Over The Years

Shades of Colour

| Yixing/Luhan, Yifan/Chanyeol, onesided! Yixing/Yifan | PG13 | Angst, Major Character Death

Summary:

Yixing has waited for this moment for so long. YIfan, on the other hand, doesn't wait.

Written for NHE 2017

Blood was sticky and all shades of red. Like wine. Except wine smelled sticky sweet and was purple.

Chanyeol's blood was all shades of red. Crimson, scarlet and when dry on his hands, a dark rust that reeked of iron.

Yifan dreamed in shades of red. The bright scarlet of blood tainting white skin, the crimson of Chanyeol's hair dulling as the life faded from him. The white splash of moon in the night sky when he found him, the yellow streetlight colouring his pale skin. And the blood. The dark red slash of blood across his throat, the crimson liquid dripping down his white shirt, staining his hunter green jacket even darker.

It took him days to get the stain out. So much bleach and soap and cold water. The jacket still smelled of bleach and the cologne Chanyeol used to use. The bottle was still more than half full when Yifan had gone to get it. How ironic, he thought, as he sprayed it liberally over the jacket. The cologne bottle was a deep dark cherry, the same colour as Chanyeol's favourite fruit, the colour that tainted his lips after a night of red wine.

Yifan dreamed in black too. In black and blue and that white splash of moon. He dreamt of violet eyes and lilac hair, of black masks and a silver knife vanishing into long folds of fabric. He dreamt of footsteps on the tarmac, the whistle of the winter wind and a black cloak lined with red velvet.

He dreamt of his own scream, of Chanyeol's dull eyes, the last whisper of his lover before his eyes closed forever. He saw the yellowed streetlight, the sprinkle of stars across the sky, and the red lined cloak vanishing around the corner. He dreamt in shades of crimson, black and blue and the silver of his own knife slicing the killer's throat.

-

Yixing dreamed in shades of blue and black. The navy of the night sky as he ran, his cloak dancing in the wind. He dreamt in silver and red. The flash of his blade moving across a white throat, the crimson blood dripping between his fingers. He dreamt of purple and gold. Mottled bruises purpling on pale skin, his lover's golden hair.

He screamed too when he found him, the prone body lying across the violet couch, purple handprints circling his throat, plum coloured bruises littering his body. His nails were rust, stained with the blood of his killer. Yixing took pleasure in knowing that he had been hurt too. Luhan had always been a fighter.

It took him ages to track him down, the man who had murdered his love. He was an ex, a man with crimson hair and a disarming smile. Yixing could have taken his life then. It would have been easy.

His cells would have turned black, withered and died. His body would have revolted against him, his blood boiling in his bloodstreams, his eyes shrivelling and dying. He should have perished that first night Yixing had met him, looking absolutely charming in a black suit and silver tie.

But he had been distracted. By the new man on his arm.

Yixing dreamt of amber and gold. The amber of the older man's eyes and the gold of his hair. He knew him. He remembered golden sunsets, sparkling blue water and snowy white sand. He remembered dreaming of running his hands through golden locks, kissing the slender column of his throat. He dreamt of falling once more into the clutches of love, of being loved back in return. It would be the sweetest revenge, stealing Chanyeol's man from right under his nose and then slitting his throat.