"fallen angel ripped and bruised"
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
Time is as precious as diamonds, although only one is taken for granted. Time is as scarce as water in a desert, although only one is searched for. Time is as fast as lightning, although only one seems to appear and disappear in an instant.
Time takes as much as a thief, although only one is caught.
In society, we do not witness a person die from old age and blame time. We do not see a person murdered and blame time for taking them away. Time steals and it conquers, it controls and sets fear into the hearts of the weak. It is the driving force for all of humanity to follow, no matter how scary and ominous. Time does not share, it does not give back, it leaves everything up to the person to figure out. You get no hints, no clues, in the game of the time. You must stare into the dark abyss and walk forward, unsure and uncertain, with no flashlight and no vision.
Time will take without warning or reason, regardless of the consequences, for it cannot be caught. When something is not caught, it will continue to do as it was, until it is contained. But if that something is as visible as air, as fast as sound, and as deadly as a viper, it cannot be caught.
Jeongin was trapped in a perilous game of time, and unluckily for him, he was losing. He was to become but another pawn in the game, another easy defeat, no matter how hard he fought. Pills and sleep were no match for time, who had the power to take and destroy both of those things.
Chan was fighting a losing battle, not being one to surrender easily. He was teaming up with someone so weak against something so strong, and no matter how much he wished for it to be a lie, time will win overall.
Time will defeat love, regardless of how strong it is.
So, Chan ran through the grocery store like he was racing the Flash. He pushed his legs as far as they could go like they were made of jelly and not bones. He willed his lungs to inhale as much air as the busy and crowded streets would allow, just to beat time.
He barged through the front door like a madman, oblivious to the boy who was throwing up in the bathroom. Oblivious to the way Jeongin's hands shook when they held his own, oblivious to the way his cheeks burned, oblivious to how he always stood just a few inches too close to the bathroom for it to be normal.
"Choose a color, any color," Chan presented multiple different spray paint cans from the plastic bag he was holding, both surprising and intriguing Jeongin. He picked the color that drew him in the most, a dark navy blue. Chan handed it to him with a smile on his face and a mischievous glint in his eyes. The man grabbed the elongated mirror that was hanging on the wall and put it to the side, leaving the wall completely cleared. The only color on the wall was now an egg white, one that didn't match well with the rest of the interior decoration.
Chan used that as his excuse as he brought the red spray paint to the wall, pushing the nozzle and letting the paint leave a red trail in his wake. Jeongin gasped at the vandalization of his home, but deep down he didn't care and found the art to be quite beautiful. Chan was certainly a man skilled in all ways of contending, and the rose that was now on his plain wall accentuated his home in a way nothing else did.
Jeongin clapped with excitement before taking the bottle that was in his own hand and adding his own personal touch to the gorgeous flower. The red and blue were two colors that were beautiful in themselves but once mixed created a completely new color that made both look like dirt. The flower that had been as red as a rose was now as purple as lavender, with a very special signature lining it's highlighted petals.
"What the hell is a jeongchan?" Chan asked as he examined the swirly writing.
"It's us," Jeongin replied bashfully, refusing to look into Chan's eyes and distracting himself by adding little hearts around the name.
"That's cute."
"Thanks, Channie," Jeongin whispered, the blush on his cheeks as vibrant as the paint can in the man's hand.
"Baby, look at me."
"No, thank you. I think the wall is prettier."
Jeongin kept his head straight, even if he knew Chan already saw the furious red color dusting his face. Chan huffed in annoyance and brought a hand under Jeongin's chin, forcing the boy to look at him.
"That rose looks like a weed compared to you," Chan whispered, maintaining eye contact with the flustered boy. Jeongin panicked, his heart telling him to lean in and take his chances, and his head telling him not to ruin the beautiful friendship they had forced.
In the end, Jeongin just said, "Do you like meat?"
