He was sitting cross-legged on the couch, a book in his hands, the one he had once gotten from a fan. It was unusual for him to read, since there was rarely something that would be interesting enough to capture his full attention to the point of him forgetting his surroundings, even time.
Only the lamp next to the couch and the silent flickering of the TV screen lit up the dark room, the swish of paper, whenever he traced the pads of his fingers over the rough structure of the pages to turn them, the only sound disturbing the calm. At least until he heard something drop to the floor, the noise loud and sudden enough to make Himchan jump with fright and search the tiles for whatever that had caused it.
He heaved a sigh when he spotted the remote and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms, before looking at the clock on the wall. It was already late or early, if one would insist, so he scanned the room again, realizing that everyone had been long gone to their respective rooms, by now probably safely wrapped up in their dreams like in fluffy warm blankets. All except for one.
Daehyun was sitting on the other side of the couch, his body huddled up against the upholstery, his neck bent into an uncomfortable angle, which forced the younger to dig his chin into his chest. It was only then that Himchan noticed the low, steady sound of Daehyun’s breathing, a monotonous rhythm which matched his own.
Daehyun looked so young in his sleep, his expression so unlike the strained one he usually showed during their performances. Himchan couldn’t help but smile, after all he loved his dongseangs, even the little Jung who was the iest of all.
The boy had been too much for him to handle, his mind too complicated and most of the time unreadable. That’s why he left it up to Bang leader to understand him and deal with his moods, which Yongguk had managed quite well until now.
But lately something seemed off. Himchan was surprised he had noticed the subtle lack of interaction himself. Still, he tried to brush it off until everything seemed to have finally reached its peak. It was a first for him to see Yongguk in such a state, but what bothered him the most was the expression Daehyun had shown. It was as if Himchan was for once allowed to get a glimpse of the piled up wracks of the younger’s soul, where he found something that wasn’t meant for anyone but Yongguk only.
Guilt was written all over Daehyun’s face, misshaped letters deeply ingrained into his skin, permanent and irremovable by anyone but his leader. Himchan didn’t like it, especially the shadows of something that was hovering just beneath the ugly, obvious truth, which he tried to blind out like a filter. But it was no use, deep inside Himchan could sense them, those usually invisible emotions and he couldn’t stand the fact that they were actually there and had probably always been.
A deep frown etched into his flawless features as lingering remains of irritation surged up within him, Daehyun’s soft breathing suddenly too loud and too much for him to bear.