Park Chanyeol: Living

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The scent of food cooking on the stove hits you the moment you step inside and close the front door behind you. There's a loud bang of something being dropped on the floor and you lean against the door with a sigh. A small but significant smile stretching your lips. He really can't do anything without something being dropped or broken. Countless things in your home have been replaced over the years due to Chanyeol's clumsiness. Good thing for him that he at least has the salary to pay for it. You shrug off your coat after gathering yourself for a few seconds and place it on one of the clothing hooks strategically placed on the wall. With heavy feet, you drag yourself into the kitchen. An instant ease settling into your tired body as you take in the broad frame of your lover's shoulders and back. You shuffle closer until you're close enough to place your arms around his waist. By the way his whole body jerks, it's evident that he's startled by the action. Chanyeol clutches his free hand over his chest. A deep laugh rumbles through his chest and he leans into your embrace, hand coming down to clutch yours.

"Home already?" He asks and turns in your embrace, strong arms resting over your shoulders.

"Mm, was sent home early since I'm not really in the right headspace today."

Chanyeol looks at you with eyebrows pulled together in concern, likely contemplating what the right words for the situation are. Eyes searching yours.

"Your boss is very kind," are the words he decide on, not wanting to push too much.

You're not sure you agree. Having rather fought through the day and get your work done, instead of having it all pile up for another day of more work than necessary. Although, this might just have to be a worry for another day. You nod either way and reach up for a kiss. His lips as inviting as ever.

"I hate to break up our little moment here but I have to check on the food," he says and a goofy smile takes place on his features as he continues, "can't serve my girlfriend burnt dinner."

The doofus even has the audacity to wink at you. You wonder how whipped one has to be to giggle the way you do despite how he wiggles his eyebrows in the greasiest way. Shaking your head, you fill a glass of water and you chug the liquid down quickly to refill it once again.

Chanyeol seems to be done by the stove and lowers the heat before the two of you sit down to eat.

"Come here."

The order carrying through the kitchen makes you perk up, a surprised 'huh?' leaving your lips.

"Get over here, you're stiff as a rod so let me massage you for a bit," he elaborates and well, who are you to decline free massage when your boyfriend volunteers?

Standing in behind you, he discards your cardigan and leaves you in a thinner t-shirt before getting started on kneading the kinks in your shoulders out. His firm movements do wonders on the knots cramping your muscles together painfully and Chanyeol, the good masseur he is, makes sure to do his job thoroughly. Groans fill the otherwise quiet kitchen when he stays at a particularly bad area, almost making you squirm away, but he keeps you steady in your place in front of him. Inhaling a series of deep breaths seem to do the trick when you feel the tension let up a little and the massaging goes back to being pleasurable.

"So, are you going to tell me what's on your mind, baby?"

You knew this question was coming.

"I'm fine." Your attempt at reassurance doesn't sway his level of concern and he halts his ministrations but keeps quiet, his silence telling you he's not buying it. It's incredibly, really, how well he knows you.

With shaky breath and tears brimming your eyes, you let him in.

"I feel burnt out," you start out, struggling to find the right words. "Or like my boat is leaking and the moment I plug one hole, another appears and it exhausts me to no end. Work is fine, it's not that, but I still can't seem to shake this feeling of something bad about to happen. I think it might be stress but I don't know what is causing me to stress out. Am I making sense?"

He turns you around to face him, his thumbs coming up to brush stray tears away from the corners of your eyes. Your chest is heaving, restricted by the tightness of the internal battle of keeping yourself from crying.

"Sounds like your anxiety is running rampant again," Chanyeol summarizes, earning a nod in answer. "It concerns me that you don't let me in on these worries."

A deep crease takes place between your brows and you can't seem to hold his gaze. Guilty as charged.

"I don't want you to think that I don't trust you, because I do, but how am I supposed to look after you and my family if I can't even take care of myself."

The dam breaks. Shoot.

Tears are now falling freely but you feel secure the moment Chanyeol pulls you into his chest, big hands cradling your head as he lets you cry out weeks of frustration and anxiety bottled up and packed away neatly. What you do without this man, you're not sure. He is the steady rock ready to weather through the unpredictable storms which shake the usually stable fences you've built over the years. Testing whatever coping mechanism you've worked up. He's the first one to tell you it's okay to break down and the last to let you fall without being there to help you back on your feet.

"It's okay. I know you want to be strong but sometimes being strong is letting someone else help you carry the burden with you." Chanyeol kisses the top of your head, another wave of calm falls like a blanket over you and the sobs stop coming.

He's right. You know he is. There is not a single bone or cell in your body that wants to live without him.

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