[CONTENTID2] Chasing the Impossible [/CONTENTID2][CONTENTID1]Sehun had somehow persuaded him in this and when he was already standing by the door that led out of the school’s building and into the backyard, Luhan fiddled with his fingers once again in great anxiety. The memory of Chanyeol blurting his little secret was too fresh and the embarrassment was heavy over his shoulders. And he couldn’t but wonder if he hadn’t agreed to that and Baekhyun and Sehun would not have a reason to tell Chanyeol about it, would everything be better?

Probably not.

Nothing had changed that much; Luhan’s brain was still pondering over thoughts of Minseok and brown locks between his fingers and tastes he hadn’t tasted yet and all that also brought tears to his eyes when he faked asleep during the night. The lack of sleep became severe and Luhan would be able to take one or two naps of an hour throughout the day and night. And his daily dose of beer in the morning had turned into two cans and another one by nightfall. The cigarettes also steamed the small rundown apartment he lived at and one after the other, the orange buds met in the ashtray, pilling up one over the other when there was no left space for the new dead ones.

And above all, he had also picked up a habit he had cut off long ago—two years already; cutting. He would sport new scars under his long sleeves when he attended school but he would hide it well and the bandages were not noticeable and his tired eyes would glare under his black cap to whomever as much as attempted to touch his hands. He was slowly sliding back, trying to make a step ahead but always falling two steps short.

But Sehun had somehow convinced him in this and when Minseok finally appeared in the hall, Luhan walked to him with a blank expression and on auto-pilot. The atmosphere was tense to the point it physically hurt and pressured but Luhan ignored it. Instead, he leaned down to Minseok with a smile that he tried to copy from other times, but probably looked too broken.

“Can I talk to you?”

Minseok’s eyes tried to read him and Luhan did not bulge, letting the other take in his expression which he was sure was as charming as death at the moment. After all, there was a reason he hid his eyes, and his hair were styled that way to hide his thinned cheeks.

“Sure.”

Luhan’s hand stretched out to grab on the other’s wrist but he stopped mid-air, staring at his limp as if some sort of supernatural power held him from touching the other. Maybe it was, or maybe it was just his sanity that tried to protect him from future hurting. He let his hand drop to his side, straightening himself before a light smirk played on his lips. “Follow me.”

He could feel Baekhyun’s and Chanyeol’s judging looks from down the hall but he ignored both of them. However, he glanced at Sehun, his eyes just as worried as his but the smile on his face tried to give him courage. Luhan led Minseok outside, back to the bench they used every day, and he sat down before asking the other to do the same. Once seated, Luhan’s eyes wandered off and suddenly, he just wanted to run back inside.

While people were around them, it gave him a feeling that was equal of safety, of an illusion that he was protected—that his heart was protected in the mass. But now, they were the two of them and the closest student to them was at least twenty-five meters away from the shadowed corner. And not only that, the heavy atmosphere from the hall had followed them outside and now it sat even heavier over Luhan’s shoulders as if reminding him to get over with it.

He couldn’t.

He pulled his cigarette pack out of his pocket, placing one stick between his lips and lighting it with his lighter before placing them back in their places. And the deep inhale of nicotine filled his lungs and Luhan prayed to Gods he did not believe in to just kill him off now and save him from explaining himself. But they didn’t hurt him and Luhan was left to hurt like this instead.

“Did you ask me to follow you here to watch you smoke?” Minseok asked slightly annoyed, obviously lost and Luhan did not blame him at all. In fact, he blamed himself for being such a coward. Because he tried talking but that was futile when no words echoed in the silence. Seconds passed and they could almost hear an invisible clock tick over their heads, counting down the time that was left before the break ended and after a while, Minseok heaved a tired sigh. “If there’s nothing, I’m going back inside.” He stood up but he didn’t manage to make a step when Luhan grabbed on his arm, holding him in place and keeping himself on unsteady feet.

“Wait,” Luhan hadn’t expected himself to sound like this, it was almost another self of his, the one that was broken, hurt, hurried and worried and afraid came out. “I’ll say what I want to say.”

Minseok nodded his head, urging him and Luhan let go of his hold on him as if fire his palm. He puffed another breath of nicotine and when he talked, the white smoke left his lips along with the words, “You know… from the start of September I kind of… I have… I—“ Troubled, that was how he sounded to his own ears. Minseok kept staring at him, an unreadable expression, a façade and Luhan gave up. It was all or nothing, he had already started it and he could not take the words back, might as well finish what was meant to be left  unsaid.

“I have liked you since September and I know it sounds weird but… I wasn’t exactly planning to tell you like that the other day,” Chanyeol has taken it too far, stretched it, and cut off my last chances of making you mine. But that was silent, it was not meant to be said. Just like everything else he had said so far.

And as he waited for an answer, it didn’t arrive and they were left staring at one another, eyes locked and the cigarette between Luhan’s fingers slowly burning away and ash falling on the ground. Time stopped for the second time and Luhan would gladly prefer it to freeze like this forever—where he had said what he wanted and was neither rejected nor accepted, saving himself forever from humiliation.

But as much of a dreamer as he was, he was just as much a realist and time of course did not stop and the bell rang and they both flinched slightly at the break of the silence. And of course, the answer he waited did not come because it was more than obvious that Minseok was not like him and he was not planning to sacrifice everything for a random guy who popped up and confessed to him like this. He was not an idiot. However, Luhan was, and he was also a fool for making his heart beat so fast, waiting for a response that would surely not be the one he wanted to hear—the one he dreamed of during his short sleep.

