreckage that mars his visage. I WARNED YOU.  I TOLD YOU NO BUT YOU DIDN’T LISTEN.  HE NEVER LOVED YOU LIKE YOU NEEDED.  I WARNED YOU AND YOU REJECTED EVERYTHING THAT WAS TRUE “Don’t fucking talk about that!” bellows as he nearly hurls the phone, casting it away and destroys the disfigured reminder.  “You don’t know anything about what the fuck happened between us.  You just stood at the sides and watched, you didn’t care, you never did, you selfish fuck.  You’re worse than him, than anyone and you have no right to bring that up.”  There is no air, there is no space to breathe and the psychobabble at the other end of the line falls into a muffled garble.  “You’re crawling back, thinking now that he’s fucked it all up, you can come back and be welcomed with kindness, with relief, because you can never be as bad as he was.” Stop it. STOP it you can’t talk about this.  You DO NOT let them see how much it can affect you.  You DO NOT love them.  You DO NOT. who can I love? who can love me? What is love but a twisted design for lies and treachery to slip in and devastate all that was once beautiful?  Love, the cause of war, of death, of all of the most famous tradegy and the greatest and hardest to heal wounds.  The greatest joy and the strongest curse. don’t let them drag you under, don't let them do as they did to him, don’t let yourself be weak as you have been.  don’t trust them, they will only seek to tear you down.  people always destroy that which is better than they are for jealousy and envy.  do not let them do so to you, Luhan.  for you are too perfect to DESTROY as they so thirst to do so. “That’s not-“ “Fuck you,” hiss and hate and push back and back and back before it can latch into him again.  He doesn’t believe in lies, the doesn’t trust them anymore, tired of trusting and being stripped to treachery so soon after.  “You’re not calling because you care about me, because you’re worried about me but because you fucking need me, because you want me, you wish you had me, you want to use me.  Your selfishness is revolting.” “This isn’t you,” gasps and crumbles and he can’t see, vision clouding black as he breathes fire and needles and the world tilts too far and his balance compromises.  He’s going to fall.  I’ll catch you always.  Plummet to the ground and smash into dust.  I will heal you.  Vanish from the horrific cage that he’s been constructed into.  I am here for you.  “What happened to you that made you like this?  What went wrong?” Futile fissures inlay so deep they break to the other side.  “THERE IS NOTHING WRONG WITH ME,” rips through the air and the phone resides no longer at his ear but before his mouth as he screams the answer and releases the grip.  The clatter the floor isn’t heard as the screen cracks and his hands instead thread into his hair, fingers pressing hard into his skull to hold it together, to contain the pounding rage that beats its way free and it all combusts. NEVER LISTEN TO HIM booms and thunders and his back bows forward as his mouth gapes.  my beautiful one, you are whole, you are everything you are WORTHLESS without me and with him you are WRETCHED and vile and THIS IS WHERE YOU ARE EVERYTHING. The flash of millions, all the same, the reflection and the manifestation as hands reach and grab and pull him down, the skies a chaos of color and madness as it spikes too far to see and he is swallowed in a sea of himself and all hands pulling and grappling for him, with him as he fights and his mouth stretches so wide it swallows him whole. A blackness that is darker than the dead of nothing and he breathes in liquid metal that stiffens and blocks his life into stagnation. no others, only me, swallows him as the ideal of his paradigm flashes before him, gripping and pulling and he feels his knees hit the floor painfully and lets out a loud yell. “Luhan!” yells suddenly and splinters through him, his eyes flashing open. Fear laces over those pretty features and his mother’s hand rests gripping white on the doorknob as she looks at him like she has never looked at him before. “Get out!” he rasps, voice nothing but ice and slaughter and her breaths catch.  “Get the fuck out.”  Hesitation and “NOW!” The door slams and with ragged breathing Luhan turns to face the shadows that fall down the walls to creep towards him, two decades of memories slithering towards him to claim him as theirs and he reels back to knock over the only barrier from himself. A crash and the mirror almost shatters, creaking as he lies atop it and he on the other side pounds noiseless fists and screams in distraught terror as he tries to reach himself and the roar of everything implodes and tunnels to black. ◦❀◦ The gentle rustle of his hair is soothing, the soft brushing of air against his skin calming and the fragile draw of warm fingertips the tranquil peace he so requires.  He needs, he years, he has pined for this, the pure and abject devotion in these delicate touches and his throat clenches as behind his eyes begins to prickle with the immensity of it all. don’t let them see you cry, for they will find you weak. oh my dear love, you never must hide such things from me. settles with impeccable kindness and ardor into him with the embrace of love.  there is no weakness in you for weeping before me, with me, for I cannot be with you and weep with you if you do not weep with me. Shake with the force of it and the desperation to be free, to reach blindly for that touch, that feeling, and the acceptance of all of him. you are not wrong, you are not sick, you are not weak or broken or bad.  do you understand?  you are my everything and will you ever let me be yours as I so want to be. The brush of lips to his is so tender and sweet the sorrow of wonders cannot be expressed by any piece or song or language for the wretched surge in his being. “Do you love me?” A soft laugh that is his own and yet not for he has never heard such love before from his own lips.  I always have, Luhan.  I’ve just been waiting for you to love me back. ◦❀◦ “The greatest thing in the world is to know how to belong to oneself.”― Michel de Montaigne, The Complete Essays ◦❀◦ The next morning dawns gorgeous and spiking dawn in hues of pink and blue and purple yellows over the horizon, seeping into the room and splaying over the crumpled form that curls on the bed and reflects off the lamp surface on the table beside it.  A gnaw in the stomach waits for substance and a wince paints over the delicate and inhumanly pretty features on the face of the man sleeping fitfully, shivering despite the stiff posture. With a jerk, Luhan wakes and sits up sharply, breathing too fast as sheets slide down his body and leave the bare skin to open air. good morning, my love. Eyes squeeze shut as a pained grimace consumes his looks, the final bruising faded and the skin almost entirely closed in healing. you slept with me.  rested together though you did not fully, but do you not feel better? Hands rise to run over his face, heels pressing into his eyes as he breathes evenly through his nose and tries to focus. do not refuse me so, I do not mean to be the enemy you treat me as. The outline of a perfectly proportioned being rests with him, the lingering feeling of it around him, laying to him and holding and fitting with the conforming that can only be the incomplete joining together to form the absolute.  He shivers as the feeling rescinds and he wishes for it not to go. A soft laugh.  I am never gone, it says in a voice he knows best from his own throat that curls around him, warm and tempting.  it is only you who choose to push me away.  I will always be here waiting for you, for I am always, always here. I am here for you. The air is still, quiet and stagnant and he needs to breathe, to find something to clear his mind, from the rubble and the echoes of the shouting from the night before.  The phone remains on the floor from where it had been dropped the night before, the screen cracked through the center and Luhan runs his fingers down the imperfection, the defect before sighing and plugging it to charge. Outside, the morning air is kind, cool before the sun has fully risen and the brisk temperature bites into him, giving him life as he feet pound over the pavement in a rhythmic repetition of a cycle, over and over and over until the progress in his mind is a dull hum over the wastes of dark sand and debris that buries to nothing. Time means nothing aside from the calculation of things passing, the progression of life into a dull and futile hum which draws lines of age into faces and wears down stone and the earth.  Time means nothing amid the pounding of his feet, the burn in his legs and the air cutting into his lungs and whipping his hair from his face.  Time does not measure the distance which his body travels through space and in a familiar route before he returns to his home, skin slick and the air too hot against him, panting and heart pounding from exertion. Time does not measure the feeling in his skin and the stretch in muscle.  