“You don’t seem very nervous.”

“He’s my brother. Why should I be scared of my own brother?”

Kyungsoo and Jongin stand outside of the Do residence five minutes before midnight. They’ve both been standing there in complete silence for about three whole minutes now, plastic bag of ingredients in Jongin’s hand while he rights his baseball cap to a more proper way of wearing it (which definitely isn’t backwards, like how he has it on right now). Despite Kyungsoo’s claim, it’s quite obvious that both of them are nervous.

“Aren’t..we..going in?” The taller of them finally asks, eyes focused on the wooden door in front which hides either a monster or an Angel of a big brother. He is yet to tell.

“It’s not yet midnight.”

“It’s two minutes to midnight wouldn’t that do?”

“Nope. When he says midnight he means midnight and he won’t be opening it for 11:59pm if he had to”

“Oh.”

Kyungsoo turns to face Jongin with an apologetic smile and it eases the tanned boy’s nerves a bit, causing him to give in to the urge of lightly poking those chubby rosy cheeks. They laugh a bit and just about then the clock strikes twelve. Kyungsoo lifts his hand, ready to knock on the wooden door which to his surprise opens promptly before he could even do so. Right on cue Jongin puts on his ever perfect smile and proudly displays his Manchester United shirt as they both come face to face with a much-too-awake-for-midnight looking Seungsoo.

“Dark kid.” The eldest greets. Jongin is careful not to react, merely smiling wider and waving rather awkwardly. “Glad you could make it. Nice shirt by the way.”

It’s all he says before he proceeds to take the plastic bag of ingredients away from Jongin’s hand and make his jolly way back into the warmth of their home, whistling all the while. Kyungsoo throws Jongin a look that reads I told you so before following his brother inside, stopping midway to swiftly walk back and take the tanned boy’s hand in his, shyly leading him into their residence.

The house starts out with a narrow hallway complete with shiny wooden floors and walls filled with framed photographs. Jongin’s heart is slightly moved with sadness as he skims his eyes over each, noticing how they start out with baby pictures of both Kyungsoo and Seungsoo with their parents, in a playground, at the beach, or even in this very hallway. Bonding time must have been something of a big deal to Mr. And Mrs. Do, because for the short years they’ve had as a whole they’ve managed to collect plenty of memories.

The last photograph of them as a family was one taken during Christmas it seems, judging by the blurred colorful lights in the background and the worn out Santa hat over Kyungsoo's head. It was a candid take, where Kyungsoo was crying over a gift Seungsoo must have grabbed from him forcefully (based on his mischievous facial expression. Poor Baby Kyungsoo, jongin mentally coos), neither of them aware of their parent’s gazes from where they sat on the sofa. It was one filled with so much love and adoration that it must have probably been the most painful picture to look at, knowing that the loving eyes that used to always watch over them were now cold and dead.

Jongin notes the significant change in the pictures that come after. They somehow shift from captured memories to...to simple records. Records of their lives, of all their firsts and lasts and of all the conventional occassions that people are somehow oblidged to take pictures of: first day of school, soccer matches, graduations. They grew weary through the years, their deep longin for mommy's embrace and daddy's pat evident in their lopsided smiles and in the empty spaces of what should be a family photo.

As soon as he comes to the end of the hall his gaze is drawn to the smaller boy currently busying  himself in the kitchen, and for a moment, just a split second, his heart swelled with pride.

I made you smile again.

“Hey Dark Kid you could take a trip down memory lane some other time, come over here and help me poisson your food.”

Jongin is driven out of his own thoughts by Seungsoo's teasing voice. The guy didn't smile much, he was a lot like Kyungsoo, but at the same time a lot different. There was something solid about him, something rectangular and unsentimental. Kyungsoo was rounder on the edges, softer, warmer. 

He immediately scurries to their side, taking the knife from Kyungsoo’s hold and wordlessly taking over the task of chopping various ingredients. It earns him a rather sly smile from the smaller boy who moves to boil some water instead.

Within the span of a few minutes the kitchen turns from the nice, quiet, and peaceful working space of the Do siblings into the experimental laboratory of a disastrous Kim Jongin. Well, no one really bothered to ask if he was actually any good in cooking, so it’s not his fault right?

