I didn't say yes.

Not because I was afraid of having a grown man in my room for the night, but because, after hearing his unexpected request, I couldn't find it in me to utter a single word. At that moment, Byun Baekhyun's hands were shaking, along with his voice. The words escaping his lips were severed, tattered and distant. The view was so overwhelming, the fear emitting from him so real, that I had no choice but to wordlessly take a step back and gesture for him to enter my room. And Baekhyun didn't hesitate even for a second. When he walked in, quietly passing me by, I knew it was the best decision I could've made. A constant silence dominated this strange and unexpected situation, but even without either of us having to say a word, we both knew what to do. Natural and calm, that's how we acted.

  Twenty minutes later, I was lying in my bed, head propped up on my hand and elbow pronged in one of the white pillows around me. We were watching an old comedy, but I couldn't really tell what was happening onscreen. My eyes were glued to Baekhyun, who sat silently watching the movie on the floor with his back pressed up against my bed and his arms folded around his legs, pressed tightly to his chest. His hair was still damp from the quick shower he'd taken just a few minutes ago, and the pleasant scent of the hotel shampoo he'd found in my bathroom distracted me whenever I leaned too close to him.

He looked calm watching TV, like a teenage boy having a sleepover with his friends. So different from the shattered picture he'd presented a few hours ago that I was ready to question the authenticity of the sudden breakdown he’d had before my very eyes. I wanted to know the reason behind his sudden change, but since the moment he'd entered my room, I hadn’t been able to muster up the courage it took for me to ask him about it. Instead, I waited for him to tell the truth on his own, knowing deep inside it would never happen.

"Do you want to go to bed?" I asked all of a sudden, when Baekhyun stifled yet another yawn. "I can sleep on the floor."

"I should be the one sleeping on the floor, don't you think?" he said quietly, not averting his eyes from the movie even for a second. "And I'm not sleepy."

That, of course, was a big fat lie. Since the beginning of the movie, Baekhyun had been fighting his drowsiness and fatigue. I'd watched him close his eyes for a few moments longer than necessary, only to force them open again and half-consciously look at the actors on the screen. I didn't know why he refused to fall asleep, but it was becoming too painful to watch.

I took a deep breath to encourage myself and patted the pillow next to me. "Come on, lay down here. I’ll set up a bed on the floor for myself."

"The main guy reminds me of Luhan." Baekhyun quickly changed the subject with forced excitement in his voice when I made an attempt to stand up. I unconsciously looked back at the TV. A young blonde British teenager was having the time of his life in a club, surrounded by dozens of beer bottles, and I couldn't help but snort.

"He doesn't look like Luhan even one bit," I retorted. "How long have you actually known Luhan to think he resembles a alcoholic teenager?"

"We went to high school together," he replied, tilting his head to the side to gaze at the young boy grabbing the tights of some giggling girl. "Yeah, that's exactly how I remember him."

"You're kidding, right?" I asked in horror, and Baekhyun jerked his head around to look at me over his shoulder. He peered at me through half-lidded eyes, and I swallowed hard, fidgeting uncomfortably under his stare before he suddenly decided to go back to watching the movie.

"Of course I'm kidding," he said casually. "Luhan's a nice guy. He always has been."

I leaned back, totally confused over the exchange we’d just had. If Baekhyun wanted to joke around, he was doing an awful job of being funny, especially with that dead serious tone of voice. What was more, he’d made me think of my ex-boyfriend again, causing me to wonder if I really knew him as well as I'd always claimed to. I swallowed back the sudden urge to ask Baekhyun about Luhan's mysterious past and instead made an attempt to get more information about Baekhyun himself.

"Luhan went to high school in London," I began carefully. "That means you must have also spent your high school years in the UK. Is that how you two met?"

The question hung in the air for a long moment before Baekhyun finally decided to answer it.

"I was sent there one year before him," he spoke to the TV after a moment of silence. "My father couldn't wait any longer to kick me out of the house, so he sent me to the UK before I could graduate from my junior year in high school."

Stunned, I gazed at Baekhyun's back, having quite a hard time digesting the awful information he’d just given me. "I'm sorry."

"Why?" He turned to me, seeming genuinely surprised. "I had a great time away from him."

I scoffed slightly at his words. "Isn't it tragic to be in conflict with your parents? That's what I feel sorry for."

"The only tragic thing about it is my father," he said firmly, sounding suddenly offended as he laid his head back against my bed, closing his eyes as if he had decided the talk was over. One look at Baekhyun was enough to make me realize that he hated his father – loathed him wholeheartedly. Why? I had no bloody clue, but my eyes unconsciously fell on the scar starting around his wrist and disappearing under his sleeve.

The scar on his forearm had caught my interest since the day we'd first met. The urge to find out the story behind it had always lingered, hiding at the back of my mind, but I'd never found the courage to ask him about it. The unexpected mention of his father and the hatred emanating from Baekhyun's every gesture when he spoke about him sparked assumptions on my part about the old man probably playing a big role in leaving that scary wound on Baekhyun's forearm.

Normally, I would’ve left my thoughts unspoken, but not today. Before I had a chance to think twice, the words I had dreaded to say till now escaped my lips.

"Baekhyun..." I murmured quietly, startled at the sudden courage urging me to dig into his past. His eyes still closed, Baekhyun didn't even budge, looking as though he were already in a deep sleep. I continued, knowing he could still hear me. "Your scar... is that your father's doing?"

His eyelids quivered for a short second, as if my question had shocked him endlessly, and then he opened them slowly, boring his absent eyes into the ceiling. His jaw clenched unexpectedly as he swallowed hard, debating whether to tell me the truth or keep the secret to himself. I would be lying if I said I didn't want to know the reason for the ugly scar that ran halfway up his arm, but the moment Baekhyun turned his head and met my eyes, I felt my insides tighten up with instant regret.

His eyes blazed with a disgust and hatred so intense I felt