True to his word, Sehun dropped Jongin back home at a quarter to midnight, grinning saucily at Yixing who only shook his head and let out an exasperated sigh as he ushered the artist inside.

As the two friends chatted by the door, Jongin quietly slipped away, having already said his goodbyes to his best friend in the car, and headed up to his bedroom before anyone could accost him. Luckily, Jongdae was already holed up in his own room, to the artist’s immense relief, and Yixing knew not to disturb Jongin when the door was closed.

Not bothering to flick on the light switch, the artist unceremoniously flopped onto his bed. Every inch of his body ached from fatigue and Jongin let out a pained groan as he blindly reached for his pillow, since he was too lazy to properly position himself on his giant bed. It took several tries before the artist finally managed to pull the fluffy pillow towards him, letting his head rest on the cool fabric.

Jongin then hugged his giant blanket and curled up in fetal position, keeping his eyes closed and focusing on his slightly uneven breathing, gradually smoothing it out as the seconds ticked by.

Without Sehun as an anchor, it was rough. Even the slightest distraction immediately set off all of the neurons in his brain and Jongin soon found himself starting to spiral back down into that bottomless pit of asive darkness. But before he could fall too far down, his best friend’s words of encouragement from earlier that evening rang like church bells in his head, strong and steady. And the dark tendrils that tried to sneakily drag Jongin down with them grudgingly shrank back and began biding their time for a future attack.

Good god, harboring feelings for someone was… utterly exhausting…

Not to mention, recounting all of his interactions with Kyungsoo to Sehun had been an incredibly overwhelming task in itself. Jongin hadn’t realized just how much the two of them had talked to each other, both in and out of the clinic, until that evening. How much Jongin had gone out of his way to be around Kyungsoo, to extend their limited time together, regardless if it made sense or not. How much Jongin had allowed Kyungsoo to dominate his thoughts, when they had merely been strangers not even five months prior.

It was scarily eye-opening, coming to terms with how tightly Kyungsoo was now woven into the fabric of his life. How a simple referral and a timely schedule conflict had brought forth a cascade of emotions that left Jongin floundering at sea.

Although Sehun had provided himself as an emotional buoy to keep the artist afloat, it still wasn’t enough to fully calm the jitters and keep the butterflies at bay. His best friend, while markedly more experienced in the romance department, could only lead Jongin so far into the labyrinth of the artist’s overly complex feelings. Jongin had to find the center on his own.

The artist let out another disgruntled groan as he flipped on his side and tried to scatter his intrusive thoughts once more. But try as he might, a single thread remained, strong and taut. And as Jongin gingerly traversed the thin tightrope, splashes of brown began dotting the empty canvas around him.

At first, they were nonsensical blotches, amoeba-shaped and blending into one another. There was neither rhyme nor reason, just shades of brown swirling round and round like a carousel.

Until black ink began bleeding onto the canvas, outlining shapes one by one. And Jongin felt his breath hitch and his chest tighten as he began to recognize the overall picture that was subconsciously forming.

For Kim Jongin, there was no escape from Do Kyungsoo. In the waking world or in his dreams.

No matter where he ran, no matter where he hid, the ophthalmologist’s kind smiling face was always there. Constant as the air that he breathed and the sun that rose every single morning.

Try as he might, Jongin couldn’t get rid of Kyungsoo.

But…was that necessarily a bad thing?

The artist curled up even more, desperately clutching the thick blanket close to his aching chest.

Despite the image of Kyungsoo’s soft brown eyes blinking owlishly at him, Jongin’s exhaustion ultimately overtook him and he somehow managed to drift off to sleep, letting his mind finally surrender to the darkness.

--

When Jongin belatedly awoke the next morning, around half past noon, the house was blissfully empty.

Jongdae was, presumably, at work and Yixing had kindly left a note next to the brunch he had prepared for the artist, explaining that he was spending the afternoon at the library. The implicit understanding that Jongin probably still needed some space and alone time was…touching, to say the least.

