"There are no happy endings.
Endings are the saddest part,
So just give me a happy middle
And a very happy start." - Shel Silverstein

Armani suit cut and tailored to classy perfection, the diamonds of his Rolex watch shining brighter than ever under the morning’s sunlight, Nichkhun managed to catch a quick glance of himself from the mirror as he tightened his tie around the blinding white of his collar. For someone who holds an enormous amount of wealth from the tip of his hair to the sole of his shoes, Nichkhun saw someone surprisingly miserable and pathetic in the reflection of the brutally honest mirror.

Every morning at precisely 6:30 o’clock, the sharp shriek of an alarm would wake the young business man up from an otherwise pleasant dream to reality. With half opened eyes and unruly hair, he would drag himself to the bathroom and take a quick shower before spending an unreasonable amount of time getting ready so that he could at least look half presentable. After that, he would set foot out of his high end apartment set in the depths of the very finest estates of Gangnam and drive to work, not before stopping by the local Starbucks to purchase his daily Americano. No sugar, no milk, no smile as the barista hands his drink to him across the counter, just simple, bitter, empty black.

It wasn’t always like this, however. At one point in time, he liked his coffee extra sweet, extra creamy and extra happy. He would wake up when he felt like it, even if he was at the risk of being late to school; his daily wardrobe consisted of a simple t-shirt and ripped up jeans and he didn’t leave or return to an empty home. At one point in time, he lived to dream. And while his dream not only consisted of the of brush or graffiti paint against any empty canvas he could find, whether it be a piece of paper, a smudged and overused chalkboard, or even an abandoned and collapsed piece of architecture of the street, his dream also consisted of a certain chestnut brown haired boy.

But his dreams were no longer dreams as it remained only as an unrealistic idea of the past, and the chestnut brown haired boy was no longer but a fragment of a fading, distant and sad memory, no matter how much he wanted them back.

“Director, you have an appointment scheduled with Executive Lee from TS Group today at 10 o’clock. They are considering the idea of backing out from the contract and the President has instructed me to tell you that you have to guarantee they sign the contract no matter what…” With occasional nods and quiet ‘Mhm’s to show that he is listening even when he is doing contrary to his actions, Nichkhun tuned the young secretary out as he took a small sip of his coffee, flipping through stacks of documents absentmindedly.

He doesn’t quite remember his dreams anymore as the numbers and words of various contracts and documents took its place. The face of the certain chestnut brown haired boy was no longer as clear and vivid as it used to be but is now replaced with the faces of numerous Executives, Directors, Presidents and officials that he flashes a fake smile and small yet firm handshake to everyday.

Was he happy? Nichkhun asked himself the exact same questions constantly but the answer never seemed to change.

No.

No, he wasn’t happy. In fact, he doesn’t remember what the word ‘happiness’ meant anymore. He can no longer find the happiness in the cool, summer night breeze as he stepped out from the company onto the street. He can no longer find the happiness of driving home through an almost empty highway past the speed limit. He can no longer find the happiness of grabbing that one last late night coffee at the small café down the street, because the only reason he needed it now was so that he could stay up past dawn typing away on papers and documents.

The only happiness he could find these days was at the place that people found sadness in. And the only dreams he could retrace again was at an old, abandoned ruin.

Today, he wanted that dose of bittersweet happiness. With an abrupt change of lanes to the opposite direction of home, Nichkhun drove down a path that was even more familiar than home, stopping by a florist to pick up a certain chestnut brown haired boy’s favorite flowers, baby breaths.

The cemetery was enveloped in dead silence under the presence of the night, which was not very surprising at 1:00AM in the morning. Although tragic, there was something strangely peaceful and bittersweet about the way the stars and moon above shone on the white marble of the graves. Walking in a familiar path, Nichkhun’s feet directed him to a specific tombstone. Engravings were lightly faded by the countless number of finger prints pressed against it daily, and the picture of a smiling chestnut brown haired boy held the tiniest little scratches, but his smile remained the same. Carefree, pure, radiant, and happy.

Setting down the bouquet of baby breaths against the tombstone gently, Nichkhun plopped himself on the ground with a low grunt, tossing his briefcase aside without a second glance, because right now, those were no longer relevant.

