TWELVE

“You haven’t eaten since last night,” Zitao snapped, grabbing onto Luhan’s shoulders before he could climb up onto his bed. Luhan gasped in surprise, and Zitao pulled him off the ladder, setting him down on the floor roughly.

“Hey!” Luhan cried, trying to shoulder Zitao off. The younger ignored his yells and pushed him down, sitting him on Yifan’s bed, and crouched in front of him.

“Zitao, don’t you dare—”

“No, let me talk.”

“Move, Zitao!”

“Listen to me, Luhan!”

Luhan fell silent at the iciness in the younger’s voice, and turned away, frustrated.

“As I was saying,” Zitao continued, “you haven’t eaten since last night and you promised you’d stop skipping meals. And now you’ve gone a whole day without eating. Again.”

Luhan put his face in his hands.

Why couldn’t everyone just leave him alone? He couldn’t even control his own eating habits in peace, because he had eleven nosy people butting into his business.

“Nothing of your concern,” Luhan grumbled.

Zitao lifted Luhan’s chin, and slapped him across the face.

Luhan was dumbfounded.

He turned slowly, chin still in Zitao’s palm, and met eyes with him.

“Do you want me to beat you, Huang Zitao?”

“How could you ever tell me your health is none of my concern?”

“How could you gain so much disrespect?” Luhan retaliated. He clenched his fists, but didn’t swing.

“This is for your own good, Luhan,” Zitao replied shakily. “I don’t care if you hurt me. You can hurt me if it means you’ll stop hurting yourself.”

“I’m not hurting myself!”

“Then why aren’t you eating?!” Zitao yelled, standing up again and towering over Luhan. “Why are you skipping so many meals when you know this is only going to affect your health and our career?”

Luhan ground his teeth. He felt small under Zitao’s dangerous glare and tall shadow, but he didn’t back down. Instead, he stood up, sandwiched between Zitao’s chest and the edge of the bed. Zitao stepped back.

“It wouldn’t affect any of you if you stopped worrying so much!”

“Stopped worrying?” Zitao ridiculed, throwing his hands up. “You expect us to stop worrying about you, when you’re starving yourself?”

“Is it really so hard?” Luhan spluttered. Zitao slapped him again, and Luhan screamed, lunging forward and throwing aimless punches at the younger. Zitao’s quick reflexes pulled Luhan into a tight headlock before he was hit by the blows, one arm around his neck and one behind his head, and he didn’t flinch in the slightest when Luhan scraped at his arms in desperation.

“Let go of me!”

“Do you really think so lowly of yourself, Luhan?” Zitao breathed, voice strangely calm in comparison to their position. “Do you really feel as if you’re not worthy of our care? Because I’ll tell you this, right now. You mean so much to all of us, and we couldn’t stop worrying about your health even if we tried.”

“Funny that,” Luhan snarled, “because I couldn’t give two s about any of you anyway.”

Zitao’s arms fell away. Luhan turned around, and felt another slap land across his cheek. But this time, it wasn’t from Zitao.

It was from regret.

He could already see tears forming in Zitao’s eyes, and he knew, once again, he’d said the wrong thing.

How could you say that to him?

“You really don’t care about anyone other than yourself, do you?” Zitao hissed. His eyes glittered with anger, but his voice was knotted with hurt, and Luhan didn’t know whether to be remorseful or terrified.

“All we’ve ever done is care about you, and now you’re just pushing us away?”

Zitao shook his head, and put his hand to his forehead.

“Fine. Whatever. You don’t need to care about me. You don’t need to care about any of us.”

He turned around to storm out, but stopped at the door.

“You know, Luhan,” he said quietly, “you’ve changed. I don’t know where the old you has gone. But I want him back. Because I’m sick of the selfish bastard that you’ve turned into.”

The door slammed.

Luhan fell asleep that night to the melody of his noiseless sobs, the burns and stings of the welts he dug upon his skin and the soundless drops of tears and blood on sheets that he couldn’t tell apart.

It was three in the morning.

Luhan could hear the gagging and splashing clearer than the stars glimmering outside his window, and it was the first time he’d ever heard the sounds of Kyungsoo’s purging.

