(( A/N Hello~ Not much to put in here, other than a warning since this chapter does get a little heavy and there is self-induced throwing up. I don't think it's graphic at all since it's not a scene I tried to make so, but I thought I would warn people either way!

Also, next week's update will either be one day early or a couple days late since I'll be out of town and I won't have my laptop with me. That's all~ Till next time :3 ))

Chapter Ten
I Don't Like Tears But I'm Starting to Cry
When I Realize I'm Destroying My Life

“Jongdae… it’s me again. The recording didn’t say that your voice mail was full this time… so either you deleted all of the messages I’ve left you, or you know that I’ve left about twenty of them,” Chanyeol sighed, rubbing his face with his hand. “It’s been over a month…” He fell silent for a long moment, closing his eyes. “You know where to find me,” he finished, ending the call. He slid his cell back into his pocket jumping as he was called to. 

“Chanyeol!” The black haired male turned, not able to even force a smile. “I haven’t seen you with your friend recently,” Sanghyuk said, looking around and Chanyeol looked down, scuffing his shoe against the ground. 

“I don’t even know if we were friends.” 

“Were?” Chanyeol gave half a shrug. 

“He… stopped talking to me,” he said, Sanghyuk’s face scrunching up in confusion. “I’m honestly surprised by that?” Sanghyuk said, and it was Chanyeol’s turn to give the other a confused look. “He’s sort of friends with my older brother, but my brother says that the guy never really lets people get close to him. You said once that he comes to your dorm, right?” “He used to. We would work on assignments for the class we had together before the term ended and he got a job.” 

“He never came to our house. He never invited my brother over to his dorm either, and my brother’s been friends with him for almost two years,” Sanghyuk said and Chanyeol looked up at him. “He apparently doesn’t get close to people. Unless he’s… well, sleeping with them. But he’s got a reputation for only doing one night stands,” the blond boy added, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly as he rambled on. “So him spending time with you and not sleeping with you must have meant something. What’d you do to piss him off?” Chanyeol swallowed hard, closing his eyes for a moment. 

“He was trying to watch out for me… and when I tried to do the same I guess I pushed too close and he got mad… Then I did something I’m not proud of and he was just… done with me. I don’t blame him,” his throat threatened to tighten as his stomach flipped. “I would have been too,” he flinched when he felt the younger’s hand on his shoulder and he met Sanghyuk’s gaze. He tried to give Chanyeol a comforting smile, but it seemed a little too forced to convey any actual comfort, and Chanyeol pulled back. 

“I’ll… see you around,” Chanyeol said, tuning away and heading back to his dorm. He left the door unlocked, a habit he had fallen into even though the brunet had pointed out knowing where he kept his key several times. 

 He ran out of his prescription four days later, and two days after that he had gotten another bottle from Yixing. He hadn’t taken anything from it yet, and instead found himself staring at the bottle on his night stand off and on as he laid on his bed for over two days.
Why am I doing this? Why am I taking these? It’s been over a year and a half… I’m never going to get better, I’m never going to remember. There’s no sign that there’s anything wrong other than the nightterrors and nightmares… There never has been and there never will be, they’re never going to find anything. I’m just going to live like this until these pills don’t work anymore, and who knows what they’re going to do with me then. He sat back up, taking the bottle and staring down at it. 

Opening the bottle a few minutes later he slid out three of the pills, taking a deep breath before he set the bottle back on the night stand and walked into the bathroom. He rolled a cup with water, dropping the pills into his mouth before taking a drink of the water and sighing once the pills slid down his throat. My bother said he never let people get close to him…That’s why I was surprised that he was hanging around with you. Chanyeol tensed a little as the younger’s voice echoed through his head. Him spending time with you as much as he did… It must have meant something. 

Chanyeol felt his stomach bottom out, and his legs began to tremble beneath him and he dropped to his knees. That’s what’s going to get you killed. You’re sorry? Prove it. His shoulders began to tremble, his stomach churning. I don’t want this. I can’t keep living like this, this isn’t living. He thought, shifting closer to the toilet. He slid two fingers into his mouth, and tried to slip them into his throat, pulling his hand back as he started to cough. He repeated the action, tears pricking his eyes as his chest felt light it was tightening and it was getting hard to will himself to try again. He shoved his fingers further this time, managing to dry heave once and he stopped, panting in between coughing.

He shook his head, taking a deep breath before he tried over and over again; finally after the eighth time he finally managed to make himself throw up, gripping the edge of the toilet as he retched, two of the pills coming back up. He spat out some of the stomach acid that now lined his mouth, whining at the burn it left in his throat before he pulled back from the toilet and leaned back against the bathtub. He reached into his pocket, the screen blurring as he scrolled through his contacts, selecting one and holding his mobile to his ear leaning against the tub with his free arm hooked inside to try and keep himself up right. Please… Please… He begged as the line rang. He felt dizzy as the ringing in his ears was starting to drown out the sounds of his phone. 

“Hello? I finally answer and you don’t say anything? This is why I don’t waste my ing time.” 

“Wait!” Chanyeol said, being pulled from his haze – how long had the other been calling to him? – and he winced at the pain that shot through his throat, his voice hoarse. “H…. Help…. Please.” 

“Why should I bother?” Chanyeol let out a whine, shutting his eyes tightly. The ringing was getting louder, his chest was tightening, and thinking was beyond difficult. 

