Salvation

Chapter 13

I still have to put a lot of careful thought into this, but now I'm itching to continue.

...

"Damn it Chanyeol!" Yixing groaned and flipped over onto his back, blinking blearily at the ceiling. What time was it? "I don't care what damn excuse you have. If you just dump Junmyeon there to fight his battles alone, you're heartless. And you're not helping." Yixing's confusion only grew as he became more alert, tuning into the conversation happening one room over. "Yeah I come to work still. But you know what? I go see Zitao every single night. He's never going to lay down in his bed and wonder if he's loved. I'll shout it from the rooftops if I have to." Another pause. "Fuck you." Yixing finally rose from his bed and padded next door, stopping just outside the room. He raised his fist and knocked.

"Everything okay in there?" he asked. Time seemed to come to a stand still as his cousin grew quiet in his room. "That was Chanyeol, huh?" Yixing dared ask, hoping to jump back into organic conversation. "What's going on Yifan? I have to know before I go there today, that way I know how to handle Junmyeon." He waited for an answer, but instead was surprised when the door swung open and Yifan beckoned him inside. Yixing followed, glancing around. A giant bed dominated one wall, with royal purple blankets and pillow cases. Dark, hardwood furniture, including a bedside table and matching dresser. Yifan caught his cousin looking around, and he felt something inside him break all over again.

"This was Tao's doing," he explained. Yixing turned his gaze back to his cousin, remaining quiet while he talked. "Tao picked out everything. I was more than okay with it because I don't know a thing about interior design." Yifan trailed off after that, sinking onto the mattress and running his fingers over the comforter. In truth, he felt lost without Zitao here. Sure, they were separate entities that led two different lives, but Zitao's separate life was so intertwined with Yifan's that, without him here, something seemed missing.

All his life, Yifan grew up rough and ready, a trait he picked up from his father, who swore that real men were always ready for a fight. How destroying that mentality could be in hindsight. Yifan also hopped from girlfriend to girlfriend growing up, never quite satisfying the feeling deep in the pit of his stomach. When he was sixteen, he signed up to be an exchange student in South Korea for the following school year. It just seemed a good way to pass time, and get out from the scrutiny of his immediate family. Never did Yifan believe Korea would hold so much more.

But South Korea had Huang Zitao, who pushed every single one of Yifan's buttons while simultaneously knocking down the carefully constructed walls he'd built for himself. Zitao wore his emotions and his heart on his sleeve alike. He was brutally honest when he needed to be, and sneaky and snarky to boot. Yifan couldn't stand the man at first, finding him a peculiar specimen. But he quickly grew on the cold hearted boy, and soon a friendship grew. And that, in turn, blossomed into love. Yifan never had plans on staying in Korea, away from his family. But after that year he had no plans of returning. Zitao turned into the epicenter of his tiny world.

Zitao showed him patience. Kindness. Sympathy. Love. Zitao brought out a side of Yifan he didn't even know existed, but was so incredibly thankful for. Around Zitao he could fall apart, be vulnerable, but be met with nothing but understanding and acceptance. It was strange, yet comforting. But now here Zitao was, falling into his own abyss, and Yifan had no idea how to help him. He stayed up most nights praying despite not being the most religious guy. Praying that Zitao would still be there when he woke up. That, even if he was never the same, he was better.

Please, please just keep him safe, became his nightly mantra. Let me wake up with him still here. Taozi means absolutely everything to me. Don't take him from me. Please.