(Don’t leave, don’t leave- can’t you stay by my side?
Lies, all lies- I don’t hear anything
I love you, I love you- can’t you show me those words?
I love you, I love you- will you love me again?

-JYJ  In Heaven)

--*--

“Will you be okay if I leave now? I have to attend some briefings with the company at ten.”

“Yeah, yeah it’s okay. I’ll be fine. Be safe on your way,” Sehun says, plunging the key into the lock and unlocking the dorm door. Hyun Kyun smiles warmly and pats his shoulder, before he retreats his back to walk down to the lift.

“Ah, Hyung,” Sehun calls out, making the older man turn around. “Please tell Taemin hyung that I’m doing fine if you see him. He’s been calling me nonstop since yesterday.”

Hyun Kyun nods. “Will do,” he says before continuing his walk down the corridors. Sehun waits until the man is out of sight before opening the door. The hinges creak when the door swings open and Sehun makes a mental note to oil them later. He takes a deep breath and switches on the lights.

It had been left like this since that day, not a single item moved. Sehun fights back the familiar sting forming in his eyes and inhales another deep breath, trying to calm himself. Being in the place that holds so many precious memories cuts open the still healing wounds and only create new, deeper ones.

It had been three weeks since their funeral.

Sehun was left devastated and utterly lost. It had been such a big news for everyone. For the past few weeks, every channel on the television were mostly broadcasting about the shocking accident-- of the truck driver’s trials and the police’s investigation. Sehun was too tired and beaten to comprehend what was even happening or follow the newest updates on the investigations. It was too much for him. It had been so sudden. Too sudden.

It had taken three depressing weeks for Sehun to finally accept the reality and get over with his mourning. The company had put his activities on hold until god knows when-- and that includes canceling his acting debut in KBS’s newest drama, but Sehun couldn’t quite care about that right now. They let him move back with his family, although some of his clothes and belongings are still left in the dorm.

And that is why Sehun is here now, standing in the middle of the once lively living room of the dorm. It feels empty, and dead. Sehun runs his fingers over the thin layer of dust on top of the television. The remote sits innocently at the shelf and Sehun contemplates for a moment, but then decides to grab the remote and settles himself on the couch, switching on the TV.

What appears on the screen is an animated crocodile strolling along with a blue penguin. Sehun tilts his head, recognizing the show. Kyungsoo’s Pororo video is still playing on the DVD player. He chuckles in amusement. Kyungsoo clearly had fallen asleep before the video even finishes, and someone must’ve had turned off the TV just like that without taking the CD out.

To his surprise, the thought leaves him feeling bitter. He misses little things like this. All the little quirks and habits the other eleven used to do. Sehun wishes he could just go back to the past to spend more time with them, to study all the unique little things they do. It feels just like only a day had passed when he had helped Kyungsoo with dinner.

The room suddenly felt too quiet—suffocating, even. Krong’s trademark growl on the TV and the occasional laughter from the other animals doesn’t seem to help brighten up the room.

With a weary sigh, Sehun lifts himself off the couch and goes to the bathroom to pack up his belongings. Toothbrushes, towels, his laundries, and everything he had left behind.

He notices that the only thing he can’t bring back with him is bits and parts of his heart and soul he had left in this house. This home.

Sehun realizes belatedly that he isn’t ready to let go just yet.

--*--

“Hello? Hyun Kyun speaking.”

“Hyung…”

“Ah, Sehun. Is this a new number?”

“I used the dorm phone.”

“Oh.”

“Hyung…”

“Sehun, are you okay? Should I go there? The briefing is over anyway.”

“No, no. I’m fine,” Sehun inhales deeply, “I think I will be staying here for a week or so. You know, just before I move out. Is the company alright with that?”

“The company surely wouldn’t mind but… are you sure about it?”

“Yeah... And, hyung, you should go get some sleep.”

Hyun Kyun chuckles from over the line. “You’re one to say. I doubt you get any good night’s sleep these past few days.”

“Yeah well… I guess I’ll hang up now? I still got some more packing to do. The cupboard is still full of my clothes.”

“Yeah okay. If you need anything, make sure to call me.”

“Thanks hyung. Good night.”

