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yandereshit

Nov 6, 2022

an-annyeoing-writer

Chanyeol x Reader: pyrophobic.

Part One of Nine

Genre: powers!AU

Rating: +16

Release date: 6th Nov. 2022

Word count: 7 173

Warnings: mentions of death & depressive thoughts

He stumbled through the night, tearing apart its dark and coldness. The world surrounding him crumbled in front of his eyes, shattering into pieces. Or was it his world shattering? Maybe, he thought, that was what he was meant to become. Ashes left of what he used to be, of the human he once was. He didn’t feel like a person anymore.

These were his last thoughts before the world he hated exploded around him, swallowing him whole.

“Are you sleeping?”

You raised your head abruptly. Your classmate stared at you with his head tilted to the side.

“Huh? Am I?”

Baekhyun – said classmate – laughed quietly at your confused tone, but then his face tensed at the stern look the professor shot at the two of you. He hung his head low in shame, waiting for the teacher to look away, and then glanced at you, stifling laughter once again. You rolled your eyes.

“What are we at?”

“This part.” He pushed the textbook in front of you. You attempted to read the sentence in front of you a few times before your sleepy mind managed to – although barely – get it through your head.

You sighed and glanced up. Your professor’s words were further and further away, and your consciousness slipped away once again.

“You’re overworked these days, aren’t you?”

The two of you were sitting in a huge garden in the middle of the university’s grounds, lazily munching on your lunches. Baekhyun almost finished his, and you slowly took in your own, but as you still had almost half hour of a break left, none of you worried about how long it would yet take. The university had this clever idea of having a forty-five minutes break in the middle of the day, officially for the professors, but practically as a lunch break for everyone. The university’s cafeteria was, however, so occupied at that time, that bringing your own lunch was the best idea.

“I’m not. Not really. The semester just started, we don’t have that much to do yet” you shrugged. “I mean, in comparison to how much spare time I have, it’s really not much. I’m just… Dunno. I’m having that weird, uneasy feeling these days. Hard time sleeping, too.”

“Uneasy feeling, huh?” The man rested chin on his hand, playing with the remains of rice in his lunch box, digging sticks into it and then flipping over countless amount of times, at which you stared, curious how long would it take before he’d accidentally flip the rice out of the box. “Maybe it’s the weather?”

“You think we’ll get a tornado?”

“You’re so stupid.”

Catching a bit of rice in the sticks, he threw it at you. It hit your shirt and fell off, so you didn’t even have to move to get it off. You sighed, as if it didn’t bother you at all; you were too deep in thoughts, in fact, to care.

“Seriously though, there had been a huge fire nearby my place.”

“But they put it down, didn’t they?” Baekhyun stared at you expectantly.

“Yeah, and it was some abandoned factory, there were only a few homeless men inside but they all got out when it started to spread.”

“You’ve read into it?”

“I saw the fire there the night before yesterday, it was scary” you huffed, crossing your arms and leaning on the table in front of you.

“How come? Wasn’t it quite far from your place?”

“Safely far enough, but it just… It made me uneasy.”

“I see.”

It had been barely a month ever since you started living alone. You liked it, you could say; the independence and possibility to stay away from your family house without feeling like something’s missing. All of your things were in this small flat in a district of closed factories and old tenement houses. A poor neighborhood, probably not the safest, but you weren’t anywhere close to being rich yourself. What you had, was more than enough.

You laid on the couch that served you as a bed at night, since there was only one small room in your apartment, and the second-hand couch was the cheapest thing you found. It was late afternoon, with the sky already covering in shades of red and violets. The sight behind your window reminded you of the glow that you saw two nights ago; the scary thing that kept you awake for hours, which you spent doing as much as you could – looking for news online. The news of fire mixed with the news of other tragedies, and there were many happening in the past few weeks, if not months. Spending hours reading about murders, attacks, even things as otherworldly, in your perception, as companies getting their systems hijacked – a common occurrence lately – had your anxiety spiraling to the levels where even, if you managed to get some sleep, it wouldn’t feel peaceful at all.

Now, days later, you still felt restless.

