[part two: freak]

You spent your life having people tell you that you were different. But that was only because others made you believe it. They made you think that because you were not another blood- pit of greed and selfishness, you were wrong. 

They told you that you were wrong and you believed them. 

---

Though Baekhyun was still around, Junmyun had gone back to old habits, he stutters, his mind slurs his words, his sentences are unstrung, his actions are involuntary and irrelevant, and he feels different. When he gazes out the window at the falling snow, he feels the familiar barrier that holds him from everyone else. When he looks at Baekhyun, the idea that he is a stranger overbears everything else. When he thinks about how real Baekhyun feels under his fingertips, he finally believes he's gone insane, and because of that, the words stop. 

There used to be millions of words that swirl around his mind, but now he struggles to find a single word to comfort the dead silence between him and Baekhyun. 

Baekhyun notices, he attempts to start conversations, but Junmyun's lacklustre replies or - if Baekhyun is lucky - one, two, possibly three word answers are hard to accommodate. Eventually, Baekhyun drifts into mindless one-man conversations that Junmyun doesn't appear to listen to. After that, Baekhyun stays quiet. 

"Junmyun." The night is still when Baekhyun decides to murder the silence. "Junmyun." He repeats when Junmyun doesn't respond. "Junmyun." He repeats when Junmyun turns away from him. "Junmyun." 

"Shut up. Shut up. SHUT UP!" Junmyun screams as he tugs at his hair until the stinging feeling on his scalp distracts him. 

"I'm sorry."

It's quiet again, too quiet. Junmyun's mind is quiet, there are no voices, but the silence is deafening. There are no voices, and he finally feels like he is alone, too alone. Baekhyun is beside him, he feels the formerly comforting heat on his right leg, but now he believes he is meant to feel nothing. 

It's a week in and the quiet that gnaws at Junmyun's being finally explodes. In a matter of minutes his room is a mess, broken glass and feathers from his pillows, bleeding hands and dishevelled hair, Junmyun is crazy. 

A few hours later he arrives at the all-too-familiar house of white that he absolutely despises. A few minutes later he is trapped in a white room with a single window, steel framed bed and thin excuse of a mattress. He's insane. It courses through his veins, escapes through strangled screams and angered slaps to his own face. 

A week later he is frail and motionless, his eyes are unfocused and his crouched frame leans against the wall, limp and lifeless. He is living, but he doesn't feel alive. His body refuses to digest the food he forces down his throat and the stench of stomach bile all over the floor no longer fazes him. He falls asleep and wishes he wouldn't have to wake up the next day. He falls asleep, but even in his dreams, everyone screams at him. He sees Baekhyun's face when he closes his eyes. He feels Baekhyun's hair between his fingers and smells Baekhyun's signature scent of faint cologne. Baekhyun comes to visit every day, but the entire 3 hours is spent in gruelling silence as he sits on the floor across the room from Junmyun. After the session is over Baekhyun leaves as quietly as he comes. Junmyun no longer feels the need to say goodbye to someone who he has created with his own imagination. 

Darkness consumes him, he reaches up for help, but he's spent his entire life pushing people away, so no matter how far he stretches, all he feels is darkness. Cold, stale, false hope.

---

Day by day, you lived in silence, the boy who refused to speak because he was wrong. A big red cross stained your existence, and no matter how you tried, no matter how hard you scrubbed or attempted to clear the canvas and start a new, you would wake up and everything would be as it was the day before. 

---

Junmyun loses consciousness on the twelfth day. His cheeks are hollow, face a sickly pale, chest barely inching up before slamming down and knocking the strings of hope out of Junmyun's grasp. 

They find him collapsed on the floor, and by the time Junmyun wakes up in a white-washed room, all he remembers is screaming and screaming and screaming. 

It's not his voice.

It's Baekhyun's.

---

Every time I would watch you clean the flashes of red that told you that you were different, it would scrape what little self-control I had left in me that told me to stay. I would disappear, because I thought I could run away. I wished I had been able to run away, so that now I wouldn’t have to face you and tell you that I was a lie.

---

It takes him three weeks to recover, and by the time he is able to sit up on his own he demands to be home. The white around him drives him insane, reminds him of snow, of the cell that dubbed him insane, of Baekhyun. He feels soft skin under his fingertips and screams, but as always Baekhyun is on the other side of the room, silent. 

After screaming all night and scaring the boy in the next room by the name of Jongin, the doctors whisper in the hallways and discharge him. And once again, he's back in high school.

The freak.

Suho.

---

Deep down in the pits of innocent smiles and fabricated facts, there was one part of me that knew my feelings for you were truthful and sincere. I would look back and wish I could change what had already happened, that I could’ve torn the paper that sealed the deal and loved you without burden.

---

Suho sits and gazes out the window fogged by his breath. With a tentative finger he draws a straight line across and squints through the crack at the outside world. He heaves a sighs and the view disappears. 

He almost laughs. 

Because the more he breathes, the more his effort to find some sense of meaning to his existence becomes blurred lines and fogged windows. 

