It's raining humans || NOMIN

CHAPTER 8

Sitting on his cold metal chair, Jeno sighed softly while listening to the calling of the cicadas.

His skin was shaded in pink hues that came from the sky, tiny bits of sharp orange struggling on his hands. His eyes wavered as he felt himself turn lightheaded, sleep crawling its way through.

Today was unbelievable, was so unrealistic that Jeno wouldn't be surprised if he woke up in his bed realising that all of this was just an extremely beautiful dream.

Just yesterday, he was a loner, a loser who was always bullied. He was a street rat, a pathetic poor bastard that everyone could step on, crush him and break him into pieces.

But now, his lowly self has been given a light, like a beggar receiving hope or like a penitent being given a metanoia by heavenly courts.

A golden succour in the form of Jaemin.

He didn't know if it was alright to be this grateful to anyone, wasn't sure if he could be overjoyed by the thought of just someone he met a day ago.

His life took a 180 degree flip, pushing him from one end to the other of the spectrum. Jaemin made him feel so happy, so content, all by simply smiling at him with those deep set eyes.

Wow, who knew Jeno was that emotionally deprived?

And as though all of this wasn't enough, Jaemin wanted to be his friend even after knowing the disadvantages he brought by simply existing. He was a friend who knew what Jeno was and still accepted him.

And when the small smile crept up onto Jeno's lips, the universe knew that he had been too happy for one single day and decided to stop it.

And like that, in such a happy moment, a single flash of his past came through.

Why was his brain wired like this? He didn't even fully smile and his thoughts had to wander of to those disturbing memories, link back to the childhood that he suffered through.

He closed his eyes in an attempt to chase them away. But the lack of visual stimuli made the  memories play in an even brighter colour, their sound and agitation reaching his nerves.

They came in spasms, deep rooted from his blood.

He could see his 12 year self standing in front of a large window that was set ablaze by the afternoon heat. He could feel those white transparent curtains touch the tips of his fingers.

And that snake painting.

He could feel the rich silk shirts on his chest, the monotonous voices of the servants who came to attend his basic needs, the neatly trimmed garden that stood outside his room which rang with the bell chimes of the nearby temple.

And that snake painting.

The mirror of a lake that collapsed under his fingers, the lazy sunlight that could always leave him, go around the entire world while he remained locked in his closed quarters.

And then the Obsidian black of the Snake that adorned that house.

It's gleaming copper eyes.

He shook himself up from the memories. He wasn't in the mood to travel through them again, not on a such a wonderful day.

The sunlight was fading slowly, the sounds of birds returning to their homes filled his ears. He pushed his chair back and got up, pulling out his homework from the bag.

Today was very good, but for an even better future he had to get a good degree. "Pull yourself together Lee Jeno, stop thinking about those times." He convinced himself.