Part I

Huang Zitao will forever remember the day his living nightmare began.

Even up to this day, he remembers the exact feeling he got as soon as he woke up, maybe a sign of the devil’s first appearance in his life. It had been a Thursday. The day itself is one Zitao hates, even now, because it is in the middle of the week and Zitao is usually too tired to function properly. Not to mention that he works half an hour more in the coffee shop, as his co-worker Kyungsoo is busy with classes until 6:30. 

That particular Thursday though, had been even worse than usual.

Oh, how Zitao wishes he could completely erase these 24 hours…

...

Thursday 14th of November 2013

Zitao wakes up with a bad feeling. He isn’t sure what exactly is wrong, but he just knows that something is awfully different. If there’s one person that can tell when his routine is being broken, then that’s Zitao. There’s nothing he hates more than things not going according to plan.

It doesn’t take long for him to find out what is bugging him. A mere look at his alarm clock next to his head is more than enough, actually.

“!” He exclaims, quickly throwing away his bed’s covers and shooting up.

He’s fully dressed for the winter weather in less than 10 minutes later, not even fully awake yet. 

Usually, he wakes up at 6:30 in the morning, so that he has the time he needs in order to get up, eat breakfast, walk to the bus station and get to university without feeling the urge to murder anyone.

Zitao is especially careful to maintain a cool image in front of his classmates, co-workers, professors; pretty much everyone he meets. He carefully picks his clothes for the day, staying fashionable, without making it seem like he tries too hard (even though he might do). Thus, getting dressed in merely ten minutes would have been unacceptable, but what can he do?

Seeing how it’s now already 7:15, he skips breakfast, breaks into a full run in order not to miss the bus and definitely feeling the need to kill someone. (The bus driver that sends him a dirty look when he stops the bus right before it speeds away and climbs on it still panting would be a considerable option). Maybe he shouldn’t have stayed up so late the previous night, but what could he have done? Those re-runs of his favorite dramas had kept him up until late at night, yet he didn’t regret it one bit.

His morning class goes well, or, at least predictable. After all, with the recent downfall of his grades, Zitao’s university life hasn’t exactly been ideal. Getting scolded continuously by his professors, always worrying about essays and homework, and even receiving angry phonecalls from his mother, who keeps threatening to bring him all the way back to China if he continues being a failure and disappointment.

As he walks towards the coffee shop where he works when he’s not in class, which is not really far from his university, he wonders why everything went wrong in his morning routine. 

Maybe he’s overreacting a bit, but Zitao has always hated any unpredictable changes. He always needs time to adjust to new situations, and he becomes extremely moody when there are unexpected changes in his plans. 

He enters the shop in a bad mood, which probably is noticeable, judging from the curious looks Minseok’s little stalker, Luhan, sends him. 

He waves at him half-heartedly with a frown (probably a big difference from his usual polite smile and small talk in Chinese), which startles him enough to stare at him with wide-open eyes for awhile. And then he runs to Minseok to tell him the news. Obviously.

By the way Minseok nearly shoves Luhan away, it’s quite obvious that his hyung is not exactly in the best mood either. Minseok’s admirer, utterly hurt and a bit confused, retreats slowly back to his table, and, maybe for the first time ever, keeps quiet for a long time.

Zitao wonders once again, annoyed, why everything seems to be changing in this specific day. 

Minseok barely acknowledges his precense with a quick nod, before returning to work. He lets it slide, not really wanting to worsen his foul mood. Plus, he doesn’t really mind, considering that he’s not up for small talk at the moment.

The hours pass terrifyingly slow and, for once, Zitao wishes Luhan did something – talking, moving; pretty much anything except for staring outside the window lifelessly while listening to music and staring at a notebook - so that it would distract him. That doesn’t happen. Instead, the usually lively person has been drained from any kind of energy, and it’s quite unsettling to watch him like that.

At some point, he approaches Minseok cautiously, deciding that this situation is too uncomfortable for him to bear.

