#readyyyyy

PLEASE I'm ready I've been ready. I really want that light-hearted scene where the party reunites and everyone's just like 👀 will wtf why are you UP so high-- how TALL are you???? and he's like, a full half foot taller than his gd mom just casually. Give us will being tall and confident and funny and sweet and GO

Chanyeol, in general, meant to be straight up. He said what was on his mind without hesitation, but he chiselled his words in a way that was beneficial for the person on the other side of the tête-à-tête. He wasn’t upfront and personal to be malicious; he simply possessed this lively personality that blurted out whatever the thought crossing his mind carried, no filters ⎯and the only thing he could do, in those cases the words running between his lips felt brutally honest [in the bad sense] was to flush away as he hid his mouth with those big hands of his. Chanyeol, when in love, was unintentionally straight up. With butterflies in his stomach and thoughts of you in his mind, it was harder for him to retort in a way that made him sound subtle. He prided himself on being able to say the right thing at the right time, but as soon as he was a mere centimetres away from you, his tongue started to feel heavy and he lost all the right words to say. The symptoms were similar to Drunk! Chanyeol state, as told by Baekhyun, “Even if he isn’t drunk on soju, when he sees you, he is drunk either way.” So, in a failed attempt to not make a fool of himself during his love confession, he decided to do it through text messages, to be more specific, Facebook messenger. Once the iMac is on and Facebook all settled,  Chanyeol goes through the options of saying “hi” or “hey” or “what’s up, baby?” He has to think about texting emojis at the end of the sentence or playing it safe and only add a smiley (made out of parenthesis and two dots) face. Fingertips’ sweat is making the computer keyboard sticky, fighting a flashback to the time Chanyeol asked out the first person in his life, with merely twelve years old, crooked teeth and a pet ferret. Afore Chanyeol is able to make any killer moves, the Video Call beep surprises him with your profile picture all over the monitor.“Hey,” he says, and his nervousness sounds to his own big ears; cutting the edges of his own tongue. He tries to play cool. “Hi. What’s up?“ You giggle and Chanyeol’s face heats up. He rubs his hand at the back of his neck, wanting to wring his own skin, but it all seems to be worth it when you greet him back with the sweetest smile he’s ever witnessed throughout a screen. He wants to swallow his tongue - it would be worth it, he wouldn’t have to speak ever again and all he would have to do is listen to your voice; run it on repeat. It would be the perfect melody to one of his compositions; he might even call the song Heaven.The confession doesn’t go as planned though, it only takes a look from you to feel something get lodged in the back of his throat. It forces him to take a couple deep breaths so he can actually breathe, because you’re there, right in front of him, and he can’t actually breathe. He leans closer to the iMac, flushed cheeks and misguided eyes glancing all over the place. The breathing is hectic, but the conditioner cold air seeping into his lungs gives him life, and confidence, and bravery again. Brown orbs stare at you and he feels it right in his core.  It’s time."I think I love you but I’m waiting until I’m sure to tell you,” he blurts out, and then it’s in the open air, and it certainly didn’t go as he imagined it to be, because you’re not on your way to his place to throw your arms around him, you’re simply staring at him, eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights. The exact moment he says it, Chanyeol realizes that either way, he’s just told you. Fearful, he watches your mouth open and close, and in a blink of an eye you’re gone from his sight while he’s trying to come up with some other words, and minutes pass by as he is frozen before the computer, considering to let out that final sigh that enlightens he’s given up on the hope of you coming back. Eventually he decides for it, but as he stands up from the gloomy chair, the door bursts open and he has you in his arms and he’s saying it over and over again and he doesn’t care how broken or unorganized his words are because you’re saying it back, “I love you, I love you, I love you”.That night, Chanyeol learns that it’s best to say it when he feels it. Fuck trying to make it sound good. Your name on his tongue and the three words on the edge of his lips go more together than anything he’s had to come up with before.