Time does not measure the strength in his limbs nor the firmness of his figure nor the attractive curve of his jaw, the toned span of skin down his chest and extending past his navel into the ripples of muscle and tissue.  His hands draw down instead, breathing still harsh from the morning run as he drags his shirt from his body, pulling it over his head to land casually on the floor. Time does not measure the breaths which leave his mouth as water falls like rain, washing him as clean as the rain does the earth, removing all imperfection and filth and leaving his skin tender and silk under sensitive fingertips. time will take away you though, reminds him as he pushes the hair, dripping and clinging to his fingers, from his face and examines himself in the mirror, wiped clean of the fog and displaying him back.  Luhan is young, handsome, vitalic and invincible on all accounts he can understand and see.  in the end, it will take your youth, your strength, even your beauty and finally you. He closes his eyes, letting his head fall and roll to stretch the tense muscles of his neck.  The image before him is whole, the injury from a love broken and betrayed faded to memory as he looks at himself and sees nothing but good.  “I will be fine,” he tells it. there is a way to live forever. He turns and walks from the bathroom. do you want to know it? The phone on his desk is flashing a red message light, an alert that while he was out there was contact, someone, another one, wanting his attention for their own.  His skin is supple and clear as he pulls on garments to tease but never show.  they may look but not all may touch. It reads well past nine in the morning before Luhan hears the sounds of his mother moving in the house and picks up his phone, screen split in a crack and checks the message and the function of the device. SCS 8:12 – Luhan.  I haven’t heard from you all summer and hope you are well.  Term begins again soon.  Can I expect to see you in my office? SCS 8:46 – I really think it would be a good thing if you contacted me when you get back onto campus.  Please have a good remainder of your vacation and tell me if you need anything. don’t talk to her curls in a stronger command against him leaning against him and pushing down to imbed into him.  she can do nothing.  she doesn’t understand that what this is isn't a problem, it is health, it is happiness.  You are happy, with me, as us together. The reflection in the mirror smiles back at him as Luhan looks at it, a soft sorrowful expression on his own face.  “Am I happy like this?” do you love me? Attention turns back to the phone in his hand and he opens a message, fingers fumbling to find the correct keys to write back a response.   To: SCS - I am fine.  I do not need to see you. I am Not Having PROblMems. “Luhan?” calls faintly from downstairs and there is no typical bell, no usual summoning without words for breakfast and it isn’t normal, it isn’t the habit and he winces because all words require a foundation and a stability.  The winds of the world and streaming through the spaces in between wear it all away in the onyx black sand that builds and builds up and up around him. Tthe reflection in the mirror curls fingers against the glass and watches him imploringly. “I’ll be down soon,” Luhan calls back, looking away from the image that would and could capture his attention for days, for years, forever if he let himself. why don’t you? “The most powerful relationship you will ever have is the relationship with yourself.” - Steve Maraboli, Life, the Truth, and Being Free The waking world is cruel, the people and the forces thrown at him, the expectations and the judgment, people blinded by their own envy and hate and tearing him down for his existence and how it compromises theirs.  The other world, where it is safe and he stands in seven different tiers all waiting and never alone but always with love and truth flowing from him and around him, the control and the power and the acceptance that he is omnipotent. He is all things. then break the two together, urges as the warm curl begins to spiral up from within, beginning in his stomach and growing with each inhale.  take down the walls that you see before you and crumble them between your hands.  let yourself be free, let us be free.  together. How many more must hate him, must betray and turn on him before it is enough? do not hurt any longer, pleads along the painted violet and indigo over the cosmos that span high and loud and glorious over the stretch of black sands and winds embrace him in devoted concentration.  I cannot bear to see you in such pain. The phone buzzes again and a new message flashes from the woman whose menace is more than her merit. The smell of breakfast wafts from downstairs and Luhan looks at himself and the physical perfection that he is that looks back and yearns for him with more sincerity than he has ever seen on the face of another lover. Time grips hard and pulls him away, the weak cry from the mirror following him in haunting reminder of the two worlds he is trying to live in and how unfair it is to be asked to conduct his life in such a way. “Did you have nightmares last night?” his mother asks, seated in her usual chair as Luhan picks at breakfast in his appropriate seat to her right side.  A glass of water stands before his plate and he wonders still if his mother replaced the broken shards and destruction from the last visit. “No.” “I heard shouting,” his mother says, pausing in her meal to fix him with a look. “I was on the phone.”  This is not a topic for her to concern herself with.  His life is not a topic for her to complete engross herself with.  Not any longer.  He will no longer tie himself to the constricting refusal of himself that stains down from the very structure of her beside him.  It is high time she accepted that he is his own now and her powers about him are fading to naught. break free of her menace.  she does not own you, she cannot own you, no one can.. “And you were shouting?”  His mother frowns and Luhan doesn't obey, doesn’t do as she wishes and succumbs to her scrutiny. “What else do you do when you are angry with someone for fucking with your life?” he asks, voice even and calm and her eyes widen with a small gasp.  “Wouldn’t that bother you too?” He doesn’t wait for her response, instead turning back to his small plate of eggs and concocted mess that is considered suitable and is hit with a wave of revulsion as he thinks of all the things that he has tolerated up until this point. not anymore. Never again. ◦❀◦ “I cannot press my arms around the form I see, the form that gives me joy.” ◦❀◦ Arms spread to the side, the floor the only cool surface as the focus remains on the passage in and out of lungs that rise and fall in his chest, inflate and compress to supply the essential process to his body which keeps the heart trapped in the cage of bones progressing time and moving forward. Luhan. The late summer sun is high in the sky, beating down on the roof and the windows and the world outside and his eyes are closed, the walls shielding and protecting him from the invasive force as his skin lies open to the climate unprotected, unbothered by the temperature. Luhan. Eyes closed to the ceiling, the room, the house, the world and focus turned inward rather than out, senses dulled and perception veiled as he counts back out of succession and focuses on the space between his eyes. Concentrate, enunciate, manipulate and maintain the constant state of being which you embody and hold yourself to in order to continue, to persevere, the amazing ability of the human body to heal and repair astounding. just like you, Luhan. Through trial and pain and the lowering of his chest as he breathes slow and calculated out of his mouth, the air is hot and moist as it passes his lips. He can feel himself sinking deeper, the sands slowly sliding up from his back, the world, the universe, his mind and it’s endless paramount. In a period of time he no longer has bothered to count he is expected to go back to university, to stretch back to the grounds of academia where he rises above all the others with work that breaks his skull in two and hours that press too deep into his skin and smother him. He will be back at school and the phone in his hand is quiet, the familiar pestering names of others so familiar no longer flashing on the screen, only a few messages from those he must try to use to satisfy those absent. you don't need any of them. you only need me in the end, you only need yourself. am I not enough for you? you know as well as I do that no one can compare to this, to us, you and me forever. His eyes are already closed or he would close them again to block it out, to drop back into the protection behind the shut lids but instead nothing but a small tired grimace passes over his face. Drop back, drop further, breathe into the space between your eyes and watch the black holes spring in solid gravity and compression