[ Enmortals ] Ethereal | Prelude ㅡ a Xiumin story

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                                               “ ﹏﹏﹏

Yo, Bloomy ao seu dispor!

Oi fellows! So, that's my new Xiu story uwu and I'm planning it to be a short one but let's see. I still don't have a set amount of chapters in mind for this one and I hope you enjoy it!

This story has an unusual theme compared to what I've been writing here in EA, but I had that idea and decided to go for something different, so now let's read!

Betaread by:

Arrow :heart:

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Genre: drama

angst and suspense

Rating:

K+

Characters:

Xiumin X OC,

Secondary Characters:

Suho, Chen, Kai

Total word count:

2441

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#enmortals

#featurethis

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        Xiumin's low voice was whispering

the verses slowly as he tried to absorb

the meaning of each word spoken by

him. Lying comfy in his bed, all in sheets

as white as his own clothes, the comple-

tely dark room   was forcing Xiumin to

strengthen his eyes to read the worn pa-

per he found on the floor. That was the

best thing he could've ever done. He

hadn't read a poem like that in months.

Fortunately, the young man's caregiver

wouldn't find out   that   he still wasn't

sleeping, but   rather ㅡ he grabbed the

paper that fell out from her pocket earlier

while she was replacing the bedclothes

ㅡ to read in the wee hours.

         On   the   yellowish   paper,    round

letters slightly   sloped to the right, in a

writing carefully arranged in black   ink

which gave shape to some verses that

were apparently improvised at the moment

they were being made, as some scribbles

preceded the definitive words. The beauti-

ful handwriting and the melody of some

verses were curiously making him reread

the poem, which began explaining   the

immaterial condition of love. Right at the

beginning, a small spot of black ink was

seeming to be just one more peculiar de-

tail to adorn what would be such an inti-

mate verses. So he began reading them.

"The love can't be touched

The love can't be created by hands,

neither be composed of elements

that we found at the stars

and the planetary rings system.

Love is not built of

anything present in universe,

though the universe is utterly full of it.

Through the universe,

we can see how

the love is diverse,

raised from the echoes

coming from distinct ways of loving

right down on Earth.

All the shapes, intensities and colors

sometimes doomed to the adverse,

the galaxies and his imposing

planets, stars and shine,

they're all the perfect reflex

of the love looking at itself in the mirror.

See, the universe is full of love

and it isn't a misconception of mine.

We don't need to pursue it so hard.

You just need to find out

what love really is.

ㅡ Ethereal"

         And that was how the poem came to

the end. That was it. A poem on an appa-

rently    old     piece   of   paper   signed   by

someone who called themselves "Ethereal",

or   would   it. be the title of the poem? Who

cares.   Xiumin   really   liked   it.   The poem

succeeded in   leaving all   those thoughts

hovering in his mind.

"What is love? What is love?" ㅡ the poem's last words just got stuck in Xiumin's mind, repeating over and over.

       Xiumin folded the paper and placed it

under his pillow, intertwining the fingers of

both his hands upon his belly and stared

the ceiling for long minutes, still in the dark.

He kept meditating about the deep meaning

of the poem, especially the meaning of that

question he was asking to himself: what is

really love? What is it made of?

      The more he thought about it, the more

he concluded he never would find a proper

answer. And this dilemma lasted until he

fell asleep.

         That could be a random question to

most of the people. They probably   never

really cared about searching for an answer,

but that actually became Xiumin's bigger

martyrdom. How could he really figure out

the enigma of the poem? How to describe

something that he wasn't even sure   that

he felt?

       Stuck in that room, he wasn't expecting

more than dying with those questions just

for him. Xiumin   was   there in that mental

institution,   Exodus, all alone. His parents,

who   died in   a very suspicious   way in a

helicopter     accident,    never     cared    for

him   much when   they were alive. He was

15 when they ed away.

         Xiumin   was an   inmate of that place

for 5 years. Now, in his early 22, it was a big

deal   to   prove his own sanity. He knew he

was totally fine. He   could   read   and write

poems, draw and paint faces and landsca-

pes   that   were     still   in his   mind   since

childhood. He   could call each one of his

immediate family by their names, he even

knew their ages and could perfectly descri-

be their personalities with minimum details.

How could he be crazy?

         Why was he in Exodus? Why did his

brother put   him in this awkward place?

Xiumin   was too   innocent even to think

about the possibility of Kim Junmyeon

wanting the family's heritage only for him,

even if he knew that Kim Kai was sent to

military and he also heard that Kim Jong-

dae didn't come back from his long travel

to a climb at Mount Everest that he went

to right before Xiumin was sent to Exodus.