It’s not his fault he accidentally cuts his finger while chopping vegetables or accidentally drops the bowl of radish on the floor or accidentally bumps into either of the two brothers every now and then or accidentally overcooks the noodles or accidentally- you get the picture, right? So he’s a little clumsy on the stove and a little clueless with utensils, so he just doesn’t belong in a kitchen, it doesn’t really mean he’s the worst possible-brother-in-law-candidate there is. He has his strengths, he could slice open cadavers way better than he could slice open fish that’s one. This doesn’t completely put him at the bottom of the pit…right? 

He hopes so. Because now he’s forbidden anywhere near the kitchen, Seungsoo having reached the last straw when he accidentally spilled some of the boiling hot water onto Kyungsoo’s hand, a string of apologies escaping his lips as the eldest of them dragged him by the elbow towards the door frame where he gave strict instructions not to move. Now Jongin stands awkwardly in place as he watches the two finish what they started, feeling very much like a kid.

He would stare at Kyungsoo’s hand occasionally, it was redder than usual and he couldn’t help but feel heaps of guilt crush him inside, and the smaller boy could tell especially by the way his lower lip stuck out in a pout. Kyungsoo would sometimes pass by his spot and smile at him telling him it’s okay and that he isn’t hurt. He assures him that Seungsoo isn’t mad either, because his brother is a very vocal person and if he had been mad he was pretty sure he’d be shouting his ears off by now.

But most of the time he just passes by to steal a kiss, which instantly has Jongin feeling much better about himself (and has Seungsoo wretching dramatically).

The longest 20 minutes of his life pass and Jongin perks up when one of the two tell him that they’re nearly finished. He asks if there’s any matter he could help with, any matter which didn’t involve being inside the kitchen. “Set the table?” Seungsoo calls out laughing, and gullible as he is Jongin was about to do just that, if It weren’t for Kyungsoo’s hand on his elbow.

“Don’t” The smaller says, he just turns to him confused. “He’s joking. We haven’t eaten on the table since last New Year.”

“What? Well then where do you eat?”

 “Anywhere really.” Kyungsoo picks up a plate of strange looking spaghetti and walks out of the kitchen, past jongin, past the dinning table, and into the living room to set it down onto the carpeted floor. “Anywhere with a TV in Hyung’s case.”

“Hands up!” Jongin snaps his head towards Seungsoo’s direction to find a bag of nachos flying his way. Luckily he stretches his arms out just in time to catch it, a bit startled. The eldest walks past him. “Come on, why not let the TV do the talking? I mean I wouldn’t want to pick between eating in awkward silence or talking with your mouth full.” He justifies. Kyungsoo rolls his eyes. Jongin just stares at them both like they've got a third arm.

“...it doesn't bother you right? I mean- You don't have a problem with eating on places thats not a table...right?” Kyungsoo asks self-consciously when the tanned boy makes no move to sit where they were.

“No. No of course not it's just...”

It's just that dinner at midnight in front of the TV is the coolest ever, can I borrow your brother?

“...so new...”

“You could eat while standing up too if you want something newer.” Seungsoo says. Jongin adds 'snarky' to his mental bio of the elder and takes a seat squeezed beside Kyungsoo, who hands him a plate of that weird looking pasta.

“Kimchi spaghetti.” Kyungsoo says, sensing Jongin's confusion. “I like experimenting. This turned out the best so far.”

“Like in your mouth.” Seungsoo adds, mouth already full with the said concoction.

Jongin carefully takes the fork and eats some himself, chewing it slowly, as though figuring out what to think of the taste. Kyungsoo looks at him expectantly, looking one-fourth proud and three-fourths worried. Liking the smaller's attention, Jongin takes his time to savour every bite, breaking into a grin when Kyungsoo spits out an impatient Well???

“Like in your mouth.”

“God,” Kyungsoo retorts, standing up to switch the TV on “go date my brother”. His back is turned to them but Jongin could practically hear him grinning.

The tanned boy isn’t really sure how to respond to that. Saying ‘I’ll pass, no way, I prefer you’ would come out rather offensive so he settles for laughing nervously and awkwardly side eyeing Seungsoo. The eldest eyes him back, one eyebrow arched judgingly.

Nobody even has to touch the remote to get to the sports channel because it's always the first and last channel they tune into. It’s mostly Seungsoo who’s responsible for this obsession, Kyungsoo being satisfied with the brief channel switches his older brother allows him every now and then (he prefers documentaries or cooking shows. Or the news.). A soccer match is currently airing.