as they suck in the rest of the ever expanding universe to nothingness. there is no one here to bother us. Exhale and watch the particles of the fabric of reality mix together in small worlds of their own all combining and rushing together and merging into a cataclysm of production. no one to stop us from being together, from preventing you from being with me, no one to stop this, to stop what should be. Luhan, why do you still stand and let the barriers remain. You have only to break it down, the last wall, and let me wrap you in my arms. The light brush and rise of hair over his skin, a sharp inhale as he shivers and his nerves twinge in longing for just that. His eyes remain closed, the world nothing behind them. If he cannot see it, it does not exist. If he does not see it, he cannot remember how badly he wants it. To want something so strongly, so desperately, would be to show how vulnerable he is towards it and how weak it makes him to know he cannot have it. but you can have me. The final step. The final plunge. The glance over the edge to the plummeting chasm of the end and the conclusion where the fall is just as scary as the stop. His body seizes with his heart in his chest. A fall where everything rushes up and the end slams into him too hard and too sudden and he can’t breath. you don't need the others, those who left you, who you are better with out, to make you happy. A year ahead filled with nothing but struggle and biting nails and teeth and bleeding through the hours of the night and watching as it spills out of him to seep into transcripts and pieces of paper holding an honorary mention. Luhan is so tired. then let go. The edges of the shores loom closer and closer as he watches them, the sands spilling off into the vast stretch of the smooth and still water beyond it, reflective of the cosmos above and the calm serenity which lures and beckons to him with heavy gravitational pull. break through it. reach out and take what is yours, what is mine, what is what should be. The surface of the endless stretch of water is like glass, reflective and still. It calls out, pulls in and he falters as he nears it. you look but you never venture to touch. The surface is smooth and clear, perfectly mirroring and unbroken. why don’t you just try? I’ll be there to catch you when you do. The steps along the sand sink deeper and his fingers press into the floor to hold on. just. . . The high screech of an alarm, shattering through the tranquil moment and he jerks, eyes flying open and nearly flying from the floor, the sudden lurch from his body tipping his mind and sending black spots over his vision as shock rushes through him. A sigh over the stretch within in defeat as his eyes, wide and searching, land on the phone with its fractured screen that lights and screeches obscene sounds to him for attention. The name is familiar, one of the few who has yet to rip from him and throw him into black and Luhan closes his eyes, forcing the beat within his chest to calm before he answers. “Hello?” “How could you come home and not call me as soon as you got in?” half whines and half playfully scolds. “You’ve been home for three days and I just found out? What kind of older cousin are you?” “A tired one,” Luhan says, his eyes slipping closed as the sands shift and trickle down his bones and surge with the weight of his ever tipping balance. “And a busy one. I thought you had your own stuff going on.” “But that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t make time to see you,” Zitao says and it’s warm, so much warmer than the last time they spoke and it has a pleasant hum once more trembling through him. The truth and love and affection that Zitao always gave to him, seeing him as he is, the best and holding him in the highest regard. The true paramount of his life and the one who comprehends Luhan. The one who always has. He and Sehun both. The smile grows on his face as he thinks of them both, Zitao laughing and always remembering him, treasuring him and Sehun’s soft shy and adoring smiles and compliments. To love him as he deserves to be loved. careful now. Luhan is no fool and neither are the young men, no longer boys from the last time Luhan saw them. They’ve grown. “What are you up to today?” Luhan asks, pushing himself to stand. He could do with getting out of the house, out of the silence and the crush of the walls and the air, the stillness that spreads in sludge over every surface and stays in sticky reminder of how polluted it is, the smell of lavender covering up the lingering scent of distain. “Dragging you outside,” Zitao says and Luhan shakes his head. He should have known. “It’s the end of summer and Sehun and I both have the day off.” Sehun. “His internship ended and I am off today. It’s too nice out to be cooped up.” “What makes you think I’m inside?” Luhan asks, looking out the window to the glowing sunlit world outside and the blinding brightness. Inside is cool and comforting. “We’ll pick you up in about twenty minutes,” Zitao says rather than answers and Luhan lets his eyes close in admission. ◦❀◦ Sehun, when he genuinely smiles, looks a strange combination of adorable and horrific. His smooth skin stretches and his eyes slit to crescents, lines etching into his cheeks and it’s strange as much as it is endearingly cute. “What are you doing cooped up all day inside?” the younger asks, a darker laugh to his voice as Luhan steps from the house, not bothering to wait for Zitao and Sehun to drag him away from the hospice of his room. “Not everyone has to get outside and mar their skin with sunlight,” Luhan tells him and Zitao scoffs loudly before falling into laughter as Sehun’s face falls. There is more of it today, Sehun and Zitao both in turn laughing and joking far more than Luhan has been used to being around. The sarcastic commentary thrown constantly in a verbal gunfight between Kibum and Heechul is harsh in comparison to the playful bantering of the two younger men as they seem to latch onto Luhan and shine bright by his presence. “It’s weird not having you around during summer,” Zitao says, his arm thrown over Luhan’s shoulders and though it could be considered patronizing, Luhan smiles at the gesture, Sehun on his other side close and seeming to always stumble just a bit closer. Needing to be near to him is something that he had been forced to forget when the crude separation from a love impure shredded his life to tatters and left him dazed and confused. There is no confusion here, no doubt as to the importance of himself. This, here, with his cousin once more in full bloom and pride, standing with head held high and beaming to be with him as the humble admirer who smiles and laughs more today than Luhan has ever heard from him is the truth of Luhan’s world. It is pleasant, refreshing and revitalizing to walk with them, the air from morning running warmed significantly and the later summer days are less cruel that the middays of high summer, the heat fading faster though the sun still grips and warms his skin and rises in waves off the pavement. It’s been too long since Luhan went out with those who truly cared most about him. The day progresses mostly in the fashion which Zitao directs them, suggesting with more and more vigor the next activity and his enthusiasm only increases as Sehun and Luhan pause before answering until Zitao is babbling about the merits and almost begging. A visit to the park, overviewing the green lawns and after insistence of Zitao to feed the flocking ducks and the angelic swans follows by venturing into town and Zitao runs ahead calling Luhan and Sehun slow as he takes photos on his phone for ‘nostalgic purposes’ for the coming year. “I haven’t seen him this obscenely happy for a very long time,” Luhan comments as he and Sehun fall silent, the younger boy finished explaining his summer job and the experiences he gained. Sehun stands too tall in the sunlight, the brilliance of the day catching the dark auburn shades to his hair as he strides with legs long and slim in the summer air. He has grown up well, his body strong and filling out, broad shoulders and a sloping splendid curve to his spin as he watches Luhan with his full attention. Just as he always has. “That’s just him,” Sehun says, smile tugging around each word as his eyes refuse to open fully and the grin seems fixed upon his face. A constant source of happiness, a spout of youth and joy. Luhan finds it calming, reassuring and pleasant to be around, far more than the discussions where Sehun argues his points on love and romance, how the world may be cruel and difficult but the end reality is that it is all, in the end, a view of perspective. Luhan doesn’t have to agree with Sehun’s opinions in order to find him good company and appealing. “He was always a happier kid, honestly,” Luhan says, looking away from Sehun to where Zitao is bent over, showering a random strangers dog with affection and smiling with his whole heart. “It doesn't take much to make him happy, just