a/n: There might not be an update for awhile after this guys, sorry >< Anyways, be sure to tell me what you think! Enjoy~

        Kris leaned against the brick wall of the abandoned building, waiting. Goosebumps ran up and down his body, his nerves chilling him from the inside out. The nerves had overcome him the moment he realized he didn’t have his phone, and had tormented him throughout the day, making him jump at the slightest of noises. What was worse, neither Chanyeol nor any of his friends had shown up at school, so confirming a meeting was impossible. Kris could only assume that Chanyeol had gotten his text and would meet him at the building at five. He wanted to get this over with as soon as possible--he had a feeling that, if he went back to the apartment, he’d never come back, and Chanyeol and his friends would be as good as dead.

          So, right after school, Kris snuck away from Chen and Tao and ran to the building. He had been waiting there since four. It was six now--Chanyeol was an hour late, but Kris stayed. The sun was already low in the sky, and the street was oddly quiet. Not even the birds or crickets were chirping. Kris shivered again; every fiber of his being told him to run far, far away, and that staying here any longer would be stupid. But Kris forced himself to stay put. He was determined to meet with Chanyeol and expose Luhan, even if it killed--

           Suddenly, a huge weight fell on Kris’ back, sending him crumpling to the ground. Pain exploded in his right shoulder, and within seconds he could feel warm, sticky blood spreading across the back of his shirt and dribbling down his back. He barely had time to register what was happening before his assailant grabbed him by his hair, pulled his head back, then struck it on the ground. A crack rang through the air as pain jolted through Kris’ nose, and he knew it was broken.

            “W-who…?” Kris gasped before he felt steel edge of a knife resting against his throat.

            “I’d shut up if I were you,” a voice warned, as cold and sharp as the knife held at Kris’s neck.

            “Luhan,” Kris said, his voice flat. He wasn’t sure what he felt. All the anxiety and dread from the past few hours had left him, and they were replaced with a sad, resolved sort of emptiness, broken only by the pain filling his body. Part of him wanted to fight back, but he knew it was pointless, so why try? He was too tired to fight back, anyways.

            “So Kris,” Luhan hissed, so close that Kris could feel his lips brushing against his ear. He took the knife away from Kris’s throat, “Who are you waiting for, huh? A friend, perhaps?”

The knife plunged into Kris’s already injured shoulder, digging deeper than before, and he clenched his teeth, trying desperately not to scream as a new wave of pain washed over him.

“Well, go on, Kris. Asked me how I found out. Just ing ask.”

            “How…..how did you find out….” Kris choked out. Pain filled his body once more as Luhan quickly slid the knife out from his shoulder.

            “Why, I thought you’d never ask!” Luhan said with mock surprise, “Why, someone left his phone at the apartment~ Silly boy~ I guess he didn’t think I’d look through it, ahahaha.” He laughed, bitter and sarcastic.

            “Luhan, stop,” Kris said, “Just get this over with.”

            The laughter stopped immediately, and Kris’s face was smashed into the concrete once more. Except this time, it stayed there, pinned to the ground by a tiny but strong hand.

            “And why should I?” Luhan growled, “It’s more fun this way.”

            Kris felt the hand release his head and the weight lift off his back, but he stayed on the ground. Standing up sounded exhausting. All Kris wanted was for Luhan to finish this quickly.

            Luhan kicked his stomach and Kris rolled on his back, clenching his sides and attempting to curl up into a tiny ball to protect himself from more pain. He yelped when his injured shoulder made contact with the concrete. Luhan glared at him the whole time.

            “Stand up,” he ordered. Kris shook his head, tears streaming down his face. “Now. Or I’ll kick you again.”

            Kris gulped and breathed in, trying to find the strength to do what Luhan wanted. Why was he doing this, anyway? Couldn’t he just kill him and get it over with?

            He was overly aware of Luhan’s cold, unsympathizing gaze as he somehow managed to struggle to his feet, leaning one hand heavily against the building’s faded brick wall for support.

            Luhan was very clean. In fact, he practically glowed in the bright, orange light of the setting sun. There were only a few specks of blood on his shirt and in his air, and at his side he held the bloody knife. He stared at Kris, his perfect, beautiful eyes void of any emotion or soul.

