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Chanyeøl collapsed through the door, quickly shutting it before toppling on the floor.
“Fuck!” He yelled, pain blooming at the impact. His movements were lethargic and clumsy. He eventually mustered the courage to crawl. All he had to do was reach the other side of the room. However, the pain made it unbearable, like every inch he moved, the room dragged back another two.
The sunset coloured the room a dim amber. Rusty pipelines snaked across the ceiling, weaving in and out of the other. Whatever this building was meant for had been abandoned long ago. The remnants seemed to only exist out of spite.
When Chanyeøl finally reached the corner, he shrouded himself in the shadows. Now all he could focus on was the throbbing anguish. He groaned, his teeth grinding aggressively as the room contorted through pain-ridden delirium.
Moments ago, he was thriving: effortlessly tearing through EXO’s leader, Junmyeon. He’d just managed to catch him off guard and he had the red-haired man under his unrelenting control. Fire tore through the air. When Junmyeon tried to erupt a tidal wave, he was hit by a billowing force, splashing scalding water on him. He was fucked and Chanyeøl couldn’t be having more fun.
Suddenly, Chanyeøl was clobbered by the sharp, solid force. He skidded across the floor. When he peered up, he caught a glimpse of two people before colliding with another large boulder. He could tell by the prominent height difference, followed by the taller man’s slim, sharp features that it was Sehun, accompanied by Kyungsoo.
They were relentless. Kyungsoo commanded clumps of earth from the ground while Sehun conjured them into a tornado, flinging them towards Chanyeøl with unabating strength. It was only when Sehun stumbled and sent the boulders flying elsewhere that Chanyeøl managed to dash away, scattering his path to lose the duo.
And now here he was, twitching and cursing under his breath; it was only a matter of time before he either bled out or an EXO found him and put him out of his sodding misery. Blood trickled down his face, mixing with beads of sweat. However, before he could wither away into sleep, a figure burst through the door, panicked and panting as he slammed it shut. His back pressed against the door, chest rising and falling erratically. Chanyeøl stopped cold, tunnelling his vision on the figure, trying to work out if they were friend or foe. Yet, no matter how hard he focussed, he drew a blank; There wasn't a single feature he could recognise.
The stranger scrambled for anything to block the door, but the room was barren. His panicked urgency morphed into horror when his gaze locked onto Chanyeøl. He inhaled sharply, whimpering as Chanyeøl glared back, frozen blue eyes glowing in the dim light. Chanyeøl cursed; The fear surging through the stranger was a telltale sign that he wasn’t with Red Force.
Shit.
Chanyeøl scoffed in defeat, head falling back against the cold wall.
“Just get it over with,” he croaked, allowing his body to go limp, arms falling to his sides to welcome the cold embrace of Death himself. If there was one thing he could find relief in, was that EXO kill with mercy; they didn’t feel the need for torture, they just wanted to snuff their target out and move on.
Words struggled on the man’s mouth, maintaining the same wide-eyed, unblinking eye contact.
“Wh-what…” his voice disappeared.
“Kill me!” Chanyeøl rasped, his tone commanding. As if he were the one to give orders.
An oppressive silence fell between them. The man remained, unmoving with resistance. Anger billowed in Chanyeøl’s stomach, causing a throbbing headache and he’d just about had enough. Why couldn’t this man just end him?
“I SAID FUCKING KILL ME!” Chanyeøl snapped, conjuring a flame in his palm, launching it near the stranger in one last fit of rage. The stranger yelped, cowering out of firing range while Chanyeøl let out an agonising groan from the effort. His vocal cords rattled, worn by the agony and he just wanted it to be over.
The man stepped cautiously forward. He was shaking profusely. That was when he walked into a small glimmer of sunset leaking through the cracked walls, and Chanyeøl beheld the stranger in all his glory.
He couldn’t have been much older than him. His skin was slightly tanned, face framed with dark, coffee brown hair and peachy lips forming into a natural pout. His eyes were sleepy and downturned, radiating a natural kindness and reassurance that everything was okay. Chanyeøl gulped, Adam’s apple bobbing hard.
Pretty.
He was a part of EXO, yet Chanyeøl couldn’t recall someone like him ever being a part of Red Force. Chanyeøl was curious of what this man was capable of, yet somewhat dreading it; a face that lovely was bound to be harbouring something fucked up. At least he could find solace in dying at this man’s hands.
He studied Chanyeøl, from his battered face to his torn clothes, stained with blood. Chanyeøl grumbled. The waiting was slowly killing him, figuratively and literally.
Chanyeøl shut his eyes, awaiting sweet release as the man knelt before him. I’m okay with this, he thought. But instead of being met with an abyss, he felt something cold grasping at his hand. Chanyeøl jolted, reopening his eyes to see a pair of dainty hands, one rolling up the sleeve of his turtleneck, the other circling their thumb around the back of his palm. Rolling the sleeve revealed a cacophony of bruises and tears, interconnecting and leading under the sleeve to the rest of his body.
“Good lord,” the stranger cried, gawking in wonder as to how Chanyeøl could’ve survived this long.
Without a moment's hesitation, the man traced his fingers against the wounds. He was concentrated, dancing the tips along the lacerated flesh. A small, lilac glow omitted from the wounds, following the man’s touch. It weaved through his gashes, grazes and weeping sores. That alone was enough to startle Chanyeøl, but when the wounds began to comtory, fusing back together, he freaked out.