And so, a wave of guilt washed over the artist as he sat down and surveyed the dining table. The promised potato pancakes, wonton soup, and sliced watermelon from last night were arranged neatly in the center of the table, with a plate and cutlery already laid out for him at his usual spot.

When he sat down and took a bite of the crispy pancake, Jongin couldn’t help but let the corners of his mouth rise up slightly. His manager always put so much love and care into his cooking. Even after all of the emotional turmoil that the artist had put him through, Yixing was still willing to provide only the best for an ungrateful curmudgeon like Kim Jongin.

Yixing really did deserve so much better than him.

As an employer. As a friend. As a person.

Jongin sighed as he slowly chewed, stewing in his guilt. In his frustration with the world. With himself.

Upon finishing his meal, the artist decided that he also needed some fresh air. These dark thoughts had more than overstayed their welcome, not at all helped by Jongin staying cooped up in this giant house for far too long.

The artist quickly scrawled his own plans at the bottom of Yixing’s note before clearing the table and washing the dishes. Even if he had no sense for the culinary arts, the least he could do was help maintain a clean home, especially now that they were no longer paying for housekeeping due to Yixing insisting on doing everything himself. Once the last plated was neatly stacked on the drying rack, Jongin deftly slid his keys and wallet into his pockets before heading out the door.

Luckily, it wasn’t too warm outside, as summer had yet to officially begin. But it was warm enough for the artist to quickly maneuver himself under the shade whenever he could. Bringing a baseball cap to shield his face from the blinding sun would’ve been the smart choice, but Jongin knew that if he returned home, he’d be back at the living room couch in ten seconds flat. He would just have to deal with the consequences of his actions. Or in this case, his lack thereof.

Although the city streets weren’t too busy, Jongin decided that he’d much rather return to the small park he had serendipitously found several months ago. The peace and quiet of being surrounded by nature was much more appealing than the thought of mindlessly meandering the heart of Seoul for an entire afternoon.

There were more people visiting the park this time around, likely due to the sunny weather. Most of the patrons were families with young children, not yet old enough to attend grade school.

Jongin purposefully steered clear of them and their rambunctious games of tag. A few parents eyed him curiously, but the gleeful screams of their children immediately pulled their attention away from the artist and he breathed a sigh of relief before hastily walking further into the park.

After aimlessly walking around the expansive park, mildly observing the local flora and fauna, Jongin began looking for a place to sit and rest his weary limbs. A quick glance at his phone revealed that the artist had been walking non-stop for over an hour already, so Jongin finished his current loop around the park before heading inwards to the lake, which was surrounded by a plethora of benches for folks to rest at.

This time, he was able to find a vacant spot that was relatively close to the lakefront. Because of the lack of shade near the calm body of water, less people were wandering around the area. Luckily, Jongin managed to catch sight of a small unoccupied bench stationed underneath a giant willow tree, semi-hidden by the overhanging branches. The artist quickly claimed resting area before anyone else could spot it and he purposefully laid his long body across the entire bench.

It was only a few feet from the lakeshore, so Jongin had a clear view of the various frogs that were nestled in the dark mud lining the shore. Their low croaks harmonized with the buzzing of nearby dragonflies and the splashing of baby ducklings chasing each other in the cool water.

Seeing the young fowl gleefully playing in the lake brought a small smile to Jongin’s usually stoic face, reminding him of the Humboldt penguin enclosure at the aquarium. The little birds zoomed through the water, pumping their little webbed feet as fast as they could, while squawking loudly whenever their siblings got close enough to tag them with their beaks.

Meanwhile, the frogs languidly laid in the mud, barely moving except to snap up a passing fly every once in a while. They were nicely camouflaged along the bank, making it easy for them to catch their midday meals, and Jongin chuckled softly to himself as he watched their big eyes blink slowly.

