Luhan fidgeted in his seat and twirled his thumbs as he stared out the moving car window. Sehun cleared his throat and sighed.

“This is really awkward,” he said. Luhan hummed in reply. “God Luhan, can you do something other than just make a noise to show me you’re listening?! It’s very frustrating.”

“What do you want me to say Sehun-sshi?”

“And can we drop that? I was angry that first day, you don’t have to rub it in my face that I was rude to you okay?!”

“Can you stop yelling, Sehun-sshi? I’m not feeling very good right now.”

Sehun was about to yell when the last sentence processed in his head. “Fine, but stop calling me ‘Sehun-sshi.’ It’s annoying now.”

“You’re the one hating on me,” Luhan mumbled. He sighed and took out his phone, which was vibrating in his pocket. He unlocked it and found that Minseok sent him a text.

Minseok: He came home last night.

Luhan: What happened? You ok?

Minseok: I’m fine...we talked

And I apologized.

Luhan: What’d he say?

Minseok: He forgave me and we went out to dinner together

Luhan smiled and texted Minseok back with a smiley face.

“Why are you so happy?” Sehun asked.

Luhan put the phone away. “None of your business.” It came out colder than he intended it to be. It didn’t sound like Lu Han. It wasn’t the Lu Han that loved Sehun with all his heart. It was the Lu Han that hated Sehun for what he did.

“You know, after a year, I’m still the hopeless idiot that’s in love.”

Zitao sighed. “I know Luhan. We’ve been through this.”

“But now...I feel like I hate him.”

Zitao’s expression changed. “Oh.”

“I think it’s the fact that I see him almost every day and he makes it so clear that he doesn’t want me in his life, but he does things that make me love him so much.”

There was a silence from Zitao, who was chewing on a french fry. “That makes no sense.”

Luhan groaned. “I don’t know how to explain it.” Luhan picked up a french fry and dipped it in ketchup before putting it in his mouth. “It’s like how you feel about Yifan sometimes. You hate him for not being home, but you still love him.”

Zitao frowned. “I still don’t get it.”

“I don’t get it either,” Luhan mumbled.

Zitao gave him a confused look but shook his head and sipped his Coke. “Explain it again. You love him, but you hate him. Why?”

“I love him because he’s Sehun, but I hate him for being Sehun.”

“Okay, I am officially lost.”

~OoO~

Sehun still wasn’t used to the fact that he was living in such a big house with only one other person. He unpacked most of his clothes and hung them in the closet. He and Luhan had come up with an agreement the previous night. Luhan would have his own room, and Sehun would get the master. Whenever anyone came to visit, Luhan would sleep in Sehun’s room. (He thought he heard Luhan say, “I knew it,” but brushed it aside.)The only flaw in the plan was that Luhan didn’t like sleeping on anyone’s bed but his. Sehun flattened the empty cardboard box and brought it downstairs, where he saw Luhan coming in, hair wet from the rain.

“Hey,” he said. Luhan said nothing, but climbed up the stairs, brushing his wet shoulder against Sehun’s. “Luhan, are you okay?”

“Just leave me alone,” Luhan replied.

Sehun frowned. “Luhan?” Luhan walked to his room and slammed the door behind him, locking it with a satisfying click. Is something wrong? Sehun shook his head and continued down the staircase. He stacked the flattened box on top of the growing stack in the living room. The house was still mostly empty, a few pictures hung up here and there. Sehun and Luhan had been taken out by their parents to pose for pictures to show that they were together for a year already.

Everything was staged of course, and Sehun had been frowning between shots. His parents and Luhan’s mother were going through a great deal of trouble to cover this up as an arranged marriage and Sehun had to commend them for that. He walked into the empty kitchen and opened the sealed box on the counter next to the sink. Sehun was a very organized person, and made sure each and every box was labelled with what was inside of it. This one had plates, bowls, and cups. Sehun opened the glass cabinets and placed the plates in stacks neatly.

“Sehun?” The said turned around and found Luhan standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame. “Do you know where I put my pills?”

Sehun put the last glass into the cabinet in neat rows before shaking his head. “Do you need them?” He took the box off the table and tossed it in the corner. He went over to Luhan’s side, who was looking abnormally pale, and pressed a hand on his forehead. “You seem a bit warm. You okay?”

Luhan blinked tiredly at him and brushed Sehun’s hand away. “I’m fine.” Luhan began to walk to the stairs but Sehun stopped him.

“Can you just ignore the fact that I’m your ing ex and just tell me if you’re okay or not?!”

Sehun heard Luhan sigh. “Fine. I’m not okay. I feel horrible.” Luhan turned and glared at Sehun. “What are you going to do now? Nothing. If telling you that I’m okay is going to get the same reaction as telling you I’m not, what’s the point?”

“Luhan-”

“Don’t. Don’t pretend to care because I know you don’t. You’re hurting me even more.”

After that, Oh Sehun came to the conclusion that he was a bastard.

“I’d hate to say ‘I told you so,’ but...I told you so.”

“I don’t think that’s going to make him feel better, Baekhyun-ah,” Chanyeol said.

“It wasn’t supposed to make him feel better. It was supposed to make him reflect on his actions.”

Sehun glared at the male playing with his nails across from him. “I hate you.”

“Love you too, Sehunnie!”

~OoO~

“How do you feel that the wedding is next week?”

Luhan chewed on his salad slowly. “What am I supposed to feel?” he asked.

Yifan sighed. “Luhan, I know we’re not the same as before, but I’m still your brother. You can tell me things.”

A bitter taste grew in Luhan’s mouth. “Sorry,” he mumbled. He stabbed at the cherry tomato with his fork and frowned when it kept rolling away.

“Luhan.”

“Huh?”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“Yifan, can we just eat?” Luhan asked. He glanced at his step-brother and found Yifan staring at him. “Please?” He watched as Yifan put down his fork and take his own, effectively impaling the tomato in the fork. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” Yifan said, picking his fork up again and continuing to eat.

“Yifan?”

“Yes?”

“Can I tell you something?” Luhan asked. He placed his fork down and picked up the glass of water in front of him, drinking it. Yifan nodded. “You have to promise not to tell anyone.”

“Okay.”

“Sehun, you know, the guy I’m supposed to be marrying? He’s my...”

“Your ex-boyfriend? Yea, I know. Zitao told me.” Luhan looked alarmed and Yifan let out a small laugh. “Omma doesn’t know. And no one else will.” He mimed zipping his lips and throwing away the key.

A small smile grew on Luhan’s face. “You used to do that when we were little,” he commented.

“I know. And I want to go back to the relationship we had back then. You know, when you used to come to me crying whenever someone made fun of you?” Yifan smiled at the memory. “Can we do that?”

Luhan sighed. He had hated on his step-brother for years now, knowing that he was always second place. But it’s been years since he sat down to dinner and talked with Yifan like this, and he missed it.

“Sure.”