Immortal | Chanbaek [on hiatus]

01: Inspiration

Attached song for this chapter:
Kodaline - All I Want

Slim fingers glide their way through the piece of paper slowpaced, thoughts flooding his already crowded mind. Due to the fact that he didn't want to spend his esteemed time with people's needless conversations and the smell of of oily food and sweat lingering on the dark driven streets of Seoul, he has been staying in his apartment for weeks now, only going out to buy necessary groceries. During this time he has spent on working on his new novel, writing his fingers blue and purple from morning till night.

And even though he is exhausted, he doesn't mind. Writing has always been the only thing on the planet, which fills him with chill and a sort of freedom he isn't able to feel when he's stuck in reality. — Freedom of all the bullshit that's going on around him.

The ballpoint pen in his hand lands on wooden table as he stretches out his hand to take the navy blue coffee cup, he had received from his brother on Christmas last year, carefully leading it to his lips before nipping on the hot coffee a tiny bit. It glides down his throat slowly, leaving behind a tint of heat in his throat. He sighs, placing the cub back on his desk before massaging his forehead with his slim fingers while his eyes drift their way from his white, plain walls to the characterless IKEA clock pinned on the wall. 11 pm. It would have probably been the best to go to bed now, but unfortunately he tends to make poor decisions. And this time is certain not an exception.

His fingers clench around his pen again, leading it to the notebook on his desk as he writes down another word with an immense sigh. Baekhyun would never admit it aloud, but he's stuck, stuck at 46 words on which he has been sitting for a timespan of an hour now. He squints his eyes, staring at the paper in front of him. Baekhyun clearly lacks of inspiration lately. An inspiration. ----- That's exactly what he's in need of right now.

Something, or someone around which he could resolve around the main character of the novel he's currently working on. Just how could he find such an inspiration?

A heavy sigh leaves his lips, his head lingering kissing the desk with a loud thud. What is he even doing with his life? He's already in his thirties and is still writing fictional stories about people who are so much younger than him. Maybe it's time to grow out of those kind of stories and start to write more mature ones. Maybe it really is, but he just loves all those cliche portrayed in books, where people fall in love at first sight and seem to evolve feelings for their significant other.

Something which only exits in books. Love. Baekhyun has always been a realist, only believing the things he has been able to see with his own eyes and make out with his own mind, and love has certainly never counted into these certain things. It is a biological feeling — a progress which is caused by hormones to make us feel euphoric, but that's all it is. Hormones.

The word 'love' is fictional, something which belongs to art, not to a feeling. People just made it to the thing it is now and got way too attached to this certain, delusional word. It's pulling them into an invisible illusion, making them want to find the love of their life. Love of their life?  Just a heap of nonsense to Baekhyun's ears. 

He supports his head with his hand, his eyes still fixated on the notebook. Maybe he should really get some fresh air and try to distract himself a little bit. He wets his lip, taking another deep sip out of the already freezing coffee, screeching his face in disgust. I have no inspiration anyway.

The sound of the clock's ticking is ghosting in his ears as he stands up from his desk, heading from the tiny living-room to the hall, where he grabs his hazel-brown coat and throws it on his shoulders before adjusting the round glasses on his nose. I'm coming hell.