A dark shadow loomed in the distance, walking, dragging his expensive, patent leather shoes along the damp sand. The torrid waves crashed against the jagged rocks. The sound of the water harshly slapping against the solid stone was deafening. He pulled the midnight blue trench coat tighter over himself, fighting off the inclement weather that was finding its way to his very bones, chilling his marrows. He had a cigarette in his right hand, a silver ring in the other. He slumped down on the sand, rested his elbows on his knees and covered his face with his hands.

This was how he found him. Leeteuk approached him wearily. He sat down silently and carefully beside the man, cautiously observing him. He watched as he lifted his head from his hands and released a long, shaky sigh. In his hand he was rolling back and forth a small ring. He dropped it in his pocket.

“He was depressed,” he said in a voice that was so unlike him. It was too sad, too broken. He was looking out at the vast expanse, his eyes glassy. It was either the frigid air was making his eyes run or he was trying to fight off the tears.

“Now, you don’t know that,” Leeteuk said warily. He watched the younger man take a long drag from his cigarette. He watched him take the nearly snuffed-out and throw it towards the sea. Kyuhyun released the smoke from his lungs slowly, forming a screen of white in front of his face.

“Oh, I know. He was—” Kyuhyun choked out, “—he was my roommate.”

He was sitting down on his bed, his fingers playing with a loose thread on the duvet. It was getting annoying how he was so quiet nowadays. The members were almost always on edge whenever they were around him. It wasn’t the normal, happy, bubbly Sungmin they knew. Once the cameras stopped rolling, once the fans were preoccupied, once they were offstage, the mask fell. That mask, the fake smile and the pretend happiness that he used to manipulate people, he ripped off once inside the safety of four walls, of his sanctuary: their room. He was suffering. He just couldn’t take being compared, being judged, being rejected. People always assumed he was happy. But no one even dared talk to him. No one dared to ask. Sigh.

He stood up and headed to the bathroom across the hallway. He stared at his reflection in the mirror, looking at the ghost of himself. The man in front of him had gaunt eyes, the rims tinted red; eyes dead. What once was flawless white skin was now pale and ashen. His sweet, pink lips were chapped and dry. He opened the medicine cabinet and his eyes fell on the box of razors safely tucked on the corner of the fourth shelf. He reached for it, took a razor and stared at it. A million thoughts were running through his mind. With shaky hands and tear-flooded eyes, he dragged the blade across his wrist. Sharp pain shot through his arm. A wince. A tear ran down his cheek. Red, crimson blood beaded from the incision he made. Another from his right wrist. Another cut. Rivulets of bright red blood streamed from the cuts he made, contrasting against his milky white skin. He was sobbing, his tears mixing with the blood dripping down on the white ceramic sink. It was better this way. Physical pain was much easier to bear than what he was feeling inside.

In that bathroom, in that moment, Sungmin’s life started to go downhill.

Sungmin was finally broken.

He took out the cigarette box from his pocket and drew out a stick. He put it to his lips while reaching for his lighter. Before he could light the stick, Leeteuk stopped him. He took the cigarette before Kyuhyun had the chance to react.

“Why are you even smoking?” Leeteuk reprimanded. Kyuhyun said nothing; he proceeded to extract another stick when Leeteuk swatted his hand away.

“What is your problem, hyung?” Kyuhyun bellowed out. He ran a hand through his windblown hair, frustrated out of his mind. He stood up and staggered away from the older man, his feet dragging and making lines in the sand.

“My problem?” Leeteuk scoffed. He stood up, put his hand on Kyu’s shoulder and forced him to turn around. “What is your problem?”

“You weren’t there, hyung!” Kyuhyun cried out. The raw emotions from his ragged voice overwhelmed Leeteuk making him remove his hand from Kyu’s shoulder. “You didn’t know anything. You—you weren’t there to see him lose faith in himself.”

Kyuhyun bowed his head and sobbed. Hard, heart-wrenching sobs wracked his body, his legs collapsing underneath him. He was dry-heaving, forcing air to enter his lungs and Leeteuk was hurting, watching him break down this way. He tilted his head up to the cloudy grey sky, asking God to help him. He crouched down and comforted Kyuhyun the best that he could, avoiding the need to cry himself.

Kyuhyun inhaled a great, shuddering breath, the cold, icy air circulating his lungs, the sensation of a thousand needles prickling him left him numb. He looked at the leader and said heart-breakingly, “You weren’t there to see him start slipping away.”

 They were eating by the island bar, feasting on the ice cream given by their fans. They were happily chatting with each other, faces smeared with different colours of ice cream. Kyuhyun stood up laughing with a spoon in hand, heading to the kitchen to call for Sungmin.

