The sheet of paper felt so insignificant and fragile between his fingers. It seemed so delicate that if it wasn’t treated the right way, it could rip and drizzle down into nothing but useless pieces.

How wrong Kim Jongin was.

That single sheet held and was so much more than a mere piece of processed wood; that single sheet of paper, if read properly and thoroughly, would grant him entrance to a set future and a steady life. That single piece of paper would be deciding in his exams, if he’d let it. But once having scanned that sheet, Jongin would come to the next--the next sheet of paper that would be deciding in his future life.

Jongin groaned. Law .

With tired fingers, Jongin tousled his hair and sat up straighter in his seat. He really needed to finish this dissertation for his international law class or he would be screwed. He was already failing one class, so he couldn’t afford having to carry another burden in his third year. So, without much of a choice, he began scanning through the eternal sentences until he had reached the next page.

He could do this. He could ace this stupid topic. He could--

“Dude!”

He was going to fail.

A lanky presence settled next to him, followed by an arm being slung around his neck.

“Well, look at you being all studious and whatnot,” the deep voice said next to him.

Jongin sighed before he chuckled. “Since when do you know big words like studious?”

Almost immediately after he had uttered his words, he felt Chanyeol give him an insulted shove.

“Since always!” Chanyeol said but instantly lowered his voice since they were located in a library. “,” he said in addition and propped up his elbows, his chin resting in his palm.

How Jongin’s best friend could be so loud remained a mystery. It wasn’t a bother because most of the time Jongin would act up as well and be part of the banter. But right now, situated in a quiet library that contained infinite knowledge that went beyond his capacity, Jongin couldn’t help but notice what Chanyeol truly was. Loud.

Jongin sighed again and pushed his book away, as if giving up, and rubbed his eyes. “What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be half-wasted at some nasty frat party?”

Chanyeol hummed and nodded, his dark bangs falling in front of his eyes when he did. He pushed his locks back, creating a tousled coupe. This obviously caught the eye of a girl sitting a few tables away from them; Chanyeol’s full lips fell into a satisfied smirk as he seductively ran his fingers through his hair once more. This earned him a kick from Jongin under the table against his shin.

“Ow, goddamnit Jongin!” Chanyeol said sharply and grabbed his leg, glancing at his friend and back at the girl, who was focusing on her work again.

“My question?” Jongin said as he ignored Chanyeol’s scowl and gestured for him to continue his explanation.

Chanyeol sneered, still rubbing his probably bruised shin, but let out a satisfied sigh. “I backed out because my best friend couldn’t attend so I didn’t see any reason for me to be there.”

Jongin frowned and scoffed. “Well, that’s a first.”

“I care!” Chanyeol countered loudly but the students sitting around them shushed him. Chanyeol shot them an apologetic smile.

“I care,” he repeated, this time softer, and glanced at the countless of thick, hardcover law books in front of Jongin, picking at some pages. “I thought maybe you needed a break from all of this and you’d like an evening at my place or something.”

Jongin seemed to be contemplating the idea before he shook his head, disregarding it. He really needed to finish his work or else, he was sure, he would get thrown out of the law program for tardy work.

“Go to your party, Chan,” Jongin ended up saying and Chanyeol’s expression fell, “I really can’t afford another night of FIFA and junkfood.”

“You can’t spend your days cooped up and studying all the time!” Chanyeol said with a whine and began closing Jongin’s books, to the latter’s discontent. “When was the last time we hung out? Thirty-seven years ago, that’s right! So you’re coming with me and that’s final. And who even mentioned FIFA? We all know you at that game.”

All of Jongin’s books had been closed and shoved into his bag by the time Chanyeol was finished with his monologue. Jongin wanted to complain, but Chanyeol had already pulled him up from his chair, grabbed his coat and was dragging him outside, ignoring the wave of complaints they left behind.

When the two got outside, the fresh but cold breeze Jongin’s face, playing with his dark bangs. The sun had already set, Jongin noticed, leaving the street lanterns to light the way. He hadn’t even realized he’d been studying that long.

Jongin tugged on his arm for Chanyeol to stop dragging him. When he halted, Jongin grabbed his bag with a subtle smile and swung it over his shoulder. Chanyeol returned the beam and stuffed his hands into his pockets. His best friend didn't need to speak up for him to understand that he appreciated the abduction; they were best friends for a reason, and as Jongin passed him by, his steps lazy but his shoulders tense, Chanyeol made a silent vow he’d always be there to abduct him, no matter what.