If the amphibians hadn’t been partially submerged in the mud, and if he had brought along a sketchbook and a pen with him—not that he even remembered where his sketchbook was after three months of disuse—Jongin would have taken a stab at capturing their features on paper. The last time he had drawn frogs had been for his animal studies portfolio in college. Although frogs were much more common and less flashy than salamanders and newts were, that was precisely why his artwork on amphibians had stood out amongst the rest of his peers.

Not a single person in his class had chosen to draw a frog, as they had all deemed the amphibian to be “too generic” for their portfolios. So Jongin, taking that as a challenge, had decided to only draw frogs for the amphibian branch of his portfolio. And thus, a month of research—both indoors and outdoors—had begun.

The artist had pored over dozens of books on frogs, read handfuls of papers on their fascinating anatomy and behavior, and spent hours upon hours at various parks and nature reserves to study the slippery creatures with his own two eyes. And true to his word, Jongin had drawn frogs galore, in every shape and size possible, which had culminated in the most comprehensive art portfolio of frogs that had ever existed.

He had drawn frogs in active motion: jumping, swimming, climbing, stretching, and catching flies.

He had drawn the entire life cycle of a frog, from egg to adult and everything in between, in painstaking detail.

He had drawn poisonous frogs in the brightest of colors and nontoxic frogs in beautiful earthy tones.

While the centerpiece of the amphibian branch had been drawn in sepia ink, like the other sections of his portfolio, Jongin had taken liberties to shade most of his monochromatic drawings with sienna-pigmented hard pastels. The rich reddish-brown tones he’d added had allowed him to play with a three-dimensional effect, causing the drawings to seemingly jump out of the pages like real frogs. The warm earthy shades were eye-catching, refined, and grounded the drawings in a way that left Jongin’s classmates astounded at how their zany paintings of salamanders, newts, and caecilians paled drastically in comparison.

And, truth be told, it had been a nice lesson to teach.

Yes, he could create a majestic drawing with a majestic subject like the cinereous vulture.

Yes, he could highlight a unique creature like the chromatically diverse cuttlefish.

But to showcase the common frog like it was the most exotic animal on the planet and do so successfully?

That took true skill.

And Jongin remembered how he had haughtily walked around the exhibition hall at the end of the semester, critically eying his classmates’ portfolios and seeing none of them measure up to his. No matter how hard they’d tried, there had been a clear skill gap between him and everyone else.

And that certainly hadn’t curried him any favor amongst his peers.

Not that he cared. Not at all back then and most definitely not now.

And yet, in his mind’s eye, Jongin could see Kyungsoo sorrowfully staring back at him, slight admonishment painting his youthful features.

He could hear Kyungsoo softly asking why the artist chose to build such insurmountable barriers between himself and those he deemed “less than.” Why he chose to leave them stranded on shore instead of letting them rise with the tides alongside him.

And Jongin had no answer to these unspoken hypotheticals.

It was…just how it had always been.

Kim Jongin against the world.

Simple as that.

“Does that…make you happy?”

The ophthalmologist’s gaze bore into his mind, deep as the sea and steady as stone.

And Jongin’s chest constricted again as he imagined soaring into the heavens, high above everyone else.

But once he reached the top, there was no one else.

Without Sehun, without Yixing, without Jongdae.

And most of all, without Kyungsoo.

Suddenly, a loud splash jolted Jongin out of his mind prison and he blearily looked back at the lakeshore again, just in time to witness the frogs clambering out of the mud and into the cool water. The baby ducklings squawked wildly, furiously peddling away as their play area was invaded by the slick amphibians.

The ripples in the water created small crashing waves in all directions that gradually melded into each other. And the frogs leisurely began paddling across the expansive lake, easily maneuvering away whenever a duckling swam too close.

As he sat up in his seat and stretched his long limbs, Jongin smiled wryly to himself upon realization that, unlike the blissfully unbothered frogs, there was no chance he’d be able to avoid his ophthalmologist, even if he wanted to.

