Sometimes, HakYeon relapses.

There are random days when everything just builds up all at once and relentlessly crushes him: thoughts, emotions, pressure, stress, and whatever other negative thing his subconscious mind can conjure up. The dark thoughts make his head spin and twists his lungs. He usually ends up stuffing himself into a corner of his apartment, balled up in hopes of holding himself together. He’s long learned to throw his keys far across the room during these episodes because they’re the closest thing to a sharp object he was allowed to own.

He had been like that since the late morning that day, pressing against the wall and gasping because he couldn’t remember how to breathe. Night had long since fallen, and his apartment was drenched in darkness. The empty sound of night was stifling.

The sound of his phone cut through the silence, startling HakYeon. He considered just letting it ring away; if it was important enough, the caller would leave a voice mail. But he reached out to where he had dropped it earlier that day and dragged it up, the bright display burning his retinas.

TaekWoon…

He pressed harder against the wall, forcing down a gulp of air. Maybe doing that would steady his voice. “… Hello?”

As usual, he was greeted in silence. But TaekWoon never calls first.

“TaekWoon?”

“… You’re still awake?” It was silent, wherever he was.

“I…” HakYeon took a glance at his phone screen. It was almost four in the morning. “Yeah. I just… I’m still awake. Why did you call?”

HakYeon could hear TaekWoon’s steady breathing on the other side as he hesitated for a second. “I have a long report to write, and it’s tiresome. I figured your annoying voice could keep me awake.”

“Yah, what would you have done if I was asleep?”

“Your annoying voice mail greeting would’ve sufficed.”

He wanted to just laugh it off, say, “Is that so?” and maybe their conversation would’ve continued like normal, or maybe he could wrap it up, and HakYeon could go to sleep or continue writhing in the darkness. But his vexed emotions got the better of him, a choked sob escaping amidst his attempt to laugh. He slapped a hand over his mouth, his eyes welling; hopefully, TaekWoon didn’t catch it.

But TaekWoon is perceptive. “… HakYeon?”

“Yah, you brat, what are you doing calling people in the middle of the night?!” HakYeon’s voice sounded gross. He wanted to end the call. No. He wanted to hear TaekWoon’s voice some more, but TaekWoon had fallen silent yet again. “Just leave me alone…”

“Is that really what you want me to do?” TaekWoon asked.

HakYeon buried his face in his arms. “… No. I don’t…” He gripped a sleeve with his free hand, hoping he wouldn’t crush his phone with his other hand. “I don’t… want to go a day without hearing from you or talking with you. But then I feel like I’m all by myself, and I couldn’t stand it if I’m left alone again. I might…”

Fuzzy images of disproving expressions, aloof responses, echoes of emotionless reactions and an oppressing house. A memory of jamming himself in a corner, the only source of light coming from the other side of the locked door betrayed the sight of black blood running down his knuckles. No, he couldn’t return to that again.

“HakYeon.”

He jumped, the quiet, grainy voice through the phone bringing him back to reality. His own voice was invalid, his throat too constricted to produce a comprehensible sound, so he sniffled in reply.

“Right now… What are you doing?”

“I…” He swallowed hard, but he couldn’t speak.

“Look in front of you, and tell me what you see.”

Confused, he lifted his head. His eyes felt raw from the tears, but before him, he only saw muddled shapes and shadows in the darkness. “I-I can’t see… It’s dark.”

He heard TaekWoon heave a sigh. “Turn on the light,” he said patiently.

It took a while for him to muster enough strength to push himself up. He only made it to his knees, so he had to stretch out an arm to reach the light switch. Just as he hit it, the bright lights of his apartment shocked his senses. He squinted, blinking away the spots in his vision.

“So what do you see?”

“I…” What was TaekWoon expecting? “I’m in my room… It’s just… My stuff is here. I don’t understand what you…”

“Everything is in color, isn’t it?”

HakYeon froze. Of course everything was. Across the room, stacked neatly against the wall, was a small collection of his older paintings. The colors didn’t work together to form a proper picture, but the colors were definitely there.

“HakYeon?”

“O-of course. But – ”

“That means I’m still here.”

HakYeon stopped breathing.

“Regardless of whatever you’re thinking, I’ll still be here. You’re not alone. Understand?”

His head was swimming from his emotions going every direction, but he still nodded in reply, completely forgetting that he was on a phone call and not talking to TaekWoon in person. But TaekWoon is perceptive.

“Now, stop it, and go to sleep.”

“Yeah… Okay…”

TaekWoon waited for HakYeon to hang up first. HakYeon buried himself under his covers and let his wretched emotions loose. By the time he woke up the next day, well after noon, his heart was much lighter and unburdened. His face, though, needed to be thoroughly freshened up.

Even though this sort of conversation happened, the next time HakYeon spoke with TaekWoon, their chatter (HakYeon’s chatter, TaekWoon’s grunts) was back to usual.

And HakYeon was fine with that.

A/N: AN UPDATE AFTER 10,000 YEARS OTLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL (And this is all I have queued up OTL I need to write more omf help)

Yeah, now that my mind has been properly cleared of anything Vegas-related (cough cough), I can finally re-focus on this story. This past week, I've been mapping everything out in my head, and I hopefully have most stuff figured out. So HOPEFULLY I can update this regularly again. ...that is, until I go to New York next week and touch VIXX's sweaty hands and fall into the abyss. Y'all I'm so psyched.

Sorry for the century-long break. Look forward to the next part~!