comma happy (chansuk) wrote,
comma happy

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floral leaf / chapter one

pairing: chanyeol/kris
rating: nc-17 (for sex, drugs and language. also mentions of bulimia, suicide and other toxins.)
summary: chanyeol wishes of breaking free but he feels dreams of some sorts are too unrealistic. kris is a cloud that happens to bump in to chanyeol and things sort of go out of hand.
a/n: I find beauty in reality and if you look close enough, true emotion lies there. Nothing is better than realistic love.

chapter one

Chanyeol’s parents were very traditional people. He has had troubles throughout his whole life because of their wishes. He tries not to mind though. He listens, nods and obeys as much as he can. Everything he has done in his life has been for them. Forget being that star brighter than all the others, Chanyeol is content with being the small white dwarf in the distance. He is still there and still noticeable to the naked eye and he prefers it is better that way for himself and his family.

He grows up in personality, height and appearance. Chanyeol also goes through the stages of rebellion and thinking for himself. Apologies are exchanged and he becomes a wallflower.

He wishes on occasion that he had a friend to talk to.


Through hard work and longs nights he find himself at one of the top universities in the country. He has an easier chance getting in than others considering his exam scores were one of the highest they’ve ever seen over the past few years. They tell him he is brilliantly smart but he just gives a small smile and replies, "I just have a lot of time".

And that’s just it. He has more than time; Chanyeol has forever. He’s living in a world where time is nothing and staying awake twenty hours of the day is about as normal as dying when you’re eighty. If Chanyeol was smart he would have escaped long ago and into the arms of poverty and lower class or at least have committed suicide. He knows his father would disapprove so he pushes the thought away, folds the corners neatly and buries it under silence and logic.

The classes are long, a few hours but he manages to stay awake. He’ll occasionally slip a pill in his mouth and swallow, drink some of his water and take more notes. His body has grown accustomed to four hours of sleep, sometimes less. Nobody talks to him, no one even dares. He knows they talk about him because they’ll give him looks but Chanyeol just doesn’t care. He only cares for two opinions in his life: his father and his mother. Nobody else matters.

They’re stars light-years away.

Chanyeol finds peace eating lunch on the roof. He’s alone and it is quiet and he can work in peace. There are no disruptions and he finds watching the people below look like ants. Small specks in a society where being bigger and brighter are the perfect size. It doesn't matter if you meet standards, it only matters about what you know and what you don’t. He sighs and finishes his orange juice, pulling out his phone to call his parents.

He has to call them every day after lunch.

13:20pm on the dot.

Chanyeol has never missed a call.

Chanyeol doesn't have troubles not noticing the stares anymore. His eyes flew past them like butterflies over a rushing river. He knew if he looked then he would crash into the water and be carried away with the absolute chance of death. The lunch line was particularly busy than other days but he considered it was mostly because it was raining outside. He picked out his usual which was an apple, rice, soup and some bread. He must have turned at the wrong moment because all he feels is a stinging burn against his chest and a clatter of utensils falling over the wooden floor. His eyes are closed and he’s debating with himself on whether or not he should open them. It’s silent; he knows that people must be watching but he tries to ignore it as much as possible.

“Oh, shit. I’m so sorry, man.”

Chanyeol flinches at the curse word. He breathes and finds himself eye to eye with a slim face. It wasn’t really in Chanyeol’s nature to say anything except ‘yes’ or ‘I understand’ and if you were sorry then you had to have meant it. This man in front of him was just staring at him with no hint of emotion whatsoever. It was almost as if Chanyeol was looking at himself.

So he turned around with a swift step, forgetting everything that happened. He threw everything on his tray away and went to the bathroom to apply cold, wet napkins to his burned chest. Chanyeol was slightly hoping someone cared enough to say something.

“Did you finish your homework?” His father asked during dinner.


“That’s good. Make sure to revise it and check if you made mistakes.”

“Yes, father.” Chanyeol chewed slowly; even his diet was on check. He wasn’t even fond of vegetables but he tolerated them enough to eat them everyday. Sometimes he would find himself trying to silently hurl into the toilet some nights. For the others, well, he managed to make it through. He tells himself it’s the food but in the small, back corner of his mind it is telling him that it’s his life.

