Discards

“I wish to believe in immortality-I wish to live with you forever.”
                                                                                                                      ― John Keats

He passes by the statue everyday. The pale marble skin, the rose painted lips, the glassy eyes, the frozen tutu... she remains crystallized among the marketplace, unaffected by the changing humanity around her. People have grown accustomed to her presence. No one stops for a sight of her her now. She stands there, one arm outstretched by her side and one arm held out in front of her, as if inviting some invisible person to dance with her. Her dance will forever be incomplete, with one leg raised behind her, the other èn pointè, torso leaning forward in a frozen arabesque. She was beautiful, but years have dulled her looks, the marble graying with soot from the factory, the lips have faded, eyes stopped glistening, gems have been picked out of her bodice by thieving hands, a finger is missing on the side stretched arm, the result of a child with a careless stone, but, to him, she remains beautiful in all her imperfect glory.
He pauses to look at the life-sized statue of the marble ballerina each time he passes by on the way to the factory. Wide eyes trail over her lithe frame, a small smile curves the plump lips, red from the wintry chill, and he greets her in a wordless "morning", perhaps the only person ever to do so. It is more probable that he does it because he has no one to wish every morning and the statue looks at him with dull eyes that seem to say, "I know what it's like to be misused." He sees old men spit at her feet, children aim pebbles, making a sport of who can hit the diadem atop her head, women gossip at her base– but no one stops to admire her, mostly because the sooty marble filled with stains isn't aesthetically appealing anymore.
To him, she's more than just a centerpiece that has waned in appearance. She is being by her own rights; the smooth curve of her checks, the long tapering fingers the inexplicable sadness in her eyes and smile– she becomes more humane than any human he knows, certainly more than those who he works for.
He feels a a strange attraction towards her, one so powerful that he stumbles over to her, inebriated, depressed, and he sits on her pedestal, crying into his knees, the salty tears stinging the gash on his left cheek. He is ashamed of himself, his weakness, his submission and his inability to have retaliated when they landed the blows on him a while ago. He looks up, the statue looks straight ahead. He raises himself onto the pedestal and slowly meets the blue, glass, irises. He trails a finger over the jagged ends of the broken finger before closing his palm over hers. She is cold to the touch, but warmer than the machines he uses everyday.
The moonshine creates a dull glow in the marble. She awakens to life, wrapping her arms around his shoulder, burying her head into the crook of his neck, she is soft, delicate, smelling of the lily that is tucked behind her ear. She lifts her eyes to look at him, wiping away the drying tears and caking blood from his cheeks. He leans forward– the vision breaks with harsh calls of "thief" behind him. Two burly officers of the law lift him off of the pedestal as he thrashes in protest. Slurred tones in protests of innocence fade into the distance as he is dragged away. The marble girl silently screams in his defense– her cries remain unheard.
She stands as use always has, scanning the crown of uninterested people in hopes for the lone pair of eyes that have met hers on purpose. The beautiful doe eyes, tinged with pain and loneliness and yet a sense of comfort that seem to tell her, "I know what it's like to be forgotten." She longs for the only human touch she has felt in years, a touch that fills her marble coldness with warmth, though she doesn't think the other humans can be warm like him. Days turn into weeks which run into months, but he doesn't show himself. Little does she know he tries to catch a glimpse of her from his cell window each night and yells in frustration when he can't see her. She keeps waiting for him oblivious to the knowledge that might have offered some comfort. Then, one autumn afternoon, when the leaves from the tree overhead have turned golden from age, a man lifts himself up to her pedestal butt he isn't the one she is looking for. This stranger, with his rough hand removes the diadem from atop her head while she hears chiseling sounds at her feet. Two pairs of hands brusquely list her off of the pedestal that she has stood on since her creation– then come the people. They throng around her, eager hands jostling and lunging at her, trying to remove the gems that adorn her figure. The two holding her can battle the crowd no longer and she falls, breaking against the very pedestal that once held her. She lies helpless, as men, women and children wrench out the glittering stones from her shoes and dress; someone gouges the blue stone of her right eye and pockets it. With the other she has the satisfaction of spotting him in the distance before the other eye is ripped out too.
He came racing the moment he was released, hoping to smile up at his statue once more. Now, he sees filthy hands violating her, robbing her of anything valuable until the leave behind the naked marble. He tries to get closer, but the mob shoves him back until he hits his head on a lamp most and falls into the dirt. The crowd disperses eventually when there is nothing remaining except for the marble husk. He walks over to her, sitting upon the pedestal, looking into the hollow eyes and smiling mouth, that stabs his heart a hundred times over. Life resumes in the marketplace, no one spares her another glance. She lies there, shattered, fragmented, to be discarded in the morning by garbage collectors. Dusk casts a rosy glow over her cheeks. He picks up a broken lily petal, lying beside her severed head, and clasps it tightly in his palm, wondering how long before he meets the same fate.
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This was inspired by John Keats' obsession with immortality ad crystallized existence and once again Kyungsoo invaded my head... so there you have it...

Listen To Me

Darkling I listen, and for many a time
            I have been half in love with easeful Death,
Called him soft names in many a sweet rhyme,
            To take into the air my quiet breath"
                                                               -John Keats (Ode To A Nightingale)

