#fcxtiffany

{ ` the one thing that wu yifan hates about himself — upon the thousands of other things that he hates in his mind — is the fact that when a problem appears, he flees.  of course, it doesn't apply with his job as an x-men. he wouldn't be one if he fled from fights or conflicts, but when it came to the problems that directly involved him and were personal and tore people apart, that's when he would flee. there was a thick line that separated fighting against someone he didn't know and fighting against someone he knew — no, loved.  and that's what he hates about himself. a twenty year old yifan — no, it was kris back then — had dreams of getting married. of a family. he had settled with a girl ever since his first year of high school and twenty year old kris knew that she was his soulmate — the girl he wanted to settle down with. instead of thinking of college, she was the one who convinced him that he should do what he wanted [which was, at the time, to pursue his dreams of basketball] and she was the one who supported him the entire time, through thick and thin — the thick being his family issues and the thin being simple things, like getting colds and scraped knees. but then twenty year old kris had to ruin it. he still blames himself, despite the fact that it was her power and her touch that lead him to forcing her into an act that he regretted oh-so deeply ever since, and it wasn't even that — they could've made up. she could've explained things a few days later and they would still be together.  but life doesn't play out that way. instead, he had to flee and avoid the conflict altogether. the visions and hopes of proposing later that week and perhaps having a family a few years later were trashed and replaced with a supposedly ever-lasting darkness of dealing with his own insecurities and faults brought on by his mutation, fading into a void of what he used to be. even though his depression is melting away and the solution to his power's been solved, even though she's back and while they aren't on the best of terms, his life's better than it was a few months ago, there's still something that's missing and it hurts. } tiffany. { ` he calls when he knocks on her room's door, his fingers promptly dropping to fiddle with the doorknob before he clears his throat } i need to talk to you. { ` but today isn't a day for regret. instead, the regret's replaced with a form of irritation, and he's not sure if he's exactly justified but the fact that she found a love life after he did is absolutely infuriating and he feels his heart tighten at just the thought — it's possessive and he's in the wrong for being angry and he knows that, but half of him is absolutely seething at the thought. } 

{` it's been a whole five minutes into the chaos and in the midst of it all, wu yifan is stuck as a lizard. a lizard — one that resembles the monsters a little too much for comfort and he's already horrified half of his unfortunate classmates that hadn't ran out of the door quick enough, being forced to see the brutal transformation between human and reptile. and know his two feet — paws? — pad against the marbled floor of the hallway, the screams of his peers [and somehow explosions] echoing through his ears [do lizards have ears? he wonders]. he's felt blessed enough to not come face to face with one of the lizard [how offensive, he thinks] monster things — that is, until he sees one sprout from a hall of lockers. the sight sends him sprinting through the hallways, as fast as his lizard legs could carry him, and he's audibly panting — why did his mouth hang open all the time, what lizard is this — after the first minute, rounding corners and trying to ditch the brute of a horrific sight. and when he does, it's by rounding a corner and pressing his scales against the lockers, watching it bound in the other direction, completely oblivious to him. he lets out a hiss of relief, his eyes closing for a moment to gather up his strength before he begins to [carefully] tread down the hallway once again —  until he runs into a girl. hwang miyoung, he remembers, and he's able to walk up to her unnoticed, looking up at her significantly taller form and wishing that he knew how to change back to his original form because this won't turn out well } can you tell me which way the locker rooms are? i think that's the best place for me to hide.