“Wooyoung-ah….”

The soft whisper of the boy’s name broke the cemetery’s dead silence, and Nichkhun could almost hear Wooyoung’s voice calling back to him, saying the same “Neh, hyung?” that he grew so accustomed to back in the days, that he took for granted each day. But now that he could no longer hear it, he longed to hear just two simple syllables; he longed to hear his voice again, but that was no longer possible.

Letting the silence swallow him whole again, Nichkhun simply sat in the middle of the cemetery without a word spoken. After four years of repeatedly coming here, he had stopped talking, because he knows that Wooyoung sees everything from above, he knows that no words needs to be exchanged between them, and he knows that no matter what he says, he will never hear a reply back. After the many years of pain and heartbreak, he learned how to control his heart from shattering into pieces whenever he saw the picture of the smiling Wooyoung, he learned how to stop his tears from flowing down his reddened cheeks with every mention of the boy, he learned to move on, just like how Wooyoung told him to do so before he left.

Sometimes, Nichkhun trips on the idea of how happy they could be together. He dreams about what they could have been and they could be. He fantasizes about their future, of waking up next to Wooyoung, of cooking breakfast, talking about their dreams, walking alongside the beach in Busan hand in hand and cuddling under a blanket watching TV together.

But on days like today, all he could manage to say was a croaky, brittle and quavering,

“I miss you…”

-

As with most cases, Nichkhun and Wooyoung’s relationship was nowhere near love at first sight, in fact, it started as a friendship. They met at the age of six, of young innocence and naïve carelessness. It all enfolded on the first day of school and Wooyoung was frightened out of his wits. He had always been a shy kid and people were beyond intimidating to him, which proved to be a huge problem when he entered the classroom full of people away from his mother’s usual comforting embrace, and suddenly felt a wave of anxiety and fear. However, fear was not the only thing he felt.

“Psst, did he just pee his pants.”

“Of course he did, just look at that huge spot on his pants!” Stifled giggles and quiet sneers were immediately heard across the classroom, whispers began spreading like wildfire and Wooyoung’s chubby cheeks was instantly tinted a bright, tomato red.

“What a baby.”

“I bet he still his thumb too.”

Wooyoung felt his bottom lip quiver and the corners of his eyes prickling with hot, burning tears, with heavy steps and bent head; he began to make his way down the aisle of desks to find an empty seat, trying his best to avoid eye contact among the sea of giggling kids. As he eventually found an empty desk at the back of the classroom and started to sit down, the boy beside the unoccupied desk let out a loud “Eeeeewww.” before plopping his backpack on the empty chair, “I don’t want a baby that still pees his pants sitting beside me. Ew, gross.”

Unable to hold back his tears from falling, Wooyoung gripped the straps of his backpack tightly and turned away, making his way out to the door as he was just another word closer to breaking down and crying. But a firm grip on his wrist stopped him just before he was about to make a dash towards the door.

“Here, you can sit beside me.” Dark eyebrows folded together in worry, the little boy let out a warm smile as he pulled Wooyoung to the seat beside him, ignoring the whispers heard around the classroom as he extended a hand out to the sniffling boy, just like how he sees his dad do it. “My name is Nichkhun. Ni-koon. Not Nish-kun or Nish-ka-hun. Ni-Koon.”

A little flustered and surprised, Wooyoung sniffed one last time before hesitantly taking the other’s boy’s hand, head still bent down, he glanced under teary eyelashes and whispered a quiet, “I’m Wooyoung.”

“Wooyoung? That’s a weird name.” Wooyoung didn’t have the chance to point out that the other was the one that had the weird name before Nichkhun broke out into another big smile. Wooyoung didn’t know why, but he felt instantly felt better. “Well, it’s nice to meet you Wooyoung-ie. I don’t have a lot of friends because I just moved here from a place far, far away. So we should be friends! Deal?”

Before Wooyoung could even reply himself, Nichkhun did it with yet another warm smile.

“Deal.”

