Archive of Our Own ^beta

Because there’s a version of me for each version of you, past, present, and future, that is willing to love him in all the pages of his history and every chapter of his life, because I didn’t choose this path, it is the path that has found me.

Prelude.

In a city of endless nights, underneath the sky of blue, what you were yesterday disappeared a little ink spot in the torn pages of an old journal. 

A man of infinite faces and countless names.

You were my temple, my mural, my sky, a secret story of missing pieces.

So I wrote you in a couple of verses, everything I never knew how to tell anyone.

“I wrote about every Oh Sehun that existed, about all of them. About everyone that mattered”

i.

I wrote this for you, for the Sehun who was brought to me by the beginning of March, to the caterpillar that had become a butterfly.

He had the prettiest eyes I'd ever seen.

And what a pleasure it was to lose myself in them.

Not for that inner fire burning with passion and daring hope, or for the fierce determination of their feline traits.

Not for their perpetual winter, or the multiple universes hidden inside them.

It's because they were yours, and that's why I liked them.

And with each look of those eyes, in a world of dust and tangerine peels, I felt one step closer to life and a hundred further from death.

“Loving you is what I needed. It’s the only thing keeping me sane in this life. Being without you it’s the only thing I can't endure, I would simply cease to exist"

ii.

I wrote this for you, for the Sehun who was brought to me by the beginning of May, the one who let my finger walk on his chest drawing a heart.

All the verses in the world are made in ink and pencil, and you and I made poetry.

We put our names in the sky, with the faint breath of our lips. By fighting the oldest battle in the world, we touch the heavens without dying.

And in the frenetic swaying of our letters, we lit a hell that could not be extinguished even with the perspiration of our desires.

"I have this strange feeling that I loved you a few lives ago."

iii.

I wrote this for you, for the Sehun who was brought to me by the summer of July, to the fire that still loved the rain.

He had the cutest hands I'd ever seen.

You offered me one, and the spaces between my fingers filled with magic.

And then I, who had never had a vice, suddenly had already found one.

"I don't care if you decide to stay with me forever, it's enough for me that you stay for now"

iv.

I wrote this for you, for the Sehun who was brought to me by the beginning of August, and I fell in love with the clear base of her French manicure and the flavor of her cherry lipstick.

Blond was definitely your color.

You were a dance. A way of dancing, I mean. A dance that couldn't be fuck up. But fuck if you didn't drive me crazy. 

And let's dance, that dancing your sorrows go away. 

The truth is, even now you walk like you're dancing. And when you breathe, or when you smoke, I swear, you breathe and smoke dance, as if you were listening to a goddamn song somewhere. 

And when you start dancing, you make a man go mad. You dance softly and sensuously, you are rhythm. You dance slowly, you are weightless, like your feet don’t weigh.

And I was told that rhythm comes from inside. That's you, that's the rhythm. An attraction, a tension. It's your soul, it's your essence, it's who you were, it's who you are, who you will be.

"As soon as you came in that's when I thought, wow, there’re people who were born to do this."

v.

I wrote this for you, for the Sehun who was brought to me by the winds of September.

I heard you calling me, and in the painful silence of our existence, I found that my soul vibrated with the same frequency as your voice.

"Everything looks so beautiful, even more beautiful at the thought of you".

vi.

I wrote this for you, for the Sehun who was brought to me by the cold November. To the person who wanted to be a star when he was already universe.

"I think I found it"

"What?"

"The proof of the existence of God"

"Really? And where is it?"

"Right there, on your left cheek. In the semicolon left by the kiss of one of his angels".

vii.

I wrote this for you, for the Sehun who was brought to me by the lights of December. To the little ant that dared to cross the valley.

I liked his skin, it had an autumn hue, like the fine grind of a cup of coffee.

And there were no tricks, we just got perfect timing.

And we touched our bodies until we tickled our souls. 

"Because only with you I would dare to speak of eternity"

viii.

I also wrote this to the you of January, the Sehun who was brought to me by the end of the world and the beginning of a new one.

He had the cutest smile I had ever seen. The type that was impossible to not want to kiss every time he smiled.

So, I approached his mouth and felt the softness of the stuff dreams are made of.

“Something close to eternity brushed my lips for an instant”.

Adagio

“I don't care how you look today or how you will look tomorrow; I know who you are, and I know it's you. Because I love the Oh Sehun inside, right here, and that will never change”