“There are no mistakes made in the Park family.”

“I understand.”

Chanyeol managed to finish enough work that he had a free day off. He didn’t tell his father because he wanted to be able to breathe for a quick moment. He was having troubles keeping up with his heartbeat earlier on. He found if he listened closely or when he was on the verge of sleep then he could hear it, slowly pumping blood throughout his body so he would live to survive another day. He scrapes other thoughts from his mind. Usually he can’t hear it and he starts to believe he is a robot programmed to its owner. The only way he’ll be able to get the remote back is if death decides to come make a visit.

His free day off wasn’t much considering he woke up earlier before his classes and walked around for a bit. His stomach would growl and he knew he shouldn’t but he did anyways. It was bliss. So much better than eating apples and carrots.

Chanyeol chews the sweet bread fast, sitting on a bench by the park and watching people walk by. He has to drink some water to swallow but he feels full and content, even if it’ll last for a little bit. He gives smiling a try but it drops because of the awkwardness.

His classes start in an hour.

He hops up from his spot and makes his way back to the school, feeling this sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach. He shouldn’t have but he did. He pretends to sew his mouth shut.

It doesn’t last long, honestly. He finds himself clutching a white rim and heaving. When he’s done he fumbles for the handle, closing his eyes. It does feel somewhat good to be empty again.

The bathroom door opens and Chanyeol freezes, trying to slow his breathing. The footsteps travel to the near end of the stalls and stops a few feet before his. Chanyeol feels claws scratching at his throat, begging to be let out. The footsteps fade away but they don’t leave and it’s leaving Chanyeol feeling a little breathless and eager to die. If anyone found this out then Chanyeol would die. He would be considered damaged goods in the sense that not everyone is perfect. Chanyeol’s trying so hard to be.

He pulls toilet paper from the container and wipes his nose and mouth, pushing himself up off the ground. With shaky hands he fixes any crinkles in his clothing and adjusts his cardigan.

He opens the stall and tries to avoid the eyes that jump and watch him walk to the counter. With a couple drops of soap and some warm water he physically washes away the evidence and metaphorically washes the deed from his head. He feels like Macbeth.

The figure was perched upon the counter, smoke wafting throughout the bathroom. “I didn’t think anyone was in here,” he said.

Chanyeol scrubs at his hands for the second time, watching them grow red.

“Oh yeah. You were the guy I ran in to in the cafeteria a few days ago; accidentally spilled soup all over your chest. I’m really sorry about that man.” He takes a drag.

Chanyeol shuts the water off and his fingers brush over the bruised skin. He moves on to his face.

The man continues watching Chanyeol proceed with his ministrations. “Wouldn’t matter anyways, right?” He lightly chuckles, burning the cigarette out in the sink. “When they said you didn’t talk much I thought they were joking.”

It’s quiet for a bit. Chanyeol enjoys the silence for the small bit he has. He manages to rid of the smell and the feeling, possibly the memory. It was punishment, he thinks, for him going out and trying to do something of disorder.

“I’m new here. Wu Fan’s my name but you can call me Kris. Cigarette?” Kris holds out his hand, offering a small white tube of destruction to the thin male.

“I don’t smoke,” Chanyeol says. It’s barely a whisper.

“Oh, so the man does talk? What else can you say?” Kris mocks him with a smile. Chanyeol looks up after drying off his hands and face and gives him a look of disgust. “Can you say ‘Polly want a cracker’?”

Chanyeol grabs his bag and rushes out of the small bathroom. He can hear Kris calling after him but he quickens his pace and prays he’s not even a second late.

He sees Kris again before he leaves for home. He’s sitting on a bench, arm wrapped around a thin, pretty girl and he’s speaking Chinese. She’s blushing and toying with him, pulling her skirt down farther. Chanyeol pulls out his phone and tells his father he’ll be home in a bit.

Chanyeol has grown accustomed to controlling time.

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(chapter two)

a/n: it starts out kind of slow, I'm sorry about that but I'm super excited /o/~*
Tags: pairing: krisyeol, series: floral leaf
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