Warnings: barely there character death (?) and vulgarities
A/N written for aideshou’s 11th challenge and writing this 3 days before the extended deadline, supposedly a two shot but shortened for word limit purposes. May be redone after challenge is over.
Maybe the gods were playing around with him. Toying around with his thoughts washing away all traces of sanity that’s replaced a dull white blank hole in his brain where all his synapses and neurons used to function in because there’s no way how the fuck can a bottle of greyish water wash up right next to the remains of ashes of what used to be Oh Sehun.
Luhan thinks it might be a sick joke played by fate who wanted him to suffer a slow painful agonizing death by mental retardation and that no, a bottle of liquid won’t help him now dear god.
He doesn’t blame his brain for malfunctioning though. It was only 7 days ago that he met Oh Sehun at the railway station dusted in grey and gray. The walls almost seem to be part of the boy’s natural background as if he was born right out of the smudged cracked walls and that his lean muscled figure clad in another grey graphic hoodie did nothing to make Luhan wonder does this boy have nowhere to go.
It may be an illusion of the mind when after 168 hours Oh Sehun disappears into oblivion and Luhan feels a tug in his chest directing him towards an old abandoned warehouse that seemed to glow with eeriness. He hasn’t even been to this part of town before and he didn’t know and still doesn’t know why he has this nagging feeling in his chest as if he’d forgotten to remember something he was supposed to do. The string in his heart tugged him onto his feet once more and he stumbled into the rusty surface of the warehouse door. The scent of blood was overwhelming when he walked into the abyss of darkness or maybe he can’t tell whether the rust of the door was sticking onto his clothes.
Surprisingly seeing Oh Sehun lying down in a middle of a puddle of blood didn’t surprise him at all. In fact Luhan was almost expecting to see a pale body in the same grey hoodie that was now drenched in dark red substance. It was as if he’s done this a lot of times before and would never get tired of discovering dead body everyday millennia or so.
Or maybe its just Luhan who’s probably being paranoid about explaining how he ended up finding a dead body in an abandoned warehouse in the middle of nowhere and he’s pretty sure that the headquarters wont except the usual I don’t know ohmygod I just walked in and I saw a body lying lifelessly on the floor really I’m innocent please don’t take me to jail I have ahead of me I’ll call my lawyer.
But after 10 minutes of debating with himself Luhan just takes out a lighter and burns Oh Sehun’s body right there on the bloody floor covered with Oh Sehun’s now gone DNA nucleotides and red blood cells mixed with dust and if Luhan squints harder it could be youth oozing out of the sticky stuff but he doesn’t want to think about it right now when a there’s a fire lighting up in a warehouse that doesn’t have a chimney or any sort of air vent. Luhan also doesn’t think about how the heck can Oh Sehun even get himself killed in the middle of nowhere with no trace of the culprit and no it doesn’t seem like he would stab himself without a knife and bleed all over the greyish floors.
But now he has deal with the glass bottle staring up mockingly in his face. The pellucid filmy mineral shaped into a perfect mound of an orifice with its contents being the grey liquid that looks painfully similar some kind of chalky lime water they serve at run down bohemian bars behind alley ways that Luhan use to pass by. Those things never fail to make someone half tipsy or maybe some half fucked men would choose to overdose it and loose themselves in made up pride and bliss in a swirly haze of alcohol.
The size 20 Times New Roman DRINK ME printed delicately on a small parchment of paper cut into a perfect size where you can either stuff the paper somewhere between two pages of a romance novel and look cute or string it along a rope over a glass bottle filled with strange substances.
Again unsurprisingly Luhan doesn’t think twice about how the bottle ended up next to him even though he swore it wasn’t there went he arrived. Maybe it could be a sick joke by the younger who thought it would be funny to play dead with chicken blood and a bottle of saliva with a person he just met exactly a week ago with no connections nothing and yet feels so close to.
Luhan could practically feel the cold tugging upwards in his ribcage pulling out whatever remains of his soul as he stared hard and long at the cold floor dusted with Oh Sehun’s burnt remains as he dipped his head back as far as his neck would let him and unscrewed the cork from its lid and tilted the bottle towards his mouth.
His mouth felt cold when the strange liquid hits the back of his throat like a rusted knife slicing through his vocal nodules. Luhan doesn’t fight the coldness of the air around him as the warmth flickering inside of him spreads out through the rest of his body and he blacks out as soon as he faintly sees a pair of eyes staring back at him and a mouth forming into a perfect oval and closing again as if forming a word. Or maybe, Luhan thinks, he’s getting delusional and that he’s never met Oh Sehun, never came to discover his death and never drank the liquid.
Today Seoul is a mix of grey and black musky with the scent of light rain and the rusty smell of wet grass along the gravel pavements. The sky is alight with sheen of mist covering the overhead clouds. Luhan likes to think that the brightly lit chain stores offer the warmth that the weather lacked thereof but really the stores only can bring you the coldness of the air conditioning and fake smiles the staff give you when really what they want is to go back to their bubble of warmth at home.
Luhan also likes to think he has a home. After 21 years and it still hurts, even after Sehun is long gone and there’s no way he could find him in a crowd of streetwalkers but he could still feel every single emotion the younger is feeling. The cold dread of the afterlife and the chill of the polluted air wafting into his nose, all of them, what Sehun feels Luhan thinks he feels it too.
They say follow your heart but one part of Luhan’s heart is busy pumping out oxygen into his bloodstream while the other screams for him to fuck everything and return back to his life playing the occasional football match with Minseok and go drinking with Yixing. The other two just continue tugging the invisible red string between Sehun and him down the busy streets of Seoul. Like a compass he feels that he’s part of the metal arrow spinning and spinning looking for the right direction to go while Sehun is the North Pole attracting him to wherever he is right now.
Luhan ends up in front of an old dance studio with broken shards of glass everywhere and maybe he thinks the red string is probably all in his head after all and there’s no Oh Sehun waiting after all these years until a glimpse of a faded converse becomes visible through his peripheral vision. Luhan looks to the side and is greeted with the sight of the same pale skin young man wearing grey earplugs with a matching hoodie covering his white-blond hair. The said person looks up.
“Hi. I’m Oh Sehun. I don’t know who are you but I’ve been waiting”