❛ you're completely out of your element here, aren't you? ❜
[ from lín yàn ! don't worry, he's here to ( probably ) help c: ]
from here.
once upon a time, the idea of being in a packed bar show would have thrilled sungyeol. to disappear into a crowd, to get swept up in the bass, to let his body move with like-minded strangers. it used to feel electric. he used to feel alive.
now, it feels like a specially tailored brand of hell — a punishing, inescapable loop built specifically for sam. he's not even sure how many songs he actually managed to stick around for before his body makes the decision for him, shoving his way through sweaty, drunk bodies to make his way outside. the cool outdoor air crashes into him like a freezing cold wave, but it isn't as relieving as he hoped.
his fingers are trembling, trying to get his damn lighter to work to light a cigarette he doesn't remember pulling out when a voice startles him. the lighter slips from his fingers and clatters against the pavement, the sharp sound slicing through his already frayed nerves.
“ shit—-” he hisses, crouching to grab it. every movement feels too fast, too slow, too much.
“ hot in there. overstimulating, y'know. ” he tries to brush it off casually, but the shake in his voice is undeniable. when the flame finally catches and he manages a drag of his smoke, feels the burn of it in his chest, he calms just enough to really process what's happening. “ ...d'you follow me out here? ”