He calls out to me often. It begins with soft whispers, that float on the quiet breezes, rising to a crescendo until it fades out once more into the ebony of the night. It is melodious, enchanting, and it catches me by surprise each time, throwing my emotions into a whirlwind of chaos and I can't see the eye of the storm– or maybe I don't wish to. Even the faintest wisps that I catch, quickens my heart, makes my nerves taut and my skin glisten with anticipation- because if his voice is in the air, I shall see him soon.
Sure enough I do. The first fleeting glimpse of him comes with the stench of humiliation of being fired. He's a fragrant breath of fresh air,smelling of the salty sea, exotic spices and freshly made pasta... of nostalgia, of home. Of course there isn't a way home from this foreign land. There are loans to be repaid, bills to be paid, then people die, people leave, more loads, bills upon bills and, at the end of it all, only thought of him fill my mind to the darkest crevices, lingering on till I'm left breathless in their wake– dangerous but not wholly unwelcome. So he sits opposite my couch at the end of everyday, smiling, and beckoning me over.
I'd be lying if I said I haven't thought of walking over to him, falling into his arms, lying in his cold embrace, looking into his eyes and kissing his frigid lips., leaving all the world and all my life behind; just to give into him and forget everything. He entices me like nothing and no one else, sitting there, calling out to me softly in that sinful voice, holding his out hand; and it comes as a sudden realization one evening– all I have to do is take it.
Its like sneaking into your fridge in the middle of the night to devour on melting dark chocolate until it finishes and you're left licking your fingers, relishing in the afterglow of a forbidden task. Only, thoughts of him are darker and giving into him will possibly result in no afterglow– but the allure, multiplied a hundred times over, is enough for me to dream of him night after night, only to start awake and stare, breathless, into the darkness.
He stares back, his pale skin and wine red hair visible in the the moonless night.  He is beautiful, so tantalisingly close that I only have to reach out an he'll pull  me in. My resolve slowly ebbs away and with each passing day he seems a step closer, until one day, I turn around, and he's right in front of me.
His presence bombards my senses with conflicting emotions– wanting him to disappear and wanting to draw him close– and intoxicates me, filling me with bubbling anticipation,giddy and excited all at once. Dark eyes bore into mine, slender fingers brush though my hair. I can feel his cold breath.
"Its very easy, you know?" He whispers against my lips. Longing crackles through every fibre of my being. "One, two, three, and then, oblivion." I roll my palms into fists in hopes of getting some semblance of cognition back. He presses his forehead against mine. Desire takes over my mind. I reach out to trail my fingers over the soft curve of his cheek to the firm jaw. Shivers pulsating through my body. There isn't any turning back now.
His smooth voice instructs me as feet find their way to the kitchen, wine glasses are filled and then back to the medicine cabinet for a bottle full of sleeping pills. Feverish hands mix the two substances and baleful eyes stare at the final concoction– is this what I want?
All intelligible thoughts disappear from my mind, as his smile presses against my lips; thoughts of him grow through my mind until there isn't room from anything else. I pull away, take a deep breath and put pen to paper.
He still sits in front of me, waiting for me to finish and he knows I'm almost there because he smiles in eager anticipation. It's a beautiful smile. I lace my finger through his. The wine glass with its content sits  in front of my eyes. I feel a gentle squeeze on my palm egging me on. A deep breath. He cups my cheeks. Another deep breath. I see nothing but the deep cesspools of his irises. The breaths are sharp, short gasps now. He kisses my parted lips. The wine glass sits ready on the table– so am I.
It'll be easy. Just one, two, three..... and then..... oblivion.
A/N: I really didn't intend for this to be a fanfic, just half way through Kyungsoo stated creeping into my mind and took over .____.

A Series of (God-Awfully Unfortunate) Events: Chapter 1

Pairings: OT12, KaiSoo(?) (more later)
Rating: PG 13 (to be safe)
Summary:   In which, Sehun is the new Assistant  professor of Language; Jongin mysteriously landed a job in the cafeteria; Kris' English major students are failing; Yixing is the calm Chinese teacher who helps the music club undercover; Kyungsoo is the sweet and oblivious, yet regularly mobbed by fans, Language professor; Luhan is the seemingly sweet Mathematics professor plotting to steal the new Assistant Professor; Jongdae is the snarky Economics professor, with a deadly inner troll; Minseok is the new Electronic Engineering professor whom no one pays any attention to; Tao is the History of Arts professor who (not so) secretly works as a part-time Gucci model; Chanyeol is the grinning Biology teacher; Baekhyun is a diva of a Chemistry teacher; Joonmyeon is the Director of  Affairs, who has no control whatsoever and the Dean of the college is a man so evil that the devil drinks wine with him (by devil we mean Cho Kyuhyun).
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This Could Be the Start of Something New...
[Or: what starts at "why the hell did I come here?!" and ends at "you are my mortal enemy— FOR LIFE!!!"]
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Oh Sehun is your average Joe, except he's Korean, so maybe he's an average "Kim", but he's obviously an "Oh", not a "Kim" so... anyway, the point is, if he was an American. he'd be an average Joe. An average guy, with an average family, from an average town, with an average job, until his parents forced him to go to Seoul for work.... but he's still an average guy- wondering what he's done to end up in this loony bin.
It hasn't been five minutes since he's entered the campus and two minutes of those five have been wasted by a human traffic jam, caused by the onlookers of a fight between two people, one of whom looked like a very tall Psychotic Clown, with a weird blonde mushroom growing out of his head and the other was a very tiny (or did he just look tiny because of the giant mushroom guy, wonders Sehun) guy, who looked like he was the spokesperson for Eyeliner rights, both of whom were hurling insults at each other...

"You Sone of a bicarbonate!"
"You're the Sone! The Sone of a Brachybacterium!"
"Why you freaking nitrate of ammonia-"

