#cailopsia

[cailopsia-blog]

little by little

word count: 711

pairing: lin yanjun x reader

prompt: cats, coffee, sleep

a/n: for the wonderful @evanism88 ♡ pls forgive my rustiness luv. 

4:16 PM // cats

“of all things to be afraid of, you’re afraid of oscar? and mimi? auntie zhou’s two old, fat cats?”

“...what are you afraid of, then?” ( anything? anything at all? ) you lean forward on the park bench. elbows propped on your thighs. eyes wandering, drifting aimlessly, then finally landing on him.

“we all have our fears.” he’s gentle in the way he speaks, his fingers even gentler in the way they unpeel the plastic slips from a few pokémon band-aids and smooth them over the cuts and scratches you received on your knees from falling over. you yelp, none-too-quietly, when he presses his thumb over the bandage on your ankle. “i’m scared of heights, my cousin’s cooking, and… that you might’ve sprained your ankle.”

“but you can climb on my back; i’ll carry you home…” he pauses, then grins, as toothy and unapologetically mischievous as always. “if it means your mum’s gonna treat me to her zha jiang mian for saving you!”

“lin yanjun, i swear you’re only my best friend for food!”

7:38 PM // coffee

you’re sixteen and on your way home from a coffee date with a boy whose voice sounds like sunshine and honey, tangibly warm and sweet.

but you find him a tad too sweet—or perhaps, just too unlike yanjun.

you berate yourself quietly for not giving your date a fair, fighting chance and for thinking about yanjun again, but how could you not when you’ve been best friends with the boy for nine years and in love with him for six? you recall how some twenty nights ago, he kissed you for the first time and promised you stars, only to leave you to become one.

1:41 AM // sleep

“are you safe? are you coming home soon?”

“don’t think i can make it home tonight, babe…”

“why? is everything okay?”

“it's storming in chongqing; all flights scheduled outta here tonight have been cancelled.”

the line goes silent and yanjun closes his eyes. runs a hand through his dishevelled pre-tour black, now strawberry blonde hair. he’s already picturing it. the way resignation flickers across your face, how you’ll crinkle your nose and sigh before telling him that it’s okay because that’s just what you do. he listens to the sound of you thinking, your bed sheets rustling as you prepare yourself for yet another night alone.  

after a long beat, he finally breaks the silence. “this is the last time in a long time.” 

“mm?”

“it’s always been about me,” he begins, his voice coming out slow and measured as he searches for the right words. they all taste like ashes in his mouth and it takes everything in him to keep them crowded at the tip of his tongue. he can’t swallow them like he usually does—he can’t stomach his own selfishness anymore. “and it shouldn’t be like this. like you waiting, always waiting, never knowing when i’m coming home or when i’m leaving.”

“yanjun, it’s—“

“no, this... this isn’t okay. this shouldn’t have ever been okay with you. when i’m home this time, things are gonna change. i won’t go—i refuse to go on another tour for at least six months because as much as my fans want to see me, i want to see you. i need you.”

when you speak again, your voice is so quiet, he can hardly hear it over the rustling of your bedsheets. “do you remember our first date? when you promised me stars?”

“yes, and i haven’t given—“

“you gave me you, didn’t you?” you laugh. “you’ve given me all my most cherished memories and i wouldn’t have our relationship any other way. you gave me the biggest and best star, too—you.”

“god, i’m so blessed to have you. i love you.”

“i love you too, lin yanjun. just come home safe, sound and soon, okay? i gotta sleep now.”

“g’night, babe. i’ll be home as soon as i can.”

< end call >

a few hours later

he returns home at 5am, beat and worn to the core, from his group’s tour to find you just as you were when he left, sound asleep, tucked under layers of ivory down duvets and between stretches of dreamscapes he always hopes he’s in. “i’m home, baby.”