It is only when the first rays of sunlight pierce through the curtains that Chanyeol realizes he has worked through the night. He clicks the laptop off, and almost screams out loud at his reflection in the dark screen. Bloodshot eyes. Pale skin. He looks like a zombie.

Chanyeol stands up, stretching. His head feels heavy; like his neck is too weak to support it anymore. “Baekhyun?” he calls out, walking out of his office. The house is strangely silent. None of Baekhyun’s soft, steady breaths; no whirr of the fan.

Chanyeol pushes the door to their bedroom open, to see an empty bed and a note.

His heart plummets.

His blood turns to ice.

Is he gone?

Chanyeol cannot move from the doorway. His fists are clenched at his sides, and his legs have seemingly grown roots. He can see it happening: Baekhyun packing all his clothes into his bags. Baekhyun writing and re-writing the note. Baekhyun walking out, trying to be as quiet as possible.

With legs that move of their own accord, Chanyeol walks to the bed and picks the note up with trembling fingers.

Heading out for some air, brb.

And it is as if Chanyeol can breathe again after a hundred years of suffocation.

“Chanyeollie?”

Chanyeol turns around, and pulls Baekhyun into his arms, hugging him so close that their hearts beat into each other’s chests.

“Wh-what’s wrong?” Baekhyun says into Chanyeol’s chest.

“I- I thought-”

Baekhyun pulls away, because Chanyeol’s voice is dangerously choked.

“I’m right here,” Baekhyun says, a hand on Chanyeol’s jaw. “You won’t get rid of me that easily.” He Chanyeol’s cheeks, his dark circles. “Go sleep, Chanyeol-ah,” Baekhyun whispers. “I’ve got to get ready for college.”

“Where did you go?”

“I- I just went out for a walk, Chanyeol, it was-”

But Chanyeol’s eyes are sad; so sad, that Baekhyun cannot take his lie any further.

“Fine,” He says. “I was at Kibum’s place.”

“Wh-why?”

“I wanted to talk to someone, that’s all,” Baekhyun assures him. “Go to bed, Park Chanyeol. I’ll tell you all about it later, okay?” Baekhyun shoves Chanyeol into the bed.

Chanyeol smiles weakly, snuggling into the bedcovers. “Goodnight, Baek,” Chanyeol says. Baekhyun presses a kiss to Chanyeol’s nose, and tucks him in. “Goodnight, Chan.”

Baekhyun sits at the kitchen table, sipping at his orange juice and pushing the eggs around on his plate. Where could we go? His textbooks are open next to his plate, but his mind is far, far away.

He spears the eggs onto his fork and bites into it, staring out the window.

Before leaving to college, Baekhyun peeks into Chanyeol’s bedroom, a small amused grin blooming on his face. Chanyeol, being too tall for the bed, has his legs hanging off the edge, the blanket spread haphazardly over his long body. His hair is a mess, his mouth slightly open and his breaths steady.

Baekhyun feels his heart squeeze. He wants to dive into Chanyeol’s arms, cuddle into his chest and let his strong arms wrap around his waist.

But he takes a deep breath and steps out, closing the door softly.

Baekhyun revs his car, the car Chanyeol had begged him to take for a whole month before Baekhyun had finally conceded.

Jeju island? Busan? Macau?

Baekhyun shake