All The Colors Of You || Bang Chan

Chapter Seven - Perrie

The wine is sweet. I barely notice it in the back of my throat.
I like it. It tastes like summer.

Chan sits next to me with his head rolled back, leaning against the wall with his eyes closed.
He's warmer than the summer night's breeze.
I watch him from the side. He's got a formidable profile.
Chan's all sharp edges and soft curves, pronounced shadows, strong brows and jawbone.

I haven't had dinner, the wine is strong.
My brain is getting fuzzy already.
I like this feeling, it makes me braver.

"Tell me a secret," I say quietly and his eyes snap open.
"What?"
"Tell me a secret," I repeat, "Something no one knows. I'll stay silent as a grave, I swear."
Chan turns his head towards me and raises a single eyebrow with a smirk.
"You first," he says and I grin.

I bite my lip as I think.
He watches me as I let my eyes travel over his face and down to his shoulders.
I brush a strand of my hair out of my face, take another swig from the bottle. He's still watching me when I lick my lips afterwards.
I like having his attention. I like the way he looks at me.

"Okay," I say then, "But this stays between us. I have a reputation to uphold."
He chuckles, a deep sound from somewhere within his chest, and nods once.
I lean in closer to him and can't help the smile from spreading on my face.
"My real name is Periwinkle. Periwinkle Becket."

Chan almaot snorts with laughter.
"You're joking," he takes the bottle from my hands and puts it to his lips to take a sip. Then he adds, "There's no way that's your real name."
"No, I'm being serious right now," I laugh, "My mother gave me that name, you better not make fun of me. She'd kick your ass if she were here."
"Okay, okay," he laughs and drags his eyes away for a moment, "Periwinkle. Like the color?"
I nod.

"My mom used to paint as well," I say quietly, "I guess having a kid named after a normal color like Rose or Amber or Olive was just not the vibe."
Chan laughs louder this time.
He has a beautiful laugh, bright and honest.

"The band is preparing the next album," Chan says after a moment, "But none of the songs I'm working on are close to being done. Because I forgot how to write music."
He finally looks at me again and his face is serious now, almost slightly fearful.
He adds, "That's my secret. I forgot how to do the one thing I've always wanted to do. Like I unlearned it over night. I can't write, I can't make music. Everything I start turns into trash. And I haven't told anyone because-... I just can't."

For a moment, I don't know how to respond or what it really is he wants from me.
Pity? Encouragement?
Finally, I take the bottle from him and say, "I think what you and I do is very similar. In the end, it all boils down to expressing who we are and hoping someone understands."
I take his hand and he lets me. His fingers curl around mine.
"Take off some pressure, Chan," I add in a whisper, "It's okay to slow down. It's okay to struggle. It's okay to ask for help."

His eyes close then and he sighs.
I take a sip from the bottle and lean into him a little more.
"Tell me what you miss most about Australia," I am trying to change the subject. "And you can't say family, because that's a given."
Chan rolls his shoulders and hums quietly.
"Maybe," he starts, "The candy?"

"Really?" I laugh surprised and he nods with a crinkle around his eyes as he grins boyishly.
He's still holding my hand, we both seem to remember now. Neither of us makes an effort to let go, though.
Instead he starts moving his thumb over my skin, back and forth, back and forth.
I pull my knees to my chest and turn further towards Chan.
My heart is beating way too fast.

"What is the best thing about being an idol?"
He clears his throat and his voice is too strong when he answers, "Making music. Being someone our fans can look up to."
"Don't do that," I murmur, letting my head drop down to one side.
He narrows his eyes.
"Don't do what?"
I shrug. "Don't talk to me like I'm a reporter. I'm not trying to interview you, I'm trying to get to know you. The real you."

Chan glances away.
"Sorry," he says then, "Force of habit. Ask again, I'll do better now."
I blink. He's so eager to be good, to be perfect, to make no mistakes.
"What's the best thing about being an idol?"
He also pulls his knees to his chest and rests his arms on them, pulling me closer in the process, as he refuses to let go of my hand.
"The best thing about being an idol is that it means all my hard work paid off. Knowing that it was all worth it in the end. All the struggles were worth it."

His voice is soft now and I know he's being sincere.
"I love my life," he adds quietly, "I love that the life I'm living allows me to be around my best friends, my soulmates. I love that it enables me to spend money on things I want, or things my family couldn't afford when I was younger. I love that I can do almost everything I want without having to worry."
"Almost everything?"

"Well, there are some things you can't do as easily as an idol," he looks at me with a glint in his eyes, "Like, going out to a club, for example."
I lay my head to one side and smile in a way that I know makes me seem flirtatious.
"And dating?"
His eyes meet mine and he swallows thickly.
"And dating," he affirms.

Maybe it's the wine.
Maybe it's the heavy perfume of the magnolia trees around us.
Maybe it's the warmth Chan seems to radiate.
In any way, I am not in the slightest embarrassed when I ask quietly, "Would you want to?"

Chan meets my eyes, he holds my stare.
He holds my hand safely, too.
"I haven't thought about it for a while," he admits then, "But lately, I've been wondering what it would be like, yes."
My heart skips a beat.
I don't know what this is yet, but it's good. It feels right.
It feels like a start of something great.