Title; A Nameless Story.
Pairing; Jongin & Kyungsoo
Genre; Angst, Choices and Consequences
Length;
Soundtrack; Kim Sunggyu - 41 days
Summary; Jongin had fat no one else could see, and
Kyungsoo cooked a wicked Kimchi Spaghetti.
Notes;
Kimchi - A spicy pickled cabbage, the national dish of korea
that is used in many foods.
//Inspired by "Nabi Sonyeon -Butterfly Boy" by EXO-K//
****
Nothing but the plink of lonely rain met Kyungsoo's ears as his feet dragged heavily through the rain. His sneakers hung heavy with water and his clumping eyelashes clung to the pale skin of his cheeks. Kyungsoo had always had thick lips, and now the pouty items were tinted a deep blue, the tremouring cold hitting to his bones. Kyungsoo hated the rain. He hated the cold, and he hated the wet. Not to mention he was hydrophobic. But it all didn't matter, not as he feet trudged to a soulless rhythm. Kyungsoo didn't care because he deserved it. Especially after what he had done to Jongin. He'd met the boy on a day so similar to this, it was raining once more, except it was springtime then and instead of the crunch of soggy autumn leaves at Kyungsoo's feet...there was flowers at Jongin's. Just begining to open with the first rays of sunlight, the petals had slapped closed that day, hiding from the rain that Jongin thrived in.
His form was lean, his face uneasily chizzeled and his movements as elegant as the gracing dance of a butterfly. He didn't walk down the path; he flew. Everything he did was graceful, from the way his teeth chattered to how his fingers trailed along the window of Kyungsoo's cafe. He'd lingered there for awhile, staring at the cupcakes as if they held the answers to the universe. Because for Jongin...they did. How could something so beautiful, be so taintingly evil? Little pockets of flour and sugar, laced with Kyungsoo's finest icing, there were cakes of every spectrum. But they didn't entice Jongin, they didn't add that special sparkle in his eye like everyone else who viewed them. He was digusted.
"If you want to get that solo, Jongin. You're going to need to drop a few pounds; no one wants to see a whale dance."
Fat. Obsese. That's what everyone thought Jongin was. Andslowly, as the insults had crept on him, he had believed them too. He saw fat, he saw the fat everyone else did. Bulking at his thighs, at his hips and arms. Swallowing over his form and muting the grace of his ballet. He saw it, and it disgusted him. He was going to get rid of it. Cupcakes like Kyungsoo's were evil. You couldn't fall for their temptation, not if you wanted to be beautiful. Not if you wanted to be perfect. Cake was a privledge Jongin didn't allow himself anymore, and hesitantly he turned his eyes away from the window, the fingers that once rested spread over the glass crunching into a needy fist. He took a stepback, and once again endoused himself in the rain.
Kyungsoo had seen him that day, seen the trembling thin form hover outside his window and watching how the other shook and his hands reached up for the rain he felt obligied to pull his door open. Thick finger's grasped and hesitantly Kyungsoo peered out into the pitter patter, his sweater wrapped around him tightly. "Yah! You're gonna catch a chill!" mother goose instincts in full throtle, Kyungsoo's eye brows furrowed. "The fire's lit? And you're welcome to a cupcake...do you wanna come in?"
On a general basis, Kyungsoo didn't give his cupcakes out for free, they were his pride and joy! As well as the main thing that kept his buisness afloat. He couldn't afford to just hand them out. But there was something about this boy, something that made him offer...
Perhaps it was the way the rain made his form huddle and shake, despite the fact he seemed to be enjoying himself. Or maybe it was the way his skin clung so tight to his bones that everything jutted out at sharp angles.... But it soon all fluttered off anyways and Jongin twisted his feet and turned.
"Inside? Why would I want to go in there~" a drunken smile somehow etched it's way acrosss Jongin's features and soonafter he was pirouetting again, incoherent giggle spewing from his stretched lips. "Why when I can dance out here in the rain?" It was a rhetorical question, Jongin expected no answer from it. Especially from a doe-eyes stranger that was just trying to be kind. But fighting off a slight smile, Kyungsoo mustered one; his body swaing to lean against the door frame. "If you get sick, you won't be able to dance..." Jongin scoffed. "like the sniffles would stop me." Kyungsoo laughed.
"At least let me make you a drink? Something warm? So you can dance a little longer."
"I can't"
"Why not? It's on the house"
"I'm on a diet"
"Oh".
That explained a lot. Almost too much, and automatically Kyungsoo's senses began to shut down, shielding him from any onslaught of emotion that was to befall him after this...confession. He assumed the worst and silently Kyungsoo slipped back into his cafe, leaving his door hanging open and the tiles to be claimed by the rain. Jongin didn't notice his absence as he was already busy leaping down the sidewalk. Kyungsoo was merely getting a jacket and as quickly as he dissappeared his figure was refound and letting out a squeak as he darted out into the rain. The smaller boy had nothing on his mind as he approached the other, just a strong motherly urge and the distaste he always felt towardsthe rain.
He was as quick as possible, wanting to escape inside again once he had dealt with the younger boy. He stood on his toes and gently through the jacket over Jongin's taller, bone ridden shoulders. "This should keep you somewhat warm" he had mumbled, tucking the apparel into place on the other before scampering back inside and shutting the door shly.
