part two hundred and sixteen

[exomeme]

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Comments

[(Anonymous)]

some old meme joke i vaguely remember lol

wc!au - team xiulay -> 5cm per second, intermission 3

[(Anonymous)]

745 words! prev parts:
ep 2: , int 2: , ep: 3

Re: wc!au - team xiulay -> 5cm per second, intermission 3

[(Anonymous)]

hwaiting team a! hwaiting dage!

Re: wc!au - team xiulay -> 5cm per second, intermission 3

[(Anonymous)]

intermission.

Lu Han comes home to an empty apartment. One that's dark and quiet and reflects him as exactly the sort of bachelor he is. At work, his coworkers laugh and wonder what sort of over the top decorations he has that he'll never invite them over. But then again, at work, Lu Han laughs with them, and for a few hours a day, he does not live in an empty, cluttered apartment, and nor does he spend his evenings alone.

The light switch is just around the wall, by the stove and sink that passes for a kitchen. His apartment isn't that small, it's just...cozy. He lives alone, and he likes living alone. There's the kitchen, the bathroom, the space off the kitchen with enough room for a couch, a TV. The bedroom, just behind it all, the balcony opening out behind the door, taken up by the washing machine pushed to one side.

He picks his way around the jacket on the floor - it'd fallen off the couch. Clambers over the bed, kicking aside the pile of dirty laundry, and stepping around the pile of clean clothes. Doesn't bother turning on the light in the bedroom, it's not like he doesn't know where everything is, anyways. At least, everything that he needs.

The days are cooling and the nights even more so. Yet the still air is stifling, and Lu Han carries for a brief second, that useless wish for a breath of fresh air that he knows to never expect in the realms of Beijing. The city is ablaze with light, only highlighting the darkness that surrounds his tiny patch of concrete on the balcony. He leans againt the railing, wondering, not for the first time, what would happen if he tipped over the edge, fell, hit the asphalt, the fence, the car below. Objects on Earth accelerate in fall at 9.8 meters per second squared. He lives on the sixth floor. Three meters per floor, maybe two. Something like fifteen meters. He'd hit the ground at... Maybe a few broken bones. Or just one. If he's unlucky.

He reaches for the crumpled pack of cigarettes he keeps out here, stashed on top of the washing machine, behind the laundry detergent. The lighter, too, because one isn't much use without the other. It takes him a few tries, his hands never steady enough. The tiny, flickering flame casts an intermittent glow against his fingers, a tiny shadow where he'd nicked his thumb a few years ago.

The thing was, one day, the letters had stopped coming. He hadn't even noticed they'd stopped coming, until he resurfaced from the monotony of life to find that they'd just...stopped. He could've sent one, maybe. Asked. Mailed a letter. Called. He had the phone number. He could've. But maybe he was busy, sick. Hurt. Tired. Busy. (Forgotten.) And then what did you say after three months? Four months? A year.

(Hi, how have you been, do you still remember me, this is awkward, we used to hang out a lot together. Yeah.)

Sometimes, he'll think about the past, and he'll think about the way email has made his collection of stamps all but redundant. About how cellphones could've changed anything.

this is deleted - deleted -

Lu Han wraps his hand around his cellphone in his pocket. Down here, in the subway, at this station, there is no coverage. His bag sits heavy on his shoulder. Across the tracks, on the other platform, he catches a glimpse of eyes, a mouth, the angle of a jaw, the set of cheekbones, a strange hint of familiarity, the hint of a dimple. A train.

One that he helped design.

It rushes in, pauses, and pulls out in a torrent of noise and wind and human lives. It pulls away, and there is no one there.

But even if there was, a moment later, his train pulls into the station. Lu Han pauses, smiles to himself, and pushes his way on.

[(Anonymous)]

anons what do you do when you're angry :( i'm so fucking pissed

[(Anonymous)]

calm down first and don't make any decisions :*

don't do what i do u____u

[(Anonymous)]

da a career is at stake lol, id understand why one would reject

[(Anonymous)]

are male idols even shirtless on stage these days?

[(Anonymous)]

play dynasty warriors

[(Anonymous)]

PICK IT UP TEAM

[(Anonymous)]

ig i'll try again next time, thanks anon, i had fun singing even tho it's not v good

[(Anonymous)]

everything's been piling up and i just really dislike this person rn and i'm so tired of taking care of her but she's sick and everything so i can't actually do anything

[(Anonymous)]

cry

[(Anonymous)]

+1

or monster hunter

[(Anonymous)]

i don't like games ;~;

[(Anonymous)]

the people the ask are probably big enough they could be picky?

[(Anonymous)]

i'm so tired of crying and it just makes me feel worse :(

[(Anonymous)]

IM TRYING

[(Anonymous)]

take your anger out on something that doesn't hurt you or anybody else

[(Anonymous)]

but killing things in videogames is the best stress relief! as long as its an ez game u_u

[(Anonymous)]

go running to use that energy up

[(Anonymous)]

i'm really trying, i probably won't finish this til tomorrow ;;

[(Anonymous)]

hey animanga meme, rec me some good romantic slice of life manga that actually has kissing/sex and not just at the end or something like that

[(Anonymous)]

same lol i wonder if team c passed and sechen were teammates i might vomit from the cuteness

WCMOD

[(Anonymous)]

in case em mod deletes the thread before you can read it: cancel my vocaroo entry, i don't have anything about opger in it