Sehun hadn't waited there for much longer before making dash in the opposite direction and yet by some sad twist of fate, here those two are sitting opposite him in the staff lounge, no longer fighting but with each other but now Ginormous-Psycho-Mushroom dude has his arm draped over Eyeliner-Poster-boy, who's reading over sheets of paper while trying worm his way out of the taller one's grip. On Sehun's right there's a person who looks like a little kid, well if truth be told, like a cherubic  little girl, and this Little Girl-Guy has his foot across the couch on the lap of a very calm looking Chinese man, who actually looks more dazed and lost than calm. Then next to the Mushroom-Eyeliner duo is a man with the cheek bones of a Greek God, except he'd tripped Sehun on his way to the couch and flashed him a very disarming grin so Sehun decides that he's officially Mr. Cheekbones-of-Hades, there's also a Chinese guy with panda eyes who looks way too fashionable for a professor (also he has a strange emo aura), a guy with really squishy looking cheeks and a really tall imposing guy, who has not said a word, or lifted his eyes off his book (Premeditated Murder Made Easy) so Sehun's giving him a wide berth. Somewhere in the middle of this zoo, his old friend Jongin walks in. Jongin has landed the head position in the cafeteria and Sehun wonders exactly what horrors the students are in for.
But before he has a chance to wonder exactly how may hospitals will be full by the end of the day, the Director of Affairs, who's name Sehun knows is Joonmyeon, walks in with a smile that says "look-at-me-lowly-beings-I'm-an-angel" but he really looks like somebody's grandpa trying to be cool.
"Sehun ssi, glad you'll be joining us, you too Jongin ssi."
"Seriously?!" Squishy-Cheeks looks at at the Director with incredulous eyes. "You're giving cafeteria boy a welcome too?!" Then he looks over at Jongin apologetically. "No offense bro." Jongin shrugs.
"Anyhoo," the Joonmyeon carries on, "let me introduce you. That's Luhan, he lectures math." Little-Girl guy gives him a real angelic smile, that leaves Sehun mildly disturbed. "That's Chanyeol, Chem." Psychotic-Mushroom gives him a psychotic grin. "That's Baekhyun, Bio." The Eyeliner-poster-boy looks up in disdain.
"Hey kids, and it's Bio-logy."
"Yeah, okay, that's Jongdae, he's for Eco." Mr. Cheekbones-of-Hades grins at them.
"What's up shortstuff?" Jongin and Sehun raise eyebrows, because Jongdae looks atleast a head shorter than both of them.
"That's Tao, History of Art and Kris, English." Panda-Eyes and Potential-Murderer give him curt nods. "This is Minseok, Electronics." Squishy-Cheeks pouts and then smiles kindly (is that pity in his eyes?) at the two. "And this is Yixing, Chinese." There is no response as the dazed Yixing stares at the opposite wall with his eyes half-shut, and his ears plugged with purple earphones. "Yixing? Yixing? Yixi-"
BAM!
The door flies open and Yixing jumps up with a "I swear I was paying attention!", while Luhan's legs drops to the floor and he utters a yelp of protest. The person at the door looks like a sorry mess.
"I'm... sorry... I'm... late...." he manages to spout among the panting and gasping. Sehun notices his shirt looks terribly crumpled and his hair is more than askew, while his large eyes are watering and his cheeks are red. Sehun thinks this pint sized man looks like a soft toy, and he's about to say that to Jongin, when he realises that his friend is staring unabashedly at the new comer, with eyes wide enough to match his.
"Ayo! Wassup D.O.!" Luhan calls out chreerily, two decibels too loud and everyone visibly winces.
"Mobbed again Soo?" Minseok asks with a pat on "Soo's" back. He nods woefully.
"I don't even... they need some... so many people!!!!" Baekhyun rises from Chanyeol's grasp and gives his seat to "Soo" who gets engulfed into a bear-hug by the large Biology professor.
"Yeol-can't-breathe-let-go-" Chanyeol lets go with a hurried apology. He hears something snap, actually snap next to him, and he realises that Jongin has broken a pencil in two with his fingers while looking at Chanyeol like he was going to end up on the afternoon's lunch menu soon.
"How do they even find you?" Sehun almost fell out of his seat in shock at the deep baritone of Kris. "Soo" shook his head in utter defeat.
"I swear, someday I will find out." Sehun has the intense urge to hug this tiny man. He notices Jongin's knuckles have turned white.
"This is Kyungsoo," says Joonmyeon. "Sehun ssi, you'll be his assistant lecturer."
There's a suddenly loud crash and Sehun realises that Jongin has fallen out of his seat, and is now looking at Sehun with a face halfway between "I'm-in-terrible-pain" and "I-will-end-your-life"... why the second, Sehun does not know.
"You teach Languge?" Jongin asks Kyungsoo politely (too polite, thinks Sehun), while trying to act as if nothing had happened. Kyungsoo looks at him with the same curiosity that one might use to look at a monkey in a zoo.
"Yes, I do.."
"He totally D-O-e-s!" Quips a grinning Luhan. Kyungsoo rolls his eyes.
"Isn't it a bit too early to make fun of my last name?"
"Of course not Do-nut my man!"
"Argh!" Says Kyungsoo, ruffling his own hair in defeat. Suddenly Sehun feels himself being hauled upwards by two pairs of strong hands, and he lets out a very high pitched yelp.
"I'm borrowing him for a bit," says Jongin between gritted teeth and proceeds to drag him out of the door, ignoring the raised eyebrows and Jongdae's call of "play nice kids!" and slam him against the wall at the nearest corner.
"You're the Assistant prof.?" He demands.
"Ye-ah..." Sehun is very unsure of where this is headed.
"No~!" Wails Jongin and slumps to the floor. "You... but I... I mean this.... I- I don't want to work in the cafe!!"
"Why'd you even get a job there? You're-"
"Don't talk to me Oh Sehun!"
"What? You dragged me out here-"
"Zip! Do not talk!"
"Wha-?"
"Oh Sehun you're officially my mortal enemy- FOR LIFE!"
"Morta-"
"For LIIIIIIIIIIIIFE!!!" Says Jongin before stomping off. A second later Sehun hears a crash and a groan.
"Oh my gosh! I'm so sorry!" He peeks around the corner to see Jongin sprawled on the floor with a very concerned Kyungsoo hovering over him.
"Ooooh, you've D-O-n-e it now," whistles Luhan.
"Not now for god's sake! Are you okay?" Jongin groans and opens his eyes. Sehun notes his friend's interesting red colour over his tan skin.
"I'm hot!" Says Jongin springing up, and Kyungsoo takes a hasty step backwards, while Sehun mentally facepalms. "I- I mean I'm cool! Not- not that cool, but cool as in 'hey I'm okay'... oh wait that rhymed and umm.. I uhh-" He catches a sight of Sehun's impassive face around the corner. "For LIIIIIIIFE!!" And he bolts towards the stairs, leaving a very amused Luhan and Yixing and a very confused Kyungsoo in his wake. In fact, Sehun can almost hear Kyungsoo's internal comment on Jongin's sanity, or the lack of it.
So a loony bin, that just became loonier thanks to Kim Jongin, contemplates Sehun as he walks through the corridors. Students start pouring in, some looking at him in vague interest, others hurriedly rushing past.
He sees Chanyeol and Baekhyun animatedly discussing something, Lunhan, Yixing and Jongdae with their heads conspiratorially together, Joonmeyon walking through the corridors, smiling perkily at the students who  could not care less, Kris walking off with his nose still in the book ( Sehun is going to give him a very wide berth)  and Tao occasionally pauses to check his reflection in the mirror.
Yes, right now if someone could read Oh Sehun's mind, they'd hear him ask exactly what sin he's committed to end up here.
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This is the first chapter in the series, the following ones are going to focus on a few members at a time, rarely all 12.
I hope to get better at humor as I write so please bear with me and I'm happy to receive suggestions.
Xie xie,
ElfinJoy
P.S- in the summary, if you click on the highlighted names, you will get images of the members as I imagine them to be in the story!
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Cut Scene 1: Kim Jongdae and his Tape.

