far from perfect | breddy

setting the stage

relationship

eddy chen/brett yang/you (romantic)

content warnings

explicit sexual content, graphic depictions of violence, blood and gore, voyeurism, implied stalking, injuries, temporary character death

summary

That is when you smell the scent of blood clinging to Eddy. Brett notices, voice becoming harsh and unforgiving. Orders Eddy to clean up the droplets trailing from the doorway to the living room; you're too distracted with examining the inside of the house to notice. 

Eddy kneels and you gasp lightly. What a vision he is, wiping the blood on the floor. You and Brett seem to agree, both of you raking your hungry gaze on Eddy. Brett waits by the bathroom, supporting himself on the wall. A roll of clothes (robes for both of them) rests in his hand.

one-shot

The thing is all flames start with a spark.

A little tongue of concentrated heat develops into a gargantuan fire, wild and uncontrollable, burning down anything in its path until all that's left are smoke and ashes.

Likewise, a random sentence ("I see droplets on the ground", "the fact you thought all this from that single sentence") uncovers a rabbit hole that leads into an undiscovered place. And so it begins. You're now falling into open space—

Until you hit ground. Groaning and wincing from the pain on your back, you slowly sit up from the side of the road. You're too disoriented from the free fall that it takes you a full minute to notice a familiar weight on your neck— your camera, all pristine and ready to be used. You laugh to yourself, checking out the SD card to see the amount of storage available.

It's more than enough.

You look around the street you're in, noting the lack of attention you're getting. You wonder if you're visible to the people right now as you watch a lady walk past your sitting form. Maybe not. You get up from the road, camera in hand, fingers already photographing your surroundings: the road, the street signs, the shops lining the sidewalks of the street.

You take pictures of the people too, however scarce they are. You have fun zooming on the birds perched on some rooftops. You maneuver the angle of your camera in so many ways to frame your shots perfectly. You take in the smell in the air: sharp and a bit metallic. Blood, you guess.

Muffled gunshots come from somewhere behind you. You keep that little detail stored away for later. Two people go on a chase across from you, so you take a video of them running. You cut it off after a few seconds.

Now, where's the one you are looking for?

Ah, you see him. He's in a hurry, jogging ahead of you. Tall, curly-haired, gold glasses sitting on his nose. His black turtleneck accentuates his broad shoulders (you internally bet someone would kill for it, and someone probably did try), and those gray jeans hugs his behind snugly.

Mmm.

Eddy Chen.

Your heart does a little traitorous flip as you raise your camera and press the shutter, successfully capturing his entirety. You check the result of the photo first before going after Eddy. You don't get too close, letting him lead both of you to his destination.