“Hyung…? What’s wrong with Luhan-hyung?” he asks tentatively, not wanting Minseok to snap at him.

“Why don’t you just ask him?” Minseok replies.

Zitao doesn’t ask. (He doesn’t like initiating conversation; one more reason why he doesn’t have any friends). Instead, he counts the seconds before Kyungsoo arrives, and he actually arrives half an hour later than expected, which serves to completely ruin whatever was left of his… neutral mood.

“Oh my God, Zitao, I’m so sorry!” Kyungsoo quickly apologizes as he enters the coffee shop in a hurry at exactly 7 o’clock, tossing his umbrella in a corner carelessly, his eyes wide from guilt. “You missed the bus, didn’t you? Do you want me to pay for a taxi home? You know I wouldn’t mind.”

His panicked state makes Zitao pity him, so he says, it’s okay, I don’t mind walking.

And that’s how he finds himself walking towards his apartment in the rain, becoming completely drenched and freezing, because the day was – just his luck - especially cold.

Even the weather seems to be against him.

When he finally arrives home after what feels like a century, he’s completely exausted and wants nothing more than sleep for a good 12 hours.

However, he steps into the shower first; the steaming water somewhat making him feel relaxed.

(Little did he know that the day’s disaster had only yet to come.)

The loud noise from outside pulls him out of his thoughts, and alarms him enough to end his shower a lot quicklier than he would have liked. Putting on some clothes, he nearly runs to his apartment’s door and, composing himself a little, opens it.

The sight outside is nothing like what he had expected.

No masked thiefs, no disguised assassins, no fight going on.

Instead, there’s a boy. A simple, silver-haired boy, eyes hidden from his messy bangs.

“Hello, my name’s Oh Sehun. I think we’re going to be neighbors,” the guy says politely, smiling hesitantly.

He has a beautiful eye-smile, Zitao thinks unconsciously.

“You’re moving here?” he replies shortly after, pointing to the empty apartment next to his. 

The boy – Sehun - nods, the slight smile never leaving his face. “Actually, I’m sorry for the fuss. I made quite a noisy entrance, didn’t I?”

He resists the urge to agree with the stranger, soon-to-be-neighbor guy, and instead says it’s nothing. It’s not nothing, but he doesn’t want to scare Sehun away already, so he tries to deal with his anger and forces a smile on his face.

“My name’s Huang Zitao, by the way.”

He walks over to where Sehun is standing near the staircase, looking down at a fallen box with its contents scattered all around; probably the source of the noise.

“My friend Jongin was supposed to help me get my things here, but, as you can see, he didn’t show up and, well, I made quite a mess here, didn’t I?”

He kneels down, quickly throwing his belongings back to the box, picking it up effortlessly and trying to get on his feet.

“Here, let me help,” Zitao suggests, for no apparent reason. It’s no secret that he is not exactly a social butterfly, and not really considerate towards others either, which is why the fact that he’s helping a complete stranger is surprising. (Again, there’s a reason he doesn’t have any actual friends.)

As he takes the box from Sehun’s arms, their fingers brush, and Zitao can’t help the slight shiver that goes up his spine. Before Sehun can pick on his discomfort, he turns around and walks towards the door next to his own apartment.

Sehun fumbles a bit with the keys, but soon enough, they’re inside and Zitao is quite surprised to see that the small apartment is fully equipped with all the necessary furniture.

“My parents arranged it so that when I finally moved here everything would be more or less ready,” Sehun explains awkwardly, looking around at the place curiously, and Zitao takes a moment to wonder what kind of relationship the other has with his family.

The box has become quite heavy, and Zitao involuntarily makes a strangled noise which doesn’t go unnoticed and Sehun quickly tells him that he can leave it wherever.

“Do you have any other boxes?” Zitao asks, because he doesn’t want to be the cause of Sehun’s death if he tries climbing up the stairs with yet another box.