“Hyung,” Kyuhyun called. He saw Sungmin by the sink, washing the dishes silently. “Come eat with us.” Kyuhyun placed the spoon by the counter and wrapped a hand on Sungmin’s left wrist. He tugged him to make him move. Sungmin winced and withdrew his hand from Kyuhyun’s grip as fast as he could. Kyuhyun watched him rub his wrist through the long sleeves he was wearing and watched the rims of his eyes slowly turn pink. Something was wrong.

“Ming,” he said softly, “is something wrong? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m okay,” Sungmin replied. He grinned widely at Kyuhyun but the smile never reached his eyes. There, the truth was written: all the things unsaid, all the things he was feeling; not the bull he was pretending he felt and was giving the other members. “I just got scared. You scared me.”

Kyuhyun didn’t believe him for a minute. Bull. He carefully took in his hand Sungmin’s left arm. With shaky, unsure fingers, he pulled up the sleeve of the sweater. He took a sharp gulp of air that stayed lodged in his throat. A plethora of cuts—some raw and red, some white and scarred—littered his arm. Angry, jagged red lines were slashed across his wrist, on top of the white and healed ones. Horrified, Kyuhyun looked up to see Sungmin’s reaction. Tears were streaming down his face and he was shaking his head back and forth. Don’t tell anyone, he mouthed. Kyuhyun ran a hand over the cuts and the scars, lightly flitting over the jagged tissue. The feel of the mutilated skin underneath his fingers made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. Bile was rising up his throat and he was doing his best to try and suppress a scream.

“Why are you doing this?” Kyuhyun managed to gasp out. Sungmin let out a sob and broke down. Kyu wrapped his arms around Sungmin, who was clutching his arm to his chest. Kyu listened to the older man’s muffled sobs and his hair, hushing him.

Sungmin was cracking in front of his very eyes.

Kyuhyun wasn’t supposed to be smoking. His lungs were weak, meticulous and smoking would kill him faster compared to other people. But there was something that a box of cigarette had that he wanted: that high. The rush that he felt was so good and it took away the pain. It was ing addicting. The nicotine numbed away the pain he felt and the high kept him distracted. It made the voices all the sounds, all the sobbing and all the screaming he hears in his head drown out.

He put a ciggy to his lips, lit it with a lighter and took a good, long drag. He watched the end smoulder, the orange and yellow light burning the tobacco, turning it into ashes. He could feel the smoke circulating in his lungs, the drug going into his bloodstream. He could feel his senses starting to numb, the pain he felt ebbing away. The voices still weren’t drowning out.

Kyuhyun’s eyes shot open. He was asleep after a long day recording for a new single. He had gone straight into the empty bedroom and fell asleep. He didn’t know why he woke up but it definitely must be something. He was about to close his eyes when he heard it. It was a sound of muffled breathing. It was hard and heavy, but muffled. If the room wasn’t so quiet, he would’ve missed the sound altogether.

He sat up from the bed, and looked around the room. Nothing. He couldn’t see anything that would possibly produce that noise—unless. He got out of the bed and quietly walked over to Sungmin’s bed. He saw tears streaming down his face, and he was unconsciously stuffing his fingers in his mouth, pathetically trying to drown out the screams and the sobs building in his throat.

Kyuhyun was frozen in his spot. He didn’t know what to do. He ran to his bed, pulled the covers over his head and pressed a pillow hard over his ears. That was the sound haunting his dreams. It was sobbing. All the screaming, the sobbing and the pain that plagued his dreams weren’t really just in his dreams, they were real.

His nightmares were real.

“Kyuhyun, you’re killing yourself,” Leeteuk said.  “Stop it, please.”

Kyuhyun just took another drag, nearly finishing off the cigarette.

“Sungmin wouldn’t want this,” Leeteuk pleaded.

“I don’t give a ,” Kyuhyun spat out. “He never thought about what I wanted when he left me—when he left us.”

“You don’t blame the dead, Kyu,” the leader reprimanded softly.

“I just don’t get it, hyung,” he said desperately. “Why’d he do it? H-he had me, he had us and the fans and his family. I-I just—”

“Maybe no one knew him enough. We all thought he was happy, Kyu.”

“I knew him enough, hyung.” Kyuhyun’s voice trembled as he spoke to the leader. “I did. No one knew him like I did.”

“Then you wouldn’t be smoking yourself to death, Kyu. Because we both know he wants you to live,” Leeteuk reasoned out.

“And we both know,” Kyuhyun countered, “that I’m not that strong. I need him, hyung.”

Kyuhyun could feel the tears welling up in his eyes. He looked at Leeteuk and he saw tears in his eyes as well. As tears leaked down his face, Kyu said, “‘Life is too short for so much sorrow’ was the last thing he told me. Hyung, it hurts so much. I could’ve saved him. I thought I saved him.”