After that, he never heard news from his

family again,   except for those cold visits

from Junmyeon. If he visited Xiumin twice

in a year, it would be a big deal.

        Even if he was worried about his bro-

thers, especifically   Jongdae, who   was

also his   loyal   best   friend   and just di-

sappeared, he couldn't do much more than

that. With a   medical report attesting his

insanity, he wouldn't get out of that place

so easily.

        Junmyeon was always imperative in

showing that he believed in Xiumin's insa-

nity. He would claim that using arguments

such as the way Xiumin would talk while

sleeping and describe fantastic sceneries

right the next morning, about creatures and

telling   surreal tales from his dreams in

such an allegorical way that sometimes it

seemed to be something to provoke Jun-

myeon, like if Xiumin was dropping hints,

hitting   him   directly   like a bomb falling

right on his lap.

         On   top of that, on a sunny morning,

Junmyeon came to Exodus for an unusual

visit.   That   was a bit strange since in the

last one, Xiumin begged so much to go ho-

me that he securely guaranteed that Jun-

myeon wouldn't visit him again in the next

two years.   This   was   two months ago.

         Even if he was curious to know what

Junmyeon had to say, Xiumin was with a

quite disgusting facial expression due to

that visit. He   hated the   way Junmyeon

used to call him so much ㅡ by his birth

name, not the one that he loved so much,

Xiumin ㅡ because it   was a sweet remin-

der of Jongdae, from when they both gave

Chinese names to one another during a

trip to Yalong Bay. He missed his brother

so much; Junmyeon, not that much.   He

always used to laugh at the names, stating

that he wouldn't never call   him   Xiumin,

that his name was Minseok and he'd never

call   Jongdae   that   stupid chinese name,

Chen.

         While the caregiver was conducting

Xiumin to the visiting room to see Jun-

myeon, he saw a girl in a white knee-length

dress, fluttering with the wind while she

was kidding with her long brown hair. Her

pale skin against the sunlight caught even

more of Xiumin's attention, as   he was

trying to see her face. He never saw this

young woman there   before.   She    was

apparently in her 20's.

"Is she a newbie?" ㅡ he asked to his gentle caregiver.

"Yes. She arrived at the institution around one week ago."

"Mhmm. I never noticed her presence here."

"Maybe you should pay more attention so... Let's go, after your visit you'll be able to start a friendship with her during your sunbathing."

"I don't wanna be friends with her!"

"Not really?"

"No!"

"Ok" ㅡ the older lady pretended to avoid Xiumin's bored face ㅡ "But she loves to write poems just as you. I thought you could be friends, but..."

"Enough! Leave me alone. I don't need friends."

"Ok, Baozi" ㅡ the woman called him affectionately by the nickname she gave to him as their relationship of inmate-caregiver got a little better and he began to trust her ㅡ "I didn't say anything. Forget it. We finally arrived. Enjoy your brother's company."

        Xiumin got into the room alone. Jun-

myeon was right there, sitting with hands

holding each other upon the white desk.

The legs were crossed and a disdainful

expression was worn better on his face

than the suit on his body.

         He sat in front of his brother. His arms

was stuck by a straightjacket ㅡ one of Jun-

myeon's requirements for Xiumin in the visi-

ting room every time. It killed Xiumin inside,

but he never said one word about it.

         At first, Junmyeon cleared his throat,

avoiding eye . Looking at his hands,

he explained that the   reason to make the

visit was because of the family's vineyard

in South America. Their   grandfather was

attempting   to it to Xiumin, but Jun-

myeon had the law in his favor.   Xiumin

was a person legally incapable, but their

grandfather was turning that   into a   big

matter, claiming that since   he was very

sick, not even   getting up from bed any-

more , he would just die in peace if Xiu-

min could   have   the   vineyard.   So   Jun-

myeon was there,   peacefully   asking for

Xiumin to write a   letter   saying that he

loved his grandfather so much,   but he

would refuse his proposal.

      Xiumin listened to everything carefully.

Junmyeon came but even didn't ask if he

was good, eating or resting well during the

night. He was talking about all those judicial

issues. Meanwhile, Xiumin was enjoying the

paper and the pen that was sent and were

right in front of him. He asked Junmyeon

for time to think about what to write in the

letter. His brother agreed and as soon as

he heard Xiumin's answer, he just left.

"Nanny!" ㅡ Xiumin yelled to his caregiver by the nickname he gave to her, a lovely reference to the sweet way she treated him just like a nanny to children.