"Not fair... even Lunch-Boy gets a welcome and I got nothing when I came last month. Just 'Hey Minseok, this is your schedule, have fun.' Who the hell has fun in Trical?! People just stare-"
"SUUURPRIISE!!!"
"OH MY- oh very funny Jongdae... what's that?"
"This is a tape recorder and why yes, I did record my voice and then digitally layer it eleven times so it sounds like bunch of people and ta~da~!"
"Where the hell... do you even get the time...?"
"Wouldn't you like to know my little Minseokkie, ehehehehehee."
"I'm not your little Minseo-."
"Ehehehehehehee."
"The whole evil-hand-rubbing thing isn't working, so sto-."
"Ehehehehehehee."
"And nor is the high-pitched-maniacal laugh, just sto-"
"Ehehe-" THUNK!
"OH MY GOD! Did you just knock Jongdae out with that text book?!"
"Lu..han... I uhh-"
"HEY GUYS! WE NEED TO HOST A PARTY IN HONOUR OF MINSEOK! LIKE NOW!!"
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Wake Me Up II: Exo Drabbles

Kris
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The muffled sound of rain has a gentle soporific effect as you drift somewhere between sleep and wake. The grey sky filters in through your nearly closed lids, seeming more beautiful than its dull reality. The novel lies forgotten under your cheek. The hard library table seems so comfortable. You really should not have pulled off that all-nighter to finish your English assignment, but you did, and the end result is spending your free fourth period in the library.
Something soft pokes your arm a few times. You ignore it. Then a deep, gravely voice softly says, "students aren't allowed to sleep in the library."
You jerk off the table. You probably look like a train wreck, which is the worst possible thing you could look like in front of him.
Wu Yifan.
His eyes glint sharply, speaking volumes more of the teasing behind those words than his face.
"Sunbae..." You mumble, looking everywhere but at his face. The last thing you want is to stare into his eyes and turn red.
"Rough party last night?" His smirk is well pronounced now. Here come the butterflies.
"I wish." Months of practice has rendered you able to utter short sentences in front of him without sound like you could use english lessons... though the idea of lessons with Mr. Vancouver doesn't seem all that bad. He clicks his fingers in front of your face. You blink at him with a start. You've been dreaming about him— right in front of him! The tip of your ears burn in embarrassment.
"Do you always dream of him?"
"What...?"
"Whoever gets that silly smile on your face." The butterflies in your stomach flutter in a whirlwind of confusion.
"I- I..." You pause for a second, knowing your face is probably redder than a London tour bus, and say, "I have no idea what your talking about sunbae." He runs a hand through his hair and leans back into the chair, putting his hands behind his head.
"I'm just saying- lucky guy." Your eyes turn wider than an owl (or for that matter, your classmate, Do Kyungsoo's). The old Dream Boy joke again... going on ever since you blanked out at a council meeting... for the record, it was his new spiked hair.
"Wha-?" You blink at him rapidly, wondering if its the sleep that's causing you to hallucinate. He laughs, the deep sound making you flush and the butterflies stir again. Then, there is a loud crack of lightening. The sudden shock sends you gasping to clutch at the sleeves of his shirt.
"Scared of thunder?" His lips are pulled into a teasing smirk, but his eyes are clouded with.... worry?
You pull back with an attempt to look dignified (and fail miserably). "I was surprised." Then you look out of the adjacent window, into the thick curtain and sigh softly. "So much for english class..."
"No umbrella?" The voice is too close. You snap back into your chair with wide eyes and flush cheeks. He has been leaning close to look out of the window. You shake your head jerkily, still trying to process the proximity. "I have one, and I'm headed to the council room." You look at him with furrowed eyebrows.
"Students' Council Room.... now?"
"I'm the president, I can do what I want." That playful smirk is back. You roll your eyes. "I may not be Mr. Dream Boy, but you shouldn't turn down the umbrella." You resist the urge to roll your eyes again and tell him that he is "Mr. Dream Boy"... but of course you're not that much of an idiot.
"Gamsahaminda sunbae," you try a half bow, but in your groggy state, end up hitting your head on the table. There is a sharp sting of pain along your forehead and you bury your face in your hands.
Two hands gently tug your wrists away from your face. Through teary eyes you can see the blurry face of Wu Yifan, looking at you with an unreadable expression.
"So careless," he mumbles softly and then, despite your squeak of protest, proceeds to rub the hurt area with the pad of his thumb. Remember the butterflies? They're doing the samba now. Your face could be a colour catalog for red paint.
"Sunbae..." you try to pull away, but he utters a small, irritated noise and you sit still in submission. Besides, he's doing a pretty good job at the headache too.
"Stop trying to run to Dream Boy." Something inside you snaps in sudden irritation. And you slap his hand away.
"I wish I could but he's too busy playing President." Your words make no sense to you, let alone to him, but he seems to have caught onto something. He shrugs, picks up your books and you follow meekly, not daring to utter another word.
He doesn't say anything either. That is, not until the two of you have reached the middle of the football pitch (because crossing it is quicker than going all the way around it to the other building) and he stops, and you realise, you have no where to run in the pouring rain.
"You should have said something earlier, and here I was wasting my jealousy," the smirk is back, and in tandem with the playful look in his eyes. You dart a look left, then right and decide to stare at the mud on your shoes, because that is all you can do, short of praying for sudden-death-by-lightning.
"Ku ai de baobei."
The voice is deep, low, heavy, and its suddenness shocks you into lifting your head. He's much to close, looking at you with the smouldering eyes that make you feel so hunted and drawn in at once. This time though, he shuts your squeak of protest by kissing you.
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For Qiuyue jie,
Hope, though as lame as this is, it makes you blush (^•^)
For Mink jie,
Hope you had lovely exams (^w^)