Sudden knocking on your door didn’t surprise you. Although you had no clue who could be in there, it was as though you spent all this time only waiting for it to echo in your flat.

You stared at your room’s ceiling for some more time, as if the sound didn’t faze you. Only when it echoed once again, had you realized that you should get up and answer whoever tried to get inside your flat.

You stood up from your spot without hurry; your body felt sluggish, because you almost fell asleep while resting. You opened the door without checking the peephole.

A man hovered above you, with his arm resting against the door frame, his eyes hazy, his face covered in dirt, just like his clothes and hands, mixed with blood from small cuts on literally every surface of his skin that you saw. You froze, staring at him in utter shock.

“[F/n]?”

The husky voice, followed by a cough, tore you out of your daze.

“Y-yes? Who are you? How do you know my name? What happened to you…?” The questions spilled out of your mouth even before you could fully think them over. Should you close the door as soon as possible, because the man could be dangerous? You probably should. You would, but not with how your chest clenched at his pained expression, at exhaustion and fatigue visible in his whole composure.

“He told me I can trust you” the man whispered.

And then his legs suddenly gave underneath him, and the only thing that saved him from hitting your apartment’s floor with his head were your arms, extended to keep him from hurting himself while falling.

You managed to sit calmly in your chair only for seven minutes and fifty three seconds. That was the time when the constant ticking of your clock started to drive you crazy and you stood up, starting to pace around the room for a change. Your eyes darted to the silhouette occupying your very own couch; the man with many wounds, none of which, fortunately, seemed lethal. You barely managed to pull him all the way to the damn couch and you needed to rest a little before deciding what to do. Because you had, clearly, no idea.

Six more minutes and you sat back down. You glanced at your phone. Should you call someone? Police? Ambulance? It seemed to you as though the man didn’t want any of these, but, to be honest, was it any of your business? Probably not.

You totally didn’t feel like dealing with it alone, so you dialed number of the only person you could trust right now.

But, as if the entire universe was now against you, Baekhyun simply didn’t answer. There was a long silence after his chirpy voicemail instructed you to leave a message after a signal, which you shut down with a red button. You were alone, it seemed. You shot him a short message asking to call you back ASAP and then put the phone down. What now?

Your gaze was stuck on the man lying in your very own bed. His chest moved heavily, his face scrunched in pain. His hair was dirty from dark dust that hid its usual color completely; the same sort of dust covered most of his clothes and face, getting all over your mattress, which you only briefly cringed at – it wasn’t that important now. The blood was dried. And there was also smell: smell of burn, along with one that you couldn’t know, but you could instinctively tell, these weren’t just his clothes that caught on fire.

Fire.

You gulped at the sudden thought that appeared in your mind.

“No. No way. No fucking way.”

He looked like a victim, no matter how you looked at it. Like someone who’d been caught in the fire, maybe trapped somewhere with no escape. How come he didn’t die – you didn’t know. How come he appeared here so suddenly, after a few days had passed – you couldn’t know either. You just had a feeling that you knew, why he decided not to go straight into a hospital, and why he seemed not to want to be found.

God. You couldn’t deal with it now. You needed to clear your mind.

He didn’t seem like he’d wake up anytime soon. So you got up, put on your shoes and left, supposedly to breath in the fresh air, and just hoping so that upon going back, he’d have left your place, sparing you from the trouble you didn’t necessarily want for yourself.

The weather outside was rather chill; in the distance, the sun already hid behind the buildings, and all you could see were pastel colors of the sky above. There were dozens of sounds surrounding you – mainly birds and cars, sometimes the people you passed, although in this area there weren’t too many to begin with. The wind made you regret not taking a hoodie, but you knew you wouldn’t spend too much here now. You just wanted to take a few minutes; you were more than aware that leaving a stranger alone in your very own apartment was not the wisest idea.

You didn’t spend outside even five minutes – that was as long as you could take before going back home. You entered your flat.

There was a quiet voice echoing in your room and you headed straight there.

The man was sitting on your bed with your own phone pressed against his ear, clearly aware that you arrived, but not paying you much attention. But, before he could say anything more – you wished you eavesdropped a bit, but now it was too late – you pulled the phone out of his hand and ended the call without looking at the caller’s ID.

