“You should end it. It got too far,” Jisoo started.
 

“What do you mean?”, asked Taemin emotionlessly.
 

“Stop isolating yourself and don’t let your thoughts consume you. This is what I mean. You should seek for help. Go back to a therapy. I've found a good psychologist.”

“What the hell are you talking about? I'm perfectly fine. I just want to be alone, is that
a crime?”, Taemin's eyes changed from dull into angry and sparkling.

“It's not. But is undoubtedly not normal. Specifically, it's a disorder.”

“Since when missing someone is a disorder? Come on, make it clear for me! Wasn't it you, who told me it was okay to feel longing?”
           

“When did I tell you that?”, Jisoo widened up her eyes.

 

“Back then, when I had a difficult time with my boyfriend. How could you forget that? What's wrong with you?!”
 

Jisoo looked at Taemin and wished she misheard him.

“Don't tell me... You still...”, Jisoo was searching for proper words. Nothing seemed good enough. She gave up on trying to say something and chose to take action.

Jisoo went to the bathroom and opened the closet above the sink.

Nothing.

Drawer next to the bathtub.

Nothing.

She ran to the kitchen and looked around.

She couldn't find it.
 

“MAY I ask you what you are doing?”, Taemin stood right beside her.
 

“Shut up”, she ignored her friend’s evil glance and angry voice.

Bedside cabinet, wardrobe, shelves. Nothing.

“You don't take any medicine,” she stated.

„I don't need it.”

“Oh, really? You DON'T need it? Look at you!”, she grabbed his arm and forced him to stand in front of a mirror.

 

“This is not you. This is not Teamin I know. You don't take your medicine, you don't want to see a doctor. You look like a wreck. I'm going to call your parents and take you to the hospital. It's over.”

Taemin was furious, so furious he couldn't express himself, couldn't say a word.

It really was over.
 

If Jisoo weren't his old friend, he wouldn't even let her in.

Or maybe he wanted to be rescued?

Maybe there was a bit of sanity in this body, possessed by memories of the scent.

 

If he took a few steps further, one by one, slowly, maybe he could come back to his old self? And the memory of the scent would stop being only memory and become something material?