Kiss List

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"Guys! Holy cow! Guys!!" You race through the library, ignoring the dirty looks thrown at you by the librarian, stopping at a table of four boys, only two of whom were actually reading. "I'm dead, so dead!!" You wail, earnings still more dirty looks from the students at neighboring tables. Luhan looks up from the half solved crossword in his hand.
"Forgot your homework?" Yixing shakes his head without raising it from his book and counter,
"No, she lost something again."
"Umm... a bit of both, actually..." you mumble, shuffling your feet underneath the table. Jongdae raises an eyebrow at your embarrassed face.
"You forgot-lost your homework-something? What does that even mean?"
"No, pabo— you see, I lost my notebook, so I'll go to class looking like I haven't done my homework.... and it's Cho seongsaengnim's class... he's scarier than hell when you don't get your homework... remember what he did to Jongin?" The lot of you of you shudder involuntarily in memoriam of poor Kim Jongin who carried desks from the first floor to the third till he lost feeling in his arms.
"Why don't you explain it to him?" Asks Joonmyeon, his face twisted with fatherly worry (sometimes you wonder if he's ever going to find something that doesn't worry him). You shake your head.
"It's not just that, you know.... there's something in that notebook that I don't want anyone to see." The thought of it makes you red. Jongdae grins at you.
"Everyone knows your grade in math, nothing can be worse." You resist the strong urge to throw the nearest Oxford Dictionary at his head.
"This is." You say firmly, ignoring his comment with the roll of an eye. Luhan suddenly looks at you with a smile too wide to be normal (and frankly, frightening enough to send chills up your spine).
"This list," he begins, and you begin to regret your existence. "Does it contain certain situations, which involve you and a significant other in very, very close proximity?" The grin is positively diabolic now. You blush a violent shade of red and kick under the table, only to miss his leg and hit Joonmyeon's- which contorts his face into a grimace, his angelic features long lost. You mumble a hurried apology.
"What list?" Asks Jongdae curiously.
"How. Did. You. Read. It. Gege?" You ask, between gritted teeth. His smile reaches epic proportions.
"You really shouldn't leave things like that lying on your desk," says Yixing, looking at you languidly, his chin propped up on his palms. You glare at them. Even non-nosey Joonmyeon has had his curiosity piqued.
"What list?" Demands Jongdae. Luhan grins like the devil reincarnate.
"Wouldn't we all like to know," he says looking very suggestively at you. You look from Joonmyeon's polite curiosity to Jongdae's (very) impolite one.
"There you are." There! The voice of your savior! Your knight in shining armor! Your guardian angel! Your— your classmate, Do Kyungsoo (though right now, he's all of the above for you).
"Nae?" You look at him calmly, though your insides are screaming at you to glomp him for saving you.
"We need to work on our english project," he says and then looks around the table at the others, particularly at Luhan's devilish grin and falters, "did I interrupt something?"
"No—"
"Sit down Kyung," Luhan cuts you off. Your eyes grow wider than Kyungsoo's (and you thought it wasn't possible). "Let us enlighten you."
You jump up and grab your erstwhile savior by the crook of his arm.
"He'll listen some other time!" You start pulling him away, knowing that Joonmyeon and Jongdae would know everything before you could say 'kimchi'. Atleast one out of three rescued isn't a complete loss.
"Spawns of Pure Evil," you mutter darkly as you get between two bookshelves. Kyungsoo laughs and you release his arm with a start. His face turns into the, all-too-well-know, 'heart-shaped' smile (which stops your heart) and you know you'd be lying if you said you didn't have a small- wait, no, a massive- crush on your classmate (who would have been your sunbae, if the both of you weren't taking Advanced Language together).
"—wondering if this belongs to you?" Something is thrust under your nose and you realise that while you've been staring at his face, he's holding something out to you.... something that suddenly makes Luhan seem like a poodle.
"Ye-yes, that..." You trail off, waiting, watching for him to make some snide reference to the all incriminatong list— but he's smiling as usual. "Thank you, I spent all morning looking for it." You laugh, partially in relief and mostly at your own thoughts, while he turns to the shelf, going back to hunting down books, his lips pursed into an adorable pout of concentration. So much will power wasted in not breaking out into a fit of giggles.
You take a deep breath, and flip the notebook. The math homework is there, but more importantly, the list is not.
The list contains exactly what Luhan implied it did— a list of your favorite situations, to be.... kissed in. It's an embarrassing list to be sure, well, in the hands of Lay or Luhan, its probably a lethal weapon, and you shudder at the armageddon that would come as a result of its exposition. You trail your eyes over the expanse of the tall bookcases, hoping for some brilliant spark of some sort to hit you. It's about then that you notice it. Sticking out harmlessly from Do Kyungsoo's back pocket, with the tell-tale song of your pink lipbalm on it, while you mentally flail wondering exactly why you'd never learnt to pickpocket in your free time.
He turns slowly, feeling your hard gaze. "Yes?" Your breath hitches for all the wrong reasons.
"You-you...." You're pretty certainly making, what Luhan calls "bunny eyes", at him. The corners of his lips quirk into a small smile that is so infuriatingly teasing that, if you didn't worship his face, you could have punched him.
"Oh this?" He dangles the small scrap paper between his thumb and forefinger. "Here."
You stare at it for a long while, thinking Luhan's armageddon seemed much more pleasant. Hesitation and haste wage wars against each other inside you and you eventually pluck it out of his hands, with clammy, shaking fingers. He calmly turns back to his literary hunt. You blink and wonder if he's seen what's in the list. You guess not by the lack of his reaction, and your face breaks into a wide smile.
"I don't know about the rest but I can help with the first two... about now." The smile freezes in place as your eyes grow owl wide. He turns to you with an ordinary enough look, but the look in his eyes makes Luhan feel like an Archangel. You gulp.
"Are you saying you'll kiss me?" You're almost shocked at how natural you make that sound.
"That's not a bad idea." Yes. Luhan is the God of Kindness and Benovelence compared to this.
He walks close, almost teasing, no, daring you to do something.
2. A tie kiss...
1. A library kiss..
You reach out to the soft fabric of his tie, holding it gingerly between your fingers, and give a small tug. He laughs softly.
"What happened to Miss Taekwondo?" He cups your cheek with his palm and presses his lips onto yours.
Sure it's incredibly cliched, and Luhan might be the end of you if he hears of this but it's the best first kiss to you.
Your fingers curl around the tie tightly as he pulls away. There is somewhat of a half-smirk on his face, which changes into a wide smile. You bite your lips to stop a smile, but that fails.
"Come for lunch someday, lets see what we can do about the other ones." You laugh before he kisses you lightly again. When he pulls away, his irises slightly shining in the sunlight from the bay window next to you, you're slightly breathless, and definitely light headed. So cheesy, but so perfect.
A few minutes, and kisses, later, you walk through the library, your little finger hooked through his, and notice that the table everyone was at seems emptier. Yixing and Joonmyeon the model students,obviously having left for their classes early, leaving Jongdae, who's fallen asleep on an open book, and Luhan—
Luhan sits with his elbow propped upon the table, his chin in his palm, looking... no, staring, at Jongdae, as if he's seeing the latter for the first time. You don't know who is more vulnerable, the oblivious Jongdae or the observing Luhan. You smile and decide to let him be.... but of course not.
Kyungsoo watches in amusement as you walk behind Luhan, and stoop to whisper,
"Lulu ge, would you like to borrow ideas from my list?"
Luhan whips around with the look of a cat caught staring at milk. Then as the words sink in, he turns pink and accidentally kicks Jongdae, who looks like a little Beagle pup as he awakens and blinks, asking Luhan, in a voice heavy with sleep and accented Chinese,
"Wei shen me....?" Luhan turns into hybrid between a tomato and a beet. Kyungsoo starts laughing as Jongdae gives a confused stare. You bite your cheeks to stop yourself from doing the same.
Revenge is sweet.
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Inspired by a dream I had.
And an embarrassed Luhan is the cutest thing ever, beagle Chen is cuter!!!
(I imagine the reader a first year, Kyungsoo and Jongdae as second years and Lulu, Lay and Suho as final year students)
Read and review!! (^•^)/
Elfinjoy

Wake Me Up: Exo Drabbles

D.O.

