It shouldnt be like this.

He shouldnt be here, weeping night after night, crying until no more tears remained, his throat choked with emotion, anger, hurt.

He shouldnt be looking, searching for someone, something to fill the void left inside him, because Luhan isnt here anymore.

Faded kisses on his neck took him back to the good days when Luhan was here.

When Luhan was his.

The good days when everything wasnt empty

The good days before a razor was his brush, and his canvas was his wrist and he became an artist everynight who painted to the sad melody of his no longer beating heart.

The good days before Sehun hated himself, before he felt like he was drowning on air, before the only one that could save him was no one, so he was never saved, and he was always drowning

Drowning

Drowning

The good days when Sehun wasnt alone.