as it doesn’t take much to get any emotional response from him. Movies and music and sad stories make him cry and getting food of any kind makes him happy. He’s like a dog.” “Hardly a dog,” Sehun laughs and Luhan looks back to him. “He’s just honest, about everything and about himself. He isn’t afraid to feel things, to let himself experience everything with all of himself. It’s admirable.” “It’s exposing.” Show everyone what bothers you and they will use it against you. No one can truly be trusted. except yourself. except me. “There isn’t anything wrong with showing how you feel or what you think about something.” Sehun steps closer, his hand brushing fingers over the back of Luhan’s. An expression of himself, of his drawn to Luhan that he’s seen and witnessed and still wonders the validity of, the truth but now, standing in the heat that should warrant distance rather than closeness, it tugs at him. “There’s nothing wrong with being honest with yourself.” “Are you always honest with me then?” Luhan asks, a tease to his mouth as he looks over at Sehun in the sunlight and prods to the unveiled adoration that is ever-present around the other man. “I’m honest with everyone,” Sehun says, his eyes creasing in humor as he leans closer. “I never lie.” He laughs and the sound is pretty, a lower richer but entirely heartfelt sound. Luhan laughs, feeling younger, brighter, and better beside Sehun, the younger man’s energy and affection towards him settling the disquiet in his chest and putting him at ease. It would be easy, to take the hand brushing occasionally against his own, to take Sehun and pull the glowing affection closer. let’s play though, why not just enjoy yourself. just don’t get carried away. remember who you truly return to. No one owns Luhan but he himself can find himself as king of all others around him when they allow themselves to see his glory. Luhan will wait until he is approached, as he can see in the future, the affection that Zitao feels for the man beside him understandable to a degree and a small part of Luhan feels pity, knowing that it cannot be returned. That Sehun knows, can see, and always has seen in his own manner, the true purpose and entity in his life with whom to express his love. The most radiant and majestic specter of the dawn, the mighty king of all standing tall, impressive and magnificent before the rising rays of the sun. serves him well to understand, to win your favor, your affections and your good will. sehun would be lucky to have you, to earn your affections as he has done thus far. The beaming smile beside him and the low pleasant laughter and Luhan smiles to himself in satisfaction. if you were to just reach out, he would be yours. It is so tempting. “You guys are so slow,” Zitao accosts as he jobs back to them, slipping to walk beside Sehun and standing too close, his sentiments flushing over his face as his smile appears almost breathless. His eyes dance as they flicker between the other two. “This is called ‘strolling’ Taozi,” Sehun says, slipping an arm around his best friend’s shoulder and leaning in as if teaching Zitao a proper lesson in pacing. “We’re not trying to win any races today. It’s too hot to do much more than just wander anyway.” “But I’m hungry,” Zitao points out and Luhan laughs at the childish nature of his cousin. It is all as it should be. in the company of those who understand and value you as you should be. With the merriment and jest that all social life once had and seemed to be so lacking for a period which Luhan would do better to ignore and put into his past. zitao understands, he listened, see how he has grown from his falsehood and how you are free to take if you should so wish? The two before him show the future, the life which he may lead and the love which is rightfully his. I am rightfully yours and you are mine. Luhan belongs to no one aside from himself. relief, my love. Cease the battles and settle into the calm as Sehun’s eyes linger on his for a moment over the table, a gentle smile as Zitao fetches waters and an extra menu for them. “Are you excited to be going to university?” Luhan asks, finally breaching the question which Sehun as of yet has not addressed. A new year of potential phone calls, Sehun looking to him as Zitao did the year previous, growing closer, seeing him for all that he is. A year of expansion. The soft laugh that greets him has a contented smile spreading over his face, lightening the already agreeable mood. “I don’t know if I would have used excited as the operative word,” the soon to be university students says. “More of slightly apprehensive?” A soft nervous chuckles as Sehun leans back in his chair. “It could be a lot worse though. I’m not flying blind this year thankfully.” “You have people to help you,” Luhan agrees with a slow nod. “Like me.” “And Taozi,” Sehun adds and his smile turns soft, his eyes crinkling as he meets Luhan’s eyes over the table. “And Zitao,” Luhan agrees. but most importantly me. “If you need help you can ask either of us.” Sehun laughs, shrugging up his shoulders and the smile on his face is oddly cute, just like how he laughs, his whole face dissolving into lines and wrinkles and it is so disruptively endearing. “I’m lucky that I have such support.” “What support?” Zitao asks, rejoining them and placing a water before Luhan, properly serving the eldest and head of the table before placing the other two. “Who is supporting you? Why are they supporting you? Who would support you anyway?” “Luhan was asking me if you’re going to be nice to me at all while I adjust to being a university student,” Sehun says, a laugh still in his voice as he leans back to accommodate for Zitao in the table booth. “He doesn’t trust you to take care of me as well as he thinks he can.” Affront and disbelief that is half in jest but somewhat sincere flashes over Zitao’s face as he looks across to Luhan and Sehun breaks into silent laughter beside him. “Of course I’ll take good care of him!” Zitao assures with such vehemency that Luhan himself laughs as well, joining in with Sehun and Zitao frowns. “God, you’re both the worst, like horrible twins. You even have the nerve to look alike.” He scoffs, flopping back into the booth beside Sehun and hitting him in the chest despondently. “Why do I love either of you?” The admission has Luhan’s eyes widening, flickering to Sehun and waiting for the dawning, the realization. the answer to one of these questions is obvious. Sehun laughs, leaning forward a bit to look fully at Zitao and nothing but amusement and good radiates from him as he takes in the other. “Because you can’t help it,” he says and it’s exclusive, the intimacy of the look not between he and Luhan but elsewhere, boxing him out. Isolating. The life and substance of his body recedes, crawling back into itself and curling away from this, the sudden stillness that grips him and it is suddenly too cold in the late August weather. There are no breaths in his lungs that he can feel as his heart drops out of his chest in sudden apprehension. Sehun smiles, but the affection and endearment are not at him, and the flush over skin is on Zitao’s as he smiles with nothing but pure white teeth and bliss. no. Invasive, imposing, isolation from the two before who are caught in a moment that he is without. No. It’s not possible. Hands lie under the table but the angle at which positions take suggest joining and it’s wrong, it’s all wrong, and he cannot accept it. This is wrong. “What the hell is going on?” snaps roughly against the amicable atmosphere and has both of his subjects turning to look upon him and his displeasure at their behavior. this isn’t real, this cannot be, They cannot be. “What is going on with you two?” A brow furrows over a face looking far older than it’s time. “What do you mean?” His arm shifts and the blush on Zitao’s face darkens as his concern increases in eyes which fix upon Luhan and the everything screams into hiding. “What’s wrong with us?” “You two. . .” Unacceptable. Sehun doesn’t love Zitao, he doesn’t want him, has never wanted him, will never want him the way that Zitao so pines and pathetically concerns himself with. It isn’t possible because Sehun can see that it is Luhan with whom happiness and completion lies. It is Luhan. Luhan is everything. Luhan is the one he should love, that deserves to be loved. It is his right. He needs to be loved. I love you but it seems to count for nothing. WHO IS HE COMPARED TO ME?! why can’t you just accept that in the end, it is always me that you will be with and only me that you can trust to truly love you where all others are riddled with indecency and disillusionment? Hands held and affection directed else where. Zitao’s face shines in adoration and euphoria as he seems to understand. “I told him.” “Told me what?” Sehun’s face was made for frowning. He should always frown at Zitao and smile upon Luhan this is wrong all is wrong he can’t breathe there is no air there is nothing and it’s wrong. Zitao