-

As young boys, their dreams were to become an astronaut, a firefighter, a police man or a pilot. But as the years grew by, not only did the two boys change, but their dreams did too. Nichkhun found passion in art. He loved drawing, in every shape and size. Although spotless clean canvases and paper were attractive, he found himself most intrigued when walking by abandoned buildings and dirty walls, and would usually leave a masterpiece to what started off as a completely unappealing piece of useless cement off the broken apart parts of Seoul.

It all started in the first year of high school as he and Wooyoung decided to stray away from their usual route back home to an abandoned part of town. Without a single warning, the sky unfolded to pouring rain and the two boys had no choice but to find a shelter and coincidentally stumbled across a torn up building. As they sat down, crossed legged on the ground, Nichkhun noticed the wall was filled with curses and discouraging words, with a big frown, he immediately took out the black bottle of half used spray paint that he was using to paint the set of the school’s play and walked towards the dirty wall, shaking the bottle of spray paint before spraying a bold line of black onto the surface.

Wooyoung, now noticing the other’s sudden actions, perked up with interest. “Hyung, what are you doing?”

“Painting a tree.”

“A tree?”

“Mhm, some bastard decided it was alright to vandalize the wall with dirty . If you want to vandalize it, at least do it right.” With that, he continued with the black line, making an outline for what was slowly forming into a tree, trunk and branches slowly coming into place.

Wooyoung only smiled and stuck up a thumb in approval, “You’re the best hyung.”

“I know.” With a playful wink and a quick glance back, Nichkhun tossed the empty black spray paint aside in disappointment, knowing fully well that this definitely won’t be the last time he sees this place.

-

As the years passed by, the two little boys were no longer boys as they underwent the awkward puberty years and entered young adulthood. They grew taller, their shoulders broader, voice deeper and bodies stronger, they lost their baby fat and grew into two beyond attractive young men.

Throughout their high school years, Nichkhun was constantly swarmed around by desperate and hopeless, hormone raging teenage girls (and occasionally, boys), as they practically threw themselves at him, all fluttering eyelashes and puckered red lips. He was undeniably the more popular one but that never changed his and Wooyoung’s strong friendship. Everyone knew that whenever there’s Nichkhun, there is also Wooyoung, they came in a packaged deal and no one questioned it even once.

However, they did questions their relationship with each other. Even though Nichkhun has had his fair share of girlfriends, it always seemed as if he spends more time with Wooyoung than with his own girlfriend, which would always end up with one broken relationship after the next, and Wooyoung was always there behind his back whenever it happens. Nichkhun never saw the problem and would always assume that he was just lacking in some ways, but Wooyoung saw it through the glares filled with hatred and jealousy of various girls as he walked across campus, although at that time, he thought it was outrageous, he still felt guilty that he played a part in Nichkhun’s constant breakups.

“Maybe we should stay clear of each other for some time, don’t you think hyung?” One day, Wooyoung timidly brought up the topic as they lied under the protection of a huge tree’s shade, a book in his hand while a sketchpad in Nichkhun’s.

Glancing up from a quick sketch, Nichkhun raised a single eyebrow in confusion, letting the younger male continue.

“I know it’s beyond stupid but people might take it the wrong way.”

“What do you mean?”

Giving the other a flat look, Wooyoung gently hit the other’s arms with the book in hand, knowing fully well that it won’t hurt him. “Do I really need to spell it out for you?”

Dramatically rubbing his arm as if the impact actually did have an effect, Nichkhun gave a theatrical pout and shuffled closer to Wooyoung, letting his head rest on the other’s laps, completely oblivious to the looks people were starting to give them, “Well, so-rry, I’m not as smart as you, Mr-Know-It-All.”

Rolling his eyes, Wooyoung flicked the other’s forehead lightly and folded his arms together. “Fine.” Debating on how to phrase his words with a little difficulty, he settled for the only solution and blurted the words out with a slight pink blush on his cheeks. “People think we’re gay.” Pointing in between them and gesturing at Nichkhun’s position on him, “For each other.”

Immediately springing up and distancing himself a good meter or two away from Wooyoung, Nichkhun broke into a fit of giggles. “Oh god, no. Us?” Eventually able to stop his laughter, the male shook his head in disbelief at how outrageous it sounded. “No way, we’re just super close bros. Who even started this rumour?”