“You don’t touch what’s not yours without asking” you scolded him, pushing the phone into your pocket. The man’s hand was still raised from where he held the phone as he glanced up at you coldly, although deciding not to argue. He dropped his hand and shifted on your bed a little as you crossed your arms, staring down at him, clearly upset. “Who are you?”

“Chanyeol” he replied simply. Good, at the very least, he offered an answer.

“Why are you here?”

“Because you let me in, I suppose” he answered, leaning back against the backrest of the couch, a small, annoying smirk in the corner of his lips.

“…Yes, but why did you come here” you specified.

“I was told I can trust you.” You did, in fact, hear him say it earlier.

“How about you trust a hospital, hm?” You smiled politely, noting how his face tensed tiredly, a blood drop trickling form his nostril. He could have had some internal injuries, and you were in no place to deal with it. You reached to your phone again. “I assure you that doctors can take better care of you than I do.”

“If you make this phone call, I’m going to burn your flat down before they arrive. Put the fucking phone down” he spoke slowly. There was no ounce of amusement on his face anymore – only danger: his eyes pierced through you, confirming the honesty of his threat.

You gulped, hiding the phone back in your pocket; it must have calmed him down enough because his face relaxed visibly. Your own nervousness decreased in result.

“Okay, so… What are you going to do? Should I call a taxi instead? You can go anywhere, I will pay, just…”

“He said I can trust you” he fixated his gaze on you, as though judging whether you were, in fact, trust-worthy. You couldn’t stand this gaze. You glanced down. “I know it must be confusing to you, but I won’t stay here too long. I have no other place to go.”

You pressed your lips together.

“What about the person you were talking to just now? If you need to, I can let you call them again. Can’t they, dunno, pick you up and take you home, or something?”

He stared at you blankly.

“Check your phone.”

That took you aback, but you obediently reached to the device, opening it and entering the phone-calls history.

The last call, lasting not even half of a minute, had the caller’s ID – “Baekhyun” – on it. You let out a gasp, pressing the green button on the screen and putting it by your ear.

“You wait here,” you instructed the man – Chanyeol – and left the room, closing the door behind and entering the small kitchen, hoping that maybe even though the privacy of this solution was limited, you’d at least be able to focus without the man’s silhouette making you nervous with every move he made.

There was a few long beeps before the call was answered.

“Baekhyun?”

“[F/n]? Are you okay?”

You pressed your lips together; what did Chanyeol tell him – you had no idea. But Baekhyun didn’t seem nervous, his question was kind and heartwarming, just like he always was.

“I’m sorry, I went out for a moment and forgot to take the phone.” You were silent for a second. “Can you come here? I think, um… I need your help.”

“Now?”

“Yes.”

“I’m a little tied up at the moment, but I should be free in an hour, so I could be there, uh, in like two hours?”

Why didn’t he even mention the fact that his phone-call was answered by a stranger, you couldn’t tell. Maybe Chanyeol introduced himself as your friend and managed to do it smoothly enough so that Baekhyun had no suspicions?

But then, you thought, what if he was more dangerous than you estimated, what if Baekhyun coming here would only fuel him, cause him to become a threat to the both of you?

“[F/n]? Are you there?”

You exhaled shakily.

“Y-yes. No, never mind, I’m sorry for bothering you. Don’t come, I will handle this for now, just, uh, make sure to have your phone around, could you…?”

“Of course. I’m sorry, I really need to go now. But, um. Some things are not as bad as they look. Cheer up!” Easier said than done.

“Thank you, Baek. See you around.”

And the phone-call ended.

You put the phone back in your pocket – you didn’t know when you’d suddenly need it again. You stood where you were for a few long moments, hesitating. You knew you should go back to your room – talk to the stranger a bit more, find out more, learn what he expects and how can you get rid of him as fast as possible. After a few more seconds, you decided to take cookies resting in one of the drawers – not because you were being nice, but because they were there for way too long, and you didn’t even know why you bought them, you didn’t like this flavor at all.

With cookies in your hand, you entered your room and threw the pack at the man.

“Thanks” he mumbled, a bit taken aback by your sudden display of kindness.