“Kyuhyun, you can’t blame yourself for what happened to Sungmin,” Leeteuk comforted.

“You don’t get it hyung,” Kyuhyun retorted with a bitter laugh. His laugh disintegrated into sobs, small, pathetic sobs shaking him. “You weren’t the one holding him when he died.”

Kyuhyun entered the room that he shared with Sungmin. He the lights and lightly set his shoes on the rack. He dropped his bag on the bed and flopped down, whistling as he took off his scarf.

“Sungmin, how was your day?” Kyuhyun happily asked. “Shooting was tiring, as usual. Seunghwan hyung slept through the entire shoot so I had to handle everything by myself. And the CEO called. They said you have an upcoming drama. Isn’t that great?”

Kyuhyun took peeled off the jacket he was wearing, waiting for Sungmin’s response. That’s weird. Sungmin always replied whenever he was asked. “Sungmin hyung?” Kyu asked.

He looked towards Sungmin’s direction and saw him sprawled on the bed, on top of the duvet. Kyu walked to where he was and saw a wet patch on the duvet near his eyes. He’d been crying again. He shook him lightly, trying to wake him up. He wasn’t moving. He rolled Sungmin on his back. His chest wasn’t going up and down like it was supposed to. He pressed his ear to Sungmin’s chest, listening for any signs of a heartbeat. Silence. Other than his own rapid breathing, he heard nothing. He was panicking. Then he heard it. A faint thumping sound. He scampered, trying to stand up, ready to call for help. As he stood, an orange bottle fell from the bed and rolled on the floor, stopping by his sock-clad toes. Sleeping pills.

Kyuhyun carried Sungmin’s limp body in his arms and barrelled out of the door. His legs were shaking so hard he nearly tripped and dropped Sungmin on the hard floor. His knees gave way and he collapsed, hugging Sungmin’s body tightly. He grabbed Sungmin’s arms and dragged him across the hallway to the bathroom.

“Don’t you die out on me, Sungmin! Don’t you die!” Kyuhyun pleaded.

He opened the shower over the bathtub. He got in it and dragged Sungmin’s body in, the ice cold water pelting down on his back. The water soaked through their clothes and Kyu hoped that maybe the cold will wake him. He wrapped his arms around Sungmin’s waist and squeezed. He squeezed and squeezed as hard as he could. He was sobbing and freezing and he couldn’t even comprehend what was happening.

“Sungmin please don’t die,” Kyuhyun sobbed out.

He opened Sungmin’s mouth and shoved two numb fingers down his throat. He felt him weakly gag. He shoved his fingers deeper and he felt Sungmin move forward. He withdrew his fingers from his mouth and watched him puke on the side of the bathtub.

He released a sigh of relief as he watched him vomit water and bile and the pills he had taken. Sungmin fell on Kyu’s chest. His head lolled to the side and he stopped moving. His hand that was gripping the side of the sink slipped away, landing lifelessly on Kyu’s leg. Kyu tapped his frozen cheeks in an attempt to make him move but nothing happened.

“No, no, no, no, no!” Kyuhyun croaked out. He pressed a finger to Sungmin’s jugular, trying to find a pulse. Nothing. He reached out to take Sungmin’s arm and looked for a pulse on his slashed wrist. Nothing. He was gone.

“No!” Kyuhyun howled out. He screamed, crushing Sungmin tightly to his chest. His tears mixed with the cold water and he couldn’t feel the lower half of his body. The water overflowed, the floor mirroring the sad sight. He looked up to see the other members by the doorway, watching him cradle a dead Sungmin in his arms. Behind tear-glazed eyes he saw the pain he was feeling being mirrored in the face of the eight people standing.

Sungmin was dead.

Kyuhyun took out the last from his cigarette box and lit it. He shakily held it near his lips. His body was craving for the drug, for the pain to go away, for the high to come fast. But he couldn’t breathe anymore. If it was from the smoking or the chest-crushing grief, he wasn’t sure.

“He died in my arms. He died safe, secure... loved.” Kyuhyun threw the burning cigarette out to the sea. He watched as the harsh waves ate the stick, grinding and turning it into a pulp.

He looked behind him and saw Leeteuk standing with the other members. It was time to leave. They were walking towards the van that was to take them to the service, where he would deliver the eulogy. He looked back to the sea one more time. He imagined Sungmin’s smiling face, the way he looked whenever laughed.

“I love you. Remember. They cannot take it.”   

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A/N: I do not own any of the characters. I only own the plot. I wish I owned Kyuhyun or Heechul though. The last line of this oneshot is the last line from a lovely book entitled Delirium by Lauren Oliver. It's a nice read. 

It feels nice to be back. :3 And hey people, read my recent blog entry. Thank you!

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