He’d witnessed the bingeing, many times before, but as soon as Kyungsoo fell to his knees or bent over the toilet in the bathroom, Luhan would disappear under his bed covers until he was sure Kyungsoo had finished – and then he’d lay awake for hours, unable to sleep knowing that Kyungsoo was hurting himself.

The gagging sounds drove him insane. It was disgusting.

But now, hazy and groggy from sleep, unable to roll over and hide his ears in the pillow, he could hear every sound, and finally felt the guilt of everything crashing down on him. Because he was the only one that knew what Kyungsoo was doing, and he was leaving him alone, to suffer.

Finally, after a whole minute of vomiting sounds, Luhan swung himself off his bed, feet hardly meeting the rungs on the ladder when he hit the floor. He left the room silently, and entered the bathroom with hesitation.

As expected, Kyungsoo was on his knees, hands clenched around the rim of the toilet with whitened knuckles and shaking wrists. The vomiting was slowing down, and he was gagging up the last of whatever was left in his stomach, shivering violently.

When the puking finally came to a stop and Kyungsoo was left gasping, Luhan stepped behind him and crouched down onto his knees. Kyungsoo froze.

“Kyungsoo.”

He breathed out.

“You scared me,” Kyungsoo rasped, coughing weakly into the toilet. He stood up, and Luhan watched him stagger to the faucet, guzzling down huge mouthfuls of water in between pants and wheezes.

“Kyungsoo—”

“S-Shut up.”

Luhan knew the flushing was dangerous, and he was tempted to stop Kyungsoo, but he knew his efforts would be useless. Excessive drinking and purging was, quote, ‘a part of the whole experience’. It wasn’t as if Kyungsoo would risk bingeing without being able to safely dispose of it all, anyway.

Kyungsoo kneeled back down in front of toilet and Luhan shuffled back to allow him more room, helplessly placing an arm around Kyungsoo’s middle with the other pushing back the hair on his forehead. He couldn’t do anything else but offer help, the physical support of just being there so he wasn’t so alone.

Kyungsoo leaned forward, and Luhan shut his eyes and bit his lip when the gagging started up again.

Luhan felt every retch, every choke, every gasp, and tightened his hold on Kyungsoo in fear. He hated it. He hated every second of it.

“Kyungsoo,” he whimpered, when the latter had finally stopped vomiting, “oh, Kyungsoo…”

Kyungsoo coughed, but it sounded more like a wheeze than anything. His voice was weak and hoarse, his face was bloated, and he was so, so pale…

He sat back on his knees and leaned into Luhan’s chest, letting his head loll weakly, resting his forehead in the crook of the elder’s neck. His eyes fluttered closed, and Luhan would have found his milky skin and serene expression undoubtedly beautiful in the gentle light, if it wasn’t for the fact that he had just purged violently.

Luhan chewed his lip and brushed stray hairs from Kyungsoo’s forehead, letting the tired male rest against him defencelessly. He tore off a few squares of toilet paper and used it to tenderly dab away the excess bile on the corner of Kyungsoo’s mouth, resting his cheek on the younger’s head.

“I’m so sorry, Kyungsoo.”

Kyungsoo moaned a little in response, and laid his hands around his stomach.

“It hurts,” he whispered.

“I know. I know it hurts. You don’t need to say anything.”

He balled up the dirty paper and threw it into the toilet, not bothering to flush it away with whatever used to be Kyungsoo’s late-night dinner. He was still upset over the fact that he was being forced to block out everyone else in the group, while Kyungsoo had just opened up to Jongin in ways he’d never expected, but seeing the younger so vulnerable and fragile pulled at his heart. He couldn’t bear to talk about it, because he knew it was probably hurting Kyungsoo as well.

They sat together for a few long minutes, Luhan’s arms still around the younger protectively, until Kyungsoo’s husky breaths had calmed down and he began to relax. When Luhan finally noticed Kyungsoo was dozing off on his shoulder, he sighed and shuffled back, winding one arm under Kyungsoo’s knees and one around his back. Kyungsoo mumbled in discontent at the sudden movement, but Luhan quickly hushed him, lifting him off the bathroom floor with strong arms.

