inside the head of an artist 🍉

☆ Genre: Fluff, slice of life

☆ Warnings: None

☆ Request: No

☆ Characters: Chan, Y/N

☆ Word Count: 1.6k

It was quiet inside of the car.

Uncharacteristically quiet.

Bar the sudden downpour of rain that escaped from the late night sky and fell upon the vehicle in a steady battering, all passengers in the car were either fighting to stay awake as their eyes drooped, or were already asleep, their heads pressed against the cold windows. Blankets were strewn over them all, and heating pooled from the seats in slow, steady waves. The group of friends were completely and utterly exhausted; they had spent their day coaxing out their inner children as they wrecked havoc in a theme park far, far away from their homes. Awake at a golden dawn, they had long passed the violet hues of dusk, and it seemed they would witness another dawn before they made it home.

It was so dark inside the car that Y/N could barely see her own hands in front of her. If it wasn't for the faint light spilling onto Minho's lap from his phone, Y/N wouldn't have been able to differentiate him from Felix who was slumped beside him, either. They were amongst the rows of seats in front of her; Chan was sat beside her, Changbin on his other side. Chan had insisted he sit in the middle. As much as he loved sitting by the window, he would much rather have his friends sit by them instead.

Y/N traced her finger over the window, following the path of a fat raindrop that danced over the glass. Her touch left a path in the condemnation and opened a clear line that illuminated the deep darkness outside. She moved her face closer to the window slightly despite shivering at the wet on her fingers. Y/N's eyes widened in mild awe at the colours of the night, the reds and yellows and oranges of the lights that flashed by her, the way they seemed to melt into the roads as rain created ripples over the gravel. It was a sight that Y/N would never get tired of, and she was completely unaware when Chan swivelled his gaze to her, watching her quietly.

The car soon rolled to a halt. It bumped forward every now and then; Y/N moved her gaze to the front of the car. There was a long line of cars in front and she sighed quietly, leaning back into her seat again, suddenly seeking the comfort of the heat at her back.

Y/N looked to her side. Changbin's face was smushed against the glass of the window and the shape of his lips was pursed extravagantly, giving him the appearance of a rather glamorous duck as the car passed a set of tall lights.

Stifling a giggle at the sight of him, Y/N peered up at Chan. The man in question had his head back against the seat, the small sliver of his irises that escaped from his narrowed eyes shining under the shadows. His shoulder pressed up against Y/N's in a way that ensured a fire-like feeling to seep into the thick fabric of her sweater and through her skin. It was the sort of feeling she couldn't ignore either, her cheeks sporting a permanent flush and her breathing hosting a continuous hitch. It was as though she was hyper aware of his presence; from the way his heavy boot was aligned with the rim of her own shoe, to the way his breathing had slowed down with fatigue, and the way the faded cologne on his jacket kissed her nose in a deep, vanilla kiss.

Y/N swallowed thickly. She wasn't sure she ever wanted the journey to end if it meant she got to be this close to him. With the rest of the car asleep, in Y/N's mind it felt as though it was just the two of them, the night belonging to them and them only.

Chan turned his head towards Y/N once he felt her gaze on him. Y/N was able to make out the way his lips curved up into the softest of tired smiles before he leaned a little closer to her. He stirred the air around her and infiltrated it further with his scent accompanied with his body heat, and Y/N felt her heart flutter.

“What?” Chan whispered.

Y/N nodded towards Changbin. “Look at his face.”

Chan turned to look at his friend. He soon covered the lower portion of his face with a hand to muffle the laughter that caused his body to shake.

“Do you think it's painful?” Chan chuckled under his breath. “I don't want to move him … he might wake up.”

Y/N leaned forward a little to peer at Changbin again. “I think he'll be fine. There's a pillow under his neck.”

Chan looked towards Changbin again. He smiled. “Oh. You're right.”

They fell into quietude again, Y/N's eyes drooping ever so slightly as she peered out of the window. A yawn rose inside her and her nostrils flared in her attempt to stifle in it, her face contorting.

Chan started to laugh again. Y/N whipped her head to the side in alarm, her eyes landing on the crooked smile and pair of uneven dimples that adorned the angles of Chan's face.

“Tired?” Chan hummed.

Y/N wrinkled her nose. “Don't laugh at me. You look like a panda yourself with those rings around your eyes.”

Her comment only made Chan's smile deepen. She blinked. She was sure there was a tinge of burgundy painted across the tip of his nose and the ridges of his ears.