--*--

Sehun had just finished chucking his Naruto comics on the shelf into his bag. The cupboards are clean, his toiletries have also been put inside his bag and somewhere along cleaning up, he notices that there are tons of chewed bubble gums being stuck under the dining table. He knows it’s Jongin’s doings.

Sehun knows them all too well it hurts.

After eating some instant noodles for dinner and washing his plate, Sehun makes his way to his shared bedroom with Kyungsoo and Lu—. He stops in his steps and scrunches his eyes tightly, pressing a palm to his chest, because it hurts too much. The unshed tears sting his eyelids and Sehun forces himself not to think of pale, porcelain skin, thin lips and doe eyes.

. Get your s all together Sehun. He’s gone. There’s nothing you can do now.

Opening his eyes and raking a hand through his hair, Sehun drags his feet to his bedroom and opens the door slowly. The place is still the same, as if everything is just how it was. As if they are still here, living with him, because Sehun swears he can still feel their presence in this dorm.

As if the car accident three weeks ago never happened.

He lets himself in and observes the room. Kyungsoo’s bed is made and tidy; Sehun’s has a few clothes hanging on the bed post; and Lu Han… Lu Han.

He gazes longingly at Lu Han’s bed, blankets folded neatly with a pair of socks lying on one corner. He hesitantly makes his way towards the bed, steps slow and guarded. He lets his fingers run against the bed linen, and smoothes out occasional wrinkles. Dropping to his knees beside the bed, Sehun smiles sadly to himself as memories flood back to his head.

Lu Han never liked people on his bed, hell, not even Sehun. His eyebrows knit and Sehun moves to trace circles on the pillow now.

“You’re so weird you know that?” Sehun says to nobody, resting his chin on the edge of the bed. “You’re so possessive over your things. You never let anyone on your bed. You never let anyone borrow your socks. You never let anyone use your comb,”

Sehun’s finger writes the mandarin of ‘Lu’ he had learned from the older male a long while back against the pillow.

“You never let anyone into your heart,” he whispers out quietly. The image of Lu Han smiling softly lingers in the back of his mind. The ghost of Lu Han he had made up in his head is sitting on Sehun’s bed behind him, grinning at him and propping his chin with both his hand with a playful glint in his eyes.

But then again, it’s just his mind. The imagery Lu Han sitting on his bed vanishes and Sehun clenches his jaws.

“You’re such a selfish person, Lu Han,” Sehun starts, breathing quickening as he feels his chest constrict.

“You’re such a selfish bastard. You know my feelings, you know how much you mean to me. And you play with them just like that. You’re such an idiot, you’re a ing bastard, Lu Han, and yet—and yet…”

Sehun breathes in shakily. He doesn’t realize how much he’s crying until he chokes on his words and the bed sheet is damp under his chin.

“And yet… I love you, so, so much. Please come back,” He sobs, the sheets in his trembling hands.

“Please, please come back, Lu Han. I’m so sorry. I’m so ing sorry…”

Sehun slips into a dreamless sleep that night with tear-stained cheeks and forehead resting on the edge of the bed.

(I wonder if you are watching me from somewhere
Even if I regret, it’s too late- I can’t see you anymore
The tears of the shadows of my memories are watching over that place)

--*--

Sehun wakes up with crusty eyes and feeling disoriented as hell, head pounding horribly. His cheeks feels disgustingly sticky from his tears last night and Sehun gets up half-heartedly to wash his face in the bathroom.

As he passes Kyungsoo’s bed, he realizes something’s odd with it. He’s swears there isn’t any washed laundries folded neatly last night on Kyungsoo’s bed. He stares at it strangely for a few seconds, but then shrugs it off and exits his bedroom and down the hallway.

It feels strange not fighting over one bathroom with eleven other men early in the morning like how he used to, but Sehun doesn’t want to feel so down and broken at this time of the day, so he forces his mind to wonder off somewhere else.

The water in nice and cool as it splashes on his face, calming his nerves. Sehun rubs his wet hands to the back of his neck, massaging a little. Turning the tap off, he watches as the water swirls down the drain of the sink and takes a glance at his reflection in the mirror.

He has lost quite some weight, his cheekbones are prominent, eyes sunken, collarbones jutting out, threatening to tear the thin skin. His natural white pigment has turned into ashen grey and Sehun’s hair has lost its pretty shine.

