a/n; this happens after taeyeon's car accident.
Byun Baekhyun can't sleep.
The device he'd been clutching onto is now tossed to the cold expanse of the white sheets that smell of clean, fresh laundry. Eyes wander to trace the tiny cracks in the ceiling, the intricate design of the glass lightbulbs, the unfamiliar hotel room that is so, so quiet, and then back to the lights until the glare is too much for him—
God, god— what is he doing here, hours away from the person he needs to know — to see with his own eyes — if she is alright or not?
She hasn't replied, and probably never will. Baekhyun isn't even sure if he still has the right contact number; knowing her, she probably changed it countless times to avoid being tracked down by extreme fans. The only ones who are updated with her current contact are probably the ones who are closest to her. Her family, her members, the ones she cares about...
Not him. No, definitely not him.
But right at this moment, Baekhyun realizes he can't care less. He barely trusts articles, and that statement released by the company is the equivalent of saying nothing. They'd cover their tracks up well. They'd do it at the expense of their own artistes, without batting a single eyelash.
"... Baekhyun?"
The male idol jolts up, legs tangled within the warm blanket. He sits there for a moment, bleary-eyed, wondering if he had actually managed to fall into the clutches of a fleeting dream. It sounded so, so real, just like the voice he remembers.
With slow, unhurried movements, Baekhyun runs a hand through his ash-grey hair, shoulders hunched and chest tight with breaths he keeps forgetting to exhale.
"I just need to hear your voice," His whisper loud in the empty room. "Just once."
//
He sees her, from his peripheral view.
Led by one of the many ushers, Taeyeon is headed straight for the round table at the far end. Her movements are too fast for him to catch, but he registers her donned in a black lace dress that reaches just above her kneecaps, see-through sleeves ending at her wrists. She has bangs today. Smiling a little more today. Looks a little tired, but much better than he had expected.
The moment her name is announced, Baekhyun's eyes rake over her form, his pounding heart soothed when he sees no visible injuries. The award show has been tiring thus far, but the sight of her eyes curved in crescent moon shapes has the corners of his lips lifting as well.
For the first time in a while, Baekhyun breaks into a genuine smile.
//
Head kept low, the 26 year old slips his way through the gaps he can find in the crowds, the slight headache that has been nagging at him since morning now a full-blown one. Someone tell him why their waiting room is so damn far again?
His steps are sluggish and his physical state is nowhere better. Muscles scream at him to take a rest, but he knows he can't. He'd pulled through the past few award shows; he can pull through this one, too. At least there's only the ending stage left now.
A faint, familiar laughter behind him.
Baekhyun freezes, fingers still lingering at his throbbing temples. He turns and takes a glance at the nameplate outside the door he just walked past.
Kim Taeyeon.
He doesn't even realise that he's already inching towards the ajar door, gaze trained on the ground. A pair of boots, similar to his own, comes into view.
Jongdae is staring at him, eyes careful and searching. He feels as if his soul is laid bare, but there's nothing to hide from his best friend, anyway. Not when they can see through each other in the matter of seconds.
A hand rests atop his right shoulder, massaging his tense muscles. "I'll let you know when we have to go." Jongdae says softly.
A stiff nod and Baekhyun is already stepping inside. Aside from a few stylists and Taeyeon, the room is bare. At the sight of the EXO member, there are a few gasps of surprise but it doesn't take them long to grasp hold of the situation and file out of the room.
The door closes gently behind them.
"... Hey."
Her voice is quiet.
Baekhyun takes a moment to answer. "Are you alright?"
He tried not to sound like an overly attached (ex) boyfriend, but anyone can hear the heavily laced concern in his question. He thinks she does, too, when her shoulders tense.
"Yeah." She's still not meeting his gaze. "I'm fine."
Another blanket of silence falls before Taeyeon speaks up again. "Are you here just to ask that?"
Is he? Perhaps; seeing how he has nothing else to say. But deep inside, he knows what compelled him to walk past the threshold of her waiting room. He had seen, with his own eyes, how healthy she was when she had received her award on stage. Yet, he knows he won't rest well unless he holds her in his arms again, feel her warmth radiate, her heart thumping against his.
That girl is a heavily painted facade when she wants to be; he can't possibly know what's in her mind, not until they are mere centimetres away.
His silence is an answer for her.
"If there's nothing else... I'm going to the washroom."
Taeyeon barely makes it past him when he reaches out, hand encircling her arm and tugging her back. It's easy on Baekhyun's part, seeing how she is caught off guard, but the struggle comes when she's fully conscious of the situation.
"Stop-" The female vocalist mutters, placing her palm against Baekhyun's chest and trying her utmost best to push him away, even though she's aware that he's much more stronger than her. "Stop this. Go away, I don't-"
"Just," Baekhyun silences her, strained voice on the verge of desperation as he holds her in place, an arm around her waist to keep her from slipping out of his grasp. "A moment. I just need a moment. Please. I need to know that you're alright. That you're truly fine. I can't... I can't sleep at night."
Maybe it's a sense of pity. It must be, Baekhyun thinks, as she stops struggling.
The moment she relaxes in his hold, he lowers his head, buries his nose in the crook of her neck and inhales deeply. She is warm, her heart is thudding painfully fast against his chest, she is alright. There's still her familiar shea butter scent wafting to him. God, she is alive and well.
And the relief is so strong, so overwhelming, that Baekhyun feels the unshed tears piling on his waterline. He doesn't let them fall, but it's a different matter altogether for the person he's holding.
There's no sound; no soft sobs or loud cries. Just telltale hot droplets of salty water he feels seeping through the thin fabric of his black cotton tee. The ever so slight tightening of her fingers around his waist.
Baekhyun doesn't say anything. He knows she wouldn't want him to. So he stays silent just like that, hand running down her back in soothing motions.
How scared she must have been.
A soft knock comes at the door and Jongdae peeks in. He points at his watch, motions a '5', before he closes the door again.
Baekhyun straightens and Taeyeon feels the slightest pressure against her hairline, his lips whispering against her bare skin.
"Please. Please take care of yourself. I don't think I can handle another heartache."
And then he's gone.