laughs, a higher pitch and bordering on a giggle and it’s obnoxious and grates over Luhan like knifed wires and hate and his hands seize as he needs to find something, anything to fix this, to stabilize, to contain, maintain, to Stop. breathe the pattern of the world you know and constructed and the space between the ports of vision is hung with cobwebs and filth and the world around is nothing but a false lie. sanctuary lies not here, sanctuary lies no where and the world around is nothing but horror and dislike, the solution on the other side. “I told you that I was in love with you.” Fools admit their weakness, idiots bare themselves for vulnerability and confession does not occur without absolute assurance of return and Luhan cannot allow this. It is wrong, they are incorrect and this must be rectified. Sehun smiles and it isn’t at him. The love in his eyes is not for him and Luhan screams from his soul as his lips remain soundless and shut, the rage and storm pitched to a fever within as he takes in the tragedy before him. “Oh, that,” Sehun says and Zitao makes a face at him before sighing in amusement and exasperation combined. It is too easy, too relaxed and it will not last, it should not be. “Yeah, you did.” His smile is unnatural. “Thanks.” “Are you fucking kidding me?” Both sets of eyes turn to him and widen in shock. Luhan’s breaths are too short in his chest, the system spiking into overdrive as comprehension and reconciliation are too far from his fingertips to grasp. “You two are dating?” Sehun’s eyes are wide in surprise and Luhan cannot believe him. “What’s wrong with that?” “Everything!” bursts from him loudly and quieting the restaurant to silence as heads turn and attention unwanted is attracted and both boys sit before him in stupefaction and disbelief. Wrong wrong wrong wrong all of this is wrong Sehun doesn’t love him Sehun cannot love him Sehun loves you and sees you for whole and wants you and needs you and he is yours and you should have him and he could never love Zitao this is all incorrect. It must be fixed, remindthem. “What?” Zitao’s face has fallen before him. “He can’t love you!” Luhan seethes, leaning over the table and slamming his palms flat. Enforce and splay the details clear for absolute comprehension. Kindness will not help a message be understood it must be drilled. Pound pound pound with the force of fists against skin and pound the routine and the mantra of SUCCESS into the brain and pound with feet to the pavement the necessity for physical outstanding and pound love and property and mar white plain skin with marks of possession as mouths gasp and it is everything “What?” Sehun’s face darkens. “You can’t love him!” The cries of the wind are hollow and reek of sorrow from the buried life that he cannot see and refuses to allow. “How could you love him?” The shocked face of his cousin is nothing to the astonishment on his now boyfriend’s face and the agonized fury that shrieks within a tortured soul. “What is it to you if I love him or not?” Sehun’s voice pitches in emotion, unable to be concealed and contained as Zitao face twists ugly. “You’re not supposed to love him!” See the reality before you, see the truth, see the fate that you have so strayed from. “Who am I supposed to love?” Slashes through the wounds barely healed. THERE IS ONLY ONE. “Me!” Wrenching, drying, crying, wailing, hating and needing and it falls away as the edges of the chasms crumble and the pitch into darkness and the terror of a fall is just as bad as the sudden stop and the end. They are all, in the end, to love Luhan. Luhan. Luhan. please love me I DO LOVE YOU. Zitao’s face falls in shock as Sehun sits stunned and the brief moment of stagnation shatters when a loud laugh bursts from the youngest throat. “What?” “Me,” growls in threat and insistence, Luhan’s fingers dragging into the table, scratching nails over the surface in desperation for purchase. “You love me, you do and you aren’t supposed to be with him.” “I’m-” Sehun looks at Zitao who sits in frozen shock, staring with mouth open at Luhan and the air roars in a rush of destruction. “I’m not in love with you,” he says, turning back to Luhan. Eyes of dark brown and with more emotion than Luhan can stand mark against his will. “I’m not.” “We’re happy,” comes softer and weaker from Zitao as he stares across the table, his face finally shifting from shock to something darker, evil. “We’re happy together. I’m happy with Sehun and he’s-” not yours,fires and rages and hates. he was never yours to take how dare you touch what is beyond your warrant to possess! “You don’t deserve him,” hisses harsh and the slam against the table is a profound disturbance of the build which has begun from the turmoil that stews within. “Stop it.” A handsome face only when it is serious, the smile putting it into disfiguration as Luhan can now see and his lips curl into bared teeth because it is his, rightfully his and his claim has been compromised. “Stop it, now.” Hard and cold and angered directs at him as those brown eyes fill with such passion, such vigor and he wants them. you deserve what you want how DARE they keep it from you. TAKE HIM. “How could you love him over me?” scrapes over his teeth and tongue and bleeds from his mouth as he leans to Sehun, his reality stark and his comparison brilliant. Luhan deserves Sehun, the last final step and the one who always admired, who always followed and looked up with the lingering affection that Luhan could always drag his fingers into with a sigh of relief. “How could you choose him over something like me?” “Because I did,” Sehun snaps and Zitao’s hoarse cough of pained indignation falls on dead uncaring ears. “And you aren’t one to value his worth. No one person can compare another person’s worth to their own. No one.” “Luhan,” dribbles in sadness from Zitao’s form as he watches and sits by the side lines and is a pathetic excuse for a spine for what he has done. he took him, he compromised him, tainted him, Ruined him for you and is nothing but greed. cast him out, refuse and rebuke and remind them how the system goes, where they are below and you are paramount. Rings and echoes and spans over the chasm of sky and cosmos that flash in colors of war. TAKE HIM BACK, LUHAN. “He can’t love you,” snaps with desperation and the final collapse progression. “How could he love you!” Eyes that fix upon his fill with tears but they are not of personal sadness and Luhan body writhes within for the expression he sees there. THERE IS NOTHING THAT IS WEAK AND DESERVING OF SUCH PATRONIZATION The spill and the intensity of feelings that Luhan cannot touch and never wants to pollute himself with. “Luhan, how can you be like this?” the sorrowed words that appeal to the jagged edges and wear down to more black sand and destruction. STOP. “Why are you doing this?” “Because it’s wrong!” IT’S ALL WRONG. Luhan is the best, Luhan is the most, the paradigm of life and the answer to the end and he is everything that someone should want. He cannot be rejected as such and denied in this way and this cannot be. you deserve the best so let yourself have it. “Don’t talk to him like that.” Sehun’s face holds none of the forgiveness and compassion which plays over Zitao’s tear stained features. Neither response is correct and the crippling seizure that races over his limbs beings to drown him out. “Don’t ever talk to him like that.” “It’s wrong,” pleads without intension and his own shell cracks from the inside and a scream of warning flashes. DO NOT LET THEM SEE. DO NOT EXPOSE YOURSELF IN SUCH A WAY THAT THEY CAN RIP FROM YOUR ANYTHING YOU HAVE LEFT. YOU CANNOT EXPOSE ANYTHING TO SUCH GLUTTINOUS EVIL SPECIMENS. CAST THEM OUT, CAST AWAY AND DO NOT DISAPPOINT ALL THAT YOU HAVE DONE FOR YOURSELF. Can I not have something so beautiful? such a wonderful boy who died the day that his world of youth and happiness was brought to ruin from a gunshot and he was laid worthless. Such a wonderful boy, it’s such a shame he is so loveless. Do not all things deserve love? Is it possible to live without something as sweet as love? “The greatest thing in the world is to know how to belong to oneself.”