Suddenly feeling angry, he splashes water into the mirror and decides to leave the bathroom without drying his face with the towel, letting the water drip down his chin and onto his collar.

The air smells like a mixture of buttered toast and black coffee when he opens the bathroom door. There’s an unsettling feeling somewhere in his stomach and Sehun tiptoes quietly down the hallway because he’s sure he hears a soft clinking of a tea spoon against the rim of a cup.

It might just be Hyun Kyun visiting and checking up on him, but why so early in the morning?

“Hyung?” Sehun calls out uncertainly, feeling his heart beat a tad quicker at the thought of someone else intruding the house.

“Hyung? Is that you?” He tries a little louder, walking warily towards the kitchen where the person currently is. There’s something sizzling in the stove and by the smell of it, it seems like the person is cooking fried rice.

Hyun Kyun hyung can’t cook fried rice.

“Who’s there?” Sehun inquires loudly this time, standing just a few steps away from the kitchen. He’s certain now that the person is definitely not his manager. There’s the click of the stove, signaling it is being turned off.

“Oh! You’re awake,” the person hums and Sehun stiffens from his place. He knows this voice.

He can hear the person’s steps coming closer to him and Sehun hears his heart thundering loud in his ear.

Kyungsoo comes out of the kitchen, smiling up at him with a spatula in his hand. Kyungsoo comes out of the kitchen. Kyungsoo.

Sehun stares wide in shock, mouth slightly ajar and posture rigid. There’s silence between them and Sehun rubs his eyes furiously with his hands and opens them once more.

Kyungsoo doesn’t vanish. In fact, he stays there, real and solid and smiling wider at him and . Sehun steps closer slowly to the shorter boy, eyes never leaving Kyungsoo’s face and hands reaching out towards him. His fingers meet fabric instead of thin air like what Sehun had expected, and he bunches Kyungsoo’s sweat shirt slowly in his hand.

“H-hyung…” Sehun chokes, feeling tears b once again to his eyes. Kyungsoo smiles softly at him and his hand comes up to Sehun’s hair, and then down to rest against his nape. Kyungsoo’s hand feels so warm and real Sehun starts to doubt himself.

“It’s not you. I- It can’t be you. My mind is playing tricks on me,” Sehun sobs, tears falling freely down his cheeks.

“You’re just my hallucination, you’re not real. I—“ and Sehun lurches forward to throw his arms around the small boy in front of him, burying his face into the crook of Kyungsoo’s neck.

“You’re not real. You’re not real. You’re not real,” Sehun chants as if convincing himself, voice croaky and tears wetting Kyungsoo’s shoulder and neck. Kyungsoo stays silent and only combs his fingers through Sehun’s hair, moving down to rub soothing circles on his back but doesn’t say anything. Instead, the older boy cups his wet cheeks and pulls his face away from his shoulder, studying Sehun’s face.

“You’ve lost a lot of weight Sehun-ah,” Kyungsoo chuckles softly. “Have you been eating lately?”

Sehun stares at him confusedly, but shakes his head at the question. Kyungsoo wipes the remaining tears on his face. Sehun didn’t realize he had already stopped crying. The older boy takes his hand and leads him to the kitchen.

“Come on, let’s get you something to eat then.”

Kyungsoo sets out a plate of fried rice and tea in front of Sehun. The younger boy only stares at it, still stunned and shocked at Kyungsoo’s sudden presence.

Kyungsoo moves to sits next to him by the counter and looks expectantly.

“You’re just my hallucination,” Sehun states once more, eyes lingering on Kyungsoo’s solid form. The older sighs and pushes the plate further towards him.

“Eat, Sehun,” he says, voice edging with a little exasperation. Sehun sets his mouth into a thin line, before grabbing the spoon and starts on his food. He can feel Kyungsoo’s heavy stare on him, and when he glances up, Kyungsoo is looking at him with a far away gaze and slightly parted lips.

“I’m so sorry, Sehun. It must’ve been hard for you…” he whispers so low Sehun has to strain to hear him.

Kyungsoo continues to gaze at him softly, and Sehun feels tears prick his lids once more. He sets down the spoon and presses the heels of his palm to his eyes, willing them to go away.

