Now I'm in over my head, with something I said, completely misread, I'm better off dead.

I lay still in my comparably cold sheets the next morning as realization pounced upon me.

Hae wasn’t in bed with me.

I frowned, an almost invisible crease of my brows, as I fumbled in the golden-y sheets as if he would grow like a vine from the cotton and envelop me like he usually did. He always came and woke me up. Well, almost always. Maybe I was reading into this too much. I sighed and stretched like an old cat in my mussed up sheets before springing over to my closet.

I wandered into the kitchen and successfully smashed my face on the cupboard door, which was swinging open. Wondrous. I glared at Yesung but he barely noticed. He was too busy pouring the milk over his cereal to reach just the right height.

“Morning, Hyukjae.”

“Shut the up with your enthusiasm, Sungmin.”

He just sneered at me and went back to rifling through the fridge. His hair was sticking up in all directions and his socks were mismatched. I raised a brow but decided to just let it go. I picked up a bowl, tipped some cereal into it and snatched the milk of Yesung with a chuckle.

What an odd little man.

“So…where’s uh, where’s Hae?” I questioned, suddenly meek as I caught Sungmin’s expression.

“What, Hyukjae? Your own personal groupie and bed warmer is finally realizing you don’t treat him nearly as well as you should?”

I stilled, my spoon dipped halfway into my soggy breakfast. Round, sepia images of Donghae staring at me across a busy room and sending me a beaming smile slipped into my mind. Had I always been this unobservant? Did he not catch the looks I gave him? Sure I was a ton less obvious then him but, never?

“,” I muttered sullenly.

Sungmin just scoffed.

“So…where is he?”

“At the dance studio, where you should be right now.” He bit back, stifling evil laughter as I shot up from the table and tripped up on my chair, tearing around the corner and down the stairs to meet the waiting van.

The whole day he flittered like a moth with one wing away from me. His one good wing beating on the windows and trying to carry him away. I called out for him, I sent for him, but he ignored me.  So I practiced and organized and rehearsed and concentrated, but even then, I couldn’t get the thought of my boyfriend off my mind.

We sat backstage and I chewed angrily on the lip of my bottle, the plastic warping beneath my bite. Normally this would be our snuggle time, the time when there is no distinction between where I start, and he ends. Me showering him with open-mouthed kisses and he playing with my fingers like a curious child.

“Hyung,” Sungmin’s voice startled me suddenly, “what’s the matter?”

“I want to hold Donghae,” I grumbled, my eyes still