Chapter XXIV.

What Hurts The Most

“Jieonnie?”

Stepping inside their home, both Sehun and Luhan sets foot in the living room only to be welcomed by the sight of a peacefully asleep Jieon whose pink teddy bear is firmly cuddled against her chest, the sounds of different cartoon shows blasting out of the television’s speakers as it drowned out her soft snores.

“I’ll place her in her room, go change.” Luhan speaks immediately, noticing how tired Sehun must be after they left the hospital just about nine o’clock on that certain evening.

For a split second, the younger male almost looked like he was about to protest before he quietly takes a step back, shuffling out of the area and into their shared bedroom. Taking soft strides towards the couch, Luhan turns off the television next, unplugging it after as he gently lifts Jieon while waiting for the little girl to ease into a curled up position against his arms.

“Appa?” She mumbles, waking up a little.

Luhan smiles, “Shh, just go on and sleep Jieon. Appa will just place you in your room.” He says, opening the door to their destination. Placing her on her bed, he allows Jieon to snuggle into him for quite some more until she finally falls back into a deep sleep and he pecks her forehead, whispering goodnight as he fixes the pink stuff toy against her hold before exiting her room.

He then yawns, heavy footsteps sounding awfully loud against the quiet surroundings. Eventually, he reaches their bedroom and walks in to hear something which sounds like someone’s cries. It snaps in his mind almost within just a few seconds how familiar those cries are but he doesn’t rush, instead he takes careful steps towards the bathroom where a sight of a distraught Sehun greets him.

It’s really not a shock anymore for Luhan to see Sehun in these types of situation, since being with him for almost five years gave him the opportunity to see through more than just the thick walls that the younger male had built to protect himself. When others see the ghost of a smirk against Sehun’s lips, it already varies to him as a playful smile, the expression of indifference the pink head always try to sport is as much as that of a mask against fear and rejection and while some people, which usually means most, insist that Sehun usually appears blank and bored to them, Luhan disagrees because he knows, because he can read his lover like the back of his hand.

And right now, as Luhan grabs the extra towel from the rack behind the bathroom door, he only stares towards the hunched figure in the bathtub whose long arms are hugging the sides of his knees while his head is cradled in between his thighs. Luhan nurses a steady rhythm as he walks towards him, marveling at the picture of a young and fragile boy bared behind his mask for all of his shredded soul and flaws to be displayed in front of the only man he could ever trust his whole heart to.

The lightning in the room is not that bad as Luhan first thought it was when they bought the house. It’s the color of yellow, bright enough to give a little spark of life in the room but dark enough to contrast against the pale skin of Sehun, marking him an odd piece of finery, an outcast that seems to loss his fitting in the midst of a marble tub, black tiles and cheap toiletries.

“Hyung.”

There’s exactly no need for more than a single word when it comes to Sehun and Luhan’s relationship specially at times like this. Luhan steps inside the bathtub, placing the towel he was holding earlier around Sehun’s wet form before scooting closer to the younger male and turning the shower host off so it no longer drenches them.

Like a routine, Luhan’s small fingers slowly makes its way against the cheeks of the pink haired male, tilting it to face him, touch burning like fire and drying Sehun’s tears as he wipes it away with so much care and understanding. Although it’s not really often that this type of moments occur, it’s just more of something about the doe eyed boy always being able to get in through the younger male’s deepest thoughts while the latter just takes all of him.

“I can’t take it hyung. This isn’t even right, I feel bad for Jongin and it’s about to go worst with Kyungsoo hyung.” Sehun cries, burying his face against Luhan’s palm. “I don’t even understand myself anymore and is it really wrong of me to wish that Kyungsoo hyung shouldn’t have just listened to me before and ran away?”

“Hush,” Luhan breathes, leaving soft pecks around the face of the fragile boy in his hold. “Fate is never something you could tamper with Sehun, everything happens for a reason no matter how wrong or right it might look to you, it would still happen.”

“But why hyung? Why?”

“I don’t have all the answers Sehun,” Luhan smiles, pressing their foreheads together. “After all, life is our own book to write.”

Sehun immediately clutches Luhan by his waist, leaning his face against the crook of older male’s shoulder and basking in the warmth and comfort that his presence offers as he cried all his doubts away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fear is what makes this world a collision of monochrome colors.