“I…. Need your help. I w-want your help,” The line was silent before there was a click on the line and it went dead. Chanyeol didn’t remember lowering his mobile from his ear to the floor, but there it was before his vision started to dim and he lost his grip on the bathtub. Closing his eyes, the last thing he registered was the feeling of the shower mat on the side of his face, and a dull throb from the side of his head.

He opened his eyes as much as he could when he heard distorted voices, which wasn’t enough to make out any of the shapes around him, and he closed them again when the voices became louder and clear enough for him to make out what was being said. “Is he dead?” Was the first thing he was able to make out, in an unfamiliar voice. He managed to open his eyes enough to make out a hand being held in front of his mouth and nose. 

“He’s still breathing,” Chanyeol blinked, trailing his eyes up the hand and arm to see the brunet looking out through the bathroom door at a figure he couldn’t quite make out. He opened his mouth to say something, anything, but only a whine came out and Jongdae’s eyes were on him. “Yifan, help me get him onto the bed,” The brunet ordered, moving from beside Chanyeol.

He felt an arm slip under his waist a moment later, pulling him back up into a sitting position before his arms were moved around something and the arm around his waist tightened. He opened his eyes to see a blond haired male whom was the owner of the arm around his waist as well as the shoulders that his arms were now draped over. He looked down to see Jongdae hook his arms under Chanyeol’s knees and on the count of three the pair picked him up and he closed his eyes again. Moving was making his head spin. The next thing he felt was being laid on his bed and something cold pressing to his forehead. 

“The bathroom cabinet has wash cloths; I need one wet with cold water,” He heard Jongdae say and Chanyeol opened his eyes to see Jongdae sitting on the edge of his bed, one hand pressed to his forehead. His arms felt heavy as he lifted it to touch the brunet’s hand that was on his forehead. Jongdae looked back down at him and Chanyeol winced as he tried to speak again. 

“I… threw them… back up,” He wheezed and Jongdae pulled his hand back as much as Chanyeol tried to hold on, unaware of how weak his grip was at the moment, and it was replaced with a cold washcloth. 

“I can tell,” Jongdae deadpanned, placing Chanyeol’s hand onto his stomach, only for the black haired male to grab onto his wrist again.

 “I’m sorry,” He whispered, whimpering as he swallowed. He heard the other sigh, before pulling Chanyeol’s hand from his wrist again, this time intertwining their fingers and setting them to rest on Chanyeol’s chest. 

“I know,” The other said softly before things faded to black again. 

Chanyeol wasn’t sure how long he had been asleep. But when his eyes opened he felt his fingers twitch and the grip on his hand tightened. He looked up from the intertwined fingers in his direct line of vision up to see Jongdae staring down at him. 

“Yifan went to go pick up food,” the brunet said when Chanyeol opened his mouth to speak. 

“Yifan?” 

“Do you remember getting moved to the bed?” 

“Kind of.”

“He’s the guy who carried most of you,” Jongdae stated before there was a knock on the front door, followed by its opening. “Him,” Jongdae added, pointing to the blond with his free hand. 

“Is he your…” Chanyeol trailed off as Jongdae was quick to shake his head before he could figure out the easiest way to imply they were dating. 

“No,” He stated firmly and Chanyeol saw Yifan wince behind Jongdae. He made a mental note to ask the blond later what he would classify his and Jongdae’s relationship as, Jongdae turning to take one of the plastic sacs from Yifan. Jongdae helped Chanyeol sit up, while Yifan went to go get plates to put the take out on, returning and sitting stiffly at the foot of Chanyeol’s bed and Jongdae handed him a plate of food, then one to Yifan, Chanyeol watching the pair closely.

They ate mostly in silence, and he was still eating long after Jongdae and Yifan had finished with how uneasy his stomach was still feeling. Jongdae stood when Yifan tried to take his plate, taking the blond’s instead before he left the main room and went into the kitchen. Chanyeol and Yifan exchanged an awkward look before Chanyeol looked back to his plate and Yifan followed after Jongdae. Chanyeol could still hear him through the doorway to the kitchen and if he leaned to the right he could see them too.

Yifan wrapped his arms around Jongdae’s waist and the brunet dropped the plate he had been washing into the sink when he jumped. He let out an annoyed huff, picking it back up as Yifan rested his chin on the other’s shoulder. 

“So we’re not dating?” Yifan asked, and Jongdae started to scrub the plate a little harder. 

"No. We're not," the brunet said and Yifan turned his head to press his forehead against the other's neck.

"Then what are we?" he asked with a sigh. The younger set the plate down, turning around in the Yifan's arms.

"I thought it would be obvious. We're buddies," he stated. Yifan shook his head.

"But you don't have those, you have one night and then you're done with someone."

"Fine, we're buddies that hold hands. Are we done?" Jongdae asked, tensing in Yifan’s arms.

"That... Isn't at all what I was trying to get you to say," the blond shook his head, a smile lacing his lips this time.

"Well it's the best you're going to get," Jongdae grumbled, turning back to the sink.

"I think you're the best I'm going to get-" the blond barely got the sentence out before Jongdae flicked dishwater at his face.

(( Yay~ Chanyeol finally wants help, so he can get better and not have to be attached to Jongdae for the rest of his life :3 And cute Chenris development. ))