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There is a soft hand running through the locks of your hair, gently pulling you out of your sleep. Vivid dreams fade to black and you open your eyes to black. It takes a while for you to realise it's a black shirt front. You pull back slightly. The hand drops to your back.
"Did I wake you?" The voice is gravely with sleep. You smile at the half open eyes and shake your head slowly.
"I was almost awake anyway," your voice is barely above a whisper. His face breaks into a sleepy half smile. You can hear his rhythmic heartbeat. "You're sleeping in a shirt..." you mumble, while fingering the collar.
"I was too lazy." His sleepy drawl almost makes you blush.
"When did you get back?"You ask, making sure to keep your voice in check. He slips an arm under your head and pulls you closer. Maybe it's a tad cheesy, but you feel safe and protected each time he does this.
"I don't know... two? Maybe three?" He smiles at your frown. "Don't worry, I slept all evening in the car." Your hands slide over his shoulder.
"Doesn't it hurt...?" His soft laugh reverberates through your body.
"Look who's talking. I picked you up from the desk. Sleeping there can't be any less painful." You offer half a pout as protest.
"In my defense, I was writing."
"You're the one who over-works yourself." There is a faint note of chiding in his voice.
"Well..." Your eyes drop from his face to his chest, afraid of more to come. You're surprised to find yourself pulled closer.
"Nol pabo ya?" He whispers into your hair. The faint smell of his faded cologne soothes you as you breathe in deeply.
"Aniya..." The hold around you tightens.
"This... calls for a day off."
"But-but I have to go..." The protest in you voice is hardly there. It's more of talking for the sake of it. He knows that, and he laughs.
"No you have to stay."
"But I'll lose my job..."
"If you keep talking, I'm not letting you move."
"You know it's impossible for me to stop talking."
"I wonder if you won't because you want to stay like this." You flick your hand against his chest, but then again, he's not very far from the truth.
"Do Kyungsoo, don't get too full of yourself." But you settle again his chest, which is shaking with laughter and allow him to put his chin on your head. His breathing is slow and steady. So safe, so secure... almost as if nothing can touch me now...
"Kyungsoo?"
"Hmm?"
"I'm sorry for worrying you..."
"I'm sorry too." He drawls and you remain quiet for a while.
"Kyungsoo?"
"Hmm?"
"Let's... take a vacation."
"Hmm."
"You know.... somewhere that has quiet beaches to walk along... Imagine the wind in your hair, the rolling waves, the salty sea air— oh! I could make that into a new song." There is no response. The hold on your frame relaxes, the breathing becomes slow and rhythmic and you look up to see closed eyes and parted lips. You smile at the sleeping face and bury your head in the crook of his neck once more. You can take one pre-vacation, vacation. You snuggle closer, breathing in deeply, and let out a content sigh. To hell with work.
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Suho

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Warm hands are gently shaking your shoulders. You slowly open your eyes to a pair of brown orbs.
"It's almost seven," he says. You reach out to touch his cheeks. He's stiing on his haunches on the floor next to the bed.
"I'm still sleepy..." You mumble. He smiles and you wish you were awake to see it better.
"It's alright," he presses a quick kiss to your lips. You start and open your eyes.
"Do-don't!" You exclaim, pulling back sharply. He blinks in surprise. "I have morning breath..." You mumble defensively. He shifts from his haunches to his knees and rolls his eyes, cupping your cheek to pull you in for another kiss. This one is slower. Still, soft and gentle. Your eyes open wide in surprise but you let him pull away (almost regretting it when he does) before your hands fly to your face in embarrassment.
"Do I look like I care?" He asks with a laugh. You peek out from between your fingers.
"Joonmyun!" You whine. "I'm awake now, thanks to that!" He laughs loudly and pinches your cheek lightly.
"Aigoo. Look at this pabo!" He tugs at your hand. "Now get up." You resist it for the fraction of a second before you allow him to pull you out of the bed by your wrists. You stand for a moment on your own two feet before the grogginess returns and you sway. Two strong arms wrap securely around you waist and pull you close.
"Don't kill yourself, it'll ruin my day." You slap his shoulder, though you're too sleepy to make it hurt. So you pout and rest your head on it.
"I'm uncoordinated in the mornings," you mumble into the fabric of his shirt.
"You are uncoordinated always." He teases and earns another light slap to the shoulders. His hands fall loosely around your hips as he sways you, from side to side, to the rhythm of a silent tune.
"Mmm... I'm getting sleepier..." you protest while pulling closer. His low, warm chuckle sounds in your ear.
"I'll stop, then." There is a murmured protest from you as you nuzzle deeper into the side of his neck. He laughs. The swaying is slowly making your eyelids heavy. Then the swaying stops, the hands drop from your hips and suddenly, the ground disappears from beneath your feet.
"Yah!" He carries you, one hand around your waist, the other one under your knees.
"I told you it's better you don't kill yourself first thing in the morning."
"I can walk..." you say meekly, pressing your head into his chest to hide your red cheeks. He laughs before putting you down outside the bathroom door.
"Happy to help My Lady," he adds a small wink at the end. You shove his chest slightly.
"Stop it!" You pout.
"When it comes to you? Never," he pats your cheek and says, "hurry up, I have breakfast waiting." He turns to leave but pauses on an after thought. "And don't fall asleep in there." Your pout becomes more pronounced and he sneaks in yet another kiss.
"Kim-Joon-myun!!" You huff and he leaves, eyes twinkling with suppressed laughter.
As you catch your face in the mirror upon entering the bathroom. You note the wide eyes, the pink cheeks, and you bite the corner of your lower lip trying to, but failing to, stop the shy smile that slowly takes over your face.
Yes, Kim Joonmyun, and only him.
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The Suho one is for Miya,
Hope you like it long-lost-sis :P
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Baekhyun