It’s 11:53, a few more minutes before midnight, when Jongdae is suddenly pulled out of his concentration as a knock rings quite loudly against the door of his office. He stands up, leaving the remaining stack of papers piled on his desk to see who his guest might be only to be met by the dull looking figure of Kyungsoo.

“What-”

“Can I crash in for the night?”

“This is not a hotel.” Jongdae pointedly says but doesn’t hesitate to immediately pull his friend inside his office.

He pushes him on the vacant couch and starts pacing for awhile before he grabs a chair to sit in front of his friend. Confusion is the distinct trait that could easily be seen in Kyungsoo’s eyes, his thoughts obviously in a place which is nothing near Jongdae’s office.

“I guess this is my karma.” The redhead’s voice breaks the silence, his lips trying to form a smile which sadly becomes a grimace.

Jongdae leans his back against the chair, small puffs of air leaving his pink lips. “You’re not sleeping in Jongin’s ward?”

“What’s a stranger like me supposed to be doing there?”

“Kyungsoo.”

“I know, I know.” The man’s face is almost as grim as his emotions are.”But you’re not really expecting me to go in there as if everything’s fine and dandy, right? I know you already saw what happened earlier when he woke up, he doesn’t remember me, that fact is simple enough. I’m just not ready to take any more risk of blowing my chances up.”

“Then let him remember you, help him remember Kyungsoo.”

“It’s easier said than done.”

“But you can Kyungsoo, you always make things work.”

“Always,” the redhead parrots, laughing in such a way that it sounds so hollow even to Jongdae’s hearing.

Jongdae frowns. “Are you okay Kyungsoo?”

Of all the questions, both men knew exactly just how rhetorical that sounded. Jongdae bites his tongue at the mistake of asking the redhead but Kyungsoo just glances at him with a gaze as dead as that of someone who has been stabbed multiple times by a very sharp knife. The pause in between their conversation is accentuated with the glumness that fills the cracks of their every inhale and exhale, and Kyungsoo is momentarily drowned in the quiet stupor of seeing black and white flash across his vision.

That’s the thing about uncertainty and fear. It is unpredictable like anything else in this world and there are those times when it doesn’t really pull one out of reality and instead it does everything to suffocate that person in it. Leaving the world in an exact state of dull colors, it coats everything just enough so it doesn’t escape the boundaries of black and white hues, the symbols that cuts out the form of deceitful lies and painful truth.

“Sometimes,” Kyungsoo starts speaking, voice barely an audible whisper.”Sometimes I think of giving up. Those nights when I sense no movement at all, when I’m reminded that the only thing keeping Jongin alive are those machines connected to him and when the feeling of emptiness becomes too much for me to bear.”

“But then a little part of my heart would suddenly remind me of all those times when we would cuddle together, the warmth, his words, and his voice plus when he use to stare at me before as if I had no flaws. It scares me yet each time, I break myself just so that I could love him more.”

There’s the glint in Kyungsoo’s eyes that almost makes Jongdae want to pity him but he continues to listen, respect and admiration for the redhead’s strength growing more each second.

“Maybe you’re just afraid it wouldn’t be worth it.”

“Is that it?” Kyungsoo asks Jongdae, tugging the hems of his shirt.

“That’s why I said maybe.” Jongdae briefly smiles, an encouraging pat place against Kyungsoo’s slugged shoulders. “We’re just humans after all so it’s entirely normal for us to be afraid of something, things even. It’s in our nature to doubt, to feel unsettled when we think our efforts our not enough. You might think assurances are just spewed words at certain times, to give comfort even just for a minute or less but Kyungsoo you’ve done enough, more than enough and the only one who could prove that is not me or Luhan or Sehun, not even Jongin but you yourself.”

Kyungsoo’s lips moves a little upward before he glances at Jongdae. “Thank you.”

Jongdae merely thumps his back before grabbing a spare blanket from one of the cabinets in his office. He pushes Kyungsoo timidly into a lying position on the couch, giving him the fluffy white material. “Sleep, you need to rest.” And the redhead obeys immediately, dismissing his friend with a grateful expression and a soft gesture of the hand, squishing comfort from the warm hold of Jongdae.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Stepping inside his apartment for the first time in a few months makes Kyungsoo feel odd. He goes home that certain morning at the insistence of Jongdae for him to take a warm bath and clean himself first before he goes to visit Jongin again.

And so he indeed went and followed his friend’s ordered, too tired to even fend up for himself or argue. He walks through the silent hallways of his apartment, noticing the small cobwebs that had slowly formed