Jongin prepares only the basic necessities, stuffed into a bag which had seen far better; and he waits for that moment when Dawn and Night meet, Dawn's bright fingers curling over the edges of Night's dark frame, pushing her down until she is the predominant being, filling the sky with her radiance.

He takes one last look at his room, his home for a long number of moments coalesced to become years; says goodbye to the books littering the desk; pays homage to his bed, soft downy covers arranged meticulously, like he'd never laid upon its form; he presses his forehead against the door, knowing with a firm realization that there is no going back.

And he goes.

He tiptoes, keen on not arousing the attention of his cousins, taking care not to step at the creaky floorboards of his home; he stops momentarily when he sees his uncle once again, and guilt rushes through him.

He bites his lip, weighing the decisions. With a heavy heart, he steps close, intent on thanking the man who had become his father.

"Uncle?" he implores, placing a hand on his uncle's arm.

He flinches, drawing back his fingers abruptly when he feels frigid flesh.

It's not possible, no, no---

Jongin presses his hand to his mouth, biting back his scream. He's trembling violently, tearing up again when he scrutinizes his uncle's form.

He's not moving.

He's not breathing.

His uncle's face is frozen in the seamless depiction of grief. His eyes are dilated, the bluish veins protruding from his pale skin, mouth slightly open in a silent scream.

Jongin shakes his head, willing the image to fade, but it doesn't. It burns his retinas, searing his mind.

He gasps, scrabbling to his feet.

Jongin runs, and never looks back.

His mother's sun kissed arms wrap around him, enveloping him all consuming warmth. She smells like comfort, of fresh grass of the morning, or of newly toasted bread in the kitchen, with the sun shining strong, warming the skin as he took a bite. Jongin burrows in her arms, her affection lulling him to sleep.

She kisses his cheek.

"I love you, mom."

And she's a bright scarlet masterpiece, painted on the canvas of the streets.

His father ruffles his hair, laugh loud and reverberating, pressing a kiss to Jongin's forehead.

"I love you."

And he's a body stiff with death, fingers locked together in mimicry of a funeral.

His aunt sings lullabies, melodious voice stringing a rhythm pleasing to Jongin's ears. She runs her hand through his hair, lulling him to drowsiness as she bids him goodnight.

"I love you mama."

And he sees his uncle forlornly waiting to see his aunt's shadow cross the streets.

His uncle grabs him by the shoulders, the heaviness of his arms a measure of reassurance for a flighty boy. His uncle pats him on the head, gracing him with a smile worth millions.

"Uncle, please. I love you. I need you."

And his uncle is perpetually a sculpture, preserved into a memento of woe, skin glacial with the Zephyr's relentless breath.

And Jongin runs, faster and faster, willing his feet to pick up. He grunts, pressing a hand to the stitch in his side, unwilling to stop lest reality catch him, seductive call picking at his threadbare heart, whispering verities on his ear: Murderer. Killer. Destroyer.

"Nononono---" he gasps, blinded by his own tears, ignoring the burning of his lungs. His arms start aching, his bag thumping painfully on his back.

"It's not me, it's not me, it's not it's not it's not--" he mutters under his breath like a prayer, closing his eyes forcefully and blocking out the unwanted memories.

Jongin stumbles on the uneven streets with a grunt of pain, knees scraping on the pavements, palms bruised as he pushes himself up again. He wipes away the tears of frustration from his eyes, rubbing them vigorously----

And suddenly, he slams into another body, velocity lending force to the impact as Jongin skids to a stop a few feet away, elbows and tailbone bearing the brunt of collision. He gasps in pain, feeling the skin of his elbows tear, blood spilling from the wounds; he feels the vibrations of the sting on his spine, and he groans pitifully, pain overriding the conflict in his mind.

He sees a shadow cross over his field of vision and he glances up, seeing the slight figure cross his arms menacingly. His antagonistic companion had stoicism painted on his face, pale skin encased in clothes which had seen better days.

It is a boy of his age, Jongin concludes through the haze of pain in his mind.

"That hurt you ing ." the boy bites out, staring at Jongin's fallen form on the floor.

Jongin sits up with a wince, pressing trembling fingers unto his torn skin, stemming the blood flow.

The boy scoffs. "Don't you have eyes, damn you, so you could see where the ing hell you're going?"

Jongin coughs, feeling like he's swallowing a mouthful of sand, throat dry and parched like the Sahara. "I---"

"You can't even properly apologize, you dickhead." the boy says, nudging Jongin with his foot.

Jongin steps to his feet abruptly, regretting the action when he feels his legs start shaking. His vision starts flickering.

"I'm so--" he starts.

He's suddenly weightless, and Jongin feels like he's careening to the ground.

His eyes roll into the back of his head as darkness swoops down on him like a phantom.

Jongin is rudely awakened by the splash of arctic water on his face.

He coughs violently, curling to his side, retching the water which entered his mouth.

"Are you done?" The boy deadpanned. Jongin twisted his head abruptly and he sees the boy crouching above him, hand with a paper cup, explaining the source of the cold water which splashed on his face.

Jogin nods warily, inching away, as the boy snorts, throwing the cup. Jongin's eyes follow where it lands morosely a few feet away.

"You don't even have the decency to thank me for dragging your sorry here."

Jongin sits up, wincing as vertigo assaults him. He presses his fingers to his temples, rubbing them vigorously in attempt to downplay the storm brewing inside his head.

Glancing at the boy peripherally, Jongin bows shamefacedly as he stutters-"Thank you---"

"SeHun."