“I know. Ridiculous, right?” Letting out a few hearty chuckles himself, Wooyoung couldn’t help but feel a wave of what almost felt like disappointment, as if he was expecting a different reaction. They were just really close friends, nothing more. But deep down, Wooyoung wanted more than just a friendship.

-

The Horvejkul family owns a large corporate business. After the eldest son of the family ran away in fear of being pressured into having the business handed down to himself, Nichkhun was officially declared as the next heir in line, no opinions were asked, and no questions were raised.

He couldn’t become an artist, they said. What an unstable and futureless job, they scolded the young high school boy, telling him that his responsibility was the family’s business, he would make his father proud, and they told him he would thank them later.

Before he could even fulfill his dream, it was already crushed.

That night, Nichkhun went to the bar and downed more bottles of alcohol than he should have.

That night, with staggering steps and heavy eyelids, he stumbled into Wooyoung’s house in the middle of the night; he didn’t want to go home, not today.

“Jesus, hyung, you reek of soju. Where the hell have you been?” Stomping down the stairs grumpily after being forced to wake up from an otherwise pleasant dream, Wooyoung opened the door to a falling Nichkhun, without thinking, he caught the older boy in his arms, nose wrinkling upon the strong smell.

“Wooyoung-ah, I draw well right?”

“Hm?” Eyebrows raised in confusion, he nodded hesitantly at the sudden strange question, “Of course, you’re the best I’ve seen!”

Suddenly breaking into a loud laugh, Nichkhun stepped out of the other’s strong hold on him and staggered towards a painting hung on the wall, hand raising up limply to point at the framed piece of artwork, “Then why won’t they let me draw? I don’t know business, I can’t do math, , I’m failing in every single class in school except art! How the am I supposed to handle their business with this of a brain I have, , Wooyoung, !”

Heaving a deep sigh, Wooyoung walked towards the older male and slung the other’s arm around his shoulders, dragging them both up the stairs as Nichkhun trailed behind him, muttering curse after curse, words slurred and not making the least bit sense. Wooyoung didn’t have to ask to know what had happened, and he knew that he couldn’t meddle in this part of his life no matter how much he wanted to, and he knew that no matter how painful it was to see Nichkhun this way, he couldn’t do anything to take that shattered dream inside him and glue it back together. When it came to Nichkhun’s family, Wooyoung was as useless as Nichkhun’s dreams were to his parents.

Kicking open his bedroom door with his feet, Wooyoung attempted to drag the bigger male inside without much luck. When he eventually thought he shoved the other inside the door frame, he only found himself suddenly pinned up against the bedroom door, a pair of strong arms on either side of him and dark, brown orbs too close to his own.

“Hyung…” Voice coming out in a mere whisper, Wooyoung tried to back away from the other’s sudden close contact as much as he can, yet failing in result at Nichkhun’s strong grasp on him, as he glanced up under his eyelashes to look into the other’s eyes, he saw a pair of orbs darkening with danger and lust.

It scared Wooyoung.

“Hyung, what are you do-“ Hot, eager lips found itself against Wooyoung’s delicate, soft ones, interrupting his sentence to a series of accidental moans that escaped out of the younger’s mouth. As if on reflex, Wooyoung responded to the other’s kiss, hands automatically around Nichkhun’s shirt and leaning into the other’s embrace. He knew this was wrong, the kiss wasn’t gentle in the least bit, and he couldn’t find a single ounce of affection in what was merely a clash of lip against lip, yet without thinking, he forfeited into the momentary blindness of simply the taste of Nichkhun’s mouth against his that he had secretly longed for all these years.

“Hyung, you’re drunk.” Taking every last bit of strength left in him, Wooyoung pushed the other away in hitched breaths, eyes doing everything they can to fall on anywhere but the other. But all his effort went down the drain as the other once again took a single stride towards him, warm hands slipping under his pajama shirt and trailing down dangerously low, hot breath against his neck as Nichkhun hushed the other quietly.

“Sshh, Young-ie. You’re too loud.”

And when the elder male’s lip found itself against his lips once again, Wooyoung knew he lost. He simply gave himself up to the pleasure of Nichkhun’s lip against his, hands around his , and tongue trailing down his body sinfully.

Not one single second of this was right.