“Okay. How long do you plan to stay here?

For the next few moments, rustling of the cookie bag was the only reply you could count on. But you waited patiently, and soon enough, Chanyeol spoke.

“Give me three days, alright?”

You let out a deep breath.

“Two.”

He stared back at you, slightly challenging.

“Three.”

You squinted your eyes at him, but before you could say something he continued.

“I can’t go anywhere until I recover. If I manage to get there sooner, I’ll just leave. But I can’t tell for sure how long it’ll take. You can tell I’m not in exactly the best state right now.” He moved just a little, exposing a bit of his chest – a deep purple bruise forming there, one you haven’t seen before, but it seemed to back up his point well enough.

“Alright. But you’re going to listen to what I say and not go out. I don’t want anyone to see you and think I’m engaged in… whatever the hell you’re involved in.” You waved your hand. “And you’re not going to ruin my flat when I’m not here, either. Got it?”

“I won’t cause trouble,” he tried to sound convincing.

You only laughed hysterically at that.

“Sure. Now get in the shower, you stink like a three days old barbecue.”

After your emotions fell down a little, you found yourself not half as mean as you were just minutes earlier. The defensive barrier of sarcasm and rudeness finally gave in and you were too tired to argue about anything, anyway. You even borrowed some big sized shirt and pants from an elderly lady that lived vis-à-vis (they belonged to her son who visited at times, she said). But it was clear that the man needed more than just a decent appearance and a heartfelt talk – first of all, he needed his injuries patched up, and there was quite a lot to patch up.

You couldn’t tell if any of his bones were broken. His breathing was labored as he sat there in a daze, drifting off as you tried to patch up his wounds. His skin was warm – warmer than average, and you assumed his body was trying to fight infections. But none of the wounds seemed infected, and he got most of the dust and ash out of them during the shower, giving you a clear sight of each as you disinfected them carefully – you had no idea, if there was any serious injury that demanded more attention than what you could give, but Chanyeol didn’t voice any concerns, quietly taking in your help, only flinching a little when some of the wounds were a bit more painful to touch.

Once, it turned out your first aid kit kept at home was not enough to patch up everything, and you ended up going out and buying a whole stash of bandages and some other supplies you found useful, including painkillers and some antibiotics, and eventually decided to add a pack of dissolvable vitamin pills; you weren’t sure what vitamins he’d need in his condition, but you figured that any would help at least a bit. Chanyeol took every pill you gave him, not questioning them, and drank the vitamins, and when you said he has to drink a lot of water now, he’d go and fill a cup with tap water every hour or so, and you were thankful that he wasn’t acting fussy for no reason. It gave you hope that his recovery would last only as much as necessary, without any delays caused by his recklessness.

For the night, you went to another neighbor and asked them for a spare mattress, since you were “having a guest over”. Luckily, they had one, and you said you’d give it back soon. Not wanting it to get dirty, you stubbornly decided to be the one using it for the time being. Chanyeol stayed on the couch instead, and, hours before you, he already decided to fall asleep, with his back facing you, your blanket too short to cover his entire, lengthy silhouette.

It must have been over midnight already. A couple of hours had passed ever since the mysterious stranger stumbled into your flat, and the variety of emotions that you felt through this time, from shock, objection, sympathy and until sweet acceptance left you so worn out that you were about to fall asleep where you were. That was when your phone vibrated in your pocket, and you reached to it in confusion. The caller’s ID was the same as what you’d expect any other day – you felt like at some point, Baekhyun became sincerely the only person you ever talked to. You glanced up at the huge silhouette in your bed, and then got up, walking quietly to the kitchen before pressing the green button.

“[F/n]?”

“Baekhyun? Aren’t you asleep?” You glanced at the clock, only confirming that it’s way beyond the both of your bedtime.

“Aren’t you? Did I wake you up?”

“Um, no.” You sat on the floor against the counter. “Is everything alright? I mean it is kinda late now.”

“I wanted to check on you. I’m sorry I didn’t really have time earlier, but you sounded distraught. I actually expected it to keep you up, you didn’t sleep too well lately either way,” he explained.