“What the fuck are you doing?!” He hissed, yanking his arm away. The stranger flinched.
“You’re hurt,” he said. “I’m just trying to help you.” Chanyeøl took note of his soft voice.
“How the hell are you helping-“ Chanyeøl stopped as he looked at his arm. Aside from the splatters of drying blood and dirt, his flesh was clear, ridden of any injury he’d endured, not a single scar in sight. He rotated his arm, noting how the pain of moving it had disappeared. He looked back at the stranger, bewildered; It was rare for anything to render him speechless.
This man was a healer.
Wonderment soon passed, overwritten with confusion. An EXO just tended to his injuries. This man wasn’t stupid; he could see in his eyes that he knew who… what he was. Yet here he was, touching him… willingly... If it was anyone else, they’d find no trouble turning him to dust. Even a Red Force would settle on killing him, even denying it until Chanyeøl begged for it himself.
“Why are you doing this?”
“You’re hurt,” he repeated. That’s not what he meant.
“But I’m… you know what I am, right?”
The man halted, sighing sadly.
“Just let me do this… please.”
Chanyeøl obliged, heart stinging at the man’s weary, crushed expression and let him work his magic.
Being healed was a strange sensation. Flayed skin that’d normally scar over time was wiped clean. Bruises that were sure to discolour his body for days evaporated at the touch of his delicate fingers. Chanyeøl’s skin tingled. So soft and gentle, the exact opposite of what he was used to. When the stranger was finished with Chanyeøl, it was like the wounds were never there.
Suddenly, the man edged closer to him.
“Almost finished,” he assured, settling his hands onto Chanyeøl’s cheeks. Chanyeøl’s heart pounded treacherously as he admired the man in front of him. Fresh cake and roses crossed his mind as his scent filled his lungs. Chanyeøl soon became conscious of his breathing, hoping that the stranger couldn’t tell how heavy it was, a combination of nerves and trying to catch more of his scent. Nobody had gotten this close to him without the intention of harm and he wasn’t handling it well. He didn’t even notice his swollen black eyes sinking away.
His instincts screamed at him to run, to get away from this new feeling of being doted on. Something this good could never end well. But Chanyeøl was stun locked in pure euphoria, and the way this man’s eyes glowed golden like honey as light poured into them only drew him in more.
“Good as new,” the man announced proudly, admiring his work, like the act of healing was his idea of perfected art. Chanyeøl hummed, more focussed on the man’s plush, doll-like lips. The way they curved into a warm, welcoming smile with a dimple formed on his cheeks soon after. Oh god, he had dimples!
Silence fell between them. But instead of impatience and rage, it was with wonder and curiosity. There were many questions Chanyeøl wanted to ask, so much about the man that had just spared his life that he needed to know. But his voice clogged in his throat. When the stranger caught sight of Chanyeøl’s gaze, his cheeks blossomed.
“What’s your name?” Chanyeøl blurted. It sounded smoother in his head. The words sputtered, one tumbling over the other into a babble.
The man cleared his throat, fidgeting soft waves of brown away from his face to conceal the blushing.
“Yixing.”
“Yixing… wow…” Chanyeøl mumbled stupidly. Sweet name; it suited him. Yixing averted his gaze to the floor, giggling fondly.
A voice called Yixing’s name in the distance, laced with urgency and hysteria. Chanyeøl huffed, while Yixing froze. Turmoil stirred in his gut.
“Go,” Chanyeøl urged “I’m fine.”
Yixing was about to rise, when an idea hit him. He gathered the dirt latching onto Chanyeøl and sprinkled it into a pile. He placed his hand on the new patch of dirt, circling his palm around it as the same glow shone through. When the glow diffused, he lifted his hand to reveal a small, pearly orchid between his fingers, tucking the stem into Chanyeøl’s breast-pocket.
As Yixing reached the door. Chanyeøl called out to him one last time.
“Will I see you again?”
Yixing smiled.
“I hope so,” and with that, he disappeared.
❀ ❀ ❀
Chanyeøl was discovered by his team, returning to their ship with haste. As they prepared for takeoff, they were already discussing the next plan of action, something about Chën using Suhø’s water as a conductor for electricity. He didn’t care. The conversation came in waves to Chanyeøl, falling in and out of focus.
Yixing…
“Chanyeøl-ah! You listening?”
Chanyeøl spun to face Suhø, eyes widened into an authoritative glare, eroding through him.
“… sure… yeah I was listening.” he’d always been a bad liar.
“Ahhh give him a break,” Kāi said, leaning back in his chair. “The guy almost died today.”
“Yeah, we all did, dipshit!” Baëkhyun spat. Ready to argue, as per usual. Suhø swiftly shut them down, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration and urging Chanyeøl to just focus before continuing.
Yixing…
Chanyeøl wandered back into his sleeping station, eyes blurred at the ceiling. He plucked the tiny orchid from his pocket, twiddling it gently to not weaken it. When he closed his eyes, he could still feel the goosebumps flurrying on his skin as Yixing touched it.
Yixing…
When he closed his eyes, he could still feel his heart beating in his throat as Yixing’s rosy lips sat inches away from his.
Yixing…
When he closed his eyes, he could still feel the sense of emptiness as Yixing left. There one minute, gone the next.
Yixing…
When he closed his eyes he could still see Yixing…
Yixing…
Yixing…
Yixing…