kurreo:

Reflecting the white crystalline like rain that falls from heaven through his eyes as he counts the number of times that he tried to catch a glimpse of how it subtly roam around him; it itches, as soon as it fell on his arm and melted with his warmth. The tiny, white snow that he kept his eyes locked into, is something that he never thought was that saddening to look at, that it peered through the skin to his limbs, making him weak. 

“It’s too fucking cold.” Winter isn’t his season to be jolly, agony—his own river filled of misery, agony and melancholy. His head pounding, aching from the miracle that he wishes for to happen, yet it never did, even if he’s too patient enough to wait for it. Snow is the reflection of is soul; white, pure yet frozen, cold as how it wants it to be and free from all the emotions that he doesn’t want to feel.

“To simply put it, I’m Chanyeol and I need a hand.”

Pᴀʀᴋ Cʜᴀɴʏᴇᴏʟ -- hover:  ι - ιι - ιιι - ιv -- Follow / Reblog