― Michel de Montaigne, The Complete Essays “How can being in love with each other be wrong?” Zitao asks as Sehun’s face turns to angered stone, his eyes flashing and Luhan is nothing but chaos. “How is love ever a bad thing?” can you not just accept that I am the only one who can truly love you? THEY ALL HURT YOU, LUHAN. YOU CANNOT TRUST ANY OF THEM. “Yours is,” spits and Zitao’s face flashes in pain and anger. “Back off!” Sehun yells as Zitao stiffens and the rock of time slams into the clocks and shatters the balance and the stagnation. Break the surface, break the barrier, break down and disengage from the horrors that surround him, encircle and suffocate and rip to consume him. “You have no place to be calling someone else’s love wrong when you don’t even understand what love is yourself.” “Sehun!” yelps as a yell rips from Luhan’s throat without words accompanying. “You know NOTHING of love!” bellows from his own voice and himself, the two thundering as vision swims in the oppressive heat of the late summer and the howling of his heart as it withers within and pleads for justice. “You know nothing about me and what I know and what love is. Nothing!” “Luhan, how can you say such things?” PATRONIZING AND DISGUSTING PITY HOW DARE HE SEE YOU BELOW HIM. “Shut up,” Luhan hisses, wrenching himself to stand and fling away, balance compromised in his haste and Sehun’s eyes are slits as Zitao’s wide and worried, glistening with too much emotion and feelings for rational behavior. they are traitors of you. “Fuck you both,” slurs and the departure is too fast and focused to hear anything but babble from familiar and unfamiliar voices behind him as he flees. “Fuck all of them. Fuck everything, fuck.” you have to understand. The depiction of the two before him, Sehun and Zitao together with hands held and affection passing between them twisting and terrible before him when instead the vision of the better ending, the proper ending, in which Sehun leans to him and whispers the words of affection are all that splinter over the ruined canvas of his internal spheres of comprehension and it’s wrong. It's wrong. you tried, you did what you could but the truth is they’re all unworthy, they’re all in the wrong and you cannot lessen yourself to stoop to their level and settle for them. come to me, the one who truly understands and sees you and knows how significant you are and how necessary you are. come to me my true love and universe. Head pounding and stumbling into sunlight Luhan can’t see, the white against his eyes and the ring in his ears too much, oppressive as he pulls and drags away from the gruesome falsehood behind him and tries to lift his feet from the sands which suck him down. me, Luhan. in the end it is just you and me, and I will never leave or betray you or tell you to leave me, that I do not love you, or that you do not deserve my love. just let yourself love me. Stutter on the tempo of life. GIVE IN. Even with eyes closed, he can see the cruel light of the sun stab into him and cast him in the silks of red and crimson. such a pretty color on you though, let yourself just be that which is so beautiful. “They’re sick,” Luhan gasps as he moves on a path memorized and his phone with a screen cracked and displaying its damages to the eye begins to agitate against him in demanding insistence. “They’re sick and wrong.” and you are mine now. He cannot see the eyes that turn on him as a scream rises from him and drowns everything out. ○❂○ q3-9ye[HIUSG*( YFD{HG8. This IS NOT IEWN HOW I SHTN GIEOM MSU UTOEJ. THIS. .IS NOT,G HOW IT S SUPPOSEDT O BE. IT;’S A LLGK WORNG. THERS IS NO. THING. ONLY TEHRE IS THIS LEFT FOR . . . …. … … . . . ME. DO NOT DENY WHAT YOU KNOW IS THE ONLY ANSWER LEFT. ◦❀◦ don’t answer them The ringing is shrill and loud and the flashes of light of cars and buildings and images moving past him and Luhan focuses on moving, getting, returning. There is always an ending to every day, a final destination and Luhan returns. Back to where they met, back to where they started, back to where it all began. Come back to beginning and remember how it all looks and how he looks and how it is to be and where he belongs. Who he belongs to. The phone is too heavy, too obnoxious in his hand as it vibrates through his bones and fractures them up his arms and spreading like a poison. belong to me. There are ties holding him down. The phone demanding his focus and attention, the letters swimming together to a name which once brought happiness and reassurance and now only brings a grimace. don’t answer him. There is no reason to answer, to talk to him, to give him his time and his energy and his love. He broke it, he rejected it, and he left it all behind him and left Luhan who should never be left. He didn’t care and he moved onto other who were inferior. crawling back and will you really take him back. The vibrating stops and his heart slams against his chest. don’t forget me though DO NOT ALLOW HIM THIS SATISFACTION. The phone flashes and the screen illuminates in the name and the pounding of the hate and grief throbs as his fingers press too hard and his grip shakes as he brings it to answer. “What do you want?! Are you so aware of what you gave up you call me now? Hoping I will take you back? Are you that feeble?” do you still want me? “What the fuck is it?” “Luhan, calm down.” Laced with concern, with surprise and haste. I TOLD YOU NOT TO ANSWER DO NOT LISTEN TO HIS LIES FUCK HIM AND LEAVE HIM TO DIE WITHOUT YOU. YOU WEAK SPINELESS CREATURE TO CONCEDE TO SPEAK WITH HE OF VILE WORTH. Grimace until features hurt and the lingering pain of the last encounter spikes through from the center of his skull out and back into him. “Don’t fucking tell me to calm down,” spit the words as swords and fuck the world for fucking him. “Luhan, where are you?” It doesn't matter HE DOESN’T GIVE A FUCK to anyone DON’T TELL HIM HE CAN’T KNOW where he is or what he does. “Luhan, what is going on with you where are you. You’re scaring people.” “Who are they?” FEAR YOUR WRATH AND YOUR HATE. WE CAN RULE. “Luhan, you’re scaring me.” Minseok’s voice is weak and pathetic and Luhan hates nothing other than weakness in others, purging it from himself out of vengeance and personal goal. he wants you back, there is no other reason for his calling you. he doesn't care, the selfish creature. he simply is greedy and blood sucking dry. DO NOT LET HIM HAVE YOU. “Lies,” seethes from him as Luhan’s grip around his phone tightens. “You don’t give a fuck, you just want me back.” “Luhan, listen to me.” “You regret it!” The shout rings as his vision darkens as the sky laces with the end of the day. “You regret ever leaving me, ever questioning what I was in your life. Do you understand now? Do you see that there you are nothing without me? That I am the best thing for you. I loved you, Minseok. Where no one else could, like no one else could and you were too fool to see that, to understand, and now you want it back. Fuck off.” “Luhan, please!” pleads through the phone. pathetic LEAVE HIM. “Luhan, please listen to me. I need you to tell me where you are.” “Fuck you!” STOP TALKING NOW. “You think I’m letting you crawl back to me? After everything you did?” “You’re scaring me! I want to help you and I’m not the only one.” WHAT IS THERE TO HELP THERE IS NOTHING WRONG WITH YOU. The fire burns over, the surge and the explosion hits in seismic desolation through him as it takes the final blow. “THERE IS NOTHING WRONG WITH ME, MINSEOK. NOTHING. THERE HAS NEVER BEEN ANYTHING WRONG WITH ME. I DON’T NEED YOUR HELP!” The grip nearly cracks the phone as he turns and hurls it away, the screaming voice for him on the other end nothing but corruption into him and acid courses through him as pure hot fire rises him to the pinnacle of himself. you should never have spoken to him. Sickness that spreads from those words, this body already tainted and he needs to be whole. you never needed him. I loved him once. how could you love someone who was so crooked and hateful and disgusting? He did Not deserve your love and you WASTED YOURSELF. I thought. . . YOU WERE WRONG. UNacceptable. do you see the ending now? do you see what has been waiting for you for so long? Do you see the one who truly loves you yet? do you see who you truly love now? The sky is painted crimson, the sky above him in crimson sunlight from the dying day and the cosmic chaos within the collision of stability and his worlds merging into the transcendence they have been on the path for since he began. He understands. ◦❀◦ “Perhaps we shall learn, as we pass through this age, that the 'other self" is more powerful than the physical self we see when we look into a mirror.” – Napoleon Hill ◦❀◦ The house smells of lavender and constricting suffocation and the sounds of Mahler play from the office as the door slams so hard it shakes the walls and the pictures on the wall. The impact is nothing, the shudder of the structure minimal in comparison to that which could level this house to the ground. The final standing place, the sanctuary where most of the space is nothing but strangling propriety but holds pockets of love and space and the highest affection. you have come back to me my love. The glasses tremble as they settle against the wall, the treatment of the house unfamiliar to this kind of behavior as Luhan’s body burns and his mouth remains open to keep the steady vivacity of himself flowing. A slam, a crash and the pounding of feet before a woman who so often is the image of perfection rushes to view, her immaculate countenance anything but as her eyes, wild, land upon her son. Her only son, exactly as she created him and everything she worked so hard for. “Hello, mother,” curls in smoke as Luhan looks upon the woman who brought him into this horrible world. “Luhan,” gasps as she doesn’t not move forward. always