"Ireonah," he calls your name. You bury you head deeper into the pillow- noting its absurd hardness. "Yah, ireona-ah," he calls for a third time. Slender fingers brush against your cheeks gently and you flinch in surprise. You move and your pillow shifts under you— wait. Did your pillow... move? You open your eyes groggily, slowly adjusting your vision and his face looms above yours. You flush in embarrassment.
"Baek—?" You mumble curiosly. "Wha-? Why are you in my house?" He laughs, his eyes crinkling and his pearly white teeth dazzling.
"I'm not in your house darling, you're in mine, and on my chest, if I may add." He pokes your cheeks playfully. Your eyes open wide in mortification and you bolt upright, only to find yourself pulled back by two arms around your waist. "I didn't say I mind," he grins.
"Bu-but what-?" He laughs once more. The clear, sweet sound fills the air. You realize that you're sleeping on the couch, with your head on his chest, while he's stretched his legs out onto the ottoman.
"Mianhae.." you mutter. He leans into the backrest.
"You fell asleep during the movie, I didn't want to wake you up, so stop apologizing. Besides you look cute when you sleep." You blush a little at that frank compliment. Your eyes are still drooping from lack of sleep.
"Still, if I keep sleeping over at your house like this, you'll never get a girlfriend," you mumble while rubbing your eyes. You feel his body stiffen.
"I don't want a girlfriend," he says curtly and you don't push further, though it stings somewhere inside at his firm refusal to be in a relationship. You avert your eyes to the ceiling, while you lie with your hear and shoulders across his chest. His fingers intertwine with yours, across your waist and years of knowing him tells you that he's nervous about something.
"You have pretty fingers," you note abstractly, trying to ease the situation. He laughs silently.
"If we have kids, they should have your cute face and my fingers." Kids? Your eyes widen and your cheeks turn pink at that thought. "We should have two, and we could live in a farmhouse in the countryside."
"How will the kids go to school?" You blurt out.
"Uh! So practical. Fine. We'll live in the city- but we need a dog."
"Brownie!" You stick your tongue out at the thought.
"Okay, brownie." He grins, the tension is now completly dissipated but your heart it thudding so loud you're afraid he can feel it. "Hmm.." he continues, "we can paint our room blue-grey and make the furniture black and white."
"Uh! That is so depressing Baek! Try warm colors, like orange and yellow."
"Sure, that gives me the perfect opportunity to wear my Ray-Bans indoors." You roll your eyes, though you can feel your cheeks getting hot. For a while both of you remain silent, basking in the images in your minds.
"I wish it was real." His voice is a near hesitant whisper. Your breath hitches.
"Me too..." you breathe out shakily. Is that your heart beating earatically or his? For, what seems like years, neither of you moves. Then he slowly rises, putting you in a seated position before reaching out to cup your cheeks with the palms of his hands. Is that nervousness in his eyes? Or the reflection of your own, perhaps, as he slowly pulls in for a kiss. His hands are so gentle, as if he's afraid he might break you with his touch. His lips are soft. As he pulls away, you look into his smiling, unsure eyes, not knowing whether to laugh or cry, but wishing, hoping and praying that every morning was like this one.
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For Ruka,
Hope it isn't a fail :P