“There are a few more in my car,” he replies and for a second, he seems confused. “Will you help me carry them upstairs?” he asks afterwards, yet again smiling his distant smile.

“Sure. I don’t trust you alone with heavy stuff now, anyway,” he only half-jokes before making his way outside, Sehun following closely behind him.

In the end, Zitao somehow ends up helping Sehun carry the boxes, then unpack his stuff and eating dinner with him. It’s only when he’s back in his apartment, lying on his bed and slowly drifting to sleep that he realizes he didn’t study or go out for a walk that night.

…

That was pretty much his first meeting with the devil.

If he had known that the silver-haired boy was the devil in disguise, would he still have talked to him? No. He would definitely have turned around and disappeared into his apartment, ignoring the guy outside. It would have been the best thing to do.

He realizes that now, with Sehun lying on his couch, his long limbs all over the place, eyes focused solely on the TV screen.

“Hey, do you have anything for dinner?” Sehun asks, not so much as turning to look at him.

Zitao sighs loudly. “Seriously, Sehun? Don’t you have a house or something?”

Sehun finally spares him a glance, faking a hurt expression. “You know I always get lonely, Tao.”

He doesn’t know if it’s the annoying nickname Sehun seems to like a lot (maybe it’s better that way though; Sehun would never be able to pronounce his actual name correctly, and he doesn’t want his ears to bleed), or simply the fact that he’s here that pisses Zitao off the most.\

Either way, he seriously contemplates kicking Sehun out of his apartment, or maybe even throwing him out of the window. He calculates for awhile; a fall from the third floor will be quite painful, if he even survives, which is unlikely, but, considering all that the brat currently resting on his couch has put him through, he deserves it, if not more.

“Please? I’m hungry”, Sehun whines from the couch, and Zitao thinks that the only times when Sehun ever lets his distant and blank expression fall is when food is concerned. Excited when he gets to eat his favourite dishes or snacks, longing when he’s hungry, and even pouty when Zitao doesn’t let him eat with him.

(The day he uses aegyo will be the day he’ll kick him out, he promises himself.)

Zitao wonders how Sehun managed to leave a good first impression. Alright, maybe not exactly good, but good enough for Zitao not to move out from this apartment and run away all the way back to China. He must have tried really hard.

In contrast to his too friendly and cool-neighbor image, to him, Sehun is now only an annoying brat, who, for some reason, insists on coming over, even when he isn’t invited. The kid must be really lonely, or just really desperate. Or maybe both.

Trying to figure out how other people's minds work is difficult. Why bother?

Zitao sighs for what feels like the hundredth time that evening. Just his luck; he returned from work and found Sehun already devouring his snack stock. He’ll have to remember and change the spare key’s position. (Maybe putting the key underneath a flowerpot right outside his door wasn’t the smartest idea ever after all.)

“Listen, Sehun: eat whatever you want. I’m going out. Be gone by the time I’m back.” Once again, Zitao backs down. He doesn’t know why he keeps letting Sehun in his apartment. He doesn’t even like the guy. (After all, what’s to like in a clingy guy with terrible eating habits that becomes a total nerd once his favorite movie or anime is shown on TV?)

Unfortunately, in those past few weeks since Sehun moved, he has become quite used to the other’s presence, and that is somehow devastating for Zitao. What happened to his independence? To his I-don’t-need-friends attitude?

To clear things out, they aren’t exactly friends with Oh Sehun. (He just happens to know his daily schedule, how he has a habit of his lips, which snacks he will eat by himself and which he’ll share, and a bunch of other things that are completely useless, yet he happens to remember a lot more easily than his school work.) Apart from the few things that Zitao noticed, he knows nothing about Oh Sehun. He doubts they’ve ever sat down and have a proper talk except for that first day.

(“You have a lot of stuff.” “I guess I do.” “Mhmm.” 
He’s not sure this is considered conversation, but anyway.)

Despite visiting all the time, Sehun is distant; at times cold, even.  

