Bits and pieces of memories flashed in Sehun’s mind as he struggled to pay attention to whatever Baekhyun was saying.

His face forced against the dirt, the club falling onto his back, falling and falling. And it was just a typical beating, until a sweet voice rang out-

And being helped onto his feet and walking to a room with pretty windows and feather pillows-

And the name “Sehun,” serving the world, and “Jongin,” spreading kindness-

And Jongin eating a cookie, crumbs falling everywhere, and that voice laughing and him staring-

And the adrenaline as he and Jongin snuck out of the warehouse from a hole in the rotting wall-

And his fingers awkwardly curling around a pen, trying to imitate the lines and curves-

And the softness and warmth of being with someone, someone who cared and protected and loved him-

And sneaking out by himself, head and heart and soul full of longing and desire to see those smiling eyes, those sparkling eyes, that beautiful smile-

And the exhilaration of being under the vast night sky, the feeling of freedom and the butterflies in his stomach, holding hands and making wishes on stars, as if they had the right to wish, as if they had a future-

And watching the sun rise; yellows and oranges and pinks bleeding in the sky, shedding light on their intimacy-

And emptiness-

And bodiless arms replacing memories of warmth with cold, heavy metal, dragging on the ground-

And wrenching cries and silent tears flowing, dampening the unforgiving ground-

And the sinking feeling in his gut when he realized he had no freedom and they had no future-

And then it was just Jongin and Sehun, sitting in the warehouse-

And now it was Sehun sitting in the landfill with Baekhyun still talking about random , Chanyeol nibbling on stale bread, Kyungsoo looking bored and Jongin glancing at Sehun with concern. He brushed it off with an eye roll, but he knew it wasn’t enough for the older.

Jongin had always been overprotective. His greasy and dirty humor melted into fierce and serious affection whenever he sensed something was wrong. He filled in the brother-mother-father-whatever role that they never knew and it was something Sehun was grateful for, deep inside. But when it meant that he dropped Kyungsoo off at the Cleaner’s Dorm and went on to follow Sehun with an endless stream of questions, it became really- really- annoying.

“You’re hiding something, aren’t you? You have your face on. What happened? Did you steal something?”

Sehun groaned. “What are you, a Guard?” he fired back, exasperation suddenly rising in him. It had been a long day and he wanted a moment of peace- stop existing for a while, maybe.

“You can tell me anything,” Jongin said, tone softening but not backing down.

Sehun sighed and, nearing the warehouse he slept in, led the other to a secluded corner. A Guard walked by and both Numbered stared down at the ground. He counted the seconds after the footsteps faded.

“Luhan came back.”

His eyes flitted up to see that Jongin’s mouth had dropped open, forming a soundless question.

“I was going to the landfill and he called my name.”

“That bastard,” Jongin finally spat out. “He thinks he can just leave and come back like that? And call your name like old friends? As if it’s not dang-”

“He couldn’t help leaving and we are old friends,” Sehun interrupted. “Kind of,” he added, seeing Jongin’s withering glare.

“He left like without a care for you, without any warning or explanation, and you’re still defending that ?” Jongin asked, incredulous.

The boy stilled at the accusation. Seriously, why was he defending the Elite? But he wasn't just an Elite. He was . . .

“I just . . . didn’t realize how much I missed him until I saw him,” he mumbled, wanting to cry like a little kid as he felt the gaping hole in his life.

Jongin sighed. His hand moved as if to comfort Sehun, but raked through his own hair instead. “But you have to realize how much has changed.”

~ ~ ~

“I don’t want to have to deal with your broken heart again.”

Jongin’s words replayed in Sehun’s mind as he tried to get comfortable on his straw mat. It was supposed to be a light-hearted comment, but they both knew the truth. Jongin had nursed Sehun’s broken heart and broken ribs, broken back. He could still feel the scars, uneven against the mat. It didn’t matter though, and it didn’t change the facts.

Sehun went to all extremes. If he decided he didn’t care, he wouldn’t give a . If he liked someone, he would love them to the end of the world, to hell and back.

He loved Luhan.

His childhood friend.

The Elite who saved him from a beating, led him away from the warehouse for the first time and showed him a whole new world.

The Elite who was now back in this small town, back in his childhood mansion, probably ing an Entertainer now. Maybe he even hired Jongin.

Maybe he’ll hire Sehun one day too, to unclog his toilet or water his lawns or something.

There was an undying hopefulness, choked with nostalgia and bitterness in his thoughts, even as they became nonsensical mumblings. He was so tired and he felt sleep pulling at him but he didn’t want to fall asleep.

It meant dreams- happy dreams that had no place in reality.

He wished that time could stop and wait for him to regain his sanity. Because he felt like he was going crazy. All he could think of were those three years of his childhood, but they were such a long time ago. How could he still remember the smell of coffee, the texture of the thick blankets, the feeling of-

He needed to stop thinking and just wait for dawn.

Dawn.

Such a long wait and such a short chapter. I'm sorry >_<

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