My wings fluttered behind me as I flew forward.
Through the cool, breezy air I moved.
Landing on the windowsill, I watched the man. Ever since the big one left, he'd been staring into his cup.
He hasn't moved other than to bring out his phone and to place it on the table in front of him.
He'd eventually sigh, resting his head on his hands.
It seemed as if a storm was brewing inside him, I would note, my wings splaying out behind me and I lifted off and set myself on the knuckle of his index finger, my behind glowing for him.
Some sort of comfort.

Jiyong didn't realize the time until a firefly had set itself on his finger, calmly looking up at him. He let it step along the rim of the mug before he went to put the cold cup of coffee on the counter.
He in a breath, his knees sore from sitting all day. He'd notice that the sun was setting. The muggy autumn dusk making its way into the kitchen air.
Turning around, he placed his bum against the edge of the counter and placed his arms behind him, supporting his weight. With a small chuckle, he threw his head back, the setting sun's warmth heating his neck.
He could call Seungri right now.
Seungri would comfort him as he blubbered over his own tears.
But just the thought of mentioning Seunghyun made him wince.
He hadn't spoken a word since this morning.

He let out another sigh, giving longing looks to the chair Seunghyun had sat in before making his way to the bedroom.

He insensibly flicked on the light, the ache in his heart filling the holes that seemed to set in his chest through the day. The comforting room brought such pain, at that moment. Seunghyun's stuff around the room, his numerous hoodies peaking out from the cracked closet door. Seunghyun's slippers by the bed, and his favourite blankie that he wrapped around the pillow, under the starkly white pillow case edging out from the opening.
He stood properly, ruffling his hair.

Maybe he'll call.
Or text.
Or run back screaming incomprehensible apologies, tears and snot making their way grossly down his face.

Jiyong realized though, that even if Seunghyun were to do that, the pain would still be there. And Jiyong would still be left with the constant thought of how he placed so much on Seunghyun. And how him, being young, didn't know what he'd done until it was ripped out of his hands.

The room felt heavy, empty. He felt so isolated in this place he had called home.

Home is where the heart is, Jiyong thought to himself.
And his home had also a mind, and its own heart that worked a different way than his.
His home had the ability to run off and leave whenever it wanted.

And Jiyong never wanted a home more than now.

He lazily threw himself into the bed, peeling off the oversized jersey he had yanked over his head this morning.

Taking more sleeping pills than probably required, he lied on his side, taking in the lingering scent of Seunghyun's cologne as he fell into a heavy sleep.