A​/N hi! I just wanted to say another thank you, but I also wanted to request... If possible, don't be a silent reader, please give me your thoughts, on where you think this is going, who you love, or hate, or ship... I'd love to know :3 thank you for reading, it makes me so happy and honoured and.. I'd love to thank you all personally haha :3 thank you! Please enjoy ^-^   •••     Minho rapped his fist against the door firmly and waited.
The hallway was empty but for a spider that dangled listlessly from a cobweb by the large window that looked out across the bustling city of Seoul. Even in the luscious quantity of light, the spider appeared dark and insipid, and Minho could barely tell if it was still living.
After waiting a few more seconds, Minho rapped his fist against the door again and called, “Kibum, I know you’re in there! Open up!”
Though he was in a long black coat, the refreshing morning air of the block of high-end apartments sent a shiver down Minho’s spine as he scratched his head. Just before he considered turning and leaving, the door gently clicked open – a brash invitation for Minho to enter.
Sighing, Minho pushed open the door slowly with his fingertips and stepped in, almost apprehensive.   He’d received Kibum’s drunken call that morning, having woken to his usual alarm and checking his voice messages. He’d recognised Kibum’s voice immediately, regardless of how slurred the speech was.   Padding into Kibum’s apartment and shutting the door behind him, Minho instantly felt the tight atmosphere that dripped from the chic interior. Despite the warm, inviting wallpaper, and the soft, designer furniture, as Minho surveyed the open plan living area and kitchen, his mood dropped further than he’d deemed possible. The large windows at the opposite end of the living area were covered by curtains, and the wooden flooring was almost blanketed in old clothes, empty food packages and dog-eared books. It seemed to Minho that Kibum had been thriving solely in the living room, the beautiful light installation attached to his ceiling the only thing illuminating the dark corners of the space.
“Kibum,” Minho addressed, “look at me.”
Kibum sat curled in a ball on his sleek purple sofa, staring at the matching curtains. His black hair fell across his ashen cheeks, accentuating his strong cheekbones and full lips, yet also drawing attention to the thick lines of tiredness etched around his wavering eyes. His satin dressing gown covered a fragile body, that was becomingly increasingly skinny, and hid the scent of booze from the night before. The only indication Kibum was hungover was the way he seemed to twitch in pain at his headache, and the painkillers that watched him languidly from the arm of the sofa.   When he didn’t flinch, Minho shook his head, and sat on the other chair of Kibum’s expensive furniture suite. The apartment had used to look so artistically impressive, and was somewhere Minho had always felt at home, despite its extravagance. But now, it was barely recognisable. Minho leant forward and rested his elbows on his knees as he waited for Kibum to address his presence.
Finally, Kibum bit his bottom lip in contemplation, and tilted his head to stare directly at Minho. His eyes were piercing, as if someone had replaced the spark in them with a depleted haze, and they struck Minho bluntly as he waited for Kibum to speak.
“I didn’t mean to hurt him,” Kibum finally managed, voice torn along the