Their walk to Chanyeol’s apartment passed by in silence. Jongin never particularly enjoyed the path they took. They left the busy roads far behind and all that surrounded them were trees that ran along an illuminated street and the bordering houses. Even during the day it was calm and, safe from a few elderly couples strolling around, the street remained empty.

Too empty.

Jongin enjoyed the unruly sounds of the city, cars rumbling, and people yelling at each other. It somehow soothed him to know that he wasn’t alone.

Once they arrived at Chanyeol’s complex, Jongin kicked off his shoes but out of habit neatly set them to the left of the door. His bag was dropped somewhere in the hallway before he made his way to the couch. Chanyeol followed after him and some lights so the room was dimly lit.

“Want something to drink?” he asked as he passed his lazing friend to the kitchen.

“A beer would be really nice,” Jongin said, his voice slightly muffled by the pillow he had draped over his face. Chanyeol snorted and opened the fridge, got two bottles and sauntered back into the room. He plopped into the fancy armchair next to the couch Jongin was on.

Jongin let out a whine when he felt something cold hit his covered stomach and reached around before his fingers found the bottle Chanyeol had flung into his lap.

“Orange juice?”

Chanyeol just grinned against the rim of his beer as he took a sip. “We’re out of beer.”

“Liar,” Jongin instantly countered but didn’t bother with it any longer. He knew it was a useless battle so he just let it be. He sat up straighter, slanting his body in such a way that he could rest his head against the back of the couch, and lazily the cap of the bottle.

He was tired.

He had truly underestimated this year and it was beginning to take its toll on him. Zoning out for a few seconds as his eyes traveled around the living room, Jongin noticed that he wasn’t the only one suffering.

The place was a mess. Judging from the books strewn around haphazardly and empty cartons of takeout mixed with a dozen of crumpled papers, Jongin could figure out that Chanyeol didn’t have it easy either. Jongin smiled, his gaze settling on the bottle in his hands again. Who would’ve thought that party animal Wright had a stress filled life?

“Wanna bake some pancakes?”

Jongin frowned at the sudden request and looked up from his lap at Chanyeol. Chanyeol stared out into empty space, his bottle loosely in his hand.

“What?” Jongin asked but his friend just simply repeated his question.

“Pancakes. Wanna bake them?”

Again, Jongin frowned but an amused scoff soon followed because really, Chanyeol never ceased to amaze him.

“Sure.”

“Great!” and up Chanyeol went, bottle in hand as he hopped into the kitchen. The sight was amusing because even though Chanyeol had legs for days, when he was happy he would take smaller steps and almost hop like a little kid to his destination.

Jongin looked on with a subtle grin and lifted himself from the couch to follow after Chanyeol. However, his eyes caught something large on the dining table and the frown returned.

“Why is the maquette like that?” Jongin asked when he entered the kitchen and walked over to Chanyeol who was scrolling through something on his phone.

“Like what?” Chanyeol asked but didn't take his eyes off his phone.

Jongin leaned against the counter and took a sip from his orange juice, the first one of the night. “Like there was an earthquake in your apartment, but it only targeted the display.”

Chanyeol snorted and glanced at Jongin. “I wasn’t satisfied,” and he looked down at his phone, scrolling again. Jongin glanced at the dining table, taking in the broken pillars and cracked walls. He pressed his lips together, eying his friend suspiciously.

“Chan--”

“Could you check if we have any flour?” Chanyeol interrupted and made his way over to the fridge. Sighing, Jongin dropped the subject and walked to a cabinet, scanning it for the familiar white pack. He took it out when he found it and set it on the counter.

“Oh ,” Jongin heard Chanyeol’s deep voice rumble next to him. He looked at the man that surprisingly wore a distressed expression.

“Oh , what?” Jongin asked with a frown, playing with the paper lid of the flour between his fingers.

Chanyeol scratched the back of his head with a slight wince, and gestured at the fridge. “We’re out of milk.”

The frown on Jongin’s face deepened. “You do realize that milk is quite a vital ingredient for pancakes?”

