“Where have you been?" he asks when Jinwoo opens the door. It isn't that late - not later than usual, - but the room smells of whisky and loneliness and Minho is looking at him with glassed eyes. There isn't malice in his words, only a tight layer of remorse and envy, nothing he hasn't deal with before. It's just one of these days, the bad ones, but Jinwoo has been there, knows the demon by its name, knows how it devours the light and hopes from the core, leaving hollow spaces where something bright lingered before.