Darling, even angels stumble and fall.

High above, with the sun sinking into his skin, he saw him between the cracks where summer breezes kissed ocean air and fell crashing and tumbling, sinking deeper beneath sea foam, finally washing up with the waves to his feet. Because Chanyeol was the setting sun, battered and broken. Because when Kris had breathed, blind and dazed, “Catch me?” he never heard the sinking sun whisper, “I can’t.”

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