[ sms ] can you meet me at haeundae? i'd — erase. [ sms ] hey, i'd like to go to the carnival with you — erase. [ sms ] meet me at haeundae, i'd like to talk to you. he feels like he's young again, back in high school and asking hwang miyoung out on a date for the first time again. it's just a carnival, but damn, he feels like they'll actually be hand in hand and eating cotton candy, giggling and smiling through it all. they won't, he knows. there's no way — she's too angry at him and he's full of past regrets too sad. the combination will result in them either arguing or maybe, just maybe, it'll go the way kris wants it to and they'll actually mend open wounds. but nothing had went kris's way lately. he sighs and for the first time in two years he worries about how he looks. he stares at himself in the mirror and despite the dark circles underneath his eyes, he doesn't look pathetic, at least, and he's managed to pick out a decent set of clothes to wear and his hair isn't strewn in a thousand places — he looks tame and for once, he actually doesn't look like his mind's succumbed to depression. but he could look better. with a smile, with a natural glow to him — he remembers how he looked back in school and it upsets him to think how different he looks now. and the only reason is that him and tiffany weren't together anymore; they weren't the same as they were and even though things are gradually mending ( though he feels like he's walking on eggshells, and always has to be cautious with how he speaks, for fear of her turning away from him ), kris wonders if their love will ever be the same as it once was.  and before he realizes it his feet step into the sands of the beach an hour later, his eyes watching his shoes kick away sand and from the corner of his vision, his eyes catch the warm hues of the sunset. it's romantic, he thinks, but he wanders how long his serene mood will last — especially when he spots her. "hey, tiffany—"

 the coping mechanism yifan has when it comes to rough nights -- rough nights equating to nights that he had to spend out of the comforts of his bedroom, into the city on a task -- is to wander aimlessly around campus, his head tucked down and his hands kept to his pockets. walking it off; on the weekends, the campus was slightly more bustling, but at this early at night most students were still sleeping -- where he wishes he could be at this point in time, but he can't just sleep. his thoughts were too rattled, his head was still swimming -- it's times like this where he's brought deep into his thoughts and although it only seems to bring his depression further down, his doctor tells him to think and to examine his past -- for some sort of trigger that would've brought on his depression besides the loss of a sense. mental scars are deeper than physical, yifan can hear the man recite in his head, and he inwardly sighs. when he thinks about it, his loss of touch is almost ironic. the crippling memory that still haunts him rings in his head and he knows that this is the memory that started it all --  her loving gazes to him, their high school yearbooks covered in hearts and messages to each other. the bookmarked picture of them sitting side by side, the picture captioned 'best couple' -- yifan was in love once. but then the other memory comes to haunt him, tearing any happy memory to shreds; it was the memory that tore them apart - so suddenly, so abruptly that he could feel his heart strings rip when he glanced down at her, their bodies splayed against each other and sticky with sweat, her expression one of fierce betrayal and then the events that happened afterward -- he just left. he left her -- left her to cope with the event by herself, no consoling and no point in therapy. it was a hole for both of them and it was all his fault. he'll never be able to know what force compelled him to escape into her bedroom that night, but it was some animalistic urge that made him feel filthy.  it's sort of funny, though, since whenever he recalls the memories he's brought with a small flood of emotion that pumps adrenaline through his system and it sounds a bit masochistic, but the fact that he feels again, even if it's just the mental kind of touch, makes him excited -- there's still hope, he can still overcome this. but then the thought brings him even deeper into his depression, he remembers, and he sighs -- he'll never win, he'll always lose. yifan wasn't meant to be happy, he's sure, and so he tries to swallow the lump in his throat as he lifts his head up, stepping into one of the campus buildings blindly in order to sit and get some air. it's as if he just went for a three-mile run, he's exhausted and exasperated and everything but together -- he feels a cacophony of emotions and they ring in his head -- and get even worse when he looks up. it was her. miyoung -- tiffany as he recalls that that was her english name, one he had matched with kris. he blinks, hoping that it was just some illusion since he was tired and she actually wasn't there -- he feels the urge to flee, escape out of the building as quick as he can but he's afraid that he's already attracted enough attention, so he just backs up until he can feel his back against the door and he just stares in disbelief as he looks her over, a flood of emotions coming to him so strongly that he feels compelled enough to cry. he even feels the tears well up in his eyes -- part of him just wants to walk over to her and wrap her in his arms, pull her close and mutter a series of apologies -- she's still as beautiful as she was before, but he's sure that his presence wouldn't keep that look -- his brows furrow when the last expression he had seen painted on her face flashes in her mind and he lets out an exasperated sigh. this was it; this was his torture.