The world around them has gone void. The winds have gone dry, the air is humid, animals of all spices have been silenced, and the cars stop midway of their destinations– everything stops in this heart wrenching moment of truth. 

Baekhyun stares hardly at the cracks on the cement ground, his fists clenched tightly and his tears tainting the cracks below him. He doesn't want to cry, he doesn't want to appear as a weakling, but at this moment and time, it is all he can do. 

Chanyeol is standing in what Baekhyun presumes to be shock. His lips are agape as he tries to comprehend this piece of revelation. Though he doesn't think much, because the next thing he knows, he is walking even closer to the shorter boy and placing his hands on his shoulders instinctively. Baekhyun is still engulfing in tears, as Chanyeol picks his chin up with his pointer finger, staring at him with something far from rage. 

They stare at each other for seconds, just searching for any words that could penetrate this silence in the easiest way possible. Baekhyun hiccups and his lips waver, but he still tries to say something, despite how much gazing into this man's eyes provides him solace. “Cha-Chanyeol I-I...”

Suddenly though, it's like Baekhyun is but a fragile little child as Chanyeol's eyes devour his lost ones. He is adrift in the farthest of sea's, and Chanyeol is trying to pull him to bay as hardly as he can, without shattering him along the way. 

“It's okay. Don't say anything, just come here.” Chanyeol pulls him into his chest softly, holding his head securely in place and wrapping his other arm around his small frame. They stay this way for a while, and Baekhyun believes he won't be able to get enough of it. Chanyeol's smell, his warm embrace, his gentle touch, and his mere presence. It is all like a drug to him, frightening to succumb to, yet oh so relieving. 

To have his heart finally at peace from the flow of the truth is relinquishing, even when there is still the weight of the future tazering him in the background. 

They pull out of the comforting position, and Chanyeol cups Baekhyun's cheeks with his hands, wiping away all of the tears with his thumbs. “You should have told me, I would've helped you.”

Shaking his head, Baekhyun sniffles before opening his reddened lips. “N-No Chanyeol. Y-You've been helping m-me since the s-start.” Chanyeol's hands are still cupping his face, and Baekhyun places his hand atop his right one. He continues to hiccup as he stammers, “I don't e-even know how to t-thank you.” His shivering eyes don't crack under the pressure of the other's pair, but they only fill him with tenderness. 

The ends of Chanyeol's lips head upwards, slightly. “Just stay right here. Right besides me,” He moves a of Baekhyun's hair away from his eyes, “always.”

And Baekhyun has no problem with complying.

____________________

The rest of the day is spent on Chanyeol's couch, where they speak about the occurrence of the earlier events. “So the police doesn't know about the rest of the story?” 

Baekhyun sighs, “No, they don't. They just think I'm a disordered boy who killed his mother.” His face shows disgust when he says that darn word, even when he says it in a sarcastic manner, it still feels so wrong on his tongue. 

This makes Chanyeol think, but something catches his attention before he has time to work the contraption in his mind. “Wait is that...” Baekhyun traces his eyes all the way to the back of his own wrist, where a purple bruise is right in his line of vision. He purses his lips to the side in a manner of a frown, slowly pulling up his sleeve to cover up the wound.

“She marked you.” With such low pitch that resembles a gasp, it sounds like he meant to say it inside of his mind, as disclosure of some sort. 

Baekhyun blinks a few times before shifting uncomfortably on the cushion below him, his lips flipping into a frown. That didn't leave any part of his body untouched. He doesn't say anything, but Chanyeol takes initiative and scoots forward, taking Baekhyun's wrist into his hands and pulling up the material of the sweatshirt to slowly caress the bruise.

His fingers feel so soft on his rough and cut up skin; the way his digits so carefully brush over the bruise is like a sprinkle of magic dust, so soothing and gentle, yet too light to even feel the sensation thoroughly. 

“Baekhyun, live with me.” His words are a sure sign of distraction from the topic, but it comes as a surprise. 

“Why are you suddenly saying this?”

Chanyeol tilts his head, “Because it came into my head, and it sounds like a good idea.”

For some reason, Baekhyun gets a sense of fear, but he doesn't show it. “What about the cops? We can't think of anything else now.”

He is hesitant before speaking, and Baekhyun can see that evidently through the bite of his lip. “I think your only way is to show them proof, since they want it so badly.” 

Putting two and two together, Baekhyun understands what he means and it comes as a displeasure. “I don't want to reveal myself to them, I... I can't.” Chanyeol looks at him with apprehension, knowing exactly that feeling this way isn't something he should be shocked over. 

“I get that, I really do. I hate the idea myself, but Baekhyun... it's the only way to show that your innocent. Unless you have an actual witness.”

He digs deep through the pits of his brain and the only witnesses that actually were there during his moments of pain and suffering, were those evil children. He would laugh if they even gave him something to eat, it would just be poisoned, probably; they would never help him. And the fact that he killed their mother won't make things any better.

He exhales an overwhelming sigh, knowing well what his one and only option is. 

Later that night, Jongdae arrives with a bag of rice and tteokbokki, bringing in the chilly air of nostalgia along with him as they all gather around the small homey table. It's just like how it was months ago, the three of them actually enjoying one another's presence with clean thoughts. Little to no lies wedged in between their seats and pumping hearts of euphoria, not worry. He does not have to carry such masses and masses of facades on himself anymore. It feels relieving for once. 

He only hopes it lasts more than just this one moment.

______________________

The downing of small white crystals serve as his company as he trudges down the sidewalk, eyes aimless and mind centered around his predicament. The cold air makes the hairs all over his body stand up, making him feel eccentric. He wanted Chanyeol to come with him, but he had to stay and take care of something back at the apartment. 

By the time he arrives at the police station, his nerves officially disperse all over his body, building up knots of frustration in his conscience. He doesn't head in just yet, he only stands to lay his eyes on the snow-filled roof and revolving doors. Taking in a huge breath to calm the quickness of his thumping heart, he clenches his fingers into fists and takes his steps into the station. 

His sight goes from a snow filled land to a maze of men in uniform going from one place to another. Some of their hands are occupied by paperwork, others are speaking through a walkie-talkie, and there are some who are taking in criminals to separate rooms that his eyes can't follow. Baekhyun goes up to the front desk and says his name to the man behind the counter, and right away, the police man signals his co-workers to clutch onto his biceps. They hold him firmly, so firmly that their fingers go all the way around his small arm.  

“Wait, wait, please.” He begins to beg, “I've come to speak, please listen to what I have to say.” The men on his sides throw a look at their leader, but the man is staring at Baekhyun with eyes that could burn. It's as if he is assessing him, however throughout this small moment, Baekhyun can not help but feel as if he has seen this cop before. A few seconds of evaluations pass and the man gives them permission to let go of his frail arms.

“Speak. You have five minutes.” Baekhyun breathes in, and does his best to remove the feeling of his chest compacting as he speaks.

“I am not a murderer, and I did not belong in that instituation.” He swallows hard at the words that are about to escape his lips, “My stepmother was abusive, she wanted to kill me that day. It was self defense!”

The cop isn't easily swayed, his expression stoic. “If you are as innocent as you claim, then why didn't you come to defend yourself 4 weeks ago?”

He purses his lips nervously, “I was afraid you won't believe me without any proof...” 

“I was getting to that, actually. What is your alibi?”

This makes Baekhyun bite down on his bottom lip, but he must blow his nerves away at once. “Right here...” Moving his fingers to his jacket to finally reveal himself, a hand suddenly grabs his and stops him from continuing. He blinks at this sudden action; he was promised five minutes, would they really cut him in the middle of his explanatio