Lies of December | BinWoo [one shot]

Lies Of December

"Will the archangels still be spitting lies in December, even it's the perfect season for purity?"

Eunwoo thought out loud after letting his eyes frolick every phrases in the 281st page of his all-time favorite winter novel, extracting its idea and visualizations. The chilling sensation crawled above his flesh, as he witness how the main character named Jerry showered himself, savoring up how the skies vomited pale snows.

"What do you think about that, Jerry? Will they still lie?" With his curious tone, Eunwoo questioned the another guy who poised himself up with a white shirt and jeans.

"Who are you calling Jerry? I am Moonbin, dummy."

"But aren't you named Jerry too?"

Moonbin blinked as if Eunwoo spitted bullets of realisation to impale the confusion winning between them. He executed no move, but he scratches his nape out, hoping that he'll scrape away the embarrassment whilst showing off his warm smile.

Eunwoo was taken aback after he saw how Moonbin's eyes slit into an illuminating crescent due to the smile that made him fly back to 2008 when he first met him.

Eleven-year-old Eunwoo was very fond of the fantasies covered by those flakey books. And as he wander around a library, he knew that this attachment has gone intense when he descried a fellow kid pulling him with the might of his arms. He got a pair of jet black lovely eyes, his pupil flashing glints with the purple dusks twinkling their magic. And that was the time when he was completely enchanted with the magical world of wizardry books.

The kid introduced himself as Jerry, but then claimed the alias, 'Moonbin', as Eunwoo can't seem to pronounce it like how it should be.

Jerry was the one who presented him the marvelous way of the unusual lips letting out those chants, and spell. He who let Eunwoo witness the oddities, tricks and thrills within Hogwarts; He who let him see how magical god-fairies are, and how shiny Cinderella's shoe is.

He who completely welcomed Eunwoo towards his perfect escape to his reality. By reading books.

A nostalgic carol tuned out, echoing its chimes and Christmas runes with the sounds of burning furnace interrupting its smooth harmony. Star-shaped lanterns then flickered their sheen, and the Christmas lights started gleaming in the colors of green, yellow, and red.

"Christmas is such a lovely season," Moonbin mumbled.

"How could I disagree with that?" Eunwoo snapped back, eyes now watching the place being filled with twinkles.

"Christmas holds a lot of bittersweet, yet hopeful realization. The winter will make you brush away your worries, lanterns will join you shine like the greatest, and the joyous people will make you feel the undying love."

Moonbin looked at the cozy callant with a book in his hand, "This season just highlighted the beauty of life. It just said that life should be embraced, should be appreciated. And the sublime kisses of life holds the happiest feeling. Eunwoo, reality is beyond beautiful than you ever thought it would be."

Eunwoo clicked his tongue, "How would I even feel its so-called sublime kisses?"

A grin flashes through Moonbin's lips as he reached something from his pocket. It was a mistletoe. He elevated his hand, travelling at the top of the gap between them.

Eunwoo was in the state of shock, and Moonbin just waste no time and locked his lips onto Eunwoo's.

Euphoria explosion, nirvana has gone wild. They both felt so happy. Felicity was overflowing within them that it made Eunwoo shed a number of crystallised tears.

"Moonbin, you'll stay with me forever, right?" Eunwoo whispered as they both parted.

Moonbin just answered with a nod, and placed a quick kiss to the other lad.

And that was the moment when Eunwoo found out that angels can shot lies even it is December, for completely tossing this magical world away to embrace reality means turning back against the fantasy.

Leaving the thing that deprives him to enclasp the reality fully is a must.

And that includes leaving Moonbin, who is just a product of his phantasm, and a mere fragrance of his imagination.