“It’s not fair…” he mutters, pressing his eyes harder, his steady breaths turning into soft snifflings. “You don’t know what it feels like. You don’t know what I’ve been through. It’s not. ing. fair.”

Kyungsoo bites the inside of his cheeks and scoots closer to the younger boy, slinging an arm around Sehun’s quivering shoulders.

“I’m sorry,” he says once more. Sehun reaches up instantly and winds an arm around the small waist. Kyungsoo smells like new books, like black coffee and fabric softener and just Kyungsoo. He feels so real. Sehun tightens his arms around him and the other boy sways them back and forth gently.

“You left the Pororo disc in the DVD player,” Sehun whines, burying his nose into Kyungsoo’s hair. Kyungsoo an eyebrow.

“Oh? Really? I’m sure I’ve already taken it out.”

Sehun scoffs into his hair and idly lets his hand play with Kyungsoo’s fingers. “Sure you did, hyung.”

They stay like that for the next few minutes, basking in each other’s presence and listening to the mundane hum of the traffic outside. Kyungsoo is warm and Sehun is reluctant to let go.

“I miss you guys so much…” he mumbles against the top of Kyungsoo’s head. Kyungsoo sighs softly.

“I know Sehun-ah. I know.”

--*--

Dusk has fallen and the sun has retreat to give way to the moon. The stars outside looks like millions of diamonds embedded into a velvety dark blue expanse, Sehun muses before pulling the blinds close.

Kyungsoo sits on his own bed and Sehun considers on joining the older man, because he just misses him so, so much and what if he disappears in the middle of the night? Kyungsoo luckily understands the expression on his face, and scoots to make room for the younger.

There’s still so many things Sehun wants to do with him. They’ve spent the whole day watching Pororo, helping Kyungsoo fold the washed laundries, cook egg rolls for lunch and wipe the dusty windows. They have done so many things today, yet, Sehun still isn’t satisfied.

The bed dips with Sehun’s weight and there’s so little space for him. Kyungsoo snakes an arm around Sehun’s waist and snuggles closer.

“Will you still be here tomorrow?” Sehun asks quietly, desperately wishing he would say yes. Kyungsoo doesn’t answer and only looks up to meet Sehun’s gaze. Kyungsoo’s eyes hold so many unspoken words and there’s a certain glimmer there which Sehun had never seen before ever since they met in trainee days.

For a split second, Sehun forgets that Kyungsoo is supposed to be only his hallucination.

“Go to sleep Sehun,” the older sighs closing Sehun’s eyes with his fingers and kisses his forehead.

Sehun doesn’t argue.

--*--

He wakes up the next morning to the hymns of the birds and the light caresses of the sunlight sifting through the gaps of the blind. The bed beside him is empty and cold. There’s no scent of coffee brewing or the sizzling sound of fried rice on a pan. Everything is quiet and still and his chest feels terribly heavy.

His nose stings and something’s clogging up his throat, making it hard for him to inhale air to his lungs. Sehun throws an arm over his eyes and let tears push past his lids.

Kyungsoo is not here. Kyungsoo is already gone and yesterday’s just his hallucination.

The sound of the tap being from the bathroom down the hallway and water splashing against the tiles reach his ears.

Sehun removes his arm to squint his bleary eyes towards the bed room door. It’s left slightly ajar. He distinctly remembers it was closed the night before.

Swinging his legs off the edge of the bed, Sehun gets up to his feet and approaches the bathroom until he is a few feet away.

There’s a soft tune from someone humming to a song in the shower, but despite the melodious voice, it definitely does not belong to Kyungsoo’s. When the person reaches a high note, that’s all it takes for Sehun to knock.

“J-Jongdae hyung, please come out now,” His voice sounds shaky even to his ears. The tap is instantly turned off and the gurgle of the drain is loud from the other side of the door. The lock clicks and Sehun straightens. When the door swings open, Sehun throws himself on the small figure in front of him.

Jongdae, who seems unprepared for the surprising action, staggers back, but quickly regains his balance. He only has a towel wrapped to his waist, hair still dripping wet, and Sehun doesn’t care if the water is starting to seep through his shirt. He hugs tighter, and Jongdae smacks the back of his head jokingly.

