The two stare each other down.

Taemin’s expression is glassy. It’s blank, so blank Kibum finds it difficult to tell what he’s actually thinking about but nonetheless, he tries his best to try to decipher his thoughts and feelings. It’s like a puzzle which is impossible to solve, but then again it’s not as if it’s impossible per se, because for puzzles to be created in the first place there must be a building block in which to create the puzzle from, so therefore they can always be broken down and -- wait, he has lost his train of thought.

Kibum’s expression is schooled into a deep, unsatisfied frown. He’s standing with his smooth hands on his hips, forming a slight crease in the shirt he wears. Standing above the other and staring down like a judge before a defendant, he’s merciless in his remarks.

“I… don’t like you.” Kibum begins.

Taemin is silent.

“You’re a hindrance, really.” He sneers.

Taemin is silent.

“Seriously, I should throw you out already.” His voice begins to waver here, but he presses on anyway.

“You’re worthless.”

“Nothing.”

“An eyesore.”

The words pile on and on, a stack of shapes of all colours and sizes that grows progressively more wobbly and unsteady as it grows, and finally, it all comes crashing down back to ground zero state, and Kim Kibum reaches down and scoops up Taemin into his arms.

No matter how one may grow and mature, in the end it’s impossible to depart with your best friend from your younger years.

Taemin may have arms of fur and cotton stuffing, but Kibum loves him all the same.