Yixing sits alone in a booth meant for two, lit from all sides by candlelight but feeling only sorrow in his heart. With a small sigh, he dips a finger into his glass of water, already on the 3^rd refill, and starts running his finger along the edge of the glass.

Absently, he listens to the pure sound that rings, the clear sharp resonance of crystal, and he wonders what the note is. Luhan would be able to name it, Yixing thinks, a tiny smile on his lips. Luhan had always had perfect pitch. Yixing can almost hear Luhan's voice teasing him, poking fun at him. “You still can’t name notes when you hear them? After so many years? I really don’t know how you can compose so well when you don’t even know what you’re writing.”

Or maybe he would have just gotten annoyed at the sound. Probably, actually, Yixing thinks, smile growing wider. Luhan would reach across the table, take Yixing’s hands in his own, if only to keep them still. “If you must play with something, play with me, not my ears.”

But Luhan isn’t here. He’s not here to tease Yixing about his lack of musical knowledge, isn’t here to playfully ask him to stop, distract him in other ways, and so Yixing continues running his finger over the glass, listening to a nameless note and nameless harmonies in his head as the dial tone rings on in his ear. It clashes with the note of the glass, he thinks absently, letting out a tiny sigh.

It takes a moment for him to realize that the dial tone is no longer ringing, that a breathless voice is sounding in his ear instead. “Yi-Yixing? Is that you? What’s wrong?”

Yixing bites down hard on his lip. “I… Lulu, are you busy?”

“A- a little, yes. What’s wrong?” Luhan asks again, concern creeping into his voice. “Are you ok?”

“I’m fine, I guess I was just wondering if you had time tonight. It’s nothing.” Yixing keeps his tone light, but his finger slips off the glass, lying listlessly in his lap instead.

“Sorry, I can’t… not tonight. I’m sorry, Yixing.” Luhan’s voice is breathless, apologetic, and Yixing lets his eyes flicker shut.

“It’s ok,” he murmurs, fighting to keep the disappointment from entering his tone. “I understand.” Luhan’s been so busy these days. They all have. Their comeback is soon, after all, and Luhan’s been overworking himself, singing until his voice is hoarse. Yixing understands. He’s been there, dancing until he could barely move, until his back refused to cooperate. “Take care of yourself, ok? Don’t overwork yourself.”

“I’m really sorry,” Luhan repeats, his voice shaking just a little. Yixing keeps his eyes shut. He must be so tired. Yixing makes a mental note to buy Luhan some snacks, a honeyed drink. “I’ll see you later tonight?”

“Yeah. I’ll be home in an hour and a half or so. I love you, Lulu.”

“I love you too.” Luhan’s words are rushed, but Yixing smiles. It doesn’t matter that Luhan had forgotten about tonight. Yixing knows better than most the demands of an idol’s lifestyle, understands that their career comes first, and it doesn’t mean that Luhan loves him any less. It doesn’t.

There’s the click as Luhan hangs up, and Yixing lets the phone fall to one side, opening his eyes. The smile slips from his face, and he stares lifelessly at the expensive menu in front of him.

He ends up ordering for two, a sick hope in his heart that Luhan will turn up anyways, that he’ll drop what he’s doing (who he’s doing) and come to Yixing after all.

***

Almost two hours later, the other plate is still untouched, and Yixing has 11 missed notifications. None of them are from Luhan.

Yixing sits alone at a table meant for two and whispers “Happy anniversary” to himself.

***

Yixing knows all too well what Luhan is doing when he ditches Yixing like this. What he’s doing when he forgets dates and anniversaries.

He knows, but he doesn’t want to know.

So he closes his eyes.

He tells himself that he’s misreading the signs, that there must be something else going on. Luhan loves him. He does. Luhan’s just busy these days, that’s all. Practicing too much, until his voice is hoarse and his legs are weak. That’s all.

That’s all.

***

Minseok can’t meet Yixing’s eyes when he comes home.

Yixing looks so broken, so sad. His eyes are dull, filled with the lies that he’s told himself, mixed with the terrible terrible love that he still harbours in his heart, and the way he looks down at the bag of food in his hands makes Minseok want to cry.

He’s not worth it, he wants to scream. He wants to grab Yixing by the shoulders and shake him until there is life in his gaze again, until he can convince Yixing to love himself before he loves Luhan, let himself give up on this charade.

But even though a part of him wants to scream the truth to Yixing, lift the veil from his eyes, he finds that he can’t push the words from his throat.

Minseok has a promise of silence made to the other two members of his team. But if he had any indication that his words would help Yixing instead of hurt him, Minseok would have broken his promise in an instant.