His next eye appointment was in two weeks. Kyungsoo would be back by then.

And the thought of that was both terrifying and exhilarating at equal levels.

What would Jongin say to Kyungsoo now that he had somewhat come to terms with these intense feelings that plagued him day and night?

How could Jongin look Kyungsoo in the eye and pretend that nothing had changed, when everything was different now?

Would Kyungsoo even notice? Would Kyungsoo be able to see right through him

Would Kyungsoo even care?

A shiver ran down Jongin’s spine at the high probability of rejection.

After all, what could he provide to Kyungsoo that others couldn’t?

What kind of happiness could he bring to Kyungsoo’s life when he could barely bring any happiness to his own?

Why on earth would Kyungsoo ever return his feelings, when all Jongin knew was darkness and anger?

The math simply didn’t add up.

Jongin groaned as he clutched his forehead and let out a deep sigh.

There he went again. Letting the negativity seep into every corner of his mind, into every inch of his body.

God, it really was exhausting living life this way.

Why couldn’t he just…let go like the frogs did?

Even though they had mired themselves deep into the thick mud, the carefree amphibians had still been able to pull themselves out of the earth with grace and ease. The frogs had launched themselves into the clear blue water without a single thought, without a moment of hesitation. And they swam forward, always looking ahead to the future.

The amphibians, with their stalwart bravery and confidence, were admirable—which was something Jongin had never thought he’d ever admit.

But if an army of frogs could march onward into battle, then so could Kim Jongin. Right?

And yet, the thought of directly approaching Kyungsoo with his newfound feelings was not only incredibly daunting, but utterly frightening as well.

After all, rejection…did not yet exist in Kim Jongin’s dictionary.

But if Kyungsoo were the one to add the definition of it to a blank page…

The artist felt his heart lurch within his chest once more.

Nevertheless…letting fear control him couldn’t be the answer either.

Perhaps…

Perhaps…letting fear guide him was what Jongin needed instead.

To allow him to jump headfirst.

Without judgment and without fear.

It was certainly easier said than done, but…at the very least, he was no longer shying away from the road that lay in front of him.

Fog still swirled around him, dark and dense, but Jongin was now starting to see rays of light cut through the gray clouds.

And they illuminated the dirt path that beckoned him forward with the same shade of Kyungsoo’s dark brown eyes.

♈♈♈

A/N: HAPPY BIRTHDAY ALISON!! <3 Another year has FLOWN by and I just want to say that I'm SO SO SO proud of everything you've accomplished this year!! All of your studying and hard work has paid off, and you deserve all of the rest and relaxation you've been able to enjoy lately!! And I'm so happy that we've gotten to hang out more, whether it's playing TFT together into the wee hours of the night or reacting to all of the new EXO content we've gotten this summer!! SPEAKING OF EXO, THEY REALLY SAID, "WE'RE BACK," AND DIDN'T GIVE US A SINGLE SECOND TO BREATHE. I'M STILL NOT OVER ANY OF THE LIVE STAGES THEY THREW AT US. AND KYUNGSOO REALLY SAID, "THIS IS MY 30, Y ERA," BECAUSE HOLY COW, THAT DEEP V????? I STILL CAN'T BELIEVE WE SAW ALL OF THAT ON LIVE TELEVISION!!!!! He is the gift that keeps on giving this year, with all of his acting promotions, the EXO group content, and his upcoming solo comeback ^^ I hope you know that you are loved and cherished, not only today, but every single day, and that I am always here in your corner!! Through rain or shine, through hurricanes and earthquakes, I'm your biggest fan and number one supporter!! And I can't wait to sing our rendition of EXO's Killing Voice at our next karaoke night, hehe ^^ It's gonna be LEGENDARY~ Anyway, you're the best and I'm so excited to hang out with you soon!! Have an amazing birthday, you amazing soul!! <3