Luhan wasn’t sure which bedroom to carry Kyungsoo to. He knew there’d be a lot of suspicion – most from Jongin – if the rest of the band saw them sleeping together, but he didn’t want to leave Kyungsoo alone. He was too frail, too fragile, and Jongin would never be able to help him if he had a bad emotional reaction to the purging. It wasn’t rare for Kyungsoo to have an anxiety attack after bingeing and purging, compelling him to do it again.

Sighing, Luhan decided it was better to deal with the doubtful members than risk Kyungsoo’s health, so he carried Kyungsoo into his own bedroom and carefully lifted him up, laying him on his top bunk. He was cautious not to wake Yifan or Minseok, and managed to fit them both onto the bed without too much hassle.

Kyungsoo fell asleep practically the minute his body slid under the blankets, but Luhan lay awake for hours.

He’d forgotten that neither of them had flushed away Kyungsoo’s vomit.

“Get off,” he mumbled, slapping away the hands.

Kyungsoo chuckled in response, and drummed his fingers on Luhan’s head, trailing them down his neck and onto his shoulders.

“I said, get off.”

“You’re mean,” Kyungsoo sang, but he obediently brought his hands to his own chest and lay back on the pillow.

It took Luhan a few moments to come round and realise what was happening.

“What time is it?”

“I don’t know.”

Luhan sat up, groaning, and rubbed his weary eyes, blinking at the dull sunlight coming through the window. Kyungsoo sat up a few moments after, running a hand through his hair. Nobody else was in the room, and they could hear clanging sounds from the kitchen.

“Breakfast,” Kyungsoo said softly. Luhan felt his stomach churn.

“Oh.”

“What are you going to do?”

Luhan shook his legs restlessly. He was hungry.

“I’m going to eat a little.”

Kyungsoo nodded. He stayed quiet, thinking for a while, before nodding again.

“I’m going to pretend I was sick last night and you took me into your bed because you didn’t want Jongin getting sick either. And that’ll explain the vomit if anyone noticed, ‘cause we didn’t flush the toilet last night. And then after breakfast I’ll pretend I feel sick so I can puke. Sound reasonable?”

Chills ran through Luhan’s spine like cold water was being poured down his back. Kyungsoo sounded so confident and casual about his quick plan, as if it didn’t worry him at all.

“They won’t let you work if you’re sick.”

“That’s too bad.”

Kyungsoo hopped off the bed easily and walked out of the room boldly – and, panicking, Luhan quickly followed.

The whole table was watching the two as they walked in together, and the first person to react was Jongin. He immediately stood up; chair falling backwards and table shaking as he knocked it with his legs.

His eyes were wet with tears; cheeks flushed red and fists clenched. Nobody had time to speak.

“You’re a liar, Do Kyungsoo,” Jongin hissed, smacking away Sehun’s hand when he tried to pull him back into his seat. Kyungsoo froze.

“Jongin, I—”

“I ing knew it!” he screamed. The words cut – Jongin almost never screamed, let alone cursed.

“I knew I shouldn’t have said a single thing to you! Because you don’t care about me, do you? You were lying this whole damn time!”

Everyone looked confused. Kyungsoo hastily grabbed for Jongin’s hand, but he shook it off.

“I thought you really felt the same way about me, Kyungsoo!” Jongin shouted, “I honestly, really damn thought you loved me back. But I was wrong. I was stupid, and I was wrong, because you don’t ing care about anyone except yourself!”

Luhan gasped soundlessly, because those words, he’d heard those words—

“You really don’t care about anyone other than yourself, do you?” Zitao spat. His eyes glittered with anger, but his voice was knotted with hurt, and Luhan didn’t know whether to be remorseful or terrified.

“All we’ve ever done is care about you, and now you’re just pushing us away?”

Jongin stumbled backwards as Kyungsoo desperately spluttered out tangles of words that couldn’t form into sentences, and Luhan grabbed at his hair, breathing with difficulty.

We don’t care about anyone other than ourselves because we can only trust each other. Nobody else.

And Kyungsoo let Jongin in.

His mind was screaming, I knew it, I told you so, but he couldn’t say the words. He could only stare helplessly as Jongin broke down into tears and screamed over Kyungsoo’s distressed words, denying everything he said.