“Kyungsoo.” Seungsoo says, after a long while of stuffing his mouth “I think he’s thinking about it.”

“Thinking about what?”

“Dating me.”

Jongin chokes on his own saliva.

“I mean silence means yes right?”

"T-that’s not- I just didn’t want-“ 

“Listen dark kid you’re nice and all but I’m as straight as your when you watch ”

“I don’t-   “

“Hush now it’s alright I know everyone falls for me.”

Kyungsoo takes his place beside Jongin again and he's met by pleading eyes and silent whimpers. He throws an amused expression at him, obviously trying to surpass a laugh, before pushing his brother’s cheek lightly so that he now faces the TV. “Please don’t traumatize him.”

“Taking sides now aye?”

“I’m not on anybody’s side you’re both morons.”

“Excuse you.” Seungsoo tries to turn his face towards his brother however Kyungsoo’s hand is still against him so he ends up with a squished left cheek “I don’t bake pink cakes for a living.”

“Watch. It’s a Manchester replay.”

“Really?”

Seungsoo’s eyes instantly dart to the television. Kyungsoo shakes his head, “works all the time” he mumbles to Jongin.

After that Seungsoo’s pretty much fallen into his own world where the moon was a soccer ball and the house was a soccer arena. And where his mouth was shut, which saves Jongin a few minutes free of interrogation and sarcasm.

The soccer match on screen goes on as a blur to the tanned boy, he’s never really been a big sport geek like Kyungsoo’s brother. He’s interested in it enough to watch anticipated games or intense face offs but never really so much as to watch replays of it. Already knowing what would happen next and who would win somehow kills the thrill for him, which is probably why his eyes chose to wander their way to Kyungsoo’s small and fragile figure sitting beside him instead.

The glow and the flicker of the tv light against his side profile is enchanting to Jongin. Every curve of his face, every eyelash, every strand of hair and even that one mole he could see peeking from the boy’s nape, all of them seem so much more interesting to him than some soccer match replay. The longer he stares, the longer he’s driven insane. Insane because he couldn’t stop himself from gently nuzzling Kyungsoo’s temple, he couldn’t stop himself from closing his eyes, inhaling the smaller boy’s scent and loving it. Loving every inch of Kyungsoo, from his blushing cheeks to his soft whispered voice. “that tickles.” He says, and his voice, his voice.

Jongin is at the edge, he could barely keep himself from falling off into an abyss of insanity, insanity for Kyungsoo. Everything Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo’s strange habits. Kyungsoo’s passion for baking. Kyungsoo’s kindness. Kyungsoo’s smile. Kyungsoo.

He’s on the edge. But you know what he does? He jumps right off, right into the sea of feelings.

“Kyungsoo,” He whispers against the other’s ear, eyes shut closed, voice barely audible.

"I think I’m falling in love with you.”

Seungsoo quietly rises from his seat to bring his empty plate to the kitchen. When his back is turned to them, he smiles knowingly to himself.

Seungsoo’s never walked out on a soccer match before. Never.

***

“Luahn Hyung, What are we?”

Its quiet. Too quiet. Sehun stares at a painting, at the still colors that dance, and curve, and blend, and fade. His hands are in his pockets, his face rid of emotions. The lengthy silence is soon interrupted by someone's gurgle. Luhan's gurgle.

"We're drunk. That's what.”

The older is what he says he is, drunk. It's made obvious by the way he staggers a bit off balance from time to time and by the way his eyes blink slow and droopy. He's also staring at the painting, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion, thinking that's a funny painting.

“You mean you're drunk.”

 “Am not.”

“What are we looking at.”

“I think...It's the mona lisa. She probably shaved her head. And she's on period.”

Sehun sighs audibly, his eyes falling closed and his head hanging low. In front of him the painting's label reads 'two halves make a whole by Claire Wright'.

They were at an art gallery. It was around 5 hours or so after their shift had ended and around 2 after Luhan had managed to drag Sehun straight into a nearby bar. He's always been the wild one among the three of them, Kyungsoo's always been the one to kick some sense into him, Sehun's...Sehunn's the one who watches. Sehun's the one who loves them both just the way they are. That's his job.

He's loved Luhan a little more differently though.