The Wu Chronicles: Discord

"Chen, Mei, do you know where-" Meixiang stopped short of finishing her sentence, taking a moment to take in the cherry blossom tree in all its summer glory. Beneath it, Chen lazed, his eyes closed, with his frame rested upon the sturdy trunk. Meilin was swinging gently, a book between two hands as she read, occasionally pausing to turn pages. Meixiang smiled at them. "Have you two seen Yifan," she asked softly, almost afraid to break the spell in Meilin's grove (as they had all come to call it). Almost simultaneously, both shook their head, Chen without opening his eyes and Meilin without lifting hers from the book. Meixiang sighed.
"What are you two doing?" She asked, hoping do distract herself for a few moments.
"Nothing," answered Chen with a yawn. Meilin kicked a tuft of grass and he sneezed.
"You're the one doing nothing," she said with a flick of her hair. Chen shrugged, too lazy to argue.
"Well," said Meixiang, "if you see him, tell him he can't run forever." Meilin looked at her with a sad smile.
"Jie jie, none us of ever see Yifan ge anymore...."
"Not outside of official reasons, that is," added Chen, his eyes trained on Meilin, catching the edge in her voice Meixiang had failed to. Meixiang offered them half a smile before walking away from the grove. She paused again and looked back.
Chen was still reclining against the tree but Meilin had slipped onto the grass, using the swing as a makeshift back-support. Their knees were arched and their toes almost, but just not, touching, seeking comfort in the closeness. Meixiang turned away, suddenly feeling like she was looking at something she shouldn't.
                                                    ---------------------------------
In the War Council room, the Emperor Wu sat, mulling over documents, with deep knit brows. He was alone in the lamp lit room, deep shadows dancing across his face made his frown look deeper than it was.
Meixiang had walked by the room twice before without entering.This time she did. She would forever be amazed at the power and magnetic attraction that radiated from him, then and forever, perhaps, but she knew it wasn't the time to admire him at his work.
"Shengshang," she called, loud enough to make him flinch at the use of the overly polite term.
"Yes?" He asked, although he already knew why she was there. Meixiang walked up to the table, her hands crossed across her chest, a deep frown crossing her forehead.
"Need I remind you what it is?" This time the Emperor did flinch.
"I'd rather you didn't," he murmured darkly. Meixang sighed.
"Yifan..." Her voice spilled over with pleading. Yifan had never been able to resist that, he still tried.
"I can't do this, Xiang," he said softly. If the Emperor could ever beg, this would be it. Meixiang looked at him with a blank face, trying to mask her own feelings in it.
"Do you think I can?" Yifan felt like he had been stabbed through the chest. He rose and wrapped his arms around her frame.
"I have a wife... why would I need another one..." He sighed, more to himself than another. "I'm... sorry.."
"It was decided for you, you don't have a choice," said Meixiang, though her voice was muffled against Yifan's chest.
"I have been trying to look for one..." Meixiang blinked and looked past his arms and her eyes took in the vast amount of paperwork lying upon it. She raised an eyebrow.
"Have you been trying to find a loophole in the treaty?"
"Trying... and failing."
"Well, you can't hope to find one in a pact that says- the eldest son of the Emperor shall marry the daughter of Lord Li, as he upon her coming of age." Yifan sighed at her words.
"It doesn't matter to me, she can come here, but I shall refuse to acknowledge her."
"Yifan-"
"I've made my mind Xiang, nothing can change it." He released her from his hold and went back to his seat. Meixiang allowed a myriad of expressions that had waged war in her mind to flit across her face and wondered if Yifan felt the same or if it was just her emotions reflected in his eyes. She tore her gaze away and left.
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"What's your sister like Chen?"
"I don't know Mei, I haven't seen her in years."
"Oh well, she'll be nice."
"I wouldn't..be so sure...... there's a reason she was sent away to my uncle, instead coming of here."
"Oh..."
"I'm hungry, I'll go, poke around the kitchens."
"Uh! You are such a pig- hey! Wait for me!"
                                               -------------------------------
It wasn't long before Qiuyue, daughter of Lord Li and sister to Prince Chen, became the Emperor's second wife- or at least she was so in name, for Yifan never bothered her a second glance. For her part, it seemed the Princess was hell bent upon making herself an enemy out of everyone, starting from the maids to the Emperor. Whether it was because she was offended at the ignorance or some other thing, she spared no one. Her onslaughts started from her entry into the palace, where she referred to Meixiang as an "old woman" to which Meixiang had had reminded her that they were only two years apart, so it would make Qiuyue an "old and wrinkled woman too". Of course, everyone wondered why Chen and Meilin started coughing violently while hiding their faces. After that, Qiuyue, realising that Meilin was a force to be reckoned with, gave up on her and moved on to easier targets. The first unintended victim was her own brother Chen.
Though brother and sister had been separated for years, Chen had taken no time in warming up to his sister once again, but yet, they still did know each other as well as siblings should. It happened, when, for the first time in a long time, everyone of Meilin's "important" people sat together to eat. Yifan sat at the head of the table, Meixiang on his right, Qiuyue on his left. Meilin sat next to Meixiang, while Yanlin and Suho sat on the new queen's side. Everyone was digging in well, at one point Yifan even paused to compliment the cook, when Chen came rushing in, apologizing for being late, as he took a seat next to Meilin. "I'm famished!"
He said, helping hinsef to twice the normal amount of each dish as if he had not eaten in years. Meilin looked sideways and rolled her eyes at him. Chen took a vegetable mix, wrapped in kuei leaves an bit into it. Almost instantly as she heard a crunch of the leaves, she heard a strangled gasp from Chen. She whipped her head towards him. Chen still had his cheeks puffed with food, while his eyes were brimming with tears and his nose turned red, as his face contorted into a pained grimace. One whiff of the leaf wrapping in his hand and Meilin hurriedly called out to the servants,
"Milk! We need milk now!!" Then she turned to Meixiang and added, "he's eaten a pepper." Meixiang's eyes widened. It was common knowledge that Chen had no tolerance for peppers whatsoever and they had long since asked the cooks to stop using them if they ate together. This mistake was strange, very strange. There was chaos at the table almost instantly as Meixiang ran to the kitchens to admonish the poor cook (who stared wide eyed at the Empress, having no knowledge whatsoever of the presence of the peppers in the food), while Yanlin rushed to the speed the milk delivery and Meilin, Yifan and Suho tried to comfort Chen as he tried to look dignified and refrain from crying because of the burn in his mouth- and miserably failed. Perhaps if they had not been so occupied with him, they would have noticed the flicker of shame and regret in Qiuyue's eyes before she rose from the table and walked out with her nose in the air.
For the next few weeks strange things happened in quick succession that, one day, caused Yanlin to declare, "I think this castle is haunted," as she slipped her arm  through the crook of Suho's elbow. Suho smiled at the familiar touch.
"Why would you say that?" They were walking through the inner courtyard on the way to the library. Yanlin's eyes sparkled as she replied,
"Why would I not! It started with the peppers, then the sugar and salt got switched in the kitchens, after that the oils wen't missing from the lamps and we spent an entire evening wandering around in the dark and- oh! Let's not forget the horses that got mysteriously lose from the stables.... not to mention that is only what I remember at this moment." Suho looked at his wife with a small smile playing on his lips.
"And how much are you hoping for it to be an actual ghost?" He teased. Yanlin looked to the floor in embarrassment.
"Maybe just a little," she admitted shyly. Suho's smile turned into a laugh. Yanlin raised her head to look at him. The bright summer sun made his hair and face glow with an, almost, ethereal aura, as his eyes crinkled into crescents and his warm laughter made Yanlin's cheeks warm. Suho turned to find his wife looking up at him with wide eyes and parted lips, echoing the girl he had met and fallen in love with all those years ago. "You—" There was a deafening crash and Suho stopped mid-sentence. For a moment both stared at each other with wide eyes before exclaiming at the same time- "The library!" And making a swift run for it. It did not take Suho more than a heartbeat to locate the source of the crash. He stared in horror at the mammoth of a bookcase that had toppled over, scattering scrolls and books everywhere. Among that literary mess, Qiuyue stood, looking absolutely unhurt, and staring at the broken case in disdain.
"Are you hurt, Your Majesty?" Asked Suho, his eyes trailing the strewn books. Qiuyue looked at him with a faint note of contempt.
"I am fine. It's a fortune I wasn't killed. You have such flimsy bookcases." Suho's eyes surveyed the torn scrolls with pity.
 "That should not have happened..." he wondered aloud. "They've always been sturdy."
"Really?" Said Qiuyue, "all I did was stumble against one and it toppled over..."
"How could that-" began Yanlin but she was cut off with a wave of Qiuyue's hand.
"Why don't you ask your Emperor, who thinks he can buy everything, to get another one." Suho opened his mouth but someone else beat him to it.
"You broke my table." Yanlin turned to find Meilin behind her, her eyes locked on the wrecked bookcase. For the first time, both Suho and Yanlin noticed a table, which had caught the bookcase's fall, the weight of the latter object having broken a leg and cracked a chunk of the polished wood. Images of three children sitting at the table danced before their eyes and a wave of sadness overcame them. Yanlin raised an arm to touch Meilin's shoulder, but Meilin stepped away to avoid her comfort.
 "You... broke it." She said, her voice dangerously low and her face devoid of any emotion at all. Qiuyue shrugged her shoulders.
"Get another one."
Meilin looked at her and then turned away, muttering a soft, "I wish my brother never got you," before walking out. Suho and Yanlin stared after her as Meilin walked out briskly, before reaching the courtyard and breaking into a run. Eyes blinded by loose hair and tears, she crashed into a firm chest.
"Mei?" Chen blinked in surprise at the figure against his chest. She looked up at him with a tear streaked face, for a second Chen was taken aback before she pushed him, roughly, out of her way and stormed away, leaving him confused. He looked in the direction of the library, hoping someone might tell him something, and knowing it would be useless to talk to Meilin when she was enraged.
The carnage met his eyes when he stepped into the library. He saw Suho and Yanlin looking everywhere but at him. He saw the wreckage of the table and knew Meilin's heart would have shattered into thousands of fragments at the sight of it. Finally, he saw his sister, starting at the same wreck with unabashed contempt. It did not take him long to come to a conclusion. There really had been a reason his sister was sent away. As she looked up to meet his eyes, Chen wondered what hell they had brought upon themselves.
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To Suho oppa, 
Saengil Chukahamnida! (^_^)/ 
This is my birthday gift to you. 

 Thanks to the real Qiuyue jie, for the roots of idea of this story and for finding me a leafy vegetable (kuei) for me to get Chen to bite into. Xie xie, wo ai ni jie!! ^^ 
Also thanks to the real Meixiang Jie and Yanlin, who review my story. 

Read and review please~
ElfinJoy.