“Where are you going? The good part is only now starting”, Sehun says and Zitao doesn’t bother to remind him that he didn’t even watch the beginning of the movie.

He mutters a simple “bye” as he grabs his coat and exits the apartment’s door, the cold hitting him instantly. Was the weather that bad when he was out earlier in the day?

Doing his best to ignore the freezing weather, he takes the stairs, hoping that moving will keep him warm. 

Exiting the building altogether, he takes a deep breath, and even though the cold air kind of hurts his throat, he feels more free than he’s felt in days. 

It’s been so long since he last went out for one of his walks; lately, Sehun’s been keeping him busy with all his clinginess and he’d been too tired to go out afterwards. (He can only hope his neighbor doesn’t become a second Luhan.)

For a moment, he stops moving. There, just outside his apartment building’s front door, he freezes, and holds his breath. He wants to take it all in, the night view of Seoul: the city lights, the busy roads even after midnight, everything, to the smallest detail.

The way one moment, one mere second, can feel so special, is beyond him. He doesn’t know what makes the scene before his eyes breath-taking; something in the thought that a sight so common can be also beautiful, even to him who’s seen this countless times; something in the thought that he’ll never get enough of this, leaves him amazed.

Oh, how he missed this.

If he had to choose the thing that annoyed him the most about Sehun’s habit of coming over all the time, it would be the fact that he keeps him away from doing what he enjoys the most, what he needs the mostin his life.

Sehun has been nothing but a distraction, from day one. And, even though he sometimes feels like he could use some sort of break from this too plain life he is leading, it also scares him. Zitao was never one to need things such as distractions. He faced everything that became an obstacle before things got out of hand, with a clear mind; and honestly, he still thinks that this is the best way to navigate through this organized mess that is his life.

And that’s why he can’t afford having any distractions.

It has been barely a few weeks since Oh Sehun’s entrance in his life, and he has already neglected both his studies (oh well, that wasn’t exactly new…) and the only thing that keeps him sane.

And yet, he manages to find his neighbor fascinating.

Because Oh Sehun is still a mystery to him. 

It is actually weird, now that he thinks about it. He can’t even remember if Sehun mentioned what he was majoring in, yet they’ve spent a whole lot of time together. 

For some reason, the younger guy doesn’t seem at all eager to reveal things about himself. Zitao didn’t notice that before because he was somewhat the same, but for someone who has been coming uninvited at his place nearly every day, Sehun is too secretive.

Hell, he could be a fugitive, for all he knew!

(Not that Zitao had ever bothered to ask him anything about himself. No, the last thing he needs is getting an insight in Oh Sehun’s life. He can live without that just fine.)

Yet, that doesn’t stop him from wondering about what the hell is going on in his mind. He’s pretty sure that when he moved into his current apartment he did not visit his neighbor - Mrs. Lee, the old woman who had moved in with her son a few months before Sehun appeared in his life - even once.

He’ll have to ask him another time: why he keeps spending time with him even when he doesn’t bother trying to get to know him. He’s now convinced that it has nothing to do with spending quality time together.

Enough of Oh Sehun for tonight, Zitao thinks, putting an end to his unnecessary and useless thoughts, relieved that he can forget about the boy’s existence, even if it is a cowardly thing to do, even if it can only last this long.

“Tao! What are you doing? You’re going to freeze!” A voice interrupts his newly found peace and quiet and, instantly, Zitao can recognize its owner. Sehun’s voice is peculiar, and Zitao couldn’t have helped but taken notice a long time ago. It isn’t exactly unpleasant, but it’s void of any emotion and very steady, as if he can’t really change the pitch. Frankly, it freaks Zitao out a little every time the younger surprises him like this.

He turns around slowly, wishing for the impossible. No one’s here, no one’s here, he keeps repeating in his head. It was just your imagination.

Yet, there he is; the cause of all his recent concerns and problems: Oh Sehun. 