---

However, it’s too late for that. It’s too late to change anything. The main actor is already dead, lying in a pool of deep red blood, and no matter how much I scream or wish for things to turn out differently, he is dead.

---

"Junmyun." His voice is raspy and hoarse, and it occurs to Suho that Baekhyun stopped talking when he did. He lets out a mocking scoff, shakes his head and focuses on the falling snow and wind gnawing away at the building walls. 

"Junmyun please." His voice is there again. It sounds so real. "Junmyun don't do this." 

From a height, the buildings look tiny, the people tinier, but their smiles seem to drift in the skies and laugh at Suho. He gazes down, sticks a hand over the edge and slowly clasps his fingers into a fist. He tries to grab a hold of their smiles, slaps his face a few times, feels the stinging cold and screams. No matter how much he tries, the smiles are too far from his reach, so he leans forward, reaches out into the frosty winter air, and his body falls. 

The only thing on the news that night is a report on a new baby elephant born at the zoo, a few tips on how to save money when travelling over the holidays and the heroic blind teenager who had saved the life of a suicidal schizophrenic mess. 

---

Every day, I would glue shards of crystals together to be the light in your dark.

---

Suho never really recovers, but at least the warmth under his palms and the soft strands of chocolate brown hair between his finger tells him the male who lies with his head on his lap is real. 

Some nights Suho has woken up screaming. His hands would shake to a point of convulsion, the cold sweat that slicks his hair against his forehead freezing in the pre-dawn drafts. But Baekhyun is always there. The shirts Baekhyun wears always end the day drenched in the tears of the "schizophrenic mess". Baekhyun wishes the consequences of his actions could carve the selfishness out of his bones. Instead they prod at Suho, wake him up at ungodly hours of the night until he's screaming and the police are at his front door responding to filed complaints. Suho falls asleep in Baekhyun's arms, but wakes up alone and cold. The lingering thoughts of dwelling nightmares rock his sanity. Baekhyun tries to make Suho feel more like Kim Junmyun, but Suho has fallen so deep into a pit of his own self-doubt that it's almost impossible to pull him out. 

---

Lonely and cold, I would reach out for you but no one would be there to catch me when I fell. 

---

"He's real."

"He's not real."

"He's real."

"He's not real." 

Suho counts the marshmallows piled in his cup of hot chocolate, searching for an answer in a swirl of brown and white. Baekhyun has his own cup in his hand. He's seated on the floor beside Suho's bed, eyes closed, and taking quiet sips every time Suho ends another sentence. 

"He's real." 

"He's not real."

Suho has run out of marshmallows. 

In a fit of anger he shoves one of the marshmallows in his mouth, swallowing down the possibility that Baekhyun is another one of them. By them he means the people who look at him but aren't really there, speak to him but are simply noises of the wind that have been bent and played with by his 'psychologically damaged' brain. He glances over and his eyebrows furrow. Baekhyun flinches when the cup is taken out of his hands but stops to listen as he hears frantic feet on carpeted stairs.

Thud, thud, thud, fading into the distance. 

Suho skids around the corner and startles his mum who is seated at the dining table surrounded by endless sheets of paper. 

She panics as soon as he appears and her hands race to cover the papers from his eyes, but they are far from prying. His eyes drill into hers, unmoving as he scrambles forward and holds the cup out to her. 

"Is this empty?" His words tumble out at a rapid pace, his hands are shaking.

"Y-Yes?" 

"I SAID IS THIS EMPTY?!" Suho screams. His eyes travel to her hand, knuckles white as her grasp on the backrest of the chair tightens. 

Fear.

He sees it in her eyes, the slight tilt of her body away from him, her iron grip on the inanimate object, the shaking of her legs that he tries to ignore. His own mum is afraid of him. Of course, he scoffs to himself in his mind, I, too, would be scared if my own son had more personalities than I did fingers. She nods quickly and swallows hard.

He storms back up to his room and slams the door open. Baekhyun is on his feet, and he has hardly any time to recover from the sudden burst before he is pinned up to the wall. He's defenceless, he tries to fight back but Suho's entire frame is pressed up against him. Eventually, he stops fighting, chants a chorus of 'he won't hurt me he won't hurt me he won't hurt me' until it feels like more of a prayer than a wish. His worries turn into something more intense, strong, wrong. He's on fire. The parts of his body not flush against Suho's feel frozen, cold and coursing with desire to be ignited by the male in front of him. He feels Suho's ribs through his thin shirt and forces himself to calm down.

"J-Junmyun." He whimpers but in response he is peeled off the wall and slammed back. He winces, feels fresh bruises scattering his back but choose to ignore it. 

It's silent, deadly silent, except for the heavy breathes that tickle down the side of Baekhyun's neck. It's hot and heavy, smells of hot chocolate and marshmallows, but is neither sweet nor pleasant. He can feel the pain, the rapid thrumming of Junmyun's heart rumbles through Baekhyun's chest. Their heartbeat pulse at alternating moments, filling in the spots the other misses, both rapid and yearning. 