distant, always separate, always timid to care as she should have, as you deserve as is your RIGHT as her son. She demanded so much but never gave in return, selfish horrible woman. “What is it, mother?” Luhan asks, stepping into the house and to her. “Am I late? Is it problematic to you when I do not completely conform to the abject standard and system which you set in place with all it’s flaws, the paths and segments created to keep a course that stands rigid and outdated?” Her eyes fill with sentiment that is so foreign upon it. It is ugly, so unlike her usual beauty that has aged with time, her splendor removed and decaying along with herself and her husband buried six feet underground and the bullet which slaughtered him buried in the wall. Pitiful creatures. “Where have you been?” “Out,” Luhan sneers, moving around her to provide his own needs. “I was out. Or am I not allowed out?” “With who?” “Why do you care?” he spits, rounding on her and watching with a sick degree if satisfaction as she stumbles back, her eyes flashing in anger and fear together. see how she can tolerate being made to feel so insignificant and failing. can she take it as much as she shoves it down on you and crushes you beneath her heel? are you going to let her make you feel so worthless any more? “I have a right to know who you are with,” she says and it’s molten iron against his skin. “Because-” “It’s my life!” Luhan yells, leaning to her and with teeth bared and furious. Too long has he endured her overbearing nature, her endless control and superiority lorded over him all for the sake of giving him ‘the right path and direction.’ Fool of a human. “What reason do you have to have any say in my affairs? Who I am with and what I do with my life is of no concern of yours. You who have done nothing but paint this disfigured world around and expect me to live and tolerate you for all your lies and deceit.” “I am your mother!” She shrieks, back rocketing to straight as her eyes flash in defiance but she is weak. High cold and vindictive laughter swarms. she has always been weak. Cast her away. CAST THEM ALL AWAY. you have one place you belong. You belong with me, Luhan. you belong away from all of them, all of this. dispose of that which is inferior to you, all those which get in your way. “A mother who does naught but despise and demean and demand, who doesn’t care, only greedily takes from her son, trying to force where his father, your repulsive excuse for a husband, so grievously failed to be anything but substandard.” Her breathing halts and Luhan is tempted to reach out and stop it forever. Watch the shock on her face as he shows her how much power he truly wields in comparison to what she has lorded over him his whole life. “Where I have done everything and moved so far beyond all expectation that you can no longer see me for your blindness and futility.” “Luhan!” she screams, stepping forward and rearing herself to her full height. pitiful. “What!” he bellows, standing taller, stronger before her. Everything that he is in blatant view. “Or have I somehow disappointed you because I am able to fend for myself and display competency? Do you have so little faith in me that you must sneer and nitpick and break it down and try to shatter my will to live? You have failed and I have managed to still succeed despite the Hell which I have been through.” Her eyes flicker, swimming in emotion that so rarely shows on her face that he cannot read it. don’t bother, she is feeble and insignificant. "Luhan," his mother's voice is scathing, offended and Luhan doesn't give a shit. A small smirk comes over his lips, a sort of satisfaction at hearing his mother's indignancy at his final response to her constant nagging. She lets out a short breath. "Is this because you've been dealing with breaking up with Minseok?" "Don't talk about him," rips from his mouth in a snarl before he can check his thoughts and his mind growls in anger. Flaring at the mention of the one who left him like he was nothing when he is everything. The last conversation ending in a shattering of machinery, ensuring that never again would he be plague by the vermin. leave them all behind, you need none of them. you need only me, only us together, it is the perfect solution. Forsake the terrible and embrace the beautiful. "I never liked him," his mother half whispers, her eyes bright as he looks at her son and Luhan's temper rages, his back rigid with fury. Shaking her head, she steps closer to him, her cheeks flushed with emphasis "You can do so much better tha-" "SHUT UP," he yells, flinging out a hand violently and almost slamming into her if not for her stumbling back, tripping over her own feet pathetically.. "Shut up! You don't know anything! You never knew him! You never knew what we were. Never talk about him again." His throat burns as his fists clench and he bares down on his mother and hates. “Stop it!” screams from her lesser form, looking up at him, always up not, he higher and stronger and nothing can stop him, nothing prevents him, her power broken. “Luhan, stop this now. You are being irrational. Control yourself.” WHAT DOES SHE KNOW ABOUT CONTROL? thunders as the structures shake and the firmament is not compromised but made to be reconstructed. Evolution is the destruction of one phase and point in life to make way for the progression into something better. Something whole. us. “I am in control!” Luhan yells back, arms extending to the side to hold up his world, in a gesture of himself, his life, himself, and the look that flashes over her face is not one of deprecation. It is awe, and fear, and revelation. “Is that not what you always wanted?” With a roar, he moves and her scream shatters along the walls that bear witness to the final step as Luhan ascends to his rightful place as supreme. ◦❀◦ ”Grief saps my strength, the sands of life are run, and in my early youth am I cut off; but death is not my bane – it ends my woe. – I would not death for this that is my love , as two united in a single soul would die as one.” ◦❀◦ The reflective surface of still water is all that can be the natural remedy and satisfaction for a world which lies in two realms, one whole and perfect and the opposite of the chaos in the other. The cosmos above hating and horrid, broken to the point of apocalypse and the shake of the firmament of life within is met with the cooling calm through the reflection, the smooth calm surface offering serenity and calm where it is absent on the primary side. you are ready. Ripped fabrics and garments litter the space from the portal to this residence, lingering up steps and over a floor that lies with crimson stains and which flow from marks littering up arms and over a chest open to the air. Brutal lesions against skin once pristine but which paint in various hues and patterns naturally created from the steady and exhilarated beating of the organ within him. Glistening down the walls, shining from every surface, the steady drop from the faucets, the gentle pools and still waters wash over everything. From the shower which lies half broken, hands prints of vermilion and the splintered panes of glass, adding to the masterpiece which decorates himself. The slow ragged breaths are the heat, the reminder and with skin prickling in sensitivity, eyes shot with blood and glistening gaze into their match opposite. A smile curves over his lips, shaking and desperate as the whole image before him, skin unmarred and unsullied is laid bare to his eyes and eyes lacking fatigue fill instead with warmth and the deepest affection. my love, you have finally come to me. “Yes,” just barely brushes past lips cracked and parched. Stinging over his skin where water and the cruel air seeps into the open fissures in his own skin, leaking his pulchritude to splatter to the floor. He coughs, the sound dry and feeble and all he wants, he needs, he yearns for, is to rest. Hands pure and clean rise, his own eyes lingering to them as he watches and mimics them, his own with dark red caked under the nails and with gruesome rivulets and gouges taken from them. then come to me, pleads with a choke and a repressed sob of relief. I am here, I always have been, and I, unlike any one else, love you. you may have all of me, everything, forever. This cruel world that you have endured can end, this painful pursuit of love from those who you can never trust, who will only cause you pain, will end. His hands shake before the one he truly loves in the mirror, eyes which have always sought and begged to find, a heart crying out and rarely heard when he needed it most, finally finding salvation. “Let me rest,” he pleads, knowing that this time, regardless of his words, his visage, his depiction, it is understood that though his tone may be weak, it is not because he is. There are no secrets here, only open honesty and he understands just as well as he is understood. you may always rest with me. Eyes of his own shine in tears, not of remorse, but happiness