“Yah! I’m still wet. And you’re making my towel slip down,” Jongdae scolds, trying to push the much bigger body in front of him. Sehun leans his whole weight, almost sending them both toppling down to the bathroom floor if it weren’t for Sehun’s strong arms holding Jongdae’s back.

He nuzzles his face to the junction of Jongdae’s wet neck, water dripping off the tips of the elder’s hair and to Sehun’s forehead.

“I miss you so much I must’ve gone mad,” He mumbles, letting the scent of the elder’s shampoo fill his nose. Jongdae snorts.

“Since when does a bratty kid like you miss your hyung so much?” he chuckles.

“Since I lost all of you guys.”

The statement manages to successfully shut Jongdae’s mouth and the older sighs, patting the back of his neck. “Sehun-ah, you can get off now. I need to put on clothes you know,” he says much softer this time. He can feel the towel around his waist slowly slip further down.

“No,” Sehun whines. “You can change later. Let’s just stay like this for awhile, okay?” Sehun circles his arms around the boy tighter, making Jongdae chuckle in amusement.

“I take my words back. You’re still a bratty kid.”

--*--

Sehun realizes, with a heavy heart, that he can’t find Kyungsoo anywhere around the dorm. Yesterday seems too real to remain just a dream, and realizing that it was the last time and the last chance he could ever see the older boy is overwhelming. He can even still feel the warmth of Kyungsoo’s hands against the back of his nape.

He is sitting on Kyungsoo’s bed now, hands folded on top of his lap and stares wistfully at the pillow. No matter how much he pleads, he won’t come back.

Too tired to cry, Sehun grabs the pillow and buries his face on its softness, hands gripping a little too tight.

Jongdae’s laughter can be heard from the living room and Sehun sits listening quietly, closing his eyes to contemplate.

Kyungsoo’s not coming back— never coming back, while Jongdae is just right there, sitting on the living room couch a few steps away from Sehun’s bed room, watching the TV.

Taking three deep breaths and opening his eyes, Sehun pushes himself up and walks to the living room.

--*--

Unlike Kyungsoo yesterday, Sehun spends the day lazing around with Jongdae instead of doing the house chores.

The moon is already high up in the sky and the wall clock shows it’s eleven, but Sehun doesn’t feel sleepy just yet. Jongdae’s bow-shaped lips moves up and brush lightly against his eyelids, before curving up into a playful smile. Sehun doesn’t open his eyes until he hears a soft snicker.

“You look ridiculous, Sehunnie,” Jongdae teases. “It’s the first time I see you thinking about something so seriously.”

“Shut up,” Sehun mutters, shifting an arm under Jongdae’s body to scoop the older boy. The lights are off, curtains are closed, the TV still on and the screen is creating a dim glow to the dark living room. The volume is set on low, so Sehun can hear the quiet humming from Jongdae, slowly lulling him to sleep.

They have decided to sleep on the couch that night, since going to the bedroom would mean having to walk—and everyone knows Sehun is a lazy . Apparently, Jongdae seems to be sleepy enough to not argue back when Sehun refuses to go to the bedroom and pulls Jongdae down to lay beside him instead.

“Kyungsoo-hyung was here too yesterday,” Sehun says, a yawn escaping his lips. Jongdae sighs contentedly when Sehun runs his fingers gently through his chestnut-colored hair. “He’s really here, hyung. I saw him just yesterday. But he just suddenly  vanished when I woke up this morning…”

Jongdae stays silent. Sehun sighs through his nose.

“Will you also disappear by tomorrow morning?”

Jongdae blinks and bites his lip. After a pregnant pause, he reaches up and closes Sehun’s eyes with his fingers.

“Go to sleep, Sehun.”

When Jongdae presses a kiss to his forehead, Sehun’s lip quivers and he clutches the elder’s shirt tightly because it feels like a déjà vu.

--*--

Sehun doesn’t open his eyes straight away when he wakes up the next morning. It’s not surprising when he notices that the space beside him is empty once more. He’s expected it.

The scent of Jongdae’s shampoo still lingers on the cushion they’ve used as a pillow. Inhaling deeply, Sehun finally flutters his eyes open. The TV that they left on last night is already switched off and the window is open, letting crisp morning air blow in.

