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Luhan and Sehun are not childhood friends, none of those sorts. They are lovers, who encountered each other through a party about civil rights and freedom of speech.

Luhan is the dependent one, in constant need of reminder that he is loved, in constant need of reminder that he should feel happy about himself, in constant need of reminder about a million other things.

Sehun's been through , so he knows what to do. He's a wall, who crumbles slowly, but manages to stay erect and functional.

They are a duo bonded by love and experience, by need and knowledge, and the desire to keep each other on track.

Yet while Luhan is a receptionist at their business company, Sehun is a skilled business associate, always having to go to meet up with other associates—despite Luhan's pleas to stay and not to go.

Sehun leaves on trips for a few days—a week at most—but Luhan's grown too attached, almost addicted, and well...Sehun's too busy to call or talk.

Luhan, the introvert, is alone. So he writes letters, piles of them hidden under the files in the drawer of the nightstand.

Sehun, I feel awful.

On nights where Sehun is away and he feels insecure, frightened, and upset, Luhan curls up in the silk sheets and cries until his eyes are red and swollen.

Luhan, unlike other boys, is thin. And he strives to be thinner.

Sehun is the anchor that tells him to stay, but Luhan is the ship that yearns for more.

A ship without an anchor cannot stop, and will crash or wreck.

Hence why, when Sehun is not home, Luhan stops eating completely and starves himself.

Pro-Ana, he tells Sehun, who then argues it's something that he shouldn't be proud of.

Pro-Mia?, he reasons, and Sehun flairs his nostrils, before calming down and taking care of broken Luhan.

When he does eat, it's something light, like ten-calorie-sugar-free-jello.

He'll then kneel on the ground in the bathroom, lean over the toilet, and shove two fingers down his throat. He'll press down, tilt his neck forward, and clean his systems until nothing is left.

Sometimes, Sehun does not ask. He does not admit to anything.

Sehun, I'm drowning.

Lately, Luhan's been plagued with thoughts of suicide and scenarios of him dying.

Sehun, I'm scared.

He can count the number of rib bones he has, and trace them like a stencil.

Sehun, I think I'm getting worse.

Sehun is gone for a week, out of state, and promises to call when he can.

“Okay.” Luhan chokes out, bidding goodbye at the airport.

Sehun, come back home. please.

Luhan feels hollow.

Sehun, tell me what it feels like to be happy.

He wants to swallow a bottleful of sleeping pills, tape his nostrils and mouth, and slit his throat.

Sehun, I'm all alone.

Luhan doesn't want to tell his coworkers because it's bothersome.

He has no friends because he's an introvert, who's too shy to say “hi”.

He has nonexistent parents who would shove him to a therapist instead of listening.

No siblings, no distant relatives.

Luhan is one, sad soul.

Sehun, please save me.

“Luhan?”

“H-Hi.”

“Have you been crying?”

“I—Maybe. I miss you.”

“I miss you too, baby boy. I just arrived at my hotel. I wish you could've been here at Jeju with me; it's beautiful.”

“I wish I could be with you, too.”

“You sound tired.”

“You, too.”

“Go sleep. I'll go sleep, and I'll call you again in the morning before I go work.”

“Okay. Night. I love you.”

“I love you too, Luhan. Night.”

Sehun, I'm breaking apart.

What's nice about Sehun is that he's completely faithful. All his coworkers are astonished at how long they've been together for, and how Sehun always declines parties and dinners and things, saying he has to return home as soon as possible (they had the same coworkers).

Luhan's grateful for that, he's grateful for the youthful high school love that still blooms up to this day. Four years of pure care and affection, four years of happiness and bliss.

Luhan's happy. But not that much.

Blissful, but not that much.

He's being tortured by time.

Sehun, I can't stop those inner voices.

Luhan's not himself when Sehun's home.

It's a bad thing too, because now, he's standing in front of their vanity mirror, , with a knife pressed against his stomach.

There's no cut, no blood, but Luhan's inner voices are pressuring to slice off that lump in his stomach, gorge his insides and just make him hollow, nothing but a skeleton.

The blade is pressed against his stomach and Luhan's hand is shaking, the movement causing a thin line of red to form.

The door to their house is opened, and Luhan can hear Sehun's voice calling out for him.