Kyungsoo could remember that day as clear as he could see the rain pouring from the sky. Luminous, glowing through the occasional sunbeams. Kyungsoo could still picture the leaping step of his butterfly as he danced down the street. The brunette however was in such a state of longing for the other, that timidly he held out his arms and skin brushing the rain he began to step; twirling as he'd seen the other do so many times. But all too soon he wasn't turning, he was tumbling. Slipping with a thud to the pooling cement and he sighed, merely curling up ther in the cold.
He couldn't fly like Jongin.
It had been a few days passsing, but Kyungsoo could also remember the next few times he met Jongin, He'd mannaged to convince him to come in one time, setting him up in the corner with a hot chocolate he hadn't drunk. But he had gotten most of the infor he knew about the other that day, His name was Jongin, and he was a ballet dancer. Kyungsoo was a year and two days older and somehow heavier, despite the fact that the other had over ten centimeters on him in height. The last fact didn't make sense to him and however, and Kyungsoo claimed it as his new job to make sure the other was fed. It was harder than it seem. On their average weekly meeting, Kyungsoo was luck if he could get three moutfulls of Jongin's favourite food down him.
He was lucky that he could get that down him honesly, espeically since it was his strange fusion dish, a mixture of an italian spaghetti and korean kimchi powder. But Jonginliked it, and if he was going to eat a little, it didn't fuss Kyungsoo. He would have made anything for the other.
It was keeping Jongin alive. Little did Kyungsoo know that the few mouthfulls he fed Jongin was all that the other kept down all week, without it he would have passed away due to starvation months ago. But it was the one thing that Jongin couldn't find the gut to throw back up. Not when Kyungsoo went to such an effort to make it, to buy the supplies out of his already crippled budget. Surely he keep a few fattening moufulls for the other.... and he did.
But it only worried Kyungsoo more as the other still continued to grow thinner and now as he folded himself down into the armchair he ressembled a stick insect more than ever. Oversized, once tanned lumbed now cracking, pasty and empty. He looked so sick, that one day Kyungsoo broke down into tears, collapsing to his knees as tried to explain to his best friend exactly what he saw....why he needed to look after himself more. But it had only triggered Jongin, sent him fleeting out the room to the entourage of dress rehearsals he had been previously avoiding. Kyungsoo should have run after him, he knew he should have but...it was raining again and he was angry and selfish, instead clinging to the ticked that had fallen from Jongin's billowing pocket. He saved his apology for later. Jongin's ballet was tongight, and Kyungsoo knew this ticket had originally been meant for him.
Jongin was a brilliant dancer, despite how sickly he looked. He ws absolutely flawless; like a clockwork ballerina. Only magic. Magic to make him feel. Kyungsoo had been subjected to an overexcited snippet when Jongin had got the main part, and also having watched the other dance in the rain so many times Kyungsoo was sure he had the right to say Jongin was perfect and he didn't know why the the other couldn't see it.
Night came. and the performance echoed on the rise of acurtain. Kyungsoo had prime seats, and sat eagerly await for the music to play and his friend to appear in all his make upped glory to fly across the stage. Just like the butterfly he always had been.
But when the first notes sang out through the acoustics and the dances all began to move through what seemed like an enchanted forest, Kyungsoo was already out of his seat and pushing through the crowd, bargin until he was free of the annoyed whispers and out into the fluroescently lit hallway. His feet slammed in a run because something, something was wrong....That wasn't Jongin out there.
Kyungsoo ran with everything he had slipperly soles sliding along lino until he mannaged to sneak backstage. His voice called for Jongin and he didn't stop until he flew past a practice room, a familiar tuft of hair calling him back. He'd found Jongin.....but no answers.
Why was the other in here, dancing the same movements as that of which onstage, instead of being physically out there? Kyungsoo was so terribly confused and he was about to setp in and say so, when Jongin beat him tothe drama.
The butterfluy toppled, wilting from the sky like an old petal until he collapsed with a too quiet thud, trembling on the floor to the sound of Kyungsoo's screams
"Am I pretty now?" he screeched, words choking out between insane cackles. "Am I ing thin enough for you. Slashed wrists, protruding ribs...no one wants to look at me anymore than they did before..."
Jongin was shaking. His voice was fading and as he grew so wek and nutritionless that he was on the verge of death, Kyungsoo cried every tear inside of him. His butterfly was dying, all because he hadn't done enough to stop it.
"K-Kyungsoo... Am I-I pretty now? A-Am I p-pretty now...K-Kyungsoo...." a final expel of breath left Jongin limp and Kyungsoo screamed to his dying whimper, alerting everyone in the area.
Jongin was dead.
They took him away, unlatched him from Kyungsoo's desperate fingers and the older of the pair never saw him again. He wasn't invited to a funeral...if there even was one. And he was left alone once again, without the beautifully tainting soul of his butterfly.
And now he was in the same position, except wet and in a pile of leaves on the sidewalk. Laying here wasn't doing Kyungsoo any good, he could feel it as his eyes started to drift tearily closed.
Maybe when he opened them agian, he'd be with Jongin.
Maybe he could smash their lips together, because that ad always been something he wanted to try.
Maybe they could fly away on the drift of Jongin's butterfly wings. Or maybe Kyungsoo could learn how to try.
Because Jongin was a butterfly.
And Kyungsoo missed him.
Him and them together.
In an endless, nameless story.
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