Yixing grips the bag tightly, glancing up at Minseok. “Is Luhan home?”

Yes. Minseok thinks.

“No,” Minseok says. “He said he’d be out late tonight, and not to wait up for him.”

“I… I see.” Yixing murmurs. He hesitates, then holds the bag out to Minseok. “Give this to him when he comes home?

They’re skirting around the subject, but both of them know exactly why Yixing isn’t going into Luhan’s room to drop off the food himself.

“Of course.” Minseok says, taking the food.

Yixing quietly shuffles into his own room, and Minseok glances down at the bag he holds. A plastic bag, from the nearby convenience store. His curiosity gets the better of him, and Minseok peeks in.

There’s a take-out box, from one of the fancier restaurants around, and Minseok swallows the lump in his throat. Reservations at that place took weeks, months even, and Luhan had blown Yixing off regardless.

Beside the box is a pack of lozenges, Luhan’s favourite flavour, and a bottle of honey jasmine green tea. There’s a note stuck to the lozenges.

For your throat. You sounded off earlier. Take care of yourself!

Love, Yixing.

Feeling like he could choke on the secrets, on the lies, Minseok slumps on the couch, holding a bag of food meant for someone who could never appreciate it.

Take care of yourself! Yixing’s neat writing had said.

Minseok wishes he could make Yixing take his own advice.

***

Jongdae immediately stands up when Yixing opens the door to their room.

“Yixing! I was worried about you! You didn’t respond to my messages or calls and you said you’d be back way earlier and-”

As always, Jongdae slips between Korean and Chinese when emotional, and Yixing gives up on trying to follow the transitions and just stands quietly, letting Jongdae talk at him.

It only takes a few moments before Jongdae calms down, reaching out to grab Yixing’s wrists worriedly. “…he didn’t show, did he?”

Yixing shakes his head slowly, and Jongdae lets out a frustrated sigh. “What was his reason this time?”

“He’s just busy,” Yixing says softly, his eyes flickering shut. “You know we have the comeback soon, and he’s worried about his parts. He said he’d be back late tonight too.”

Jongdae’s lips tighten, but he says nothing. Jongdae too knows all too well where Luhan is. Their dorm isn’t all that soundproof, and Luhan’s voice is far too distinctive.

He doesn’t tell. Instead, he opens his arms, and Yixing stumbles into his embrace, resting his head against Jongdae’s shoulder heavily.

“Thank you,” Yixing whispers, and Jongdae tightens his grip.

“I’m sorry,” Jongdae says in response, letting his eyes shut.

Like this, he can imagine that he’s hugging Yixing for a different reason, that there’s no secrets, no lies between them.

***

“Don’t,” Yixing says desperately, one hand over Jongdae’s mouth, the other trying to block his ears. “Don’t say it, don’t say it, don’t say it-”

“You already know,” Jongdae replies in shock, his eyes wide. “I don’t- you already know what they’re-”

“Don’t say it!” Yixing drops to his knees, breathing hard. “Please, please don’t say it. I’m begging you.”

Jongdae doesn’t understand, can’t pretend that he even begins to understand, but Yixing’s eyes are open, staring desperately at Jongdae, and Jongdae bites his lip.

Quietly, he kneels before Yixing, and gathers him into a hug. He can feel Yixing shaking in his arms, and Jongdae tightens his embrace.

Yixing was supposed to be the healing unicorn, the one that took away their pain and worries. But who could take away Yixing’s pain?

***

Late that night, the door to Jongdae and Yixing’s room opens.

Jongdae grits his teeth, rolling over to face the wall. Behind him, he hears Luhan’s soft voice whispering to Yixing.

“Hey… I’m sorry about tonight.”

“It’s ok.” Yixing’s voice is husky with sleep, nothing but love in his voice. “I know you’re busy these days. Did Minseok give you the food?”

“Yeah, I got it. I… I didn’t… why such a fancy place? Did I forget something?”

“It’s… it was nothing. I just wanted to spoil you a little. You’ve been working so hard…”

“I’m sorry… I… thank you. Should I pay you back?”

“No, no it’s fine. Tonight was supposed to be my treat anyways.”

“I- I’m sorry…”

“Shh, no more apologies. You must be tired… come sleep?”

There’s rustling of bedsheets as Luhan slips in beside Yixing. “…I love you, Yixing.”

“I love you too.”

Jongdae stares at the wall and wonders when Luhan had become so good at lying.

***

A/N: comments/suggestions are welcome. First time writing Exo, sorry if characterizations are incorrect, any comments on that would be greatly appreciated, as well as anything else :D