“Sehun . . . Sehun . . .”

It's the time between sunset and sunrise and the voice on the other side of the phone- so impossibly broken- shatters the stillness of the night. The flyaway shards dig themselves into Sehun as he scrambles out of bed and whispers useless soothing words into the phone.

He arrives at the mansion and lets himself in under the pale moonlight. He has a key for emergencies but he really shouldn't. The ridges turn in his heart as he opens the door. It's dark- so dark- but he sees everything.

He sees Luhan on the ground, staring at a broken picture frame and the phone forgotten beside him. Everything's so broken. Everything, Sehun thinks and he drops down and begins kissing the red away. The metallic coppery taste fills his senses and he wants to cry because he's used to it but he really shouldn't.

And Luhan's crying, tears staining the smiling faces laying broken on the ground. They fall on Sehun and the salt burns the cuts on his heart.

“Sehun,” Luhan whispers, lips barely moving. His voice is so brittle and Sehun looks up into his glassy eyes. “Why am I like this? Why does everyone hate me? Why do I hate me? Why?”

The quiet rawness reverberates throughout the empty house, making its way back and slamming into them.

Why? Why?

It repeats in Sehun's mind.

I love you, he thinks as he carries the older boy- the broken boy- up the stairs.

Why can't it take away even a little bit of your pain?