When they had rushed into the room full of strobe lights, low beats and sweaty people a while ago, The older boy had let go of his hand rather abruptly. Sehun immediately missed the warmth but when he turned to see what the problem was, his expression grew dark. Luhan's eyes kept flickering self-consciously towards a man standing by the speakers. He was tall and handsome with a model like phisique Sehun couldn't possibly compete with. He wasn't at all unfamiliar to the youngest, in fact, his face was probably etched into his mind, scarred where he didn't want it. He remembered those times he'd caught Luhan adoring that face, smiling at those eyes and feeding those lips, so vividly he could have painted a picture of it if he had to.

"Let’s go someplace else.” Luhan had said then, through a strained smile. Sehun tried not to side eye the man at the speakers for the sake of keeping a secret secret.

“Okay.” He responded. And just like that they were back out on the streets.     

That’s the thing about Sehun that Luhan loved. He never argued, especially not with him. Of course, they teased each other often but it never grew into something serious. It was usually just straight out ‘Okay’, and if he disagrees then it’s a simple ‘No’. No beating around the bush, no shimy shamy, just an answer, a period, and a stoic face.

 With the significant change of events, their supposed night of clubbing turned into a night of ddeokkboki and soju from some random street vendor out in the cold. Sehun made sure he kept himself sober because knowing Luhan, he wouldn’t hold back on the alcohol, and the younger knew that someone was going to need think straight for them both.

A few hours into the night Luhan was already beginning to stack up and gather empty bottles of soju one after the other, a signal for Sehun to conclude that the guy was already completely drunk (If you could recall what type of drunk Luhan is from the Christmas eve party then pat yourself on the back). Of the many times he’s taken care of his hyung in this sort of state he knew that the only place that would calm him down and get him in some sort of zen mode was the art gallery down the street. So Sehun stood up, counted the empty bottles and paid their due fees before hauling Luhan and walking the both of them down the empty road, almost in perfect zigzags.

Which leads us back to where we started. Sehun staring at the so called mona lisa beside Luhan, who already seemed to be sobering up just by the sight of all these works of art. Luhan’s always had an artsy side to him, Sehun’s known since the day he first came to the elder’s room, one which was filled with bizarre plants and strange abstract paintings or figures. It felt like living in a temple. He figured Luhan’s fancy for art was due to the fact that the boy’s mother is a painter, a really good one at that. Watching his mother all throughout his childhood meant he must have known the meaning behind all the brush and color choices of illustrations Sehun will maybe never understand. Art, you could say, was something like Luhan’s own personal therapy.

This particular gallery was different from the rest however. The artist had worked with Luhan’s mother in the past which is why he’s always welcome into the place, no matter what hour of the day. Sehun quite likes the pieces here himself, all neon colors and brush splatters and bizarre depictions of people, even the floors and walls are a shade of dark purple where creepy looking foot and hand prints glowed. He guesses it’s the kind of art pieces more into his generation. He’s never really found interest in those typical museums with white washed walls and paintings like the actual mona lisa.

But he’s pretended to find interest in them. For Luhan.

He wonders if the guy at the club pretends to be interested too.

“Sehun-ah.” Luhan begins, his voice is now softer and less….drunk-sounding. Sehun remains silent.

“Do I…do I lack something?”

“Lack what hyung.”

“I don’t know…something…”

“That’s not very specific.”

“You get what I mean.”

“I think everybody lacks something.”

Luhan looks down at his hands, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. “Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Would you like someone who’s lacking?”

“Of course.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s lacking.”

Luhan chuckles at the younger who refuses to break a smile “You gotta up your standards a bit.”

“My standards are just fine.”

Luhan’s laugh dies down to a somewhat sad looking smile, his eyes trail back to the painting they’ve been staring at (but not paying attention to) and he realizes that no its not the damn mona lisa but it’s actually a picture of half a woman and half a man put together to form a whole. For now this is his favourite piece, he thinks. He imagines splitting himself in half just like the woman and finding the perfect man to complete him. He imagines the boy from the club a while ago, split in half as well, the both of them trying and forcing themselves to be each other’s half until they realize that they’re both the same side of a split.

The silence breaks when Sehun heaves a sigh, and it’s a simple act that makes Luhan’s eyes glisten with tears. 

