He could scarcely remember what his life had been like before you started to occupy all of the space in his heart. All that mattered now was the sun surely shone when you smiled, flowers bloomed where you walked, and birds sang when you laughed.

He wanted you with every fiber of his being, to hold you, to show you what you looked like through his eyes, to tell you that you were a glittering, flawless gem, one that could only be seen from an angle for it was too splendid to behold straight on.

You barely knew that Chanyeol existed. 

He didn’t even know your name.

He remembered the first time that he’d seen you like it was yesterday. You’d come to the bar he’d wandered into after work to perform and when you stepped into the spotlight it was like the world stopped spinning. 

Background noises and conversations died in his ears; everyone and everything else ceased to exist.

You sat on the bench wordlessly, taking a moment to smooth your skirt over your thighs before you pressed your fingers to the keys, a haunting melody escaping them, fighting to stay afloat on the constant stream of chatter.

Your song was too short, your technique too clumsy, your delivery too underwhelming from a technical standpoint, but Chanyeol found it without flaw.

You’d left as suddenly as you came, like a petal on the wind, unaware of how you had turned his world inside out with only a handful of clumsy chords.

You came every Tuesday night and Chanyeol was there each time without fail, watching with a swollen heart as you played your songs for strangers.

From time to time your music would brush against someone else’s soul and they would have courage where he did not and approach you. He would watch the two of you interact and wonder what would happen if he did the same.

He would never. Could never. The thought of possibly tarnishing something so precious to him was far more mortifying than the allure of seeing your radiant smile up close. 

Tonight the luxury of choice was stolen from him, much like the oxygen from his lungs when you took the chair beside his, offering him a small grin in greeting.

You introduced yourself and Chanyeol thought that your name sounded like poetry. 

He was in love with the feeling of your eyes confidently meeting his, demanding that his gaze never timidly falter from yours again, with the way that you were resting your chin in your hand while you waited for a reply, with the way that your palm held some of your round cheek and shrunk your eye behind it.

Chanyeol was in love with the way your eyes sparkled when his name fell from your lips, with the way your delicate hand fit in his large one, with the way your mouth formed a soft ‘oh’ and how your long lashes dusted your cheeks when he admitted that he always came to hear you play the piano and you looked both immeasurably flattered and bashful as you finally broke the eye contact that you had formerly demanded.

You were in love with how Chanyeol’s eyes shone with adoration when you took the stage. With how his large hands always boomed their support, with how his features were always arranged as if he was truly at peace when you performed.

You were in love with how he was always in the same seat, with how his face lit up when your fingers pressed the keys, a beacon despite the dim lighting in an unforgiving crowd, a firework in the dark night, with how your chest felt like it was expanding when he smiled at you.

You were in love with how he kept a polite distance from you every week, with how he shyly looked away when your eyes met for too long, with how his shaggy hair fell in his face as if trying to shield him from you.

You were in love with the look of shock he had when you appeared at his side, with how he softly repeated your name under his breath as if he was carving the word into his heart, with how warm his palm was when it encased yours.

You were in love with the way his long fingers drummed on the bar, betraying his nerves. You were in love with how easily laughter tumbled from his rosy lips, with the rapt attention he paid to you, as if you were the only human on Earth, with how the clear liquid in the glass he offered you was water rather than vodka.

You were plunging from a plane without a parachute, falling swiftly and terrifyingly in love with Chanyeol.

You wanted nothing more than to be wrapped in his arms, the willing subject of his never-ending affection, to tell him how his face shone like the moon in the night sky, how you longed to look upon it forever.

“You’re so beautiful.”

The words escaped him like convicts executing a prison break: possibly well-thought out but too easily thwarted. 

He had meant to tell you that your music was beautiful but his racing heart had overthrown his rational brain in a devastating coup, forcibly taking the reins to  steer him towards speaking what was truly on his mind.

A scarlet flush stained your cheeks like the sweet syrup poured over a snowball.

Without knowing why, without giving it as much thought as you perhaps should have, without any words, you leaned forward, your hand laying over Chanyeol’s on the bar, and pressed your soft lips into his trembling ones in a fleeting kiss.

Chanyeol was in love with the way that your lips moved. 

With the warmth that lingered when they left.