Chanyeol was a wreck.

He hadn't slept, showered, or eaten in almost 3 days. His already slender frame had thinned down significantly, and he had huge dark circles around his eyes. More than once, he had glanced into a mirror and startled himself. He looked like a zombie.

Going to school was absolute torture.

Chanyeol didn't even try to do his homework, and when he did, his professors handed back assignments with disapproving looks on their faces. Within a few days, his perfect grades had dropped to nearly a third of their original percentages. 

Chanyeol wanted to care, but he couldn't. He couldn't do anything. 

When school was done, he'd drag himself back home, not bothering to turn on the lights. He'd make a beeline straight for his bed, curl under the covers, and stay there until the next morning. He wouldn't actually sleep; he would just lay there, staring into the darkness, thinking about anything and everything. Sometimes, he'd take the shirt Kris had worn and hold it close to his face, breathing in the familiar smell. It would flood Chanyeol's brain with memories; the sound of Kris's laughter, the taste of his lips, the feel of his embrace. 

Kris's scent was Chanyeol's temporary sanity. 

Now, as Chanyeol lay in bed, his mind drifted back to that day, trying to replay the details over and over so he wouldn't forget. But his brain was in a daze, and the memory was fuzzy. He could only remember bits and pieces.

Tender words. Smooth skin. Passionate kisses. Gentle touches. Ragged nails. Shallow breathing. Closed eyes. Whispered confessions. Soft lips. Strong arms. Shivering muscles. Bright light. 

I'm sorry. I can't. I'm sorry. I'm in love with you. I'm sorry. I'm a monster.

I'm sorry. 

Chanyeol covered his face with a pillow and yelled in frustration.

All the signs had been there. If only he'd paid more attention. If only he'd known. 

But then again, hindsight was always 20/20.

Chanyeol thought about how cold and reserved and alone Kris used to be; he thought about the long sleeves and constant fidgeting; he thought about the incident with the rude man who'd called them fags; he thought about the way Kris had passed out at the sight of blood; he thought about the excuse Kris had made about having a skin condition; he thought about the way Kris always tried to run from him, tried to hide. 

Chanyeol thought about those scars. 

Tears gathered in his eyes.

Chanyeol prided himself with being able to connect with people and read into their characters. But he'd been completely blind to Kris's struggle, and the fact that all the signs were coming to light now...it just made him angry.

"What the hell am I doing?" He growled as he sat up.  

He'd never been the type to feel sorry for himself; he always fought for what he wanted; he never gave up.

So why should any of that change now? 

Chanyeol jumped out of his bed and the light in the bathroom, quickly shedding his clothes to get in the shower. With tears still streaming down his cheeks, he washed furiously, almost as if he was trying to rid himself of the pathetic ghost that had taken over him.

Within ten minutes, he had gotten dressed, brushed his hair, and had even eaten some sour candy he found in the kitchen.

Grabbing his keys and jacket, Chanyeol got into his car and drove in the direction of Kris's neighborhood.

The only reason he knew the address to Kris's apartment was because of the "if lost, return to" tag on Kris's backpack. Chanyeol had spent plenty of time inspecting the tag, mostly because he liked how Kris's handwriting looked.

In any case, he arrived to the apartment complex within twenty minutes, his heart pounding as he parked his car and went up to the building. Fortunately, an elderly lady was coming out of the main entrance right then, and Chanyeol quickly slipped by her and ran inside the lobby.

"1127, 1127," he murmured, running down the halls in search for Kris's apartment number. He jogged past 1125 and came to a stop at the next door. He stared at the number 1127 and tried to catch his breath.

With shaking hands, he raised his fist and knocked on the door. He was surprised when the door squeaked and cracked open.

Why was it unlocked?

With a feeling of dread, Chanyeol pushed the door open, stepping into the cold, dark apartment. He squinted into the darkness, trying to find a light switch.

His hand smacked against the wall and his fingers came across a bump. He pushed the button and the lights flickered on. Chanyeol peeked into the kitchen and then turned into the hallway. He froze in his steps and his heart dropped.

"No," he breathed, taking a step forward, and then another. There, at the end of the hallway, was a bathroom.

And lying on the floor, was Kris.

*