He feels pins and needles on his right arm from sleeping on his right side the whole night. Feeling numb all over, he forces himself to his feet and walks to the kitchen when his stomach gives a particularly loud rumble. He hasn’t eaten dinner last night, too lazy to whip something up since most of the instant noodles in the cupboard have remained far past their expired dates. Sehun idly wonders if that’s the reason why Chanyeol hyung would often use the bathroom once every hour just a few weeks ago.

Not really knowing what to cook, he settles for a simple sunny side up and warm toast. The sizzle of the egg on the pan fills most of the quietness in the empty dorm. Sehun hums contentedly at the nice aroma of the margarine, flipping the egg easily on with a spatula.

A pair of lean arms snakes up to circle around his waist from behind, and there’s someone’s chin resting on his shoulders. Sehun tenses for a few seconds, fingers almost dropping the spatula. The person behind him chuckles amusedly and Sehun doesn’t need to turn his head around to know who it is.

“It’s not usual for you to cook,” the person teases, hugging him tighter and swaying their bodies side to side, chin still digging painfully to Sehun’s shoulder.

“It’s not like I want to. The food stocks are all finished,” Sehun says, trying to keep his voice calm. The person behind him chuckles again when he notices the tense line of Sehun’s shoulders.

“You’ve gotten a lot stiffer… and skinny too,” he says, Chinese accent tainting his Korean.

“Kyungsoo hyung also said that,” Sehun agrees, turning the stove off and placing the egg on a plate.

“Sehunnie…”

“What?”

“Let’s take a bath together. You smell bad. When’s the last time you wash?”

Sehun jabs the person’s stomach with an elbow and walks to the toaster. The person behind him continues to cling on his waist, and the weight on his back makes it hard for Sehun to step.

“Tao hyung, I can’t walk properly.” Sehun frowns, trying to shrug the pair of arms off. Zitao whines and shakes his head.

“Not until you agree to take a bath with me.”

Sehun sighs. “You’re so childish.”

“You’re not much different,” Zitao grins, sliding his arms off when Sehun rolls his eyes.

--*--

Zitao sets the temperature of the water to lukewarm, and Sehun sighs as he enters the shower stool, water pelting down on his back instantly. The tension bleeds off of his shoulders and Sehun massages the joint where his neck and shoulders meet.

Zitao runs the lather-covered soap puff against Sehun’s back and scrubs gently. “It’s been long since we’ve washed together isn’t it?” the older asks, lifting Sehun’s arm to wash the side of his body. Sehun doesn’t answer and only closes his eyes at Zitao’s calming hands.

“Sehunnie… Why aren’t you talking? Are you mad?” he stumbles a little in his Korean, but even then, Sehun thinks Zitao has improved so much ever since they start spending more time in Korea while promoting Wolf, the boy not having to use weird hand gestures when speaking anymore like what he did back then during the start of MAMA days.

Sehun shakes his head and finally turns to face the older boy. Zitao still has dark rings under his eyes and small canine teeth that appears when he grins. His shoulders are as broad as how he remembers them to be and the light blonde hair he sports has grown little longer. His roots are showing. Sehun wonders when’s the last time he dyed his hair.

Little things like this brings him back to the sorrowful, wounded side of him. He places a hand on the back of Zitao’s neck and presses his face on his shoulders. Zitao doesn’t say anything. The older boy continues to scrub up and down his spine.

“You feel so real. You look so real. Sometimes I wonder if I’m just imagining things or this is just some kind of stupid dream and I’ll wake up to the same old empty dorm again…” his voice cracks, and Sehun thinks he might have started crying already. His tears comes running down on Zitao’s shoulders and to his chest, mixing together with the water from the shower.

“I wish you were here… I really wish I could talk to you…” Sehun chokes, his shoulders quake as he nuzzles his face further to the crook of Zitao’s neck.

“But Sehunnie, I’m already here,” Zitao chuckles bitterly, reaching for the shampoo before squeezing it to his palms.

Sehun shakes his head weakly. “No you’re not. You’re not here. This isn’t the real you.”

He lets the older boy wash his hair while he sobs to his shoulder. Zitao doesn’t seem to bring the conversation further and opts for silence. He can feel Zitao’s fingers on his nape tremble ever so lightly.

Sehun pretends he doesn’t hear the quiet snifflings Zitao makes or feel tears dripping to his forehead. His chest ache so much that it hurts to even inhale air to his lungs.