“I do now. Hence the ‘oh ’,” Chanyeol replied, waving his phone with the recipe.

Jongin scoffed and shook his head as he pointed at him. “You gave me a dead bird, man. Not cool.”

Chanyeol gave him a sheepish grin and checked the fridge again. “We do have eggs, so all that’s missing is milk.”

“I’ll go get some,” Jongin said. He was already halfway into the living room to the front door.

Chanyeol shuffled after him but banged his knee into the chair at the table. He grabbed his leg with a long whine, but managed to say, “I’ll come with--”

“It’s okay, it won’t take long anyway,” Jongin interrupted as he was slipping his shoes on and checked on Chanyeol. “You okay?” he asked when he saw the wince on Chanyeol’s face as he was still rubbing his knee, his eyes averted to the table. Jongin checked the clock on the television and searched for his bag so he could get his wallet. Once found, he slipped it into his back pocket and glanced into the room again to find Chanyeol. He had straightened and was tracing his fingers along the cracks of the maquette.

Something about the sight made Jongin feel a sort of anger bubble in the pit of his stomach. So he did what seemed to be the best decision then.

“I’ll be back,” he said, but Chanyeol didn’t respond. With a heavy sigh, Jongin slipped into the hallway, leaving his friend alone in the confinements of his apartment.

Jongin hadn’t expected it to be this cold when he came outside. His coat was still hanging comfortably from a hook in Chanyeol’s warm apartment, waiting to be used. Frowning and sighing because of the cold, Jongin stuffed his hands into his jean pockets to somewhat warm himself.

Fall was slowly transitioning into winter--the empty branches had lost their colors and an icy wind passed through Jongin’s hair. But he didn’t mind that. It meant that he could wear layers again, and boy did he like piling on clothes.

Glancing a last time at Chanyeol’s building, Jongin hopped onto the sidewalk and set his destination to the cornershop nearby.

The man felt somewhat happy that he wasn’t back at the apartment for once. Somehow, somewhere along the way the mood had turned sour between the two, and Jongin felt suffocated. Where it had happened, he wasn’t entirely sure, but it put a damper on Jongin’s mood.

Pressing his lips together, he picked up his pace when the market began coming into sight. He jogged up the few steps in front of the entrance and narrowed his eyes because of the bright overhead lights. They gave him an instant headache the moment he stepped inside. The register was empty with no one for Jongin to greet so he passed the counter into the store.

It was almost eerily quiet, safe from the low humming coming from the lit bars against the ceiling, and it made Jongin feel uncomfortable. Keeping silent as he went, Jongin passed shelves filled with snacks, little trinkets for households and even more snacks before he had finally reached the back of the store where the fridges were located.

His heart skipped a beat in relief when he spotted the milk he had been searching for and quickly grabbed one of the plastic containers.

“Thank god,” he muttered to himself but just as he wanted to turn to walk to the register at the front, the lights died.

Surprised, Jongin looked up at the ceiling to see the glowing wires of the lights dim by the second.

“What the-” he frowned but soon his answer came in the form of meeting keys. Carefully, Jongin began approaching the sound, his path illuminated because of the lanterns outside the store, until he had reached the front again. He caught something moving outside and when he saw it was an elderly lady putting her keys away in her purse, Jongin felt his heart drop.

“Wait, no,” he managed to get out in realization and lifted his hand to knock against the glass. The lady didn’t hear him and continued trudging down the stairs before shuffling away.

“Ma’am!” Jongin tried yelling, this time pressing his palm against the window and lightly hitting it against the glass to get her attention. In the end the lady just continued walking until she disappeared behind a corner.

For a moment, Jongin just stood there, speechless and helpless, his heart beating frantically in his chest. Once he realized in what kind of situation he found himself, he rest his eyes and leaned his forehead against the window.

“Great,” he muttered, his breath fogging against the cold glass door. He sighed and pushed himself from the door, deciding he might as well put the milk back in the fridge. Once again, Jongin passed the aisles filled with snacks and necessities, but when he turned into the last one, he walked into something solid.

An exclamation of a voice was followed by the sound of something heavy hitting the floor. Jongin was surprised at the turn of events because he had thought he was alone all this time. His eyes had long adjusted to the dark around him, but when he found the source of the collision, he was even more surprised than before.

What luck he had.

“Are you okay?”