“Sehun-ah.” When his voice croaks the younger’s gaze immediately turns to him with worry. Luhan is crying.

“I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry.” His eyes are streaming with tears and his voice is barely audible behind all those hiccups and staggered breaths. Sehun continues staring at him as though he were expecting it all to flow out then and there. He expects to hear all the things he needs to hear at this moment and time because it seemed like the perfect atmosphere to break down, forgive and set things straight.

But Luhan just cries nonstop with a string of sorry-s escaping his lips and Sehun thinks this hurts way more than hearing the truth.

He reaches out to pull the other into a gentle embrace, feeling his shirt get soaked in tears and his heart melt with each drop.

I’m sorry Luhan says, over and over again, but the thing is Sehun doesn’t need his apologies, he needs to hear a because or a Let me explain. It’s not that he didn’t already know the answers , he just needed to hear it from someone else’s voice other than his own.  

That doesn’t happen though.

They continue to stand in the middle of the empty gallery, Luhan’s sobs echoing in the silence, muffled against Sehun’s shirt. His own eyes begin to sting as tears threaten to fall but he just holds the older boy close, as though he could make Luhan his just by doing so.

***

“Do you want me to come with you? The train station is still closed.”

 "Nah, I’ll take a cab. Who knows I might just bump into another cute small guy with adorably large eyes.”

“Shall I take offense in that?”

“It’s more of a subtle compliment.”

They’re both standing on the front porch, Kyungsoo a step higher than Jongin so that their eyes meet at just the right level. The tanned boy has his backpack slung hastily over his shoulder with his skateboard strapped onto its side. It was around 3:30 in the morning when they had all decided to call it a night, or at least when Kyungsoo and Jongin had decided to call it a night. Seungsoo was too busy snoring on the couch to actually participate in any sort of conversation that went on from 2:15 am onwards.

After Jongin’s little confession earlier that night Kyungsoo went from being awkward to being extra awkward in a matter of seconds, blushing, bumping into things, stuttering, and trying too hard to avoid the other’s gaze (and failing). He hadn’t exactly said ‘I love you’ back that time, but he hadn’t said anything to reject the tanned boy’s confession either, and Jongin decides that its an acceptable response to settle with for now. He knows Kyungsoo isn’t the most open book out there and it’d probably take more than a few weeks or months of dating to earn his complete trust, to get him to completely unravel. So Jongin decides that the absence of a response is actually his very first step to getting one.

Now, standing in front of him wearing nothing but a thin jacket to protect him from the cold, Kyungsoo seems to have given in to his desire to just stare at his lover, taking in the sight of his gentle smile, his crooked nose and his squinted eyes. Both oblivious to the fact that they’ve been standing in silence for a full minute now, they simply continue to get lost in each other’s gazes not wanting to part for the night, or maybe even not wanting to part ever. 

“You gotta tell your brother I think he’s the coolest person ever.”

Kyungsoo chuckles softly “He tells himself that every day I really don’t need to.”

“Think he liked me?”

"He likes anyone I like. And even if he doesn’t, he’d pretend to, then eventually he will. For me.”

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

The shuffling of Jongin’s shoes against the cemented pathway of Kyungsoo’s home is the only sound that breaks the silence of the night. Before he’s able to turn around and walk away, Kyungsoo shyly takes a step forward and leans his forehead against Jongin’s.

“Goodnight.” He mumbles softly, the act so shy yet brave it stirs up multiple emotions in Jongin at once, causing him to close his eyes and grin widely. “Night.” He responds, then slowly he moves in for a kiss.

Which never happens because suddenly a third voice interrupts their moment and they both turn to find a sleepy Seungsoo standing by the doorway, arms crossed, hair dishevelled, shirt rumpled, with an expression that’s a mixture of disgust and confusion. The kind of confusion that happens post-sleep where you suddenly can’t remember what year it is.

“This is so weird. I feel like it was just yesterday when I tried talking you into …well talking.”

Kyungsoo blushes and coughs rather exaggeratedly, Jongin tries not to laugh.

“And now you’re not just talking you’re-“ Seungsoo sticks his tongue out and does a poor imitation of someone making out.

Kyungsoo turns towards Jongin with a look of helplessness and the tanned boy could only nod in understanding. “Please go home before he further embarrasses me.” The smaller pleads which prompts Jongin to take careful steps backwards.

