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The world has no meaning, Sehun thinks.

How can it, when nothing attracts his interest and all he would like to do is fall into bed and never wake up again...

Why is it, he wonders, that one day life can seem so bright and lively, an inexhaustible trove of possibilities - but the next everything is flat and colorless?

He hates it. He hates it so much.

This feeling of drowsiness and meaningless tears and the impression that he is slowly sinking straight into Hell.

He looks out his window, expecting to feel the sun on his cheeks and hear the birds in his ears.

He does, but they don't mean anything to him anymore. He is detached from the Earth, suspended in a shapeless mass of thick grey matter. Even if he wanted to spread his wings and fly far away, he couldn't have. Something heavy sits on his chest and holds him down.

The stars glitter distantly, pinpoints of light.

Soft mauve drenched feathers rain from above, so that he is laying in a downy bed that should be colorful but is filtered to black and white and grey through his glassy eyes. Threads of thin yarn drift past, but he stares listlessly through them, loathing Fate silently, cursing Hope with red eyes.

The feathers gather into a cocoon that falls gently around him, fading into the space that gleams dully around. He imagines he can feel iron chains encircling his wrists, his ankles, and at that moment he can only cry and cry and cry as something already broken in his body breaks a little bit more, because he knows it will never end, and he will never fall asleep.

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If our love ceases to be

that is the

end of my world for me

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