Timid hands find their way to Junmyun's face, traces the features of his troubled expressions. Tilted eyebrows, closed eyes, sharp nose, parted lips. Baekhyun's fingers stop on Junmyun's lips. He feels the hot air between his finger tips and shivers. 

"I'm real." Baekhyun whispers, feels Junmyun's lips close and hears him swallow. "I'm real." He repeats. "I'm re-" 

Junmyun's lips are on his. They're sudden and frantic, begging and intense. Baekhyun flinches, the unfamiliar feeling shocks him, but he feels no need to pull away. Almost naturally his hands find their way to Junmyun's face, pulls him closer as Junmyun presses him harder against the wall. He can't get enough of Junmyun, his cold hands feel like they're burning when pressed against his cheeks. Baekhyun responds with shy nips but only kisses harder when he feels wetness on his fingertips. Junmyun needs him, begs for him, and pleads for the male in his arms to be real through the tears that roll down his cheeks. Baekhyun grabs a fistful of Junmyun's shirt, pulls it taunt. Baekhyun feels like he's on fire, his world of black splashed with vibrant shades of yellow and red. 

Just as much as Junmyun needs him, Baekhyun needs Junmyun. 

---

Piece by piece, my crystals fell, and so did you into the depth of my lies. 

---

As much as Baekhyun tries to deny it, he misses Junmyun's touch, gentle then rough, frantic then patient, loving then steaming with desire. He remembers the warmth of Junmyun's body that pressed him up against the wall, the strength hidden under malnourished bones. He gently bites his lip, yearns for the softness of Junmyun's lips on his, the fire it sparked within him, the rush of adrenaline, desire and love.

He's fallen in love with Junmyun. He no longer tries to deny the facts that are pasted in his mind wherever he goes. He can't stop thinking about Junmyun, and it starts to drive him insane, because he isn't meant to. 

---

Wounds cut so deep into reality that the blood seeps through the crack, and the hurt and pain I have caused will never be healed.

---

They're on the windowsill again, gazing outside and relishing in the warmth of each other's company. Baekhyun is between Junmyun's legs, back resting on Junmyun's chest as he plays with his fingers. Junmyun reaches forward, grasps both Baekhyun's hands with one of his own and rests his chin on Baekhyun's bony shoulder. 

"Your hands are pretty." He whispers, breath tickles Baekhyun's ear. His lips are so close. Baekhyun swallows and presses his cheek against Junmyun's. 

"What do they look like?" Baekhyun whispers as Junmyun's loving chuckle echoes through the room.

"They're about half the size of mine but double the length." Junmyun sticks his other hand out and Baekhyun grabs a hold of it. 

Baekhyun runs his hands over Junmyun's, feels the soft surface and the gentle wrinkles that scatter his palm. He leans forward and presses a kiss on Junmyun's fingertips, feels a hand turn his head to the side before Junmyun's lips find his once again. The lingering desire bursts and he immediately responds, slides back against Junmyun so he feels every muscle on his chest. His hand reach to cup Junmyun's face, lightly runs his thumb over rosy cheeks and flawless complexion. 

Junmyun slowly pulls away, keeps his eyes closed, and breathes in Baekhyun's fresh cologne. 

"I don't care if you aren't real, just don't leave me." Junmyun pleads, voice drips in sincerity.

Baekhyun feels his chest tighten. 

---

As I watch you from afar, I am filled by nothing but regret. I’ll watch you stick the crystals back together to make some sense of the life that I have ruptured, limb by limb, string by string. 

---

It's not long until spring rolls around, tickles at their noses and burst in shades of green and yellow. The two are pacing hand in hand through the quiet street and calming ambiance. 

"What's your favourite colour?" Baekhyun asks, hushed tone swirls through Junmyun's mind. 

"Blue." He smiles, anything is better than white. 

"I like black." Baekhyun states and Junmyun playfully nudges him. 

"How many people are in your family?" 

"My dad." Baekhyun comments, but Junmyun notices the dip in his tone and frowns. He sees it in Baekhyun's expression that he doesn't want to talk about it, so he drops the topic. 

"How did you get into my house the first time?" Junmyun asks and unknowingly pulls a string in Baekhyun's chest. 

"I-I... U-Um.... Your mum let me." He stumbles over his words and hopes it doesn't show on his face. 

"How did you know me?" He's quick to ask another question and after barely scraping through the first time, Baekhyun's nervousness peeks through his forced calm facade. 

"I-I can't remember." He blurts and Junmyun stops walking. He gazes over at Baekhyun, inspects the troubled look on his face and bursts into laughter. 

"You're dumb." Junmyun laughs as Baekhyun heaves a huge sigh.

"I know I am." 

---

Someday, when everything is but a distant memory, maybe I will have the courage to come back, to face the mess that I have left behind. 

---

"Do you drive?" It's early in the morning and after Junmyun finally manages to cook breakfast (more like Baekhyun had listened to Junmyun throw pots and pans around for half an hour before he decided on a menu of butter