“Goodnight Seungsoo hyung.” He laughs out waving one hand in the air. Once Seungsoo returns the gesture, he spins around, jogs down the sidewalk and after a few glances back, disappears around the curb.

“I like ‘em.” Seungsoo says matter-of-factly. Kyungsoo looks at him with his head slightly tilted. “Really?”

“Yeah. Don’t you?”

“Of course, I like him.”

“He passed all my tests.”

“Tests?”

“Well…” Kyungsoo’s eyes trail after his brother who now jogs down the path to retrieve the stack of mail popping out from their worn out mailbox “…He wore Manchester united and that’s like, one million points head start for me” The smaller boy mentally pumps his fist in the air in victory “He helped out in the kitchen, sans the fact that he was a walking disaster, the effort was there. At least I know he’s not some couch potato who would let you do all the work.” Seungsoo begins walking back up the path, scanning through the envelopes of random ads and notices “He said nothing about mom and dad which is nice because I don’t like people who keep pestering us about the past. He was touchy with you in front of me, which I’m pretty okay with because although it’s gross it was kind of bold of him. Hmm what else…He complimented your cooking!” Kyungsoo flinches a bit when he points one of the envelopes towards him “That’s like a must, because anyone who doesn’t is probably mental. He didn’t mind silence, none of those annoying small talks some people constantly try to initiate, and that’s kind of important when dating someone like you…no offense. Lastly…”

Seungsoo halts. Suddenly his eyes lock with Kyungsoo’s and his lips curve up in a small, sad looking smile. There’s something about his expression that the younger could not seem to read. He blinks up at him curiously but Seungsoo only manages a low chuckle before heading towards the door and opening it wide, inviting him inside. “Come on it’s freezing. Time for bed bug eyes.”

“You haven’t told me the last thing…”

“That’s for me to know and you to find out now come inside you’re not even wearing any shoes.”

“Fine.” Kyungsoo shuffles past him into the warmth of their residence ”Can I sleep in your room? My heater won’t work.”

"Mm. Be up in a sec.” Seungsoo absentmindedly nods as he reads through the remaining letters in his hand, listening to Kyungsoo’s footsteps padding up the stairs and his voice shouting back a ‘thanks!’ Closing the door behind him and stifling a yawn he makes his way upstairs as well, but stops the second he comes across the last letter in the bunch. He stares hard and long at it and after a good minute or two of making sure he wasn’t misreading the name scribbled across; he tears it open, panicked.

The more he reads, the more his eyebrows furrow in worry. Instinctively his eyes turn towards the 2nd floor landing and as if on cue, Kyungsoo pops into view, a towel over his head and a toothbrush stuck into his mouth. He closes the letter.

 “g’night.” He gurgles. Seungsoo blinks a few times before smiling at his younger brother rather tensely. “Night.”

With that, Kyungsoo shuffles sleepily into the other’s bedroom, ready to retire for the night. Seungsoo lets a long, extended sigh escape his lips.

Crap.

***

Jongin’s dorm isn’t a very fancy one.

It’s small and simple with nothing but a bed, a desk, and a closet as furniture. He’s adorned the walls with a few posters of indie bands and dance events slash competitions he’s attended in the past (As a med student he’s really glad he’s found a hobby like dancing, it’s a great escape from all the stress brought about by thick books and long exams). His desk is a neat one, with notebooks stacked at one side and a variety of pens and pencils placed in a mug by the corner. There’s a bunch of flashcards stuck onto the wall parallel to his desk as well as a giant diagram of the human body’s anatomy with random words scattered across it in black marker and messy handwriting. It’s a typical college student’s room, the unmade bed and medical diagrams are all part of what he expects to come home to every other day.

What he doesn’t expect to come home to though, is the sight of Krystal pacing back and forth in front of his dorm room, looking troubled and restless in nothing but her sweats and hoodie. She looks as though she had rushed out of her place from the girls dorm in a hurry, judging by the way her normally neatly tied hair is now a hot mess of red tangles pooling over her shoulders, not to mention the sneakers she wore which weren’t even a matching pair. Jongin stops dead on his tracks upon the sight and despite having been in cloud 9 the entire ride home, thoughts of Kyungsoo suddenly fly to the back of his mind.

He runs up to Krystal who slightly jolts back in startle when he reaches his hand out to her.