Zitao ends up holding Sehun in a tight embrace, taking deep, shaky breaths and whispers strings of I’m sorrys to Sehun’s hair.

--*--

When Chanyeol comes, it’s 180 degrees different to the last three days he’s spent with the other members.

Chanyeol is loud, boisterous and the complete opposite to quiet Oh Sehun-- which is a good distraction to keep him away from the grief plaguing him these past few weeks. Chanyeol doesn’t ask how Sehun’s been doing, or why he’s gotten so much skinnier, instead, the older boy acts as if it was a normal Thursday morning where they’re free of schedules. As if the car accident three weeks ago never happened.

Sehun watches from the doorway of the kitchen as Chanyeol spreads butter messily on the still warm toast, while attempting to flip the eggs, but ends up flailing franticly when the hot oil on the pan sizzles and a drop lands on the back of his hand. Chanyeol has never been an expert in the cooking department.

When Chanyeol belatedly notices him standing at the doorway, he stops flailing and scratches the back of his head with a sheepish smile adorned on his face.

“Sehunnie! I didn’t realize you were standing there all along,” Chanyeol says, beckoning for Sehun to join him with a wave of a hand. Sehun smiles easily and stands behind Chanyeol as the older continues his effort on cooking breakfast.

“I can’t believe we’re short on food supplies. Since when did the fridge become this empty?” Chanyeol whines, handing Sehun a plate of burnt toast and half cooked eggs that’s still a little runny. Sehun scrunches his nose in distaste, setting the plate to the sink.

“I’ll just have milk, thanks,” he says nonchalantly, opening the fridge and pulls out a carton milk. Chanyeol crosses his arms across his chest and huffs.

“You’re not appreciating what I’ve made for you…” He accuses with a frown. Sehun laughs and shakes his head, tossing the carton milk into the trash once it’s empty. “But hyung, I doubt that it’s edible.”

Chanyeol hung his head low like a dejected puppy “You’re horrible…” he whines and Sehun cackles up.

--*--

He throws up in the toilet bowl that night, mind hazy and face flushed a deep pink. He’s so drunk and wasted and everything feels so ing horrible at the moment.

Chanyeol had offered him a few glass of soju a few hours ago, which Sehun had reluctantly accepted. It was a completely bad decision and he knows it. Sehun groans as he feels another wave of nausea in his stomach and he throws up once more. It’s disgusting.

Chanyeol laughs beside him and Sehun glares at him from behind his fringe. “Sorry,” the elder mutters with an apologetic smile, hands sliding up his back and massaging his nape comfortingly. His fingers are calloused and a little rough from strumming the guitar string too often, just like how he remembered them to be and Sehun wants to believe that Chanyeol is not a mere hallucination.

It’s heartbreaking to see Chanyeol smiling sadly at him. That kind of smile doesn’t fit him. He’s saying something to Sehun, but suddenly, his ears buzz and he can’t make out the words Chanyeol is saying. He feels sleepy, and Sehun thinks it must be the alcohol’s effect on him.

The last thing he remembers is Chanyeol’s whisper of good night, Sehun! Before his vision fades into pitch black.

--*--

In retrospect, Sehun realizes he’s never actually known Minseok hyung that well. Sure, they’ve talked to each other once in a while in the dorm, sometimes, they share seats in the bus when they head off to schedules. Minseok hyung is downright hilarious and has a cheerful and outgoing personality, the typical person you can always get along to. But in Sehun’s honest opinion, the way they interact with one another is different compared to how Sehun usually interacts with Jongin or Junmyeon, or the other members.

Sehun can talk freely about anything and everything with Jongin or the others without having to guard his mouth, whereas talking to Minseok had him feeling slightly more aware of his choice of words. Sometimes when they run out of words to say or the conversation gets a little too awkward, Sehun would fish out his phone from his pocket and busy himself with the device. That way, he can pretend that he doesn’t catch Minseok fidgeting from the uncomfortable atmosphere between them from the corner of his eyes.

So Sehun feigns sleep when Minseok appears beside his bed the next morning. There’s a small noise somewhere next to his head where Minseok had set down something on his nightstand and a few shuffling of his footsteps.

