[I want to break up with you.]

Luhan reads the text again, his eyes blinking several times before he realises that they’re not playing tricks on him. He reads it over and over…and over…and over…

I want to break up with you.

I want to break up with you.

Luhan can feel the tears pricking at his eyes. He can feel his heart twisting in agony inside his chest.

He can’t breathe.

Droplets begin to form on the screen, blurring the text; blurring everything except for the word he doesn’t want to see. They seem to magnify it.

Breakup.

Why does Sehun want to leave him?

Did he do something wrong?

He doesn’t love him anymore?

Luhan tries to clear the tears off the screen with his thumb; he wants the text to miraculously change, change into something Sehun would usually send him…hyung? When are you coming home? I’m hungry…but he’s shaking too much. His thumb presses so hard into the plastic, the phone begins to writhe in agony and black bruises form on the screen. Luhan smacks the phone into the table when the black clears and he’s staring face to face with the same heartbreaking message.

He places both hands on the table to support his trembling legs - his head hung low, his eyes closed. But after a second he gives up trying to be strong and slides to the floor, his limbs painfully crashing with the unsympathetic wooden flooring.

After what appears to hours of silence and pounding heartbeats, Luhan finally brings himself to his feet. His eyes are raw and there are bruises on his palms from his fingernails, where his fists had been clenched so tightly, he thought he was going to break every bone in his hand.

There’s no-one in the dance-room but him. Everybody had left ages ago.

Luhan stares dimly out the intrusive arch window at the end of the hall. The light from the sidewalk reflecting against the dust-smothered glass tells Luhan where he would normally be at this time. He glances at the clock sitting on the wall, hesitantly; he doesn’t want to be reminded, but he is.

7:30pm  

Dinner-time with Sehun.

Just like last night.

And the night before that.

And all the nights back from when Sehun had sheepishly asked Luhan…I don’t really know how to cook…but we can always order pizza if you want?

Luhan remembers.

Wow. You weren’t kidding when you said you couldn’t cook.

I’m sorry Hyung. Do you want to order out?

Only tonight. Every night from now on…I’ll cook.

Until tonight.

Despite the fact his heart will probably never heal properly again, Luhan slings his bag over his shoulder and kicks it under the table, along with all the other forgotten dreams, pasts and memories.

If he is going to ask Sehun why he doesn’t love him anymore, he doesn’t want to feel it break even more.

He travels slowly, a broken silhouette trudging under dimly-lit streets, not even one star in the sky to guide his way home.

Will he even be there?