“Krys? It’s too early what are you-”

Without warning, the red head steps forward and envelops Jongin in a tight hug, burying her face against his chest. Jongin could only blink in confusion, his hands hesitantly wrapping around her small frame. “What’s wrong? Are you okay? Did you get hurt?” He asks, worry evident in his tone as he tries to pry her away to get a glimpse of her expression.

"You have to listen to me.” She mumbles against his chest. Jongin doesn’t catch it though, so she abruptly lets go of him and steps back, gaze serious and sharp. “You have to listen to me.” She repeats. Jongin looks at her curiously then proceeds to check the hallway for any signs of people. There was no one around at this hour of the morning but just to be sure he moves to unlock his door and usher Krystal inside for a more private setting. He doesn’t have a very good feeling about where this conversation is about to go.

 Once he closes the door behind him and drops his keys on the desk, Krystal surprises him with the words that impulsively spill out of .

“Kyungsoo can wake the dead.”

Silence.

There’s nothing but silence. And a whole lot of staring.

Jongin raises his eyebrow and blinks a few more times than necessary. He eyes Krystal’s hands and makes sure she isn’t inhaling anything harmful or maybe drinking some alcohol at this hour because what in the world is she saying. He could almost hear the tick tock of his clock sounding a lot louder in the current quiet that went on. Neither of them speak and Jongin just waits for the pun to come in, the Just kidding! Or the April fools! Except it wasn’t April, and Krystal didn’t seem like she was kidding either. In the end it was he who gave in first, letting out a chuckle which turns into a guffaw in a span of minutes.

“K-krystal…You- are you- are you sleepwalking or something? D-did you play too much video g-games with Minseokie?” Jongin keeps laughing, clutching his stomach and bending forward in an effort to stop. Krystal on the other hand, remains dead serious.

"Kyungsoo. Can. Wake. The. Dead.” She repeats, this time she says it behind gritted teeth, her hands clenching into fists.

Jongin’s laugh dies down into an awkward chuckle when he sees that Krystal is actually serious about this. He straightens up again and his expression turns doubtful, “I…I don’t follow.”

“Kyungsoo, he has some freaky power where he touches something and it- it just-“

"Wait wait” Jongin’s smile slowly wipes off his face completely now, “You’re serious.”

“Yes!” Krystal shouts, frustrated. She begins pacing back and forth again, the words rushing out of due to her growing panic “I’m ing serious earlier today I swear to god it’s him I saw, I swear I saw him in that body farm he touched that body and it just died again but it was moving Jongin moving!”

“I was with him in that body farm Krystal nothing was moving.”

“It was for a second or two Jongin you could have missed it for picking something up for god’s sake!”

“Krystal, please. Calm down. You’re sounding extremely ridiculous right now.”

“You have to believe me!” Krystal walks up to where Jongin stands and takes his hand in hers, she holds it in a vice like grip and looks directly up at him. “I’m not lying. Jongin, Jongin look at me I wouldn’t lie to you. You believe me right? Hm? Tell me you believe me.”

Jongin stares back at her confused and unsure. He searches her eyes and sees nothing but desperation and for a minute he nearly gives in because he’s never seen her beg like this before. Not in any of the long years they’ve been friends. But the image of Kyungsoo flashes in his mind and it suddenly seems far from possible. Sweet, innocent, introvert Kyungsoo…it’s just plain impossible. Impossible for Kyungsoo, impossible for anyone. “Alright.” He says cautiously, “Let me hear your story.”

“I was walking down the hallway.” She says, not letting go of his hand. “I was…I was walking down the hallway and then I overheard from a group of male students that…that someone was in the body farm. I went there and…and the first thing I saw was one of the bodies. It was sitting up jongin, and Kyungsoo was there in front of it. He reached out to it once and then it fell back. Dead again. I ran away because I just couldn’t comprehend what I saw and- and I guess I needed to tell someone. You were the first person in my mind.”

"So you’re saying…” Jongin pinches his nosebridge and closes his eyes, “That Kyungsoo brought the body back to life.”

“Yes.”

“Krystal…”              

“He’s a freak Jongin god please don’t go near him anymore what if he touches you and you suddenly lose consciousness or worse turn into something mutated ohmygod I’ve touched him before what if this thing has a long time effect what if I’m also slowly going to lose it-“

“Stop.”