“We’ve only got each other and ourselves. There’s nobody else to trust.”

Kyungsoo tried to speak and reach for Jongin’s hands, but he kept batting them away, taking shaky steps backwards until he was pressed against the wall.

“Jongin, please, listen to me—”

“No!” Jongin hollered, “no, no, I’m done! I really ing trusted you, Kyungsoo! I really thought you loved me back, you promised, you promised you loved me back! And now, n-now, you’re just s-sleeping around with the other members?!”

“I wasn’t sleeping around with him—!”

“You don’t give a about anyone except yourself, do you?!”

“Fine. Whatever. You don’t need to care about me. You don’t need to care about any of us.”

Kyungsoo was quivering, and the colour was draining from his face, because he knew, he knew it was true. He didn’t care about anyone. He was too caught up worrying about himself to think of anyone else.

How could he have possibly loved Jongin if he couldn’t even love himself?

“P-Please, Jongin…”

“I hate you, Kyungsoo!”

Tears streaming from his eyes, Jongin ran out of the room and locked himself in their bedroom with a slam, and Kyungsoo collapsed to his knees.

The atmosphere was deafening.

For a while, everyone sat there, completely dumbfounded and trying to figure out what had just happened, while Kyungsoo silently cried out his regret and Luhan focused on not passing out.

It’s my fault. It’s my fault. I knew this would happen.

What have I done to Jongin?

Kyungsoo eventually picked himself up off the floor, with everyone watching, and ran out of the room. Past his bedroom.

Into the bathroom.

Luhan’s eyes widened, and he immediately spun around and followed him, sticking his foot between the door and the wall before Kyungsoo could kick it closed. He slipped inside and quickly shut the door, running over kneeling behind Kyungsoo, who was in front of the toilet again.

The vomit from yesterday was gone.

Luhan quickly held the younger’s hair from his face and hugged him with his spare arm while Kyungsoo gagged and heaved, but nothing came out. He didn’t expect anything to come out, but it was the only thing he could do to prove how much of a failure he was.

Luhan probably didn’t care about him. What assured him that he did? Luhan couldn’t even care about himself, let alone anyone else.

They understood each other. But that was it.

Jongin was real. Jongin had real feelings. Jongin really, truly cared about him – and Kyungsoo had pretended, just for that short amount of time in their shallow relationship, that he cared back.

He wanted, so badly, to care back. But he couldn’t – because there was no emotion left in him. There was nothing left. He was living, breathing, but he was dead.

And now, he’d broken the heart of the only person that genuinely loved him. He’d shattered him. Jongin was perfect, and he’d ruined him.

Kyungsoo scraped his fingers along the most sensitive parts of his mouth and retched until he was coughing blood and screaming at himself, and Luhan finally pulled him back, taking his hands out of his mouth.

Kyungsoo pushed him away.

“Kyungsoo, stop, you’re coughing blood!”

“I want to die!” Kyungsoo wailed, “I hate myself!”

Luhan hugged Kyungsoo’s middle again, pulling the crying other back and trying to comfort him while he coughed weakly and wiped the blood from his lips.

They sat there for a few minutes in silence, and Junmyeon entered quietly. Neither of them had noticed he’d walked in until he gasped and cried, “Kyungsoo, you’re bleeding!”

Kyungsoo didn’t reply.

“Go away, Junmyeon,” Luhan said quietly.

Junmyeon scoffed. “Not when this is happening. I knew you were sick. Minseok said there was puke in the toilet in the morning, and now Kyungsoo’s vomited blood? That vomit was yours, wasn’t it, Kyungsoo?”

Still too emotionally crushed – not to mention his aching, raw throat – Kyungsoo closed his eyes and didn’t speak. Junmyeon sighed.

“I’m calling management. You’re not going to work today.”

Kyungsoo didn’t protest.

✏ [ a/n ] really long chapter guys! i hope that's a good thing? <3 i'm in class right now but i thought i'd update and maybe go home seeing some great feedback! thanks to all my new subscribers and all my lovely lovely commenters - i've already hit 82 subscribers! i can't believe so many people are enjoying this but i'm glad you are nevertheless <3 thank you for all you lovely support guys, i hope you're enjoying this so far and i love you all ^^

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