You sighed. Should you tell him all of this? Or should you just tell him you’re fine? Could you even handle this on your own? You felt as if, once Chanyeol leaves, and you would be left alone, you’d always question yourself about what exactly happened, and if you had no one to rely on in all of this, it would only get worse on you.

“I’m okay, but… There’s actually something going on. But I’m not sure if I can share it. I don’t want to bother you with it, either, but just, I want you to know that something’s up.”

“You want me to worry about you?”

“Kinda. I guess. I mean I don’t think I’m in danger…” Weren’t you? Hopefully. “But it’s sudden and I feel kinda lonely in it. So thank you for checking on me.”

“Of course. Are you sure there’s nothing I can do? I want to help.” His calm tone didn’t match the way he usually spoke, but you appreciated it. Usually, Baekhyun’s way of cheering people up was to behave silly and try to get them to laugh. But he also knew when it wasn’t the right thing to do.

“Just check on me once in a while, okay?”

“Well, I hope to check on you tomorrow morning, on the lecture.”

Ah, right.

“Yeah. See you there, then. Go to sleep though, or you won’t wake up.”

He laughed gently.

“Sure. You too. Sleep well, [F/n].”

You were slightly concerned about leaving Chanyeol alone in your apartment for the hours to come, but he’d behaved nothing but gentle like a sheep, doing exactly what you told him to and not doing anything that could potentially cause damage, even if he had literally nothing else to do. He was still worn out and barely moved at all, in fact, you felt as though he wouldn’t cause much damage even if he wanted. Ultimately, you left him with food and medicine, giving him very simple but precise directions as to what to do until you came back.

“Do you have a spare phone?” he asked as you were about to leave to class.

“Spare phone?”

“If I needed anything. Just in case.”

You were thinking for a few moments.

“I mean, I have a landline phone in the hall, if you didn’t notice, but I’m not sure if it works, it’s on the flat’s owner. But I don’t think anything better than that, and I definitely don’t have time to check it now.” You glanced at the clock on the wall. Chanyeol only observed as you walked around the room, picking your last belongings. “I’ll leave you my number if you need anything. Please don’t do pranks on people when I’m gone.”

Despite leaving in a relative peace, it would be too optimistic to expect not to think about him the moment your classes started. Baekhyun sat next to you in the class, sending you glances once in a while, but since you arrived basically last minute, you didn’t have the actual time to talk just yet. You were distraught and it showed, and Baekhyun only waited until the class was finally over, turning in your direction and staring at you with concern written all over his face. The next class would be in the same room, so you had the comfort of not having to move from your spots.

“Are you okay?” he asked. You stared back, leaning chin on your palm.

“Yeah, I think so. Just tired.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to tell me what’s going on?”

You contemplated it for a few moments.

You didn’t feel like you were that close with Baekhyun, as to engage him in everything that happened to you. You had no idea how he’d react. Yet, he was the closest person that you had. But that was, exactly, the reason why you didn’t want to accidentally ruin this friendship.

“I don’t know. I kinda do. But I don’t want to do the wrong thing.”

“I totally understand that, but you do look like you need to talk it out.”

You let out a deep sigh. What to do?

“Maybe next time. I feel like I need to be very careful with it.”

He nodded slowly.

“Alright.”

“Oh, by the way.” Something came to your mind, Baekhyun looked at you curiously. “You called me back earlier, but I didn’t pick the phone at that time, did someone else?” Did he talk to Chanyeol in the end? He didn’t really mention it. But you were sure that Chanyeol did say something into the speaker, right before you entered the room.

Baekhyun’s eyes widened ever so slightly, his hand, fiddling with a pen, freezing mid-air. He didn’t answer for a few seconds.

“…No, I don’t think so,” he eventually said. “Why? Did someone take your phone?”

Now it was your time to panic slightly.

“Um, just… someone was around, just wanted to know. But if nothing happened, then it’s alright.”

Baekhyun nodded slowly.

The room’s door opened, letting in the next teacher. It was still a few minutes left before the next class, but everyone already hushed a little, as if intimidated; the usual, but the professor sent everyone a reassuring nod, meaning that you still have a moment of freedom left.

