Grief doesn't have a plot. It isn't smooth. There is no beginning and middle and end.
Anne Hood

i.

Sometimes Yixing hated Luhan. He hated him so much because he couldn’t survive without him and Luhan had just left. But then they always did say that the line between love and hate was a thin one and Yixing was finding that to be true. Because even on the days that he hated Luhan the most his heart still ached with the need to see him again. He wondered if that made him weak or if it just made him in love.

ii.

Yixing was furious when the members suggested cleaning Luhan’s room out. Because that meant that this was really happening, that this was real. As everybody sat in the living room, somber and pale Yixing screamed, “You guys are acting like he’s dead or something!” Each word leaving his mouth was a bullet, a razor. Because Yixing wanted to hurt someone, just so he wouldn’t have to feel this pain alone.  Everybody was silent because Yixing never got angry, he never screamed. For a long time Yixing stood there, fists clenched and his heart a block of ice in his chest until Jongdae’s voice broke the silence.

“He’s not dead Yixing. But…he’s not coming back either…”

iii.

Yixing went for a long walk. It was late and the sky was dark and distant. He sat on a bench in a park and looked at the stars. He remembered when Luhan had sat beside him and looked at those stars and promised him forever.

iiii.

sometimes he was afraid the anger would consume him, because it was so easy to give in to it. Easy to yell and glare and build glass walls around his heart. It was easy to push people away. Because anger was easy. Like fire it took and took and burned bright until it consumed everything around it. Yixing used to think that fire was beautiful. Now he thought it was rage.