“Tao?” Sehun asks, unsure of whether he has interrupted something. Then again, it could just be that he’s worried; Zitao can’t really tell. He’s never been good at reading people, and Sehun has built a wall all around himself, rendering it impossible for Zitao to figure him out.

He’s certainly a fascinating person; Oh Sehun. 

“What are you doing here, Sehun?” he asks, not bothering to reply to the other’s questions. What could he say anyway? That he came outside because he was fed up with him? That he would never really complain about the cold because he is used to it after becoming a late-night walk addict? 

“I was just wondering about where you were going so late into the night,” he answers, and his confusion is barely noticeable on his usually expressionless face.

“I was just going for a walk,” he explains and Sehun stares at him incredulously. “It’s something I enjoy doing,” he adds, as if that would make it seem more normal.

“Oh. So you’re that kind of person,” he asks, a frown on his face. Zitao must seem really confused, because Sehun doesn’t waste any time before adding: “The romantic kind? Like the people in the movies that like walking under the moonlight and just wait for their star-crossed soulmate to find them?”

“That’s not it,” he says after taking a moment to roll his eyes at Sehun’s ridiculous words. (He didn’t know Sehun actually had a sense of humor). “It’s just something I consider stress-relieving.”

“Oh,” he says once again, at a loss for words. “So… where are we going?”

We? 

Sehun’s serious face informs him that he’s actually planning on coming with him. Zitao doesn’t want to sound rude by telling him that he wants to be left alone, so he just shrugs, before quickly turning around and starting to walk.

They fall into step easily, Sehun following Zitao’s pace as though it is the most natural thing for him to do. They don’t exchange any other words, each of them preoccupied enough by their own thoughts.

Despite claiming that these walks calm him down every time, Zitao finds Sehun’s presence next to him slightly unnerving, keeping him far from relaxing. He wonders why Sehun joined him and, most importantly, why he let him join him.

Could that mean that Sehun is troubled by something and needs to test out Zitao’s habit himself in order to calm down?

For the first time in forever, Zitao finds himself not knowing what to do. As they walk side by side, in complete silence, Zitao looks at the person next to him, and Sehun is frowning, in deep thought about something.

Would it even be appropriate for him to ask the other what’s wrong?

Sehun never really questioned him about his problems and worries before, so it would definitely seem weird if Zitao was the one to try and get closer to him first. Not to mention that he doesn’t think the younger would answer even if he asked.

It’s none of his business anyway, he convinces himself.

He does his best to ignore the presence next to him, but it proves to be a lot more difficult than expected. He is suddenly very aware of every loud intake of breath Sehun takes, every small sigh, every little change in his walking pace.

And, for some inexplicable reason, he doesn’t find it weird. No, in all honesty, there’s something surprisingly comfortable in the silence that has fallen upon them.

They arrive at a park nearby with no words added, and Zitao takes a seat in his favourite bench without alerting Sehun, who seems surprised at the change of direction. He recovers pretty fast, and moves next to him, settling down with a sigh.

“What are you doing, Sehun?” Zitao asks, because it, he’s curious and he want the other to explain.

“What do you mean?” the younger replies, and Zitao doesn’t need to be a genius to figure out that he knows exactly what he’s talking about. (Even though he is a genius. An underrated one.)

“Why did you follow me here?” he says straightforwardly, and mentally winces at the curiosity traceable in his voice.

“I-I wanted to get out. That’s- I needed some air, that’s all,” his stuttering and insecurity are way too obvious; Zitao squints his eyes as if that would help him get a better and clearer view at the boy beside him.

“You’re weird, you know,” he says finally. “You keep coming to my place, and now you follow me outside in the middle of the night. Perhaps… are you a stalker?” 

It was intended to be a joke, but Sehun doesn’t laugh. 

Instead, his distant gaze is focused on something in front of him, and he seems distant once again.

“I’m not,” he replies, and emphasizes his words, “weird.” He then smiles, and turns to him, amused. “You have no right to speak, you know. You’re the one that enjoys romantic walks under the lonely light of the moon.”