"Yeah, Baozi!" ㅡ she attended quickly.

"My brother is gone. Can you set me free from this straight jacket? I need to write something very important!"

"Uh, I see." ㅡ the latin-like woman smiled with Xiumin's excitement. One day, he swore to himself, he still would ask her how she ended up in Korea working in an institution for people with mental illness.

        The woman conducted Xiumin back to

his room. There, his arms could be   free

again. He jumped in his bed, accommoda-

ting his body in a comfortable position in

the bed,   ing his back at the head-

board.

         He got his eyes stuck in the paper for

20 minutes, he. was very thoughtful during

the writing process. As soon as he finished,

he smiled, satisfied with the results, then

his   sweet voice echoed    again from the

room through the white corridor.

"Nanny!"

         Three minutes later and the woman,

who was set in a more comfortable special

sector, was back to attend to him.

"Yes, baozi."

"I finished it."

"The letter to your grandfather? I heard something about it, sorry."

"Mhmmm, actually not." ㅡ his sassy grin denounced he wasn't attempting to obey Junmyeon. Not that time. ㅡ "Nanny, I can get my sunbathing now, right?"

"Ow! Of course you can! Just get your lazy ass from this bed, boy, and let's enjoy the sun outside there." ㅡ the skin tanned 43 years old woman led Xiumin to the wide garden.

         As soon as he stepped on the grass,

he saw her. The girl who caught his atten-

tion earlier. The long haired one who was

playing with her own hair. The truth is that

while Junmyeon was talking about all the

Vineyard stuff, giving him that paper and

pen, he was actually thinking about that

old question: what really is love? What

intrigued him most   was   Nanny's words

about that girl. Did she really love poems

the much as he did?   Could   she be the

author of the poem that he read?

        Well, Xiumin decided that the hearts of

two poets would easily recognize each other

through     the      verses.    So,    he    slowly

approached the girl and stood by her side,

sitting in the grass.   She seemed to avoid

him, also sitting in the floor, playing with

some little flowers.

        Xiumin took the paper from the pocket

of his pants. He glared at the girl, but she

was    apparently    still   avoiding him.   Her

appearance was a delicate one, small rosy

lips,   the   chin   shaped   in a v line added

smoothness to her apple-cheeked face. He

didn't        introduce       himself.     He    just

unfolded the   paper in his hands, starting

to read what he wrote right there.

"What is love for you?" ㅡ Instantaneously, these first words caught the girl's attention leading her to face Xiumin with curiosity as he kept reading what he prepared for the moment.

"I guess you can't describe it so simply.

Love isn't a landscape through the window,

Or a Pessoa's poem settled to a rhythm

It also isn't a Niemeyer building,

Nor the flight of a Phoenix.

There's nothing that I actually could compare.

The words, they just run away from me.

They drain from my mouth to the place they

really belong.

I look for it, but I can't reach the heaven so easily,

So I haven't a clue about how to put love into words.

However, I'm still desiring to feel it

At its most pure form.

I hope I'm not going to fail at doing it,

As my heart has been frightened of it

Since the beginning.

I wish I could do some metrics,

But this is a poem.

A poem about imperfection and luxury,

greed and tenderness,

the good and evil.

Oh, maybe I just found out

How to put into words

What love really is."

       Right when the words came to an end,

the girl just said hi. A very shy Xiumin, at

this point, replied to her with a low "hello".

"Did you read my poem?" ㅡ she asked with bright grin.

"We-well..." ㅡ he stammered ㅡ "yes, I guess? mhmm this is my answer to ‘Ethereal’ so if you're its author, then yes, I read your poem."

The girl instantly began to laugh.

"Wait, what's wrong?" ㅡ Xiumin was completely embarrassed.

"Ethereal isn't the poem's name. It's my name."

"For real?" ㅡ the boy's eyes was screaming his astonishment to that different name.

"Not really." ㅡ she smiled ㅡ "It sounds like a joke at first, but it's just a name I gave myself because I love it, though my birth name is another one. Don't mind..." ㅡ she tried to relieve the silence present in the garden ㅡ "we're all nuts here. Don't you see?"

        A slow smile raised on Xiumin's pink

lips. He   could perfectly understand that

issue. Would she be surprised when he

tells her his name?   He was anxious to

see if she would.

        By   the way,   ethereal had become

his   favorite    word    since    that    poem.

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Thank you for reading until here! I'll be posting the next chapters occasionally so stay tuned! ^~^

:o: next chapter: :arrow_forward:

bye bye! :heart:

#Xiumin

#Xiuminfanfic

#Minseok

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