Chanbaek One Shots

What's going on?

Here's a little authors note before I start writing this angsty shit.

This is going to take place in 2017 when Baekhyun was really, really thin. Damn. It still makes me sad to think about. But I'm also going to warn there might be somethings that suggest he has an eating disorder. I'm not saying Baekhyun has one in real life. 

This is just a story after all.

-Nicole

Also this is Chanyeol's point if view :p
——————————————

I rub my temples and I walk into my bedroom. The smell of all those chemicals they used to bleach my hair gave me headache. They still have to dye it pink or something tomorrow.

'This comeback is going to fucking kill my hair.'

I laid down on my bed with my new, basically white, hair. I pulled out my phone and decided to text one of my members.

My eyes landed on Baekhyun's contact. I smiled at the thought of my boyfriend and decided to text him. He was still at the hair salon place.

To: Baekie💕
How's it going babe?

I sat my phone down, not expecting a response for at least a couple of minutes. So, I was surprised when it pinged a few seconds later.

From: Baekie💕
It's going bad. I feel sick. I want to come home.

I raised an eyebrow. He was fine when I left.

To: Baekie💕
Do you want me to come back and get you? Just tell me and I will.

From: Baekie💕
No babe, you have a headache. I don't want to make you leave the dorm again.

I shook my head at his text and stood up. I texted him again before I left.

To: Baekie💕
I'm on my way.

My phone pinged again, but I didn't look at it. I got in my car and drove the five miles back to the salon.

I pulled up and could see Baekhyun in the giant window. His thin frame was pressed against the wall. He looked extremely pale.

I slammed my car into park, and jumped out of my car. I walked as quickly as my lanky legs would allow me, and made it to the door within seconds.

I somewhat aggressively opened the door and made eye contact with Baekhyun. His face lit up slightly.

I walked over to him and grabbed his waist gently,

"Ready to go?"

He nodded. He looked awful. I pressed my forearm against his head. No fever.

'I wonder what's making him feel sick then'

He peeled himself off the wall and stumbled a little. I steadied him and he thanked me.

I pulled him close to my side and we left. I could still smell the strong smell of black hair dye coming from his hair. It didn't help my headache any. But I didn't really care that much.

Once we exited the building, I had to let go of him. We walked to my and I opened the passenger side door for him, and he hopped in. I shut his door gently, then walked over to the drivers side. I jumped in and started the ignition.