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dbsk_flashficTitle: unwritten
Author: burntpaperplane
Word count: 200
Concrit?: Sure~
Pairing: General OT5 (but Yoomin if you squint)
Summary: These words aren't enough.
Author's Notes: A bit last minute, but I hope you enjoy it just a bit anyways.
Changmin closes his book.
He’s been refreshing Japanese & studying Mandarin in circles for hours & writing so much jibberish all his lyrics must sound like sighs. He’s not sure what language he even thinks in now. He lays the book back open on the desk, along with his head.
Feeling quietly defeated & lost, nothing comes to him. Nothing comes out right.
It’s near the end of break & he won’t admit that he’s waiting.
Finally, he hears them.
Junsu breezes in first, humming to him an old lullaby he remembered while he was out. Yunho behind him, mouth warm with smiles & eyes instantly inquisitive of his health. Then, Yoochun tiredly stumbles in, resting against Changmin, like a wilting flower pressing tight between pages. & finally Jaejoong, arms filled with enough home cooked meals to feed an army, silently beckons him to have his fill.
Changmin smiles, his head clearing & sighs escaping him.
& as Yoochun soundlessly begins counting out the notches on his spine under his shirt, Changmin gives up on the song, on the letters, on the private notes. There isn’t a language that could describe a love like this anyways.
Changmin closes his book.
Author: burntpaperplane
Word count: 200
Concrit?: Sure~
Pairing: General OT5 (but Yoomin if you squint)
Summary: These words aren't enough.
Author's Notes: A bit last minute, but I hope you enjoy it just a bit anyways.
Changmin closes his book.
He’s been refreshing Japanese & studying Mandarin in circles for hours & writing so much jibberish all his lyrics must sound like sighs. He’s not sure what language he even thinks in now. He lays the book back open on the desk, along with his head.
Feeling quietly defeated & lost, nothing comes to him. Nothing comes out right.
It’s near the end of break & he won’t admit that he’s waiting.
Finally, he hears them.
Junsu breezes in first, humming to him an old lullaby he remembered while he was out. Yunho behind him, mouth warm with smiles & eyes instantly inquisitive of his health. Then, Yoochun tiredly stumbles in, resting against Changmin, like a wilting flower pressing tight between pages. & finally Jaejoong, arms filled with enough home cooked meals to feed an army, silently beckons him to have his fill.
Changmin smiles, his head clearing & sighs escaping him.
& as Yoochun soundlessly begins counting out the notches on his spine under his shirt, Changmin gives up on the song, on the letters, on the private notes. There isn’t a language that could describe a love like this anyways.
Changmin closes his book.
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