But, you already felt torn out of context of the previous topic, and so seemed Baekhyun, focused on his studying notes, surprisingly (as for him) deciding to revise them before the class started.

The day passed by rather quickly – unable to focus on anything that the class consisted of, it turned out you dozed off more often than not. Before you realized, it was already afternoon, and it was the time to go back home – to whatever would you see, once you arrived.

You hoped everything would be okay. If the situation didn’t change in comparison to how you left it, then everything would be good, and it would probably stay this way till the three days’ period came to an end.

The weather was warm, way warmer than yesterday – it was actually very sunny, with close to no wind at all. Everything seemed still, like a pan just warming up before frying, warmth erupting from the ground warmed up through the whole day, never cooling down. You didn’t have air conditioning, but the walls of the apartment were always cold, so you knew it would still be cool in there, as long as you got there before frying yourself.

At least you hoped so; the staircase was so chill that you instantly put on your hoodie that you’ve been carrying in your hands until then. The coolness wasn’t as comfortable as you deemed it to be, you concluded.

Then, you opened the door, and it was anything but cold inside.

You panicked. The inside of your apartment felt warm like a kitchen during cooking – except there was no smell of food to accompany that. No smell of burning was present either, which calmed you down; did the stranger turn the heater on? For what? You marched inside, earning to find out what exactly happened.

You could hear the shower running right after you entered the apartment; you closed the door behind, but it quickly started feel like in a sauna, so you ran to open the windows in each of the rooms – it wasn’t all that colder outside, but it had to do. The air felt thick.

“Chanyeol?!” you called out, knocking on the bathroom’s door. No reply came. Was he taking a shower?

But the sound was still – the water ran without any sounds of splashes or disruptions, as if the showerhead was left in one place and nothing was moving underneath.

Despite the thoughts of what it could lead to, you decided to open the door.

The inside was a literal sauna, the wave of warmth made you dizzy, but the sight in front of you made you dismiss the discomfort right away. Your breath hitched, a nervous sensation filling your stomach.

Chanyeol was sitting in the shower, leaning against the wall, his eyes closed. His clothes were still on, but they were soaked through, and since he didn’t close the shower’s door, the water was splattered everywhere around. And it was hot, terribly hot.

You got to him in less than a second, reaching to turn the shower off – the water running was cold, but… only until it touched him. The heat radiated from him, too strong to be cooled down by the water; too strong even for you to touch – you hissed when your fingers brushed over his skin, and moved your hand away.

The man finally opened his eyes, glancing weakly at you, but, as much as you wanted to ask questions, you were completely speechless. The heat made your head spin.

“What’s going on?!” you uttered out.

He stared at you for a few painfully long seconds.

“Get out of here,” he finally managed to say. “Get out. Hurry.”

Before you managed to form a response, his shirt suddenly took on fire, making you let out a shriek and scramble backwards. The room filled with steam, water not warming up anymore – it was boiling, turning into vapor even before it managed to touch him. Too hot, it was too hot, you felt like you were burning alive.

Chanyeol let out a cry when the fire started to spread over his silhouette, and you felt like there was nothing you can do – too hot, even the water couldn’t put him out, not strong enough to fight against the amount of heat, evaporating mid-air.

You screamed when you realized that the nearby towel took on the fire as well, and except for heat, it was the smoke that started to bother you, not tearing into your lungs just yet, but making you realize that the longer you stayed, the more dangerous it would become.

But how could you leave?!

Through the fire and smoke spreading around, you couldn’t see Chanyeol’s face anymore, and it terrified you.

He was burning, he was literally burning alive in front of your eyes. God, if there was one, at least one thing you could do to help him – you would not hesitate. But the fear froze you to the ground, and you weren’t able to think straight, so even if there was the smallest thing you could actually do – it was out of your reach.

Completely stunned and terrified, you didn’t hear the sound behind you; it appeared out of nowhere, and then a sudden grasp on your shoulder pulled you backwards, throwing you on the floor of your hall.

“Stay back.”

Someone ran inside of the bathroom, the door shutting behind them.

You expected noise – any sort of sound, a scream, maybe, or things flying around, anything. You stared at the door, hearing the sound of fire, air still hot and filled with smoke, although dispersed now that you weren’t in the bathroom anymore.

