Immortal | Chanbaek [on hiatus]

06: Confusion

Baekhyun insists on believing that he has actually gotten intimate with someone who is 9 years younger than himself. But his alcohol-tolerance managed to creep doubts into his mind, fear filling his entire system. — Still there he is, his mind crowded with a thousand unanswered questions while his butt touches the silk of the soft bed sheets he is sitting on. His notebook is clenched in his tender fingers, his eyes glued on its display.

Somehow, he can't stop thinking about the taller. — The crown of grey hair hovering on his head and those black, piercing eyes meeting his own orbs and staring right into the smaller's colorless soul.

The boy, he's just so captivating. Baekhyun has never experienced something like this.

A sigh leaves his lips as the pen in his hand dances on the site of his notebook.

He was looking at me with those black eyes, which reminded me of the night, ripping my soul from my body before pulling me into a world my eyes have never witnessed before.

And again, just by this sentence, he is caught. Caught in the thought of the taller. In his voice, his features and the whole atmosphere soaking him whenever he is in the near of Chanyeol. But he knows, he knows it's wrong.

Of course, he could lie at himself, refusing the fact that he's attracted to the taller, but lying would not change anything. No, unfortunately it wouldn't change a single thing about all of this. All he needs is distance, distance to order his thoughts and clarify his feelings.

—  feelings which are more delusional than real. Ones which only developed because of his admiration for the boy's actual personality and his whole being.

Chanyeol, is just so unique. Someone who Baekhyun has always wanted to be like. Tall, good-looking, intelligent and the most important part mysterious.

He is wrapped in an aura Baekhyun has never seen nor felt before, and somehow he doesn't seem to let go of the trance he has been for hours now.

— The trance he can't seem to escape.

His hand find its way through the thickness of his hair, brown strands tickling the smooth skin of his gentle fingers as his eyes are glued on the notebook in front of him.

And suddenly, as he's caught in his thoughts, his brother's face pops up before his very eyes. He left without him yesterday? On his birthday? He clenches the pen in his hands as his eyes roam around the room, looking out for the coat he has worn yesterday. My phone has to be in the pocket.

Slowly, with an ache creeping through his body, he stands up, swinging his naked feet through the laminate towards the beige coat. I bet he's pissed. He isn't drunk anymore but he's still experience a very terrible hangover which causes his mind to explode whenever he stands on his feet. Just grab the phone and sit down again.

He slips a hand through the pocket of his coat but to his dismiss there's no sign of a phone. Shit. Did I left it at his place? The palm of his hand messages his throbbing forehead as his eyes roam around his small apartment. Where could it be?

And then, as he's still busy with his thoughts, a ring echoes in his eardrums. The strange thing is just, it's not the ringtone of his phone, no, it's not his. He furrows his eyebrows, following the ringing to the pocket of the jeans he has worn before fishing the raven device out of it.

Kim Jongin is calling

Whose phone is this? And who the hell is Kim Jongin? He stares the display for a moment of silence before accepting the call with a deep breath and a fast beating heart.