He drops the knife, scrambles up and quickly pulls shirts over his head and, his pants on, and digs his nails into his palm.

But it won't stop his trembling, it won't stop the voices that scream to cut, it won't stop the bleeding on his skin, it just won't stop.

Luhan falls down sobbing the moment their bedroom door flies open, revealing Sehun with a horrified gaze.

“Luhan?”

Sehun, I think I'm caving in.

Sehun sets up a schedule that allows him to stay home more often, but it causes him to work longer. He assured Luhan that the workload isn't that bad and that he benefits, seeing Luhan's face everyday.

Luhan's happy too. But not that happy.

He's going to gain weight, Sehun's going to yell.

Sehun's going to pressure him to eat, he's going to take a spoon and shove it down his throat, Sehun's going to tell him again and again a and that he has to eat, to gain weight, to look healthy and beautiful.

And those voices are going to pressure him to starve, they're going to tell him to throw it all up and cut off that fat, those voices are going to tell him again and again that he has to starve, to lose weight, to look skinny and beautiful.

Luhan's terrified, being pulled back and forth.

Sehun, make them stop, please, please make them stop.

There's been rumors that Sehun's been getting rather close with a man named Jongin. The name makes Luhan shake, since Jongin was Sehun's first boyfriend as well as first breakup.

Jongin wanted to major in dancing, so why was he here, in the company?

Maybe that's why Sehun was gone so often. Maybe that's why Sehun wanted to stay here more often, not because of Luhan, but because of Jongin.

Luhan cries to himself, he cries himself to sleep while waiting for Sehun.

He cries, flushing the toilet that has been holding all his sorrows.

He cries, biting the bread that won't go down, that his body keeps on rejecting.

Sehun, I need you.

Sehun needs to go on a business trip that'll last a week. All the way in America.

Sehun, no, no, don't leave me again, please don't, i'll do anything, just...

He says goodbye and hugs Luhan at the airport, kissing his lips and promising to call everyday. Luhan's eyes linger further, and with a sinking heart, he notices Jongin waiting impatiently.

Sehun, tell me you love me, not him, but me.

Luhan goes home and takes painkillers, a whole bunch to numb the pain in his stomach.

He sits down, and writes longer letters. He's been writing them, for every single time he's alone, for every time he waits for Sehun, for every time he feels like .

Sehun, I want to kill myself.

On the second day, the pain in his stomach hurts too much, and Luhan wakes up clutching his stomach, gasping as he grabs the bottle and shakes out more pills, downing them with water.

Sehun, it hurts too much, I can't do it.

Luhan wakes up in a hospital, body seemingly paralyzingly. A boy sits next to him with bloodshot eyes, and Luhan recognizes him as Tao, their neighbor in the next-door apartment complex.

“Hi.”

Tao jolts up, shaking a little. “Oh god, Luhan, you're alive, I thought you...you could've..”

“Died.”

“The acid in your stomach was eating away the openings. They've fixed it, I think.”

“How'd you know to come in?”

“Sehun got worried when you didn't respond to his call, and called me and told me to check up on you; the key was under the doormat. So yeah.”

Luhan's heart flutters a little. “Where is he? Is he here yet?”

A grave look crosses over Tao's face as he shakes his head. “Luhan, he...he couldn't come. He said that his boss wouldn't allow him. You'll have to wait a few more days, sorry.”

And with a heavy heart, Luhan nods slowly. “Oh, okay....Thanks.”

Sehun, why?

On the fifth day, Luhan stares at the ceiling. Sehun calls, but Luhan is upset, so he presses ignores.

Sehun's probably with Jongin.

Sehun probably doesn't want to come home.

Sehun probably doesn't want Luhan anymore.

Sharp gasps escape from his lips, and Luhan's shaking, he can't stop. His head hurts too much and everything is just too, too much. The thoughts, the pain, the urges, the guilt—Luhan collapses.

Sehun, I love you, i love you so much it hurts.

Sehun, why didn't you come?

Sehun, why couldn't you save me?

Sehun, was work that important?

Sehun, I'm dying.

Sehun, I love

what did i just write-

luhan is loosely based off of me.

this is part onee; the next part of this is called "Shatter".

and the last part is "Fragments".

uh. peace.