And when Wooyoung finally reached his and fell on top of Nichkhun’s bare chest, the reality of everything finally sank in.

He felt disgusted, dirty, and utterly ashamed of himself.

Yet as he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep, he still loved Nichkhun, silently and wordlessly.

-

The next day, Nichkhun woke up to an empty bed, in a house that wasn’t his but as familiar as his own house. His head throbbed and his body ached, and as he glanced down at his body, fragments of last night suddenly replayed like a broken record, and before he even had time to comprehend what he did, he knew he ed up, bad.

“Wooyoung, we…” Nichkhun found Wooyoung on campus when he eventually rushed to school, hair flying in all different directions and button buttoned incorrectly. On his way here, he had planned a whole apology speech and imagined countless different scenarios in his head, but when he was actually faced in front of his best friend, whom he probably ed last night, everything suddenly went blank. “…we didn’t…”

“We didn’t…?”

Wooyoung’s reaction caught him in surprise, he thought that he would either get beat up, ignored, or yelled at, but staring into a calm and seemingly indifferent face was not how he imagined the other’s reaction to be like.

“We didn’t…have…uh…”

“? We did.”

.

“Oh , Wooyoung, god, I’m-”Word suddenly caught in his throat, Nichkhun stopped himself before he could go on. What was he? Sorry? He showed up in front of his best friend’s house at two in the morning, drunk out of his mind and then ed Wooyoung senseless, and the only thing he could say was a single sorry? He took the other’s ity last night, and he did it drunk, forcefully, and with no romantic feelings attached, and he showed up here expecting the other to be fine with a single ‘sorry’. And yet, that was the only thing he could say. “I’m so sorry.”

“Mhm.”

“I-I wasn’t thinking. Oh god, I’m so sorry.”

“Mhm.” Wooyoung didn’t look once into the other’s eyes and only continued walking, with Nichkhun following closely behind, eyebrows furrowed in guilt and worry.

“Is there anything I can do to make up for what I did last night? Anything, I’ll do anything you say. You don’t know how sorry I am, Woo, I’m not even going to ask for your forgi-“

“Look, hyung.” Cutting the other off abruptly as he suddenly stopped in his steps, causing the older male to bump into his back, Wooyoung turned around quickly and finally faced Nichkhun, taking a deep breath before continuing. “Hyung, I like you.”

The sudden confession surprised Nichkhun, and before he even had the time to comprehend the other’s words, Wooyoung continued.

“I don’t know when I started liking you or why I started liking you, but I just know that I like you. I like you and your dirtiness, your wrong sense of humor and occasional stupidity. I like your smile, your laugh, your voice. I like you when you play the guitar, when you sing, when you doze off in class and I like you the most when you draw. I know you don’t like me the same way I like you and I know you didn’t mean anything from yesterday night, I don’t want you to feel burdened because it isn’t your fault. But if you had to make up for what happened last night, let’s just stop seeing each other for a while.”

“Wooyoung-”

“Hyung, let me finish.”

“I like you a lot, hyung. So please, at least until I sort out these feelings I have for you, I can’t have you around pretending like nothing happened. You won’t ever like me, I get that. So please, just until these feelings go away.” Voice growing noticeably quieter with each sentence enough that it turned into a mere whisper in the end, Wooyoung forced out a small smile and a little wave as he turned around again and walked into the building, not before turning around and saying the usual, “Bye, hyung!” before disappearing amongst the crowd of students.

Nichkhun didn’t see him for days.

That night, neither of them slept.

-

Thursday, 11:09pm
Wooyoung-ah, I’m so sorry…forgive me?

Thursday, 11:12pm
You can’t just expect me to not talk to you after all this happened

Thursday, 11:15pm
Don’t ignore me…please…

Thursday, 11:20pm
Wooyoung-ah…

Friday, 1:03am
I miss you…

-

Thirteen days, six hours and forty-five minutes, Nichkhun hadn’t seen or heard a word from Wooyoung for thirteen days, six hours and forty-five minutes, and with each growing second, he grew more and more depressed, more and more guilty, and more and more lonely.

Everywhere reminded him of Wooyoung.

From the park swings, to the merry-go-around, and to the table he and the younger boy always sat at in the small bakery shop down the street.

