#heechulia

Can you imagine how hard was to find it in your size? Merry Christmas! - H

He knew the second he saw the familiar H on the note who it was from and to expect literally anything inside the package, but all things considered, an apron was actually a very thoughtful gift from the dragon. Thunder draped the apron over his shoulder as he made his way over to the kitchen using his free hand to pull his cell phone out of his pocket.

[TEXT: Heechul] I’m assuming that apron is your dream because it is definitely not mine. [TEXT: Heechul] Also if this is some weird way of you telling me you want me to have your babies, I’m going to have to give a VERY firm no. [TEXT: Heechul] Thanks for the apron, though! I needed one for the dorm ~(☆^ー^☆)~

“Hey-” Minwoo smiled as he crossed another creature and picked up a notebook the other had dropped, handing it back to the vaguely familiar face. “You should be careful with your stuff.” Not everyone was as honest as Minwoo could be. Granted he would not have been this kind if it had been a wallet or something, probably. 

He eyed the other for a few moments and then mumbled “Dragon” eyes flashing a bright red immediately more on his guard and his lips pressing together. 

Yes, he had been out. No, it had nothing to do with the Halloween Ball. He had attempted sleep only once the night before but as soon as midnight hit, what dreams had been restless had been plunged in—in… many, many things. He had woken up sweating, crying, and outright in fits while trying to not wake his roommate.

The whole day had continued as such, shivers leaking through his veins and scraping up his spine, a depression that was so oppressive he could barely move. Things in his periphery made him jump, anxiety spiking until he was far too on edge to go anywhere public. Instead he had moved to the belltower where once upon a time he had met a star being and sketched for the first time since he had come to Insolitus. He had heard all the things going on down below and he wasn’t quite sure if the pressure in his chest was just Halloween and it’s palpable magic increasing as others passed and energy built into nightfall or the fact that he was far too incapable to join in. He did not eat, drink, and he most certainly did not sleep, body chilled to the bone by the stone around him, and by the time he woke from his panicked daze, it was out of the night and into daybreak and the winds had scattered his drawings.

Returning to the dorm, he didn’t feel any particular panic for Yoon. He had left a note saying he wasn’t sure if he’d be in at all that whole day or night and hoped that Yoon interpreted it as a healthy endeavor and not him locking himself away in solitude. Coming into the room, however, and seeing someone still in bed shocked—no, worried—him. His roommate didn’t usually stay in if the sun was up. He was not quiet closing the door (though he hardly slammed it), and he dropped his papers in the table in the kitchen to straighten, eying the lump on the bed.

“Yoon?”

Thunder didn’t pay much attention to the fact that his door was cracked ever so slightly. A certain dragon had practically taken up residence in his room, and it wouldn’t be the first time he hadn’t shut the door properly. Before he had a chance to react, a plastic bucket full of water came crashing down and his entire right side was soaking wet. A colorful string of curses fell from his lips both from the surprise of it all and from the fact that the water was absolutely freezing after being up there for who knows how long. Thunder looked around his room for whoever had done it, but his room was unexpectedly empty. With an irritated sigh, he made his way towards the bathroom shedding his sopping wet t-shirt and tossing it into the bathtub before grabbing a towel. When he knelt down to dab at the soaking carpet, his eyes fell on the writing on the bottom of the bucket. He recognized the handwriting immediately. With an uncharacteristic amount of calm, he reached into his thankfully dry left pocket to pull out his cell phone and send off a quick text.

Sharp eyes combed through the students as the Nightmarcher made his way down the halls. ‘He has longish, black hair, and he’s about this tall’ was all he had to on. That, and a name no one seemed to be answering to. He was starting to feel like he was on some sort of wild goose chase until after several dead ends he found a student who finally pointed him in the right direction.

“Hey!” Jason bellowed catching sight of a boy who seemed to fit the description while unintentionally startling several innocent bystanders in the process. “Are you Heechul?” He asked approaching the student. “You signed up to help with the ball, but you forgot to specify what you wanted to do,” he grumbled still clearly displeased with his newfound responsibilities. “So? What will it be? If you do not choose, I will,” he warned.

Thunder let out a sigh tossing the container of spaghetti onto the bedside table with the rest of the meals he had tried to bribe Heechul out of his coma with earlier in the week. If food wouldn’t wake the dragon up then nothing would. He plopped down into the chair raising his legs up to rest beside Heechul’s on the bed. The lack of sleep was beginning to show on the fallen’s face as he raked his hands through his hair with another defeated sigh. “If you’re doing all of this for my attention, you have it. Just wake up.” It had been days, and the vinyl of the cheap hospital chair was beginning to retain his butt print. He had tried to take some time away from the bedside knowing his looming wasn’t helping anyone, but his room felt too empty without the dragon busting in like he owned the place and raiding his fridge. “You know I’m too proud to beg so just do us both a favor and wake up.” Despite his words, his voice held an undeniable pleading tone.  

Heechul didn’t react. It was no surprise given the circumstances, but he was still hopeful each time he spoke that it would somehow bring the other back to consciousness. Pulling out a book that was well on its way to being completed, Thunder began reading out loud. He had heard somewhere that reading to coma patients helped, and it wasn’t uncommon for him to read to the dragon anyway. This was their fifth novel in two days.