Ever since Seungcheol’s departure, everything had been awfully out of place.

Jihoon had always been a tidy person; not exactly a clean freak, but he felt more concentrated when things were in their rightful places.

He hadn’t folded a single piece of clothing in weeks, or even made his bed; his entire house was a mess. But nothing compared to the mess inside his head, the never ending over analyzing of every single detail of their relationship, trying to find the exact point where it all went wrong, the exact point where Seungcheol fell out of love with him.

Both had been bright eyed and naive when they met, two kids fresh out of high school, on their freshman year in college. None of that brightness or naivety were there when Seungcheol broke up with him.

After the intense heartbreak settled down into a permanent dull throbbing in the back of his head, Jihoon laughed bitterly at the fact that he remembered their break up with more clarity than the day they had met.

He hadn’t slept well the previous night, some higher power telling him that something was wrong, but he ignored it when he picked up his phone early in the morning, Seungcheol’s voice lulling him away from his stress. The elder asked to meet him up at a tiny coffee shop a few blocks down his street. He dressed up as quickly as possible in his state and ran out the door to meet his boyfriend.

The stern expression on Cheol’s face should have posed as a warning to Jihoon, but he ignored it all once again. It was only when the ice cold words spilled from Seungcheol’s lips that he finally realized what the dreadful feeling that kept him up all night was.

Every syllable the elder uttered felt like a stab to Jihoon’s soul, rendering him speechless. He didn’t plead the other to stay, didn’t ask any questions, only stared numbly ahead, watching as Seungcheol got up and left without a glance back towards him, accidentally bumping his hand against the cup of cold coffee on top of the table and spilling it all over.

He stayed frozen in his place for what felt like hours, his mind blank and his body aching. He couldn’t remember getting home, he couldn’t remember most of the things that had happened since that day.

Giving one last glance at his disaster of an apartment, Jihoon closed the door and left the building. His destination was set, and he didn’t carry a single thing with him, his body already heavy enough with all the things going a mile a minute in his head.

He calmly stepped on the yellow line that separated the platform from the rails, the train approaching fast. He took a step forward, letting his life end.

He swore he heard Cheol’s voice call out his name. Too late. He was no longer there.