before the sun rises
your answer was yes.
↳ exlovers!au
◊ pairing: park chanyeol | reader
◊ genre: angst
◊ word count: 1.5k
◊ warnings: none
◊ author’s note: this is a little drabble from my old blog and based off of a vignette from almost maine, enjoy!
The cold air nipped at your bare legs, fall making a slow transition to winter.
Walking up the familiar pavement of the house you’ve spent a good few years of your life in, your hands started to shake, nerves or cold weather, you had no idea.
Mindless pacing in the designated car parking space with your handbag was slightly unnecessary, especially seeing how it was nearly four in the morning. The green door was mere feet away from you, a simple press of the doorbell would bring you face to face with someone you longed for yet at the same time wanted to avoid.
That stupid green door.
Holding so many memories, decorating it with lights and bad snowflake cutouts, pumpkin decals and fake zombies that would make noise at any motion.
You hated and loved that green door. The one that he proposed to you in front of.
Sucking in a deep breath, you mustered up all the courage you had and pressed the small button next to the door.
“Just a minute,” a rough voice said from the other side. You were surprised that he was awake at this time, but knowing him, he probably never went to sleep anyway.
The door was opened and you were brought in front of an unfamiliar chest.
Closing your eyes, you took in another big deep breath.
“I know I’m probably the last person you want to see, but I had to come. I took a taxi here all the way from Busan. To see you. I forget what it’s like here sometimes. It’s different from the city and I’ve only been gone a year.
Sometimes it’s really hard over there. I made new friends but I’m still alone. And we never had any proper closure. I felt like I had no purpose and I felt lost, and so I came back. Sorry it was a really rash decision. Thank goodness you-” stopping and finally taking a good look at the man in front of you, your realized that this wasn’t who you were looking for. He was tall, with glasses perched on his nose and his hood placed over a mop of light purple hair.
“You… you? You’re not Park Chanyeol are you?” stumbling over your words your eyes widened when you realized you might have just been rambling unnecessarily to some stranger.
“God, I’m so sorry. I thought you were Chanyeol. I guess he doesn’t live here anymore though…” your voice dropped slightly at this, shoulders sagging in disappointment.
“You’re looking for… Chanyeol?” the man finally spoke, unknowing of what else to say.
“Yeah, Park Chanyeol. Hey, just don’t tell anyone, okay? I probably seem desperate or something to you. Wait! You might know him though! He’s like this tall,” you said, holding a hand not that far above your head, “And skinny. And he plays basketball. Do you know him?”
“Uh…” the man spoke once more, confusion laced in his tone.
“Wait, don’t answer. That wasn’t a very smart question. We might be in the countryside but you probably don’t know everyone. I don’t even live here anymore, he might’ve moved too.”
“You don’t know that…”
“No, he probably did move. But that’s really sad. This house has so many memories. Like we painted the door green when his parents passed away. And he said he was gonna stay in this house forever. He lived here, I thought he stayed here. Probably wanted to get away from some of the bad memories…” You started off, your words slowly becoming to a soft mutter, mostly talking to yourself. “I didn’t stay either, though. I went.”
“Most people do,” his rough voice had a somewhat familiar tone to it, something you hadn’t heard in a long time.
Home. This stranger sounded like home.
“I can’t believe I took a taxi here. I forgot how far away this town can be. We’re basically in the middle of nowhere. God, getting back to Busan will be hard.”
“Yeah, Busan’s a bit far,” he said, running a hand through his hair and down the side of his face. You automatically felt bad, realizing you disturbed this stranger’s sleep only to unload all your emotions on to him.
“It is,” you said in a feeble attempt to try and make the conversation die down.
“That’s over 300 kilometers… Why’d you go there?” again, you couldn’t really stop talking. Not when this was your only chance at closure or something of the sort, even if it was with a stranger.
“Busan is the closest and farthest place I can get from here. I wanted to leave at the time, but now I wanted to get back as soon as I could.”
“Why?”
“He asked me a very important question.”
“Oh?”
“He asked me to marry him… I told him I’d have an answer before the sun came up, but I didn’t. I was supposed to leave the next morning. I never answered him and it’s been a year, I just wanted to talk to him,” you muttered, shifting from side to side in hopes of making yourself seem less like an idiot.
“That’s… not very nice.”
“I know,” you suddenly snapped. Realizing how harsh you might’ve sounded, you ran a hand through you hair, ruining the perfect bun you had spent a good three minutes on. “I know, it’s haunted me every day over there. I don’t know why I just decided to do something about it.”
“That sounds like an answer to me,” the stranger said, once again giving you his input.
“It wasn’t! I just… I think he thought I’d say yes.”
“Well, when a guy gets down on a knee and asks you to marry him he’d assume you’d say yes.”
“I know,” you softly began, “I know. But I’m scared he’s been waiting for me for all this time, but I know a small part of me just hopes he did. But he’s not here, so I guess he didn’t.”
“Did you love him?”
“I did. I do. I always have. I feel like I dashed his dreams,” you said.
“I think you give yourself too much credit. He was probably young—you still look young, unless you were dating a guy ten years older than you he was probably still young. You probably didn’t really dash his hopes, you never said ‘no.’ You never said anything. It’s painful, but it’s not death. Not when you never said ‘no.’” the stranger said, which was the most you’ve heard him say for the whole thirty minutes you’ve been standing on his front porch.
“Yeah… Well, thank you,” you said after a long pause, unsure of what to say.
“For what?”
“I don’t know. I should just get going,” you grabbed your bag from the floor and started to move down the walkway.
“Goodbye, (Y/N),” you heard behind you.
“Goodbye… Ugh! I’m so sorry for ranting about everything and just dumping all my emotions on you. I probably disturbed your sleep. That’s the worst! I realized everything without Yeol wasn’t going how I wanted it to and-“ you paused mid sentence, eyes widening even more. “You called me (Y/N), how do you know me?”
A small but tired smile made its way onto the strangers face, and be removed his glasses from its spot on his nose and the hood covering his hair.
“Hi, (Y/N).”
“Yeol… I didn’t-”
“I know.”
“I didn’t… I didn’t recognize you.”
“I know.”
“You’re so…”
“I know,” he once more repeated.
“Tall,” you said with finality.
“Yeah. I ate a lot. Exercised a lot. Puberty decided to hit me really late.”
“Chanyeol, I’m so sorry. I never meant to leave without saying anything, I was just surprised and stressed and I just…” you huffed out, tears collecting in your eyes. “I’m sorry I was so late.”
“Shh, it’s okay. You’re not late. In fact you’re early,” he said softly, gesturing toward the sky while grinning, however making no move to go closer to you. “The sun hasn’t risen yet.”
“Oh… you’re right. It hasn’t.”
“So… a taxi from Busan… to tell me?”
“Y-“ you were about to say, but was interrupted by a third voice.
“Yeol? Sweetie? What’re you doing out there? Who’s there?”
“Just a moment, honey. I’ll be right in,” he replied back, not missing a beat. “I…”
“What?” you said, an unexpected harshness in your tone.
“I hope you find it. Your place in this world. Goodbye, (Y/N),” Chanyeol said one last time, before turning and walking inside. Catching his eyes once more as he closed the door, you gave him a single nod and mouthed a small ‘Goodbye’.
Standing in his parkway for what seemed like an eternity, you finally grabbed the handle of your bag and walked down. Before you reached for your phone, prepared to call for a taxi, you cast one last look at the house, and at the stupid green door that held so many memories.
Including this last one.
“Yes…” you exhaled into the winter breeze. “Yes.”