“I have to go to class…”

Luhan’s jaw clenched, teeth hurting and he blinked away tears because, God damn it, it hurt so much. He could feel his insides tear into pieces and burn into grey ash and he was standing there, watching the other as he moved uncomfortably from one foot to the other without being able to do something and save this sinking ship. He only forced a tight smile, no teeth and not reaching his eyes, entirely fake and just a cover up for his pained insides. “We should go…” He nodded to himself, afraid to move his head too fast in case the tears decided to spill and his eyes stared away. He could hear the footsteps of Minseok pull him away and Luhan felt a knot in his throat, keeping any saliva from going down and from any words to come out.

And for once, he wanted to scream for the other to stop and hear his reasons out and the rest of things he wanted to say and everything that he wanted to blurt but couldn’t because God forbid they were two guys and they were wrong. This was wrong. What he felt was wrong and now, he had lost even the friendship they shared because he had acted on his feelings and blurry emotions and fuzzy heart and now, everything had collapsed.

For once, he appreciated the friendship they shared and he would kick himself to his grave because he wanted more but had lost the entire game instead.

**

Maybe it was an attempt to show that he was not really hurt, that his feelings were too innocent to actually pain his heart, that he walked across the field with sure footsteps. His face was hidden under his sleeveless jacket’s hood, glasses on and a scarf wrapped around his mouth and neck. His hands were tucked deep into the pockets, eyes staring ahead, narrowed and scanning for him.

And he found him with someone else, giggling and talking and laughing with someone else. Luhan wouldn’t lie, he couldn’t even try when his insides hurt so much. For Minseok was with someone else and he was smiling, happy and playful as if his poor confession hadn’t affected him the least. And maybe it hadn’t, maybe it was nothing to him. Maybe Luhan was yet another someone who would be forgotten by the end of the day.

That hurt. That hurt so much that Luhan wondered if his heart had actually broken in his chest.

The first person to notice him was not Minseok, of course. He was too busy with that someone else, joking, when someone else pointed out that a dark weird person was walking towards them, someone who had the potential of being a murderer and a cannibal at the same time—or either of them, whatever suited each.

“Who’s that?”

“Who?”

“Him.”

Luhan stopped on his tracks, a couple meters away when Minseok looked up and his eyes widened. “That’s Luhan,” He said as if it was a fact and he jogged close, a smile on his face, and Luhan felt himself feel suddenly so much happier. He had to remind himself that Minseok was just being nice enough to keep the slightest of their friendship alive and that this was not, in any way, acceptance of his feelings.  “What are you doing here?”

“I want to join the team.”

Minseok grinned widely, passing a hand around Luhan’s neck, bringing him lower and ahead, guiding him to the rest. “Welcome aboard, finally!”

Minseok had spent about two months already trying to persuade Luhan into joining the football team he was in. The excuse was that it was new and it needed new players and ever since he found out that Luhan had some rusty football skills, he had gone on and on about it. Luhan, however, had refused multiple times because, honestly, walking one and half hour a day was enough exercise for him when he ate so little and he also, apparently, had high blood pressure and his body liked to faint here and there in public places.

Thus, he didn’t really stand there because he wanted to be part of some random football team. He was standing there because he was trying to be close to Minseok when he knew their friendship was at stake. Stalking, in a sense. Forcing their friendship back, in another. He wasn’t exactly sure what the reason was but, he was there and the only thing he knew for sure was that he was not there because of a ball.

And, needless to say, his plan worked.

Through every fall and embarrassment, Luhan slowly grew on Minseok again—he could see it. Probably he was making a clumsy fool out of himself in the hope that Minseok would notice him and will laugh that adorable laugh, smile his cute gummy smile. Hoping that he would slowly ease and that was what he succeeded. Only two weeks in and Minseok was around him like before, smiling and giggling and hugging him while mumbling some another fall Luhan did and which he found funny one way or another.

Luhan would straight-up admit that this was more than he expected, a faster turn of events. But he wasn’t going to complain either. He and Minseok were back to being close friends, joking during school breaks and play-fighting when Sehun would invite them over (“If you break th—“ crash “He did it!” “It was your idea!” “You both better clean that up right now!”). They were back to before, before that, before Luhan made a grave mistake.

But he was beyond happy that he was given another chance to take back every single word he said but was not meant to be told. Maybe this time, he would start all over and make the right decisions and he would guide this in a different, better direction. That they would get a happy ending.

Luhan couldn’t but laugh at himself. Since when was he not stupid?

**

That night he had searched for company, he had craved for someone by his side, that night he needed someone there to see him broken and to help him forget.

Cans of beer littered his apartment, the garbage over-flowing from bottles of alcohol. The whole place stank, dirty and nasty and plain out awful and toxic to his nose. The nights would be longer since he would stay up longer before he had to fake-sleep when his mother would get in. And then, he would hear yells and muffles voices and crying and he was torn between staying put and silent, and saying something.

“Shut up!”

Muffled voices.

“I don’t care what you say!”

A sniffle.

“Leave me alone, you bastard.”

Something was thrown on the bedside table and Luhan cracked an eye open to see what’s up but the sudden light blinded him too much and he closed it back, swallowing a pained groan. More sniffles, a couple gasps; his mother was probably crying. He knew it was not wise of him to let her suffer on her own when he was right there, her only child available to offer her a warm hug, sweet words, two kisses.

He slowly sat up, cracking his eyes again and finding her form in front of the bedside table, head tilted down and with her back at him. He wouldn’t know she was crying if it wa