Just like that, the Sehun he knows is back. Distant, but never missing the chance to throw some kind of snarky remark.

“You’re the one that joined me!” Zitao exclaims defensively, because hey, it’s a sensitive subject. He’s been judged more than enough because of this habit of his back home already.

Sehun only laughs at him; in a michievious way that makes his eyes turn into half-crescents. And, once again, Zitao does not notice how much brighter his whole demeanour seems when he lets himself get carried away, and leaves behind whatever makes him cautious of his every move. No, Zitao definitely doesn’t notice.

“So… why do you come here? You said it was stress-relieving, but why would you be stressed out in the first place?”

To say that Zitao is surprised would be an understatement. Did Sehun really just ask him a personal question willingly? And here he thought the guy was incapable of starting a conversation.

“Just life, I guess. You know; university, work, family,” he replies, and, to be honest, he wishes he had something more meaningful than this to say for his first actual conversation with Oh Sehun. “I guess stress accumulates,” he finishes lamely.

Sehun hums in response, “I understand. Life is tiring sometimes, you know?” 

Oh, he knows this better than anyone.

“What about you? Why did you join me here, exactly?” Now that the question is out of his mouth, he feels relieved. He was never one to like leaving things unsaid anyway and he’s going to ask again and again until the other answers him. “Don’t think I’ll buy that crap about you wanting to ‘get some air’” he adds for good measure.

“I guess…” Sehun hesitates and for a second Zitao thinks he’s not going to continue. “Living in an empty apartment is… hard.”

“Please don’t tell me you just finished high school and it’s your first time living away from your parents.” Is Sehun only eighteen? “That would make me feel extremely old at the age of twenty-one you know,” he realizes, eyes wide.

“No, that’s not it. I-I used to live with my friend Jongin.”

There’s something in Sehun’s eyes; something that stops Zitao from inquiring him any further, and instead, he avoids the subject.

“I remember when I first came in Korea two years ago,” he says, “I got a culture shock after living my whole life in China – did I ever even tell you I’m Chinese?”

He knows he didn’t; he never bothered.

“It’s not like I couldn’t figure this out. Your accent is more than noticeable you know,” Sehun with an amused smile.

“Let me see you trying to speak in Chinese,” he mutters under his breath. “Anyway,” he continues, louder this time, “during the first few months it felt really weird: not getting to eat home made food, not having anyone to talk to, not having someone to take care of me.”

Sehun keeps on staring him, and Zitao smiles softly at him. He can see now where the other is coming from. 

Sehun smiles back.

“But in the end, you can get used to the worst things, right?” he says, wishing to put an end to the conversation. Conversing like a normal person had proved itself to be harder than he originally thought.

“Right,” Sehun echoes and his smile sort of falters.

This time, the silence is awkward. Zitao plays with his fingers absent-mindedly, no longer looking at Sehun. Did he say something wrong?

In the end, he’s the one to break the silence. “You know what? Maybe we should get going. I have a class early in the morning tomorrow, and I could really use some sleep right now.” 

“Sure, let’s go then,” Sehun turns at him and smiles faintly, before they both make their way towards their apartment complex.

Zitao spends the night thinking about silver-haired boys, chinese accents, and faltering smiles.

What did he do to deserve this?

A/N: Hello everyone! I am aware I made you wait too long for a part that you might not find worthy the wait, and for that I'm very sorry. I would have really updated sooner, but I'm currently working on the final chapter of another fic of mine, and school just started, so I've been a bit busy.
I really hope you enjoyed this first chapter of the story, and feel free to share you opinion about it. I always love getting feedback, and I think it'd be important to know what you think of this all the way from the beginning.
Thank you so much to the people who subscribed, or simply those who took the time to read this chapter! It means a lot to me you know ^^
P.S. To my beloved sister, SilkyGreen: hope this cheers you up even a little bit! I miss you a lot...