“Go to sleep,” Chan whispered. “I'll go to sleep if you go to sleep.”

“Why? So we can meet in our dreams too?” Y/N joked. She hoped her bad humour would mask the tremor in her voice that always seemed to occur when he looked into her eyes the way he was now.

Biting his lip, Chan's voice was even lower when he spoke again. “Well … maybe?”

Y/N's eyes widened. She stared at him but Chan had turned his head again; he was looking out of Changbin's window, and Y/N turned to look out of hers as her heart started to race.

A moment later, Chan shifted his position. He shuffled down the seat a little and Y/N turned to look at him just as he turned his gaze onto her.

“You can lean on my shoulder if you want,” Chan murmured. “It's not the most comfortable shoulder ever … but it might be better than the window.”

Swallowing slowly, Y/N moved her eyes from his face to his shoulder. He was wearing a soft knit sweater, and the fabric draped in gentle folds around his arm. It had dropped slightly to one side, and tiny moles kissed his skin like dark stars. She could feel the heat rolling off of him from here, sweet, heavy, and increasingly intoxicating.

Y/N wanted nothing more than to rest her head against Chan's shoulder. She also couldn't bring herself to, nerves bubbling inside of her that only seemed to grow with every second that Chan watched her with his soft eyes.

“I don't mind,” Chan hummed again. He moved his shoulder a little almost in invitation, and Y/N couldn't help but smile. “You'll feel better.”

“My head is heavy,” Y/N said.

Chan smiled. He responded by leaning closer to her and used his opposite hand to pat the slope of his shoulder twice as he looked ahead of him.

Y/N exhaled quietly. She then let her head dip to the side a little; once she was half way towards his shoulder, she sat back up again, suddenly nervous.

Chan started to chuckle. “Just lie down.”

“Okay, okay … “ Y/N's breath shuddered before she lowered the side of her head again.

His sweater was soft against Y/N's cheek, and his scent stronger and sweeter against the side of his neck. She felt him shift ever so slightly again, and the slope of Chan's shoulder almost moulded to the side of Y/N's head perfectly. Her cheeks felt like they were burning and as if her skin was dissolving into stardust. She didn't realise she was holding her breath as she looked towards her hands resting on her lap.

From the corner of her eye, Y/N saw Chan's hand twitch. He moved it towards her and then stopped, his fingers curling into a loose fist before unfurling again. As Y/N watched in a trance-like state, Chan inched his fingers towards her. His pinky finger brushed Y/N's ever so slightly. Y/N froze at the contact, her eyes widening when Chan's fingers moved even closer. He caressed her fingertips with hers before sliding his fingers into the gaps of hers; his hand was trembling against the palm of Y/N's, and Y/N finally exhaled slowly as she comprehended what just happened.

She turned her head to look up at him. The man's skin was a deep crimson, his bottom lip caught in-between his teeth. He wouldn't look at her, shyness trickling from his eyes like falling stars as he shut them slowly. His own body melted under Y/N, almost as though he let go of a breath he had been holding in too.

Y/N smiled slowly. She dropped her head against his shoulder again and carefully folded her fingers around Chan's. Their hands fit perfectly together like puzzle pieces, the grain of Chan's palms slightly calloused and rough, but strangely soft nonetheless. It was a reassuring feeling against Y/N's hand, and when Y/N felt Chan's cheek fall against the top of her head, she couldn't help but clench her eyes shut with joy. Perhaps her mind hadn't been wrong after all. Perhaps this moment really was theirs, and theirs alone.

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In a small village, a baby boy was born. He had pale skin and large eyes.

While raising the boy, his mother naturally came to the realization.

That he had no feelings whatsoever. All he had was the desire to eat, like a zombie.

So his mother locked him up in the basement so that the villagers wouldn't see him. And every night, she stole livestock from her neighbors to feed him as she raised him in secret.

A number of years passed like that. Then one day, an epidemic broke out. It left the remaining animals dead, and also killed many people. Those who survived the epidemic left the village.

But the mother couldn't leave her son all alone. And to appease her son crying of hunger, she cut off one leg of hers and gave it to him. After that, it was her arm. She gave him everything.

When she was left with nothing but her torso, she embraced her son for the last time to let him devour what was left of her.

With his both arms, the boy tightly held his mother’s body and spoke for the first time in his life, “Mom, you’re really warm.”

What did the boy really want? Satiating his hunger? Or feeling his mother’s warmth?