And, despite everything that you’d expected, after barely a few seconds, everything started to die out.

The sounds decreased, the smoke dissolved in the air as it wasn’t spreading anymore. The temperature started decreasing, so suddenly that you felt dizzy, too dizzy to move; you half-laid there on the floor, your arms trembling, but stuck in place, supporting you – even if you wanted to lie down, you wouldn’t find it in yourself to.

The temperature must have still been over twenty degrees Celsius, when you started to shiver from sudden cold.

And it only got colder. Colder and colder, the temperature continued to drop.

It must have been around ten degrees, when the door to the bathroom finally opened again.

The man standing in the door had all your attention, keeping you from looking past him, fearful of what you’d see. Was he alive? Was he burned to ashes? What happened? Why was it cold? Who was this man?

His cat-like eyes stared at you for a few seconds, a bit curiously, but with concern as well. He smiled gently.

“Hi there. My name is Minseok.”

You stared at him, dumbfounded.

“[F/n],” you uttered out.

And then the world went black.

His consciousness disappeared and came back too often for him to get a solid grasp of reality.

One moment, everything was okay. The next – he was burning up. Hot, hotter, heat spreading from his core till the tips of his fingers.

Hot, too hot to stand it. He needed to cool down.

The moments in between the few memories that he had were unknown. He remembered reaching the phone in the hall, but he didn’t remember what he did after. He remembered sitting under the shower, and the cold water splashing from the shower head gave him some relief, at least for some time, before it became useless.

And then he saw that girl come in, and he panicked. Everything was a blur, but knowing she’s there made it only worse. Whatever happened, he couldn’t hurt her.

He told him he can trust her. So Chanyeol couldn’t let anything bad happen to her.

The next thing he remembered was the fire around him, and he wanted to cry.

It’s happening again. Oh, god. Oh, no. Not here, not again.

Then, again – nothing. Did he say something? He heard his own voice in the distance, but that, also, was a blur.

The pain of his body burning alive was so well-known by now that it didn’t bother him anymore. But, hell, was he scared. What would he destroy now? Whom would he hurt? Would he survive this? Would he find his way out?

Or would he just burn altogether, turn into ashes?

Suddenly, he felt cold – distant at first, but he could feel it there, something breaking through the inferno that he was stuck in. Deeper, deeper, finally reaching his chest. He wanted to cry in relief, but his eyes were dry, any moisture having evaporated a while ago. And he was too weak to move, his consciousness dissolving again.

Appearing again. It was almost cool, it’s so relieving, so good, no more heat, no more hell.

And it’s gone.

The moment he woke up again, a familiar silhouette stood above his own. It was cold, although his nerves became numb at this stage. So good, not to feel that pain anymore, even if it meant nothing.

“Chanyeol? Can you hear me?”

Minseok crouched down in front of him, touching his shoulder to get his attention. It was unnecessary – he was all in Chanyeol’s range of sight anyway.

“I’m here” he confirmed; his voice sounded terrible, probably due to his throat being drier than ever.

“Can you get up?” the question came.

“Have a wild guess.”

“Then stay here. Will bring you water.”

He glanced over his head, but the bathroom devices had been either burned to ashes or melted. The tile around him was burned too – only at the surface, though, at the very least, not risking damage to the construction. Everything else, though, was burned, melted, destroyed – the few remaining items were the door that didn’t manage to catch the fire just yet, but neither the drawers or the washing machine were that lucky. The damage would be costly and take a while to fix – he only hoped that the pipes didn’t suffer much damage.

The smoke already mostly dissolved, as the windows must have been opened outside, he noticed now – the fresh air coming in fast, soothing his lungs.

The pain came back as his adrenaline started to run out; the burns on his body were incomparable to what they should be with the temperature he was put under, but they were still there – he could stand fire far better than anyone else, but he wasn’t completely immune. The temperature wasn’t too harmful, but the fire always caressed his skin, sinking in and leaving the nasty black layers afterwards, at least on the outside. It was ridiculous – the damage to his own body was enough to taunt him, but never enough to kill him, even though, drowning in the inferno, he had so many times wished for it to happen.

