DRABBLE COLLECTION

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Yunho's used to the noises. He hated them, of course - who wouldn't if they keep messing with your head for as long as you can remember? - especially the voices but nothing could ever make them disappear so he forced himself to be used to it. If not, Yunho would've been a lot more insane that he already is.

Nobody can stand hearing so many noises in their head.

Nobody, especially not Yunho.

So it came as a surprise to him when all of a sudden, the voices disappeared. They were all stopped, drowned, erased, by a soft humming. Just like that. And it's not like the soft humming replaced them, because if it did Yunho's sure he still can't hear himself but he can.

For the first time, Yunho can hear himself think. He can hear himself, clearly. Even with the soft humming as his background, Yunho can hear everything he thought of. His own voice.

Yunho's head turned left and right desperately. He's sure it's out here, not in there, so he needed to find the source. Needed to know why or how. Needed to keep it by his side.

And finally, finally he found the voice he's seeking.

It came from a man, one of the waiter, he realized, who's diligently scrubbing a stain on one of the table. The closer he walked to him, the better his head cleared as if the sudden silence before was nothing. And when the man started singing quietly, only loud enough for the few people near him to hear, Yunho decided he doesn't really like his voice. It's husky, nasally in fact, as if he's having a flu. And yet, Yunho also thought there was no sound in this whole wide world more beautiful than it.

Yunho knew, because he'd heard every sound that exist in this world.

Everything.