There’s a certain fierceness to the tanned boy’s tone that makes Krystal jump slightly. She turns wide eyes towards him and surprisingly this is the first time ever in her life that he looks at her that way. And by that way, I mean ticked off and disappointed.

“Krystal, you’re not jealous are you?”

“What?” She whispers, face contorting in disbelief.

“I won’t let you talk about Kyungsoo that way.”

“Oh. My. God.” She throws her hands in the air and spins around. “You don’t believe me.”

“I’d like to believe you Krys. I really do, but I can’t. Not when you talk about him that way. And have you listened to yourself? That’s nonsense Krys. Nobody could do that.”

“JONGIN!!” She nearly screams, “I’m your bestfriend!! You should believe in me!! Not some you met at a trainstation-“

“Krystal, stop.”

“-who his way up to you and just acts all ing innocent all the time-“

“KRYSTAL. STOP.”

“-Who’s a FREAK! A FREAK JONGIN. AND IM SO SCARED THAT DAMN BOY WILL TAKE MY BESTFRIEND AWAY FROM ME. I HATE HIM! I HATE HIM I HATE HIM I“

“WELL MAYBE WE SHOULDN’T BE BESTFRIENDS ANYMORE!”

The red head stops. The atmosphere is tense as they both fall into silence, Krystal’s words hanging in the air as a result of all her pent up frustrations being released. Jongin winces at the harshness of his own words but he does nothing to take it back. Both their eyes begin to water but it’s only Krystal who lets the tears flow. “You don’t mean that.” She says in a hushed, croaked out whisper.

“I wish I don’t Krys. But this is too much…this is too much. You can’t just make up stories like that to get me to hate him.”

“I’m not making up stories.”

“Even if it were all true, you crossed the line. I don’t understand why you have to call him all those names…he’s been so nice to you Krys...”

“You’re really just going to push me away.”

Jongin’s expression soften as he watches her cheeks get stained with tear after tear after tear. “Please just apologize for what you said and let’s forget about this, Krys.”

Krystal beings crying even more, her chest rising and falling with each hiccup and breath, her face becoming wet with tears. Soon enough she’s wailing like a little kid, like that little girl Jongin used to protect from bullies back in elementary school.

“Jongin.” She gasps in between staggered breaths “Jongin, I’m in love with you.”

The tanned boy freezes. He blinks once, bewildered. He opens his mouth to respond but finds himself speechless, so he closes it again, unsure of what to do or say next.

"I’m so in love with you, I’ve always been in love with you, and I hate Kyungsoo because he’s in love with you too. And I hate Kyungsoo because he’s so weird and bizarre and yet you still love him and not me, despite many men telling me I’m everyone’s dream girl. I worked so hard to be your dream girl and yet, and yet, and yet you choose Kyungsoo. At first I thought he was nice, I thought I could tell him my secret but now…now he’s made everything into a game and I lost. It’s not fair. I had you first. Its not fair.”

For the nth time that night the room falls silent, Krystal’s sniffles and sobs the only sound they could hear. Through Jongin’s blinds, rays of light begin to appear and soon the room is covered in the dim blue glow of dawn. Krystal sighs, the chirping sounds of birds outside replacing her muffled sobs.  She then wipes her eyes and straightens her stance. Jongin slowly walks past her and sits on his bed, leaning forward to cradle his head in his hands and think about what to say. “You’ll always be my bestfriend Krys.” Was all he could come up with in the end.

“Do you believe me Jongin?” She asks for the last time. Jongin remains silent in his seat and the red haired girl takes that as a resounding No, and as a dart directly to the centre of her heart.

“Okay.” Is all she says, before she’s out the door, and the tanned boy is left alone in his room to wonder why such a good day had to take a complete turn for the worst.

A/N: guys im dead. i need kyungsoo to revive me rn bec im dead. o-)------( blame college reports. Anyway, drama. Yeah drama starts. Sorry if the scene with krystal is ...idk it feels rushed to me so /shrugs/ im trYING. plus did i get any details wrong again? I mean it's been long since i last posted and I sometimes have this tendency to forget minor details which result to the story changing a bit, the characters personalities changing, some mini errors. Let me know~ Yeah so have a nice day guys. o/ <3 Much looove! 

Nope there's not such thing as a claire wright or a painting called two halves make a whole. don't google it man