Sehun tries hard not to whimper from the horrible headache pounding in his head. The first hangover he experienced was not so long ago, the night after Exo celebrated their recent global artist awards. It was worse than the one he’s having right now, but it didn’t mean that this one is any less painful.

Sweat is beading his forehead and his eyebrows are scrunched up, trying to endure the throbbing pain. He can hear Minseok’s steady breathing from over his head as the older steps closer to him. There’s soft fingers smoothing the creases between his knitted brows and Sehun flinches involuntarily from the sudden touch, drawing out an amused chuckle from the older male.

“I know you’re awake, Sehun,” Minseok teases, nudging Sehun’s back with his hand. “You don’t have to pretend to sleep just because you don’t want to talk to me, you know. It’s not like I’m going to force you to chat with me.”

Despite his casual tone, Sehun doesn’t miss the sad lilt to his voice. His stomach churns at the statement and the headache is getting unbearable.

“I’ll be in the living room. If you need anything, just give me a shout, yeah?”

And with that, he exits the room and leaves the door slightly ajar. Sehun gets up slowly with a quiet groan, falling back to his pillows when pain shoots up to his scalp. He thinks he might have gotten a little too much alcohol yesterday. Blame Chanyeol for offering him too much. He’s not here of course—they’re never here the following morning.

He cranes his neck to glance at the nightstand beside him. There’s a tray with aspirin and a glass of water on top. Minseok’s always been so considerate and thoughtful it’s a surprise he isn’t the leader of Exo-M. Sehun takes a tablet and downs the water in one go.

It helps reduce the pain twenty minutes later. Sehun helps himself up into a sitting position, mind reeling over Minseok’s words. There are so many complicated things going through his brain right now and his mind in such a jumbled state.

It takes him fifteen minutes to dwell on his feelings, before he’s pushing himself off the bed and walking towards the living room.

Minseok is lazing on the couch while watching an old re-run of running man when Sehun enters the living room, with one hand propping his head and the other inside a bowl of popcorn. Minseok sits up instantly when he spots Sehun standing on the end of the couch, and sends him an easy smile. He places the bowl of popcorn on the table.

“Are you feeling better Sehun ah?”

“Much better. Thanks hyung,” he grins and moves to sit next to the older man. It’s silent again after he had settled down and Sehun can’t quite tell if it’s a tense silence or a comforting one. The urge to talk and fill the quietness is strong, so Sehun opens his mouth, about to start a conversation. Minseok cuts him off before he can say anything.

“You don’t have to say anything. Let’s just be silent for now,” Minseok says and Sehun closes his mouth. Minseok’s sighs and pulls Sehun’s wrist so that he’s lying on the couch with his head on Minseok’s lap, face facing the TV screen. It’s a bit awkward at first, but then after a few moments, Sehun finds himself snuggling closer to the older man’s body.

“I didn’t get to spend much time with you, Sehun ah,” Minseok says quietly, hands coming to rest on Sehun’s sides. “And I regret it so much,” he finishes.

Sehun closes his eyes and bites the insides of his cheeks. Minseok lets out a throaty chuckle that sounds so bitter to Sehun’s ears. “I’m so sorry, Sehun,” and his voice cracks a little; Sehun wonders if he’s holding back tears right now. Minseok never cries, and it’s the worst feeling seeing him in the verge of tears but never letting himself break apart.

Tears are pricking his own lids, but Sehun fights them back. Minseok’s breathing is unsteady and Sehun tries to stifle the sob threatening to escape his lips. Minseok’s smile is strained and Sehun is confused when a palm comes to cover his eyes, preventing him from seeing. He can feel Minseok’s hand shaking slightly against his lids.

There’s something warm dropping to his neck and he hears very, very quiet sniffling from the man on top. He tries to pry away the hand over his eyes, but Minseok is strong, stronger than him and he refuses to move the hand.

“Don’t look,” the elder says, voice going hoarse. It takes so much effort to push the hand off his eyes, because Sehun wants to see him-- because this could be the last time he can ever see his face. When he opens his eyes, there’s a steady stream of tears down the older man’s cheeks. Sehun moves up to brush them away, disregarding the burn on his own lids.

“Hyung…” he whispers brokenly.

It’s the first time he’s ever seen Minseok cry.