and relief, arms stretched out to hold him, to have him, to embrace and never let go but hold until his last breath. this way, when you are with me, there will never be a time you need to fear to be alone, in any portion of your life. I will never put you in places too high to find solace, in areas where you fear being forgotten, for I will never forget you. I cannot, for I love you too much to do so. His form trembles, shaking with the words and promises given to him and Luhan’s heart aches with the pain of an entire life of suffering to be with that love, the love which he sees and hears and so deeply needs. He knows what it is, has seen it and known it his whole life, and it is the answer. you deserve the best, you are the best, and this is what you have been seeking. “I know.” He has always know, the fight seeming so futile now as he reaches out to lay damp and shaking fingers to glass, the final barrier and breathes into fall through and for the final barrier to give way. All is calm, all is quiet around him save for the breathing that slips from his lips. The walls had stopped their whispering, the photos on the wall shredded to cease their judgment, and the life in the house absent and abandoned. There is nothing to interrupt them this time, nothing to stop this true love from finding it’s manifest. come, Luhan. let us be forever together and let us move from this existence where we are separate to a place where we can be together, completely as two to one, united. I am always here for you, always, for I can and will never leave you as long as you are here. When you pass into the next world, when death reaches you, you shall never be alone. I will be with you. I am always with you. The aching in his throat, burning, cripping and the horrific wheezing gasps as the surface beneath his fingers refuses to yield, to give to him and his need to pass through, to find happiness, to find his love. “I can’t,” sobs tragic and harsh from him as his fingers curl to fists. One final step, one final phase and forever the struggle ends, his aching heart put to rest and his tortured soul laid given respite from the abuse inflicted. To be loved, to find love, to receive that which he has so yearned for for longer than he can ever bare to think of. Luhan, my love. Curled fists as his composure falters and his grief displays over him, back bending under the weight as he pushes, forces and yet the barrier does not give in to him. Gasping rather than breathing, his self no longer able to sustain when he is so distraught. “I’m trying.” Harder, push harder and harder and sink through the barrier like he has before, wanting so desperately to intertwine like he has seen before in dreams and in reflections where it is two and not one. Always on the other side, he must get to the other side. Luhan, my dear you are almost there I am waiting I have always been waiting. please come to me, please let us be in love. A shake as the barrier does not give. are you not tired of waiting too? Shining eyes and an anguished face as it paws for him, hands pressed flat and forcing to him as well, yearning just as strong. I need, I pine, I shall perish if there is more delay. The final step and he cannot cross it. “I can’t!” Then Break It Down. A strangled yell as the pounding of flesh to glass and shaking the reflection warps and unbalances and brings forth the final catalyst of his fate. Rising in pitch as his muscles and the tears over his skin protest in suffering, a scream rings around the tiled room, the tainted red sloshing at his feet as his balance commits and with an almighty crash, it all shatters to fragmented splinters. All of it, broken and cracked and scattered into pieces as new impaled fractures imbed into his hands, his eyes wide and heart shuddering as he looks upon the vanished lover and the destruction laid before him. “NO!” wails in lament as the final salvation is denied and his comfort is terminated. The mirror and himself and his love, the beautiful vision of his perfection and his lover, the only one who could truly love him and he could truly love, taken from him by the cruel twist of fate. “No! Please, no,” broken and miserable crawls from his aching throat, the tension and horror imbedded there clawing to be set free as the new impalements ooze in a new coloring of the tapestry he has spattered around him. my love, gasps into him new life and hope as his spine twists and snaps, legs nearly giving out as the system begins to shut down, vision fading to the mix of blurring black sands and darkness and the start contrasting walls of the room he has barricaded himself to for final sanction. my love, mourn not for I promised I will never leave you and neither shall I. I am here, I will not go. The whisper over him has his eyes slipping closed in relief. you know what you must to. Half deadened eyes open to the floor, the fragments of the mirror previously before him all reflections of himself under the water which covers the floor and with trembling hands, he rises one to himself. see? Tears streak down that gorgeous face, tears that he has never cried but which he has wanted to, need to for so long but never found safety to do so. With love, there is no judgment for weeping. I have not forsaken you. we can still be together. with one final step, we can be as we should have always been. break the barrier. “I did,” he whispers. you know which barrier I speak of, softens around him, warmth and compassion and love sinking into him and pulling him forward, his fingertips running along the sharp jagged edge of the mirror shard in his hands as his lover and himself watches from the other side, waiting to connect with him completely. the final step where we merge worlds, drawing your beautiful crimson with my diamonds and shining for all eternity. His hands shake, the end so near. please, Luhan, let yourself be free. The hideous tightness in his throat, needing to be lessened, to be cut free so he can breathe, clogging all his emotions and life there and keeping it from liberation. I am here with you, presses to his heart and Luhan’s eyes close as his fingers rise and draw over the walls which pound and trap him in this horrific state. The screams gargle and fade as the world swims in black and red and white, spiraling down and he curls into himself, the disconnect too strong and violently convulsing before arms pull and wrap around skin too sensitive to touch. Crying out, he fights but cool and comforting lips press to his heated skin and still the intensity, a shivering linger the result as soft gentile hands that are the most perfect he knows travel unseen through the blackness. Luhan’s eyes open, looking into the bright vision of the one he loves, perfect smile upon perfect lips and tears that he finds spilling down his own face the first time he can let them without fear. My love relievedly weeps as devoted and loving hands wrap to him and pull him in, accepting for everything and all and the cool slip of his own relieved tears sets him at peace. and thus you may rest ◦❀◦ “I never loved another person the way I loved myself.”― Mae West ◦❀◦ “Have you thought about it?” He looks up, blinking at the question and feeling slightly dazed.  “Thought about what?” “What you’re afraid of.”  A pen stills on the paper, waiting patiently as his mind slips in and out of focus, the tiny tendrils of thought bleeding and twining together in a dance that he can’t follow. “Dying.” “Dying?” repeats back, a small hint of surprise on the lilting voice. “Yes,” he replies, mind on the dark red that seeps into the white plush carpet as eyes turn to glass, forlorn and empty, never to see again.  “Dying alone.  I never want to die alone.” “Do you fear being alone?” Blink, too slow and the world tilts on it’s axis, the floor spinning up to the side as the balance of gravity is overthrown.  “I’m never alone,” he speaks and two voices sound as his eyes fall closed, the mist lingering just at the peripherals of his mind descending and drawing him into blackness. ◦❀◦ “As in the flame the yellow way, or as the hoar-frost melts in the early morning, ‘neath the genial sun; so did he pine away, by love consumed, and slowly wasted by a hidden flame.” ◦❀◦ Fin ◦❀◦ AN: I very truly hope that uponinfinity likes this. I apologize because I will admit this is actually the short version and I am so sorry for rushing this >< Sincerest thanks to my amazing support team (F, E, I, L, A, *you know who you are*) for amazing hand holding support.  Thanks to K and K for writing encouragement and drive and everyone on twitter for listening to me slowly degrade in sanity. Special thanks to A for tolerating and patting on the head. The old quotes are taken from Ovid’s ‘Metamorphoses’ about the story of Narcissus and Echo. The segment on ‘I am here for you’ is in reference from the ‘Teachings on Love’ by Thich Nhat Hahn. mod note: if you have reached the end and would like to comment on this fic, please do so over at the livejournal post. thank you!