Wooyoung.

Everything reminded him of Wooyoung.

From strawberry and vanilla ice-cream to his silent phone that didn’t once show the caller ID of a boy by the certain surname of Jang.

Wooyoung.

Everyone reminded him of Wooyoung.

He saw Wooyoung in every single chestnut brown haired boy, every single dancer, and he heard Wooyoung in every single laugh, and every single “Neh, hyung”

Wooyoung.

Wooyoung.

Wooyoung.

He wasn’t sure if it was the guilt eating him away that created the deep, empty ache in his chest, or was it the simple longing for the boy by the name of Jang Wooyoung.

Without the constant reminders that they were simply ‘best friends’, Nichkhun began to see Wooyoung in a different light, began to feel him in a different pulse of heartbeat, began to miss him in more ways than just ‘friendship’.

Without the ability to dream about his future with art, he began to dream about his future with Wooyoung.

And he finally realized that he missed him, every single piece of him.

And he loved him, every single piece of him.

-

“You idiot.”

“Hyung…? Why are you here?”

“Idiot.”

“Who told you I was here?”

“Why are you so idiotic?”

“Hyung…”

Without offering a reply back, Nichkhun bursted into tears that he had been trying to hold back ever since he heard the news and rushed to the hospital, stepping closer to the hospital bed and wrapping the younger male in a tight embrace.

He wasn’t letting go this time.

-

When he finally heard from Wooyoung again, it was from a nurse in the hospital. Apparently, he was the only one they could get a hold of out of his contact list.

Wooyoung’s parents died in a car crash three years ago. His only sister was living a married life in Germany.

They told him that Wooyoung has been suffering from a heart problem that Nichkhun couldn’t even begin to pronounce, he was hiding the pain the entire time, and he collapsed yesterday during dance practice before a teacher that was passing by saw the limp body on the hardwood ground.

If he was even a few minutes late, Nichkhun wouldn’t be seeing him lying in the hospital bed, but rather, in the hospital’s morgue.

And they told him that the disease could cause very sudden cardiac death.

Nichkhun didn’t hear anything but the word ‘death’.

He never knew what the word fully meant until the reality of it hit him, death was a scary word, he didn’t like it one bit.

-

“Why didn’t you tell me you were hurting?”

“I told you that we shouldn’t see each other until I sorted my feelings out.”

“You idiot. You could’ve died back there.”

“I still like you, so you should leave.”

“Stop changing the subject.”

“You shouldn’t be here.”

“Jesus, Wooyoung! Is that all you can think about with your current condition right now?”

“It’s not like I’m dead.” Wooyoung muttered quietly, averting his glance to the white hospital bed sheet.

“You could be.” Gaze softening and voice dropping back down, as if in defeat, Nichkhun reached out a hand to comb the younger male’s chestnut brown fringe out of his eyes, hand lingering a second longer than it should. “Just let me be by your side, at least for now. Please.”

Wooyoung didn’t agree, nor did he object, he simply closed his eyes and let his focus turn to the gentle hand caressing his hair, humming a quiet “I’m tired” before falling asleep to Nichkhun’s soft touch.

The doctor tells him that not everyone who has this heart disease ends up with death, some recover again as a perfectly healthy individual.

Nichkhun prays that Wooyoung is the latter.

-

“Wooyoung…”

“Hm?”

“Do you still like me?”

The question left his mouth without a second thought, and as Nichkhun looked up from the seat next to the hospital bed, hands holding onto Wooyoung’s, his eyes begged for an answer, knowing fully well that this time, no matter what Wooyoung’s answer is, his response will be different. The doctor told them that they will have to keep the younger boy in the hospital for treatment; it’s been a full week, and Wooyoung looks like nothing but a bag of bones, every trace of chubby cheeks were gone and his skin was slowly paling as each day went by, the only thing that still remained was his dark orbs full of life, he wasn’t ready to give up, at least not yet.

“Do you still like me?” After a moment of silence, Nichkhun decided to ask again, this time, saying it in more of a statement than a question.

“Yeah. I still do.”