"Thank you, SeHun." Jongin repeats, a small smile breaking out on his face in what he hopes is one of gratitude. "I'm Jongin."

SeHun just nods, expression unchanging. Silently he stands, rummages through a box as Jongin waits for a cue, emitting a small shriek of surprise when a towel lands smack dab on his face.

"Uh, SeHun--" Jongin asks hesitantly, but the boy ignores him, walking towards the door until he takes one last look at Jongin's trembling form.

"Sleep." SeHun commands, before pivoting on his heel, never looking back.

For what seems like hours later, Jongin yawns and tiptoes to his feet, glancing around apprehensively.

He'd evidently fallen asleep, sky already bright with shimmering blues and the translucent color of the sun from where it was shining weakly from a small window.

Only through the brightness does he see the chaotic state of the room--- tires were stacked carelessly on top of one another, looking like it would tip over by the mere rush of a strong wind. Boxes were littering the place, and from beyond the proximity of the sunlit spaces Jongin could see dust accumulating; like someone hadn't bothered to clean the whole place up.

There was only the most basic of necessities-- he counts the cot on which he's lying upon as one, some clothes strewn on the box where he remembers SeHun has rummaged for the towel Jongin now holds in his hands as another. There was a box set near the center of the room, sunlight shining on it like a halo, covered by what seems to be designed by fumbling hands as a table cloth, and Jongin belatedly realizes that it's the makeshift dining table.

The place was bare and bereft of comfort.

Even so, the place looked lived in, like someone had spent years trying to make a life, a home, from cardboard boxes and abandoned warehouses near the harbor in the outskirts of town.

Jongin walks the perimeter, glancing curiously at SeHun's things, all the while looking for the wayward presence of the boy who'd saved him.

"What the are you doing?" a voice intones and Jongin wheels around, clamping a hand over his rapidly beating heart.

SeHun looks at him, eyebrow raised as he crossed his arms. Jongin flushes when he realizes he's been caught.

"I was looking around, and you weren't here---"

SeHun snorts. "What am I supposed to do here, then? Watch you sleep?"

Jongin shuffles his feet on the floor nervously. "I--"

"Whatever. Why are you still here?" SeHun asks. "Go back to your family already."

His question is met with silence, perturbation filling the air like a dark cloud. Jongin looks down on the floor, fists at his sides, shoulders drawn in close.

SeHun frowns, brushing past Jongin roughly. The latter is silent, his form the perfect ensemble to the disquiet lingering in the air.

SeHun deposits his things on the table, arranging them meticulously while Jongin watches on, ignoring the sudden gnawing of his stomach as the smell of food wafts into his nostrils. SeHun eats silently, only the sound of his chopsticks clicking against his bowl filling the room. Jongin stands disconcertedly, swallowing dryness.

Jongin realizes he's not eaten a single bite.

After a while, SeHun huffs in distaste. "Looking at you is making me lose my appetite."

Jongin bites his lip, watches as SeHun carefully arranges his chopsticks above his bowl of half eaten rice.

"I'm going to sleep." SeHun announces to dead air, before clambering to his cot, curling unto his side as soon as he's comfortable.

Jongin waits in the silence, counting the half beats of his heart as he sees SeHun's chest rise and fall in tandem to his breathing. He stands, hesitant, before brushing away the cloak of indecision and sitting on the spot warmed by SeHun's own body, facing the half eaten food.

Jongin feels like it’s the first time he sees sustenance, and with fingers trembling slightly, he takes one bite, closing his eyes in almost happiness.

The hunger returns with a vengeance at the first mouthful, and Jongin gobbles up the food rapidly, stuffing it into his mouth without his usual finesse to silence the churning of his stomach.

It's only a short while later when Jongin glances at the spotless bowl in amazement, shocked at his own capacity to down the food in a way he never had achieved before, in the security of his uncle's home.

He glances at SeHun briefly. The latter was still breathing rhythmically, chest rising and falling calmly. Jongin tiptoes around, careful not to wake SeHun. He washes the used dishes before depositing them on the table, carefully arranging them.

He eyes SeHun but the latter still has his eyes closed in what seemed like dreamless sleep.

Jongin stands quietly, wondering what he's supposed to do next, but nothing comes to him so he sits at the foot of SeHun's cot, glancing at his curled form. He stares at the curled lashes framing SeHun's eyes, the smooth, sloping planes of his cheeks, and the paleness of his skin, and for the first time he wonders about his saviour’s past.

He thinks he himself must be quite a sight, a boy with dementia in his eyes, running away from his own shadow in guilt.

He sighs, curling in on himself as he remembers his own tragic history in the making.

SeHun squints, opening his eyes halfway just to see the minuscule details of his surroundings without alerting Jongin to his wakefulness.

Not that he'd been asleep, really; he'd been waiting for the opportune moment for Jongin to go and accept what he'd left half eaten on the table, in an offering disguised by his own brusqueness.

He'd listened to the hearty bites of Jongin eating the scarce food, and not for the first time SeHun wonders about the boy who didn't look like he belonged on the streets.

Even now he's an alien being, a dark form against the bright sunlight of the afternoon. SeHun peeks again and Jongin is curled on his feet, hugging his knees with his head bent, silent and unmoving.

Yet SeHun could feel the waves of sadness lingering in the air around him.

SeHun wonders what he'll see if he meets Jongin's eyes.

Sighing, he closes his eyes, listens to Jongin's soft breathing.

He lets it bring him to sleep.

-----

that's it for the moment!

many thanks to my best friend,

who read this over for me. 

tell me what you think? :)