The smell of rain and public transport is the only thing that lingers in Sehun’s nostrils. 11:45pm. The train has left. He’s the only one standing still in the mass of rushing bodies, everyone pushing around to catch the last train to nowhere. The tips of his fingers are a little numb, it’s just the cold, he thinks but he knows that he’s lying to himself, because when he tries to unclench his fists, tries to pull out the nails that are digging half-moons in his palm off, he feels his heart tugging, warm liquid hurt, flooding around in his body. Hot, like Zitao’s touches. No, Sehun shakes his head. Not like Zitao.
”It’s okay to love me" Sehun had murmured against Zitao’s lips, sounding almost desperate. He’s standing too close, he’s linking their hands too tight and Zitao’s many rings are digging into his bony fingers, but he doesn’t care he knows that it will all be over once he let’s go. Zitao had chuckled, warm breath hitting Sehun’s face mockingly. "Don’t be silly now" He said before catching Sehun’s lips for one last time. Softly, almost regrettably. They are cut off by the signaling sound for the last boarding. "Reality is calling.” Zitao smiled, a loop-sided grin, close lipped with shining eyes, before untangling their hands and backing off.
The picture of the last, somewhat cheesy, kiss Zitao blew at him through the train window before he left is burned into the back of Sehun’s eyelids. Sehun will never admit to remember any of their little romance, but yet, the next weekend, and the next weekend again and again and again, he finds himself standing in the street corner where they first met because maybe - maybe - if he’s lucky, Zitao will pass by him once again and Sehun will have another chance to prove himself right.
To prove that they can create their own reality if they wanted to.