            For a brief, crazy moment, Kris was reminded of the ‘angel of death’ he had read about once in some obscure children’s story. They said that the angel of death only appeared to those he meant to take from this world. He would steal your soul and carry you away into eternity.

            A strange calmness settled over Kris. He was going to die. And that was okay. It was funny, really: for his whole life, Kris had been fighting to avoid death. He killed other people, not because he wanted to, but because he needed to in order to survive. But really, Kris thought, suddenly seized by a fit of coughs, death was so much easier than fighting.

           Blood spurted from his mouth and dripped onto the concrete below. Kris looked up at Luhan, still doubled over, and wheezed.

           “Well,” Luhan said, after Kris was done, “This is clearly going to make it too easy,” he waved the knife carelessly in the air before opening his jacket and tucking it inside, “Instead, I think I’ll use this.”

           Luhan reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a long shard of glass, its edges sharp and jagged as lightning.

          “What--”

          “It’s a piece of a picture frame,” Luhan said, smiling, “But that isn’t really important, is it? The important thing is, it’s sharp. Look! It’s already cutting my hand!” he said, holding out his palm to Kris. The blood dripped down, staining his pale skin scarlet.

           Kris finally managed to stand up straight. His stomach was bruised and it felt like he had more than one broken rib. His face was covered in blood, and he couldn’t feel or move his right arm. He smiled, his cheeks aching from the effort.

           “Well,” he chuckled, trying not to gasp, “No sense in wasting anymore time. Come on,” he said, nodding at Luhan to finish what he started.

          In a second Kris was slammed into the brick wall besides him, a fist digging into his stomach, then slamming into his gut again and again and again. Blood filled his mouth and he spat it out, staining Luhan’s white shirt and splattering his face. Luhan punched him again, becoming increasingly more agitated.

         “Why aren’t you fighting back?” he shouted, stepping back from Kris, giving him a break from the beating. Kris just smiled at him, breathing hard, and not a moment later Luhan’s knee was slamming into his rib cage and he was falling on the ground, gasping. Luhan pounced on him, the shard of glass glinting dangerously in his hand. He grasped the front of Kris’s shirt and raised him up, shaking him.

         “Fight back, you idiot!” he yelled, a craziness filling his eyes.

         “No,” he whispered, “I won’t fight you, Luhan.”

         “Why not?” Luhan cried, his eyes wide with confusion. Kris smiled.

         “I promised to help you, .”

          Luhan roared at his words and brought the glass shard down, piercing Kris’s chest. He gritted his teeth, wanting to scream but unable to. The pain was too great; all he could do was writhe in agony.

         “Don’t with me,” Luhan whispered.

         “I’m….I’m not….” Kris choked out.

         “NO!” Luhan screamed, his voice cracking. He ripped the shard from Kris’s chest and stabbed again, the blood splattering onto his face, “YOU ARE! YOU’RE THE ONE WHO ING LEFT ME!”

         Kris didn’t respond. He could barely hear Luhan over his body’s screams.

        “YOU” another stab.

        “BROKE” and another.

        “YOUR” another.

        “PROMISE!” The final one, right underneath Kris’s ribcage. Luhan’s scream tapered off into a hoarse sob. Kris gasped and trembled when he felt hot tears dripping onto his face. He could feel himself dying, fading away with every ounce of blood that poured out of him, with every breathe he breathed.

         He forced his eyes open. Luhan was leaning over him, his shirt and face covered in sticky red blood. Even his eyes were red from crying.

        “Luhan,” Kris whispered, his voice shaky. Luhan stared back at him, clinging onto his every word, “I...I promised to help Luhan, not this...monster….”

        “I’m not a monster,” Luhan said, scowling and digging the glass shard deeper into Kris’s stomach. Kris gasped, his whole body shaking.

        “R-really…” he said, almost managing a laugh. He turned his eyes away from Luhan and looked up at the thin sliver of sky that was tucked between the two buildings, forever watching the alley. It wasn’t blue, but a vibrant, fiery orange which made the clouds look pink. Kris smiled, enjoying the view.

        “It’s sunset,” he whispered, a darkness clouding the edges of his vision, “I always liked suns--”

         The sentence faded into silence as Kris let out his last breath, his eyes permanently fixed upwards to the wide, unreachable sky.