“Good.” Without a sign of approval or even a heads up, Nichkhun closed the distance between the two males, cupping his hands on either side of the younger male’s cheek, and tilting his face impossibly closer. He could feel Wooyoung’s warm breath brushing along the surface of his skin, creating goose bumps and fluttering butterflies, and in a moment of breathtaking silence, he parted his lip and captured the other’s plump, pink ones in his. After a few seconds of no response, Nichkhun eventually felt the other’s lips moving in sync with his, it was gentle, soft, but it held all the passion and longing both of them held back. When they eventually let go of each other, only the gasps of breath were heard throughout the silence of the hospital room.

Still holding onto either side of Wooyoung’s face, Nichkhun gave one last small peck on the other’s forehead before tilting the younger male so that their eyes were staring into each other’s, “In case you still didn’t know, I’m sorry for last time.”

“I think you said that already.”

“And I’m going to say it again, and again, and again until you forgive me.”

“I never blamed you in the first place.”

“But I’m still sorry.”

Wooyoung chuckled lightly and flicked the older male on the forehead with a small grin, “Stop making me like you even more.”

“And that’s bad because…?”

“I told you, you’re not allowed to see or talk to me until I sort my feelings out, and since I still like you, and possibly like you even more now, hyung needs to get out.”

Scowling a little playfully, Nichkhun bit back a smile. “So how do I stop making you like me?”

“Hm, I don’t know. You can start by kissing me again.”

“You little…” Clicking his tongue quietly at the other’s mischievous grin, Nichkhun let out a hearty chuckle and leaned in once again.

“Sounds good to me.”

-

Contrary to the doctor’s belief that Wooyoung should be looking better throughout the treatment, he was beginning to look worse by the day. He was having constant unsteady heart rates and it was beyond difficult to even keep his eyes open for longer than a few hours. Both Nichkhun and Wooyoung knew things weren’t taking a turn for the better, and Wooyoung was slowly beginning to give up on this battle.

“Hyung, I’m going to die soon, aren’t I?” One day, Wooyoung asked Nichkhun, his voice raspy and barely there.

“No, you’re not. You’re going to get better. I know you will.”

Shaking his head weakly, Wooyoung offered a tired smile. “It’s okay, hyung, I know. I heard them talking about it yesterday.”

“You’re not going to die, Wooyoung, I promise.”

“Don’t make a promise when it’s not going to come true.”

“Woo, please…”

“Just promise me you won’t cry when I’m gone.”

“, Wooyoung! Stop! You’re not going to die!” Raising his voice in desperation, as if he would believe it himself just because he’s saying it louder, Nichkhun bit back the tears b in the edges of his eye.

“I hate it when you cry. You look ugly as .” Attempting a small laugh to lighten the mood, Wooyoung’s voice shook as a wave of tears pooled out of his own eyes.

Both of them knew that Wooyoung was right, and no matter how much Nichkhun wanted to escape from the cruel reality, it eventually hits them a week later, on a Thursday in May.

-

“It’s raining.” Wooyoung states, as he looks out the window at the rapid taps of rain drops against glass. Somehow, he knows that this is the last rainfall he will ever see.

Following the younger male’s gaze, Nichkhun nods in response, “It is.”

“Hyung, I’m leaving soon.”

“Stop. We’re not talking about this again.”

“Promise me you won’t cry.”

“I can’t promise you that.”

“Promise me, hyung. I never asked for anything from you; just promise me this one thing. Hyung, please.”

Biting down trembling lips, Nichkhun closed his eyes and nodded the slightest bit before croaking out a quiet, “I promise.”

Wooyoung smiled and closed his own eyes. Now that he had the other’s promise, he suddenly felt exhausted, “I’m tired.”

“Go to sleep, Woo.”

“Good night, hyung.”

“Good night.”

The next day, Wooyoung didn’t wake up.

-

On sunny days, Nichkhun hears Wooyoung in the laughter of the two little boys that always plays by the park, he hears him in the rustles of the leaves and in between the silent ‘I love you’s shared by couples. On rainy days, Nichkhun sees Wooyoung in each rain drop that falls from the sky and in each of that one tree he had painted countless years back in the torn up building. But every day, Nichkhun sees Wooyoung in his dreams, and he realizes that his dreams are still very much, alive.