Chanyeol didn’t really want to die. The wish to burn completely was there, but, at the very core, the man just wanted for the hell to end. Whether such a death would be a justice served for his sins, or – quite an opposite – a promise of freedom from his own torment, he couldn’t tell.

“Here.”

Minseok came back with a bottle of water and basically pushed it into his mouth. Chanyeol didn’t hesitate before drinking it up in one go.

“You need to wait here for a moment. I need to check on that girl, she’s a bit more fragile than you.”

He didn’t answer. The bottle of water was gone in less than a minute, but he waited patiently, trying to look through the entry, see what’s happening in there – is she okay? His eyes widened ever so slightly when he noticed Minseok kneel down. It meant she was on the floor… Then, he was picking her up. Was she unconscious?

Oh, god. Oh, no.

He wanted to cry again, but his body was still too dry to manage that much.

And so, he decided to lose consciousness again.

You opened your eyes, staring at the ceiling blankly.

It was the same ceiling that you very well knew, one that you’d been waking up under every day in the last month. There was nothing peculiar in it, and yet, seeing it stunned you for the first few moments – that was, until the memories of what happened came flooding back to you, and you sat up abruptly, looking around the room.

A man sat by the table in the corner, doing something on the phone. His cat-like eyes scanned the screen, so he must have not noticed that you’re awake. However, you soon realized, he was the only other person in the room.

“Where is Chanyeol?!” you almost yelled, your throat uncomfortably dry.

The man glanced up at you, scanning your body reactions, especially as you got up. There was a slight frown on his face, until his features eased down and he put the phone down, lifting his hands in a calming gesture.

“He’s okay, a bit roughed up, but he’ll be okay.”

“Where is he?” you asked, wrapping arms around yourself. You were confused and lost; your head was pounding.

“Our friend came to pick him up. He’ll stay with us, so you don’t need to worry. I’m going to go too, just wanted to make sure you’re okay.” He watched you intently for the next few moments, but when you didn’t say anything, he spoke again. “Your bathroom is not really in the best state right now, and it would probably be the best for you not to ask for insurance. If they come here to check what happened, I can’t tell what their conclusions may be, but it’s not likely to look like an accident. We’ll pay you back for renovations, but you probably want to stay over at someone else’s place until it’s fixed,” he spoke calmly, not taking his eyes off you.

You nodded slowly. It was too much to proceed, but the bathroom was the last thing on your mind right now.

“What happened, though? I mean… What was that?”

Of course, you wouldn’t let that go – he hoped you’d be too stunned to ask, and it would just be left as it was.

“Don’t worry about it, it won’t happen again.”

“Was this what happened in that old factory? Three days ago?”

He stared at you knowingly, fiddling with the phone back in his hand, spinning it against the table’s surface.

“Don’t think about it. I apologize for the inconvenience, but it’s only as much as I can tell you” he spoke, finally breaking his gaze away, standing up. “It’s the time for me.”

“No. Wait. You need to tell me more” you objected, standing up right after. Your legs felt like a jelly, but you managed to stand straight before the man could run to catch you from falling – from his body language, you could tell he was about to. Did you really look that weak?

He sighed, pushing the phone into his pocket.

“It’s really not something I can share with anyone. I’m sorry that you had to suffer from it, but you really have nothing to do with it.”

“What do you mean, I have nothing to do with it?!” You stood in his way before he managed to leave the room. He could easily push you away, but he waited patiently. “When he came here, yesterday, he said someone told him he can trust me. I don’t know who it was. But I’m not just a random person in this, I need to know what’s going on.”

Minseok frowned at your words.

“I’m sorry, but I had no idea this is the case. I don’t know who could have told him that.” He stared at you for a few moments. “Leave me your phone number, if I find out anything, I’ll let you know. I can’t do anything more now, though, sorry.”

You exhaled shakily, but finally accepted what you’ve been told. Minseok gave you his phone for you to put your number in.

And that was, in fact, all that could be done at that moment. Exchanging rather short good-byes, Minseok was gone, and you were left alone with your own thoughts.

And, hell, were there many of them.

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