A/N sorry it's been so long since the last update T.T things have been hectic, I'm so sorry~ But I hope you all enjoy this update, although I'm unsure of it myself... Idk I just~ my writing has gone downhill, I'm sorry, I'll try improve <3 but now can I do some shameless advertising? If you haven't checked them out yet, I'd love any opinions on my new story project, Cherry Blossoms, or my Jongyu oneshot, Space Hair. Reads or comments on any would mean the world, although there's no obligations, your reads here alone mean a lot :3 THANK YOU T.T i hope you enjoy and, again, sorry for the wait on this update •-•

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​"We need to talk."

"About what?"

"Us."

The conversation played around and around in Minho’s head as he struggled to understand it.

He stared at his reflection in the bathroom mirror hesitantly, eyes glazed, regarding his appearance with the finest of combs. He'd grown neglectful of his image over the past few weeks; his hair had grown longer, so long he figured he could probably tie it up, and was tousled, a heavy brunette that accentuated his clear skin. He'd grown skinnier, still muscular yet not as bulked, and his coat somewhat hung from him figure. His eyes were still wide, still entrancing, and his cheeks were so sharp, yet he felt akin to a dulled blade, akin to the grey watercolour of the bathroom he stood in. He looked younger, however, similar to how he had after their debut. Minho didn’t understand how, given that everyone around him had aged significantly over the past few months.

After another prolonged stare, he turned away from the mirror, the cold bathroom seeming even colder as the tablet – a mental stimulant provided from his doctor, to stop depression, breakdowns, or at least combat them – left a strong taste against his throat. He didn’t feel the effects clearly, but figured they must have made some kind of impact. He wasn’t ready to launch himself from the roof of the police headquarters yet, after all.

Minho sighed, rubbed an eye, and pushed himself away from the sink. He stopped when he noticed the man who t watched him with his feline eyes from the closed entrance to the bathrooms.

"How long have you been standing there?” Minho queried, wondering whether Kibum had noticed him take his medication. He hadn’t ever told his hyungs of his prescription – he hadn’t felt the need – yet knew they'd begin to fret if they saw him downing pills from a clear little bottle.

"Long enough,” Kibum answered emptily. Minho nodded. He'd seen.

"They aren’t what you think,” Minho tried to reassure, as Kibum took a step forward from the door, nodding distantly.

"Then they mustn't be prescribed,” Kibum mused. “I wouldn’t pin you as a drug addict.”

Minho smiled sadly. Even given everything, it seemed Kibum still thought highly of him, highly enough to not peg him as a drug addict, anyhow. The elder’s face seemed to glow slightly beneath the bright lights above him as he tilted his head at Minho, almost expectantly.

"Why are you watching me?” Minho asked, leaning against the marble counter of the sophisticated row of sinks. The bathrooms were sleek, clean, the best of the best for the police forces, it seemed. Although his question had been to try diffuse the awkwardness of the moment, it only added to it, as Minho folded his arms across his chest.

Kibum shrugged a shoulder.

He took another step towards Minho, almost warily.

"Has there been any news?” questioned Minho, pushing away from the sink again, standing defiantly, so that there was only about a metre between him and Kibum.

"Hah, no, not that they’ve told me. I was talking to one of the tech guys, though – Minsook, or